Fated to be Mine (20 page)

His words are not helping to diminish the pulse inside me as my hands travel the expanse of his back again, slightly grazing over the top of his ass before tracing along his sides.

“I could say the same thing about you.”

He makes a low groan as my hands continue roaming about his body, reacquainting themselves with muscles that haven’t been accessible for weeks. My lips brush against his again, causing us both to smile.

“You know this no sex agreement is killing me, right?”

Andrew’s tongue traces my collarbone, making my head fall hard against the wall with a loud thud. The pain doesn’t even register as he continues licking at my skin. My fingers entwine in his hair, holding him to me as my breathing speeds up, becoming more erratic and shallow.

“I know. Me too,” I say breathlessly. “But we have to do it this way, even if it kills us right now.”

And right now I feel as if I’m in front of a firing squad, begging to just have one last taste of pleasure before I die. And what a way to go, death by Andrew. Our lips connect one last time, slow and sweet, warm and soft before he rests his forehead against mine. Our combined breaths come in short pants, our hands moving to cup each other’s face. He’s my addiction, my drug, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to stop him.

We pull away from the wall, hand in hand, and walk back to the kitchen area to finish what Andrew had started before we got distracted with each other’s bodies. Filling two mugs with steaming hot coffee, I give one to Andrew and I lean against the counter to watch him. His biceps flex as he brings the cup to his lips, his eyes staring intently at me over the rim.

I clear my throat and shake my head, needing to keep my mind clear. “So what were you searching for in my fridge?”

“Well I was going to cook up some bacon and eggs, but since your refrigerator is almost bare, I can’t exactly do that. What do you eat in the mornings?”

I shrug my shoulders and look down into my coffee. “I don’t usually eat breakfast. It just never crosses my mind. I’m usually rushing out of here most days of the week so all I have time to grab is coffee. The caffeine keeps me going all morning.”

Andrew frowns, tilting his head slightly as he looks at me. “That is not going to do, love. You need to eat more.”

I look down at myself and scoff quietly. Eat more? If anything I need to eat less. Can he not see the excess lining around my stomach and thighs?

“I eat enough. I don’t want to get any fatter than I already am.”

I know my depreciating self-image isn’t accurate and everyone always tells me the opposite of what is in my head. But the years of neglect and various other issues haven’t helped in seeing me for anything other than what’s in my mind’s eye. Andrew must realize this because he places his mug on the counter and closes the short distance between us. He pulls me close to his body, arms protectively wrapping around my waist as he kisses the top of my head.

“You have nothing to worry about in that department. You are perfect to me, each and every piece of you.”

“I just don’t see what you see.”

“Then I will make you see. Believe me. I have never seen a more beautiful woman in the entire world than you.”

And since he’s traveled the world I guess he would know. However, the nagging little voice in my head says that a man as gorgeous and perfect as Andrew also needs to have a stick figure supermodel on his arm. One that matches his beauty without working at it. I mean, he couldn’t possibly be happy with just a plain Jane like me, could he?

My head slumps forward, resting on his sternum, causing him to laugh while stroking my hair lovingly. “Now that we have that cleared up, how about some breakfast?”

I pick my head up and laugh. “Well I can make toast or I can make toast, and let’s see, there’s also toast.”

“Well with what you’ve told me of your culinary skills before, I’m almost afraid for you to even try making that.”

My mouth drops open and he laughs even more. Picking up the dishrag, I toss it at him, narrowly missing his head, causing us both to break out in hysterics. “Just for that, you’re going hungry. I am capable of making toast, thank you very much. I mean, how hard can it be? The toaster does all the work.”

Andrew raises an eyebrow and I scoff. Really, how hard can it be? Then the guilt sets in, having Andrew here and not being able to give him more than toast for breakfast. I open my cupboard doors and stare at the few things inside. Perhaps he’s right. Maybe I do need to keep more things in my apartment. I’m not sure why we didn’t grab more things yesterday at the grocery store. Apparently all those bags didn’t carry the early morning necessities.

