Page 92 of Feels Like Home

“Well, the boys are playing football with their buds, and I wasn’tinvited.”

I giggle and roll my eyes. It’s been three weeks since we were first together, and there’s been only a few days we haven’t found timealone.

The slow burn of our relationship seemed to go up like wildfire, and there’s no way of putting itout.

“Fine.” I sigh like it’s a huge burden to spend time with him. It isn’t. Not in the least. And if I know Andy, I have a very good idea how he wants to fix his so-called boredom. “What do you want todo?”

He waggles his eyebrows at me, smiling wolfishly before taking my kindle out of my hand and placing it on the table. He crawls up my body, situating himself firmly between my legs, forcing me to lie back on thecouch.

“So, when you said you werebored…”

“It’s hard being bored,” he says pushing himself againstme.

A giggle bursts out of me. “Oh, my goodness did you really just saythat?”

“You bored?” His lips are on my neck, causing a delicious shiver to pebble myskin.

“No. I’m a grownup.”

“I distinctly remember you telling me that you were in the mood for exercise and needed a cure for yourboredom.”

“Idon’t…”

I’m cut off by the feel of his hands working their way up my shirt, lifting it away from my body, as his fingers blaze a trail across mystomach.

He leans back, looking down at me before swiftly removing my shirt over my head, my hair tie that was haphazardly wound around my hair flying across the room in theprocess.

He smirks at my lack of bra, and Ishrug.

I told him it was a day of rest, so I was giving the girls a day off from the confines of a bra,too.

Before I can say a word, his mouth is on me once again, his tongue making no pit stop to ask for entrance or to see if I’m ready by taking its sweettime.

There’s nograce.

He’s forceful andstrong.

He tastes like the cinnamon gum that he’s always chewing and smells delicious. A combination of his body wash and outdoors and just a tiny hint of sweat from his run overhere.

His muscles are firm under my fingertips while I let them move over his hot skin. They flex under my touch, and when I feel for the hem of his shirt, he wastes no time in pulling back, helping me to removeit.

Our bodies come together in a sweat-slicked collision, my breasts pressed against his bare chest. The small amount of hair that speckles his chest causes a friction against my smooth skin that makes my stomach tighten. I wrap my legs around his waist, needing some sort of pressure to help relieve the suddenache.

That’s the thing with Andy that I’ve never had with anyoneelse.

I can be feeling my ugliest, wearing no makeup, pajama pants, and a T-shirt that I’ve had for decades, glasses covering my eyes rather than my contacts, and he’ll make me feel more beautiful than a Victoria’s Secret model. The way his eyes devour every inch of me, his heart beating wildly beneath my hand, and his body’s reaction to me that I canfeelso fully pressed against me makes me feel like I’m WonderWoman.

Ten minutes ago, I was in the mood to do absolutely nothing. I was all settled in for a full day of being lazy and honestly was looking forward toit.

Doing nothing just got run over by a steamroller, and now all I can think about doing is…Andy.

“Andy,” I moan, stretching my neck to the side as his mouth makes its way from my mouth down my jaw, continuing its jaunt until he’s found my overly sensitive breasts. Getting older isn’t entirely for the birds. I’m hornier than I’ve ever been — though that could be only because of Andy — and my breasts have become so tender, so sensitive, that I can go from zero to holy-moly-I’m-going-to-come-from-one-swipe-of-the-tongue inseconds.

“Whatcha need, baby?” he mumbles, still taking his time to kiss, suck, lick. He bites down gently, causing sparks to shoot from my fingertips, and I arch my back inresponse.

“You,” Igasp.

“Oh, you’ve gotme.”

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