Page 131 of Feels Like Home

“Why aren’t you putting clotheson?”

“Why? So that when I convince you to move in with me, I have to undress again before we have sex right here on the living room floor? Think about it. Once you live with us, you won’t be as loud as you want tobe.”

“I thought you were trying to sell me on this wholeidea?”

“I am. See, funny thing. I’ve learned a little about you. And, aside from me behaving like a complete moron in recent weeks, I get you. I also know that you care more about those boys — and hopefully me — than screaming like a banshee duringsex.”

“You’re soannoying.”

He nods his head seriously. “I know. It would bother me to be around someone who’s right all the time,too.”

I growl. I can’t help it. He’s such a smart ass. So cocky and full of himself. But he somehow makes itloveable.

He steps closer, dropping his phone to the couch, and wraps his hands around mybiceps.

“Christine. Is it so awful that we want you living with us? Is there really anything wrong with that? You knew it would happen eventually. Now that I pulled my head out of my ass, I’m ready to keep movingforward.”

“But you literallyjustpulled it out of yourass.”

“Not exactly,” he murmurs, and I narrow my eyes, about to ask him what that means, but he continues on before I get the chance. “Just because my head was up there doesn’t mean that I didn’t miss the hell out of you. Or think about youconstantly.”

“I thought about you, too,” Iadmit.

“Of course, you did.” He smiles, spreading his arms out to his side then points to his… yeah. He’s pointing to what’s pointing atme.

I roll my eyes inreturn.

“You might want to get that checked out, that whole eye rolling thing. You do it a lot to me.” He jumps out of the way when I reach for him, ready to smack him on the chest. He backs away until he’s in the kitchen, out of myreach.

“You’re so annoying!” Iyell.

I hear him open thefridge.

“What are youdoing?”

“I’mhungry!”

“Now?”

“Why not now? I worked up an appetite earlier. Didn’tyou?”

Food?

Ohyeah.

“I couldeat.”

And then my tongue gets stuck in my throat, and I have to cross my legs where I stand to stop from peeing myself because there stands Andy, in a whipped creambikini.

He’s smiling, completely unashamed, as he runs an index finger through the white foam covering his right nipple, bringing it up to his mouth so he can suck itclean.

He moans, closing his eyes and dropping his headback.

It should beweird.

It’s mesmerizing and erotic and has me peeling my clothes away in my living room like a wantonslut.

His nostrils flare as I getcloser.

---