Arms wrap around my middle, pulling me into his firm body while his chin rests on my shoulder. I can almost hear his thoughts as he stares at my selection of Honey Nut Cheerios and Cream of Wheat boxes, my only breakfast food in the apartment. Andrew lets out a sigh and I poke him with my elbow, making us both laugh a little.

Finally deciding that I
can
make Cream of Wheat with our toast, I try to get everything together for it, but with Andrew draped across my back like a clingy monkey it makes it increasingly difficult. I try to pull away, but his arms tighten around my middle, pulling me closer so I can’t get away. Sighing, I give up attempting to get down my measuring cups and turn to face him instead.

“You know, this would be a lot easier if I had some wiggle room.” My hands stroke his cheek, feeling that early morning stubble rough against my fingers. The smile on his face slows my heart until it matches his own rhythm.

“You can wiggle all you want against me, love. I won’t complain. In fact, I encourage it.”

I kiss his nose, looking into his bright shining eyes. “No more wiggling for you, Mister, until I feed you breakfast. According to some people, it’s an important meal of the day. Personally I could take it or leave it.”

Andrew opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something but then quickly closes it. There’s a flash of humor in his eyes and it makes me wonder what he was about to say. My guess would be some smartass comment, or sexual innuendo since that’s the route we’ve steered into with this seemingly innocent conversation. Well, not too innocent I guess.

The amusement still dances in his eyes and there’s an underlying fire burning brightly as well, igniting my skin right down to my core. My fingers continue to stroke his cheek, trailing lightly down to the edge of his jaw. Breakfast is briefly forgotten as his lips find mine, teasing and tasting, slowly exploring what he already knows by heart. My mouth is his as we press up against each other, each fighting the overwhelming urge to go back in the bedroom and stay there until we’re sweaty and spent. It’s becoming more and more impossible to fight this attraction between us; pretend that we didn’t happen in London. But for the sake of our relationship, if there is one, we need to try. I pull back on a weak smile, missing his mouth against mine the minute it’s gone.

“If we don’t stop we’ll both starve.”

He nods. “You’re right. We’re not playing fair right now. I promise from here on out to behave in a more appropriate manner. You go sit down and relax. I’ll take care of breakfast.”

“You do know that I’m perfectly capable of making us breakfast, right? Besides, you’re my guest and I’m fairly certain there’s an unwritten rule about the guest not making the meals all the time.”

Calling Andrew my guest feels strange and unnatural, especially when referring to him being here with me. Guest implies temporary visitor and as much as I fight it I know that’s not what I want. He’s more than that to me, not that I will admit it out loud to him.

Getting a pot out from the cabinet he smirks and points to a chair at the breakfast bar. “Yes I know you’re capable of many things but I want to do this for you.” He closes the small distance between us, running his hands up and down my arms. “I want to do everything for you.”

Damn. How can you argue with that logic? I attempt my best pout, but it comes off as less than convincing. “Fine. But I’m making the toast.” I glance between us, noting that we’re still not technically wearing any clothes. “But first we should probably get dressed.”

After scraping off the slightly blackened pieces of toast, breakfast was good. Okay, so I suck at cooking. Eventually, I’ll get better. Maybe with practice, or private cooking lessons. Or we’ll just learn to live off of takeout, but as long as Andrew’s around that will never happen. Watching him fluidly move around the kitchen is like watching an elegantly coordinated dance. Everything is seamless, flowing from one thing to the next, never a hiccup or glitch, just perfection. I swear there’s nothing this man can’t do.

“You make your Cream of Wheat differently than I do,” I say, rinsing the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.

Andrew gives me a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Well, every time I make it, it comes out in a giant clump. That’s how it’s supposed to be, isn’t it?”

He laughs, wiping off the stove. “I’m pretty sure it’s not meant to be lumpy. That’s why it’s called
Cream
of Wheat.”

