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I touch her arm to untangle her from me, needing to put some distance between us, when I notice her skin is peppered with goosebumps.
“Are you cold?” I ask, glad for a safe subject. Something to take our minds away from this. Whatever this is.
“No. I feel hot actually.”
My eyebrows pull together. I touch her forehead, but she doesn’t have a fever.
I hear her laugh softly. “No, Andrew. Not that kind of hot.”
Oh, fuck me. We are playing this game.
Andrea stands on tiptoes and clutches my shirtfront. Reflexively, I lower myself to meet her halfway. I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing until I find myself almost face-to-face with her.
“Andrea…” I’m giving her an out, an option to change her mind. Because fuck, the moment our lips touch, she’ll be mine—body and soul. She’ll be all mine. Damn the consequences. Damn anyone—I MEAN ANYONE—who’ll try to come between us.
The moment I kiss her, no one else will ever touch her. I’m alarmed by this realization, by this possessiveness. But it is what it is. I can’t summon the willpower to stop this anymore.
“I know you’ve been wondering how I taste ever since I knocked on your front door.” Gone is the innocent Andrea. This one is hellbent on seduction.
“We can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because…”
She runs a hand down my chest, resting her palm above my hammering heart. My whole body is strung tight. “If you’re worried about…”
I don’t let her finish because, in that moment, all my excuses fly out the window. I cup her face between my massive hands, crushing my lips to hers.
I warned you, Andrea. And now I’m claiming you as my own.
2
ANDREA
He’s kissing me.
Andrew freaking Alexander is kissing me.
His mouth on mine.
One hand behind my head, another on the small of my back.
And his thick girth is pressing against my stomach. Fire plunges down my body and settles in my core.
I’ve been dreaming of this moment for years! Years!
And it’s happening. It’s finally happening.
When my dad told me Andrew agreed to be interviewed, I was giddy with excitement. So giddy I jumped up and down like a lovesick teenage girl in my dorm. He’s the best surgeon in the state, but more than that, I’ve been nursing a major crush on him since I was 15 when I saw his photo at home.
I haven’t seen him in years because he lives far away and Dad never brought me when they met up for beers. I traveled more than four hours for this but who would have thought I’d end up kissing him! God, my teen self would be so proud and happy.
Talk about dreams coming true!
I tried to be professional but dressed casually so he wouldn’t find the whole interview too formal. I wanted him to see me as a grown-up, as a woman worthy of his attention. But when he opened the door, I felt the ground under me fall away.
I know he’s hot. I’ve seen pictures of him and searched him on Google—like any self-respecting woman. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight of him in person.
