Page 35 of Contingently Yours

Lucas

As Andrew peels himself off me, our skin sticking together, I add it to the list of new and surprising sensations I never imagined existed.

My body is still tingling from his touch, and the loss of contact stirs a need in me I didn’t know was possible to feel while being this spent.

Is this the part where he goes back to Andrew-the-asshole?

I was really hoping for something different this time, especially after the way he reacted to our verbal throwdown in the sunroom.

‘ Sweetheart .’ When he said the word this time, it didn’t feel like he was mocking me.

It felt like… well, kind of like he thinks of me as a sweetheart.

Watching his naked body flex as he steps off the end of the mattress, I’m embarrassed by how much lust it stirs in me.

This can’t be real. No matter how good it felt, no matter how surprisingly thoughtful and attentive he was, it’s Andrew—it can’t be real.

He disappears, dropping to the floor in a flash, landing with a thud and an oof noise. Shit. Did he trip? I lean up on my elbows, but he pops up just as quickly.

“I’m fine!” he calls out, heading toward the bathroom, but glancing back and pointing at me in warning. “Stay there.”

This is all so confusing. I can’t say I minded discovering a part of my body could make me feel such bliss, but it’s still tender.

I can still feel the sensation of his finger in my channel and little aftershocks.

I really hate that he was the one to show me that reality, and yet, part of me is celebrating that it was he who did.

I don’t think I could imagine letting anyone else be that intimate with me.

What are we? How did we get here? And why do I want someone so unpredictable?

Lying back, I close my eyes and let out a long breath. I feel…good. Physically. Amazing, really. Knowing I might have to prepare for another emotional war in a matter of minutes, though, is not the kind of dynamic I’m looking for.

Listen to me… I wasn’t even looking for any kind of dynamic.

I was perfectly content thinking that a relationship wasn’t in the cards for me.

I’m thirty-seven, for crying out loud. Marriage, babies, the common path that people expect—well, I’m getting a little too old to think it was ever going to happen.

Honestly, call me selfish, but the thought of taking care of someone else’s needs is a bit exhausting.

I’ve been doing it my whole life. I’d do it again in a heartbeat for Mom and the girls, but I don’t know that I have it in me to be a doting boyfriend, fiancé, or husband again.

I sure as shit got it wrong when I tried.

Andrew was right about that—it is nice not having to make decisions for once.

When I’m with him, I don’t have to think.

Maybe in some strange way, I do trust him.

Something warm and wet touches my stomach, making me flinch. I open my eyes and gape at the sight—Andrew, wiping off my stomach with a wet cloth. He’s cleaning me up?

“I… I can do it,” I babble, taking the rag from him.

It’s probably just his fluids hang-up and the thought of sleeping next to me while I’m a mess.

Andrew doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who’s thoughtful after sex, except then I remember what else he said.

He told me he wanted to mark me up and didn’t want me to wash it away.

As I swipe the rag over my dick, my face heats at the memory.

Why is just the thought making me hard again?

Setting the rag on the nightstand, I lean back.

My neck touches an arm as my head hits the pillow.

When did he reach over? I start lifting my head back up, so he doesn’t think I’m trying to force him to cuddle with me, but his hand grips my shoulder, tugging me closer to his side, almost like he wants me to stay put. This is…unexpected.

I blink at his profile. Eyes closed, his sigh sounds contented from where he’s resting on his own pillow. I have no idea what this means. Is he really not going to freak out?

“You, uh, okay?” he asks, motioning to my lower half with his chin.

Jesus. “Uh…yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

I’m so not good. I have no idea what just happened.

One moment, we wanted to rip each other’s throats out, and the next, he was looking at me like I’d cracked the code to his soul, and it showed me the sensitive little boy who lives inside the prickly man.

And then he turned me into a puddle with a few words and kisses that made my toes curl.

The worst part is that I still feel like a puddle and want more of those kisses, but he’s trained me to be afraid to want those things with him.

“So…” I preface to fill the silence, having no idea how to.

I remember something from our sparring in the sunroom, though, and now that I have, I can’t get it out of my brain.

He said he fucks interns. Am I just like another intern?