“Well, my way is hearty. A stick-to-your-bones type of breakfast.”

“However you like it, Tessa. You won’t find me arguing with you about it.”

We finish cleaning up, content on being domestic hermits for the day. Andrew’s grand plan for us this weekend: stay inside and hang out. To me, that’s paradise. No running around the city, no dealing with traffic or tourists. Just the two of us, hanging out, spending time together to really get to know the other. That is priceless and means more to me than any trip we could possibly take.

So our day consists of cribbage and Go Fish, which apparently even for a kid’s game I still suck at. We watch some godawful movies and have popcorn wars like we did back at his place in London. Andrew is a lover of bad movie nights like me. There’s nothing better than a horribly stupid comedy or an old Eighties movie that you thought was so awesome back in the day and watch now and can’t believe that you liked it.

Once we get sick of the TV, Andrew picks up my Kindle and starts to read a book to me. I lay on the couch with my head in his lap, listening to his sexy voice that makes my panties melt. Andrew reading a romance novel out loud is my new favorite thing. If I could get a recording of him reading every single book that I own, I would never leave my house. Who needs Audible when you have Andrew?

It makes me realize that I want to have this every single day for the rest of my life. We didn’t do anything fantastic, just spent time together, being with each other, making the other laugh. Andrew kept me close to his side all day, always within reach, always touching me or holding my hand. What’s more is he still thought I was sexy, even though I was in nothing but sweats and a messy ponytail.

“You look beautiful,” Andrew whispers in my ear.

“You’re crazy,” I reply back, leaning my head against his shoulder. We just stare out the window, looking at the lights in the now darkened street. Soft music floats around us from Andrew’s specialized playlist that he created. Each and every song deals with second chances and finding the love of a lifetime. It takes everything in me not to read too much into it, but with those powerful songs it’s hard not to.

His arms wrap around me and he shakes his head. “Only about you.”

I ruin the moment by yawning loudly. As always my timing is impeccable. His soft blue eyes find mine. “Tired?”

I nod as he picks me up, carrying me just like he did last night to the bedroom. My head is still resting on his shoulder as we walk through my apartment, turning off the lights and locking the door. I nuzzle my nose into his neck, one of my favorite places on him. Andrew puts me on the floor at the foot of my bed and runs his hands down my arms.

“I’ll be right back. I just want to go get ready in the bathroom.”

He smiles and nods but I can feel his gaze on my retreating form as I walk down the hall, needing to brush my teeth and gargle about a gallon of mouthwash. I lean back against the closed bathroom door and can’t help but smile. Never once did I think I’d be so enthralled with a man before I met Andrew. Our day was perfect. It was everything we needed to get to know each other. Temporary amnesia be damned, there’s no way that I will ever be able to stop thinking about Andrew and what we could have together.

I reenter the bedroom to find Andrew propped up against the headboard of my bed, completely naked from the waist up and only allowing the sheet to cover his lap. A million different scenarios play through my mind, none of which is rated less than NC-17. Why does a man with a body like his want someone like me? That is the great question of the universe.

Flicking the light switch off, I crawl into bed next to the Adonis, tracing his muscles with my fingers in the muted light. Andrew lowers himself onto the bed, pulling me to his side. His lips find my head, giving repeated kisses upon my crown. My arm drapes across his chest, letting my head rest on his shoulder. Our bodies mold together like two perfect puzzle pieces.

Our lips find each other in the dark, pressing lightly together, leaving us both with a contented sigh at the end.

“Thank you for today. It was perfect.”

He nods his head in agreement. “It was everything I’ve ever wanted. I just want to be with you. You, my dearest Tessa, are everything to me. If you told me you wanted to fly around the world, I would make it happen. If you said that you wanted to just lie in bed all day and stare at the ceiling, I would crawl next to you and count the dust flying through the air with you. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I want to be there next to you.”

My heart expands just a fraction more as I kiss him softly and snuggle back into the comfort of his chest, falling into another night of peaceful sleep.