Does he get some kick out of having dalliances with people in his family’s employ?

“What’s with the intern kink?” I venture, holding my breath for a bitter truth I don’t want to hear.

He snorts and glances over at me. “ That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

I keep my gaze fixed on the ceiling and shrug. “I just wondered…did you do it on purpose to piss your family off or…do you have a thing for messing around with co-workers?”

“Interns aren’t exactly co-workers. It’d be pretty shitty of me to be the son of the owner of the company and take advantage of someone who’s trying to get their foot in the door.”

“Wait…so, you didn’t sleep with any interns?”

Sighing, he retrieves his arm and reaches for the comforter, tucking his long legs underneath it.

I scramble to do the same when he holds it aloft for me, baffled on so many levels.

When I lean back again, he slips his arm behind my shoulders for a second time, and I realize this feels a lot like we’re about to go to bed naked. Together.

“I took one of the board members out one night, and the chief of editing a few months later. There was one intern who asked me on a date—that I declined—but she wouldn’t give up, bless her.

” Flashing me a smirk, he adds, “Can’t say that hurt my ego, but apparently my dad and brother noticed and assumed the worst.”

“So…you let them think so?”

Grimacing, he shifts lower, nestling himself deeper into his pillow.

Deeper and closer to me. “It may have coincidentally been the same week that the bill from my company card came in, and they saw charges from the Super Bowl on there. In my defense, I took two of their best-selling authors to the game with me. I still don’t see how that’s not a valid corporate expense, but they didn’t exactly give me a chance to explain. ”

I don’t understand him. How does he not see he’s the orchestrator of his own misery?

“Why would you let them think the worst?”

Scoffing, he rolls to his side and tugs for me to do the same.

It’s awkward and perfect all at the same time, even though I’m not sure where to put my hands, so just leave them squished between us.

He’s so warm and smooth, strong and…real.

God, I didn’t know how much I missed having a body next to mine.

“They were going to think it anyway,” he mumbles, eyes closed. “What’s the point?”

There are so many arguments I could make against that, but I find myself at a loss on how to address them.

I’m too baffled. He possessed enough morals to know it would be wrong to fraternize with an intern, and yet he has no qualms letting his family think otherwise because they assume he’s capable of that behavior?

Why bear a cross you don’t actually own?

“Get some sleep. You’ve got a house to sell tomorrow,” he murmurs, brushing his nose over the hair at my peak and running his open palm up and down my back.

As I lie here mystified, everything seems to fade away except one glaring fact. There’s no pillow between us, and that was a cognizant decision on Andrew’s part.

◆◆◆

In the morning, the dream I’m having turns out not to be a dream at all.

The damp lips on my neck, placing kisses there.

The hot, hard flesh rubbing back and forth against mine.

The firm grip on my ass cheek, urging my thigh to slink over the top of his.

Andrew is ravenous, and I’m helpless to follow in his footsteps, gripping his back to press him more tightly to me for more of that satisfying friction between us.

“G-good morning,” I pant awkwardly, not knowing how long I’ve been fondling him.

“Mm, morning,” he purrs, nipping my earlobe and jerking his hips hard into mine. “Thanks for the unexpected wake-up.”

“Wh-what?”

“Looks like I’m not the only one with a dick-grabbing problem in his sleep. Zero complaints from me, by the way.”

Shit . I did not. Did I?

A chuckle resounds in my ear. “You did,” he whispers, as though reading my thoughts.

Crap. I’ve been around him so long, I’m adopting his habits.

I’m about to apologize, but he said he has zero complaints.

Plus, it’s getting difficult to concentrate on a clear thought.

He smells so good, and I’m enamored of the way his muscles flex beneath my touch.

I’ve never felt this light during sex, as though my body could float away.

I’ve also never wanted to crawl inside someone the way I feel like doing right now.

I can’t get close enough. With each slip of his glans over mine, a flurry of sparks plumes inside my navel, amplifying that need.

How has someone I couldn’t stand become so addictive?

“I never sleep naked,” I rationalize, remembering I should explain my new wake-up behavior.

His grip on my ass cheek shifts. A fingertip traces through the seam between my cheeks, and he nips my lower lip. “That’s a shame.”