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An American Cinderella

Page 35

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His chest was a work of art. Playing rugby was good for him. He was lean and trim, but with enough muscle that I could play doctor and identify each ab. I let one hand touch his skin, feeling his heat and strength beneath me while the other kept him trapped in his shirt.

He didn’t fight me, letting me keep him blindfolded and pinned for just a moment as I kissed him. I could feel him harden between my legs and I suddenly wished neither one of us had on pants. They felt like far too much restrictive clothing now. I thought about standing up and shimmying out of them, but that would require breaking our kiss.

His hands tugged out of his shirt, and caressed my back. I pulled the shirt free of his head, wanting to see his beautiful face. His blue eyes were dark with lust as he worked the clasp on the back of my bra.

I reached back, unhooking it myself. I let the silky bra fall forward, biting my lip and watching his face as I showed myself to him. His eyes widened and darkened. Beneath me, I could feel his excitement grow.

He breathed in hard before diving forward and kissing the tender flesh. I hissed with delight as he took a nipple into his mouth. His hand cradled my other breast, holding me like I was his treasure.

I wanted him so badly my entire body ached. I wanted his touch everywhere. I craved the caress of his fingers along every inch of my skin. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted another man in my entire life.


It was like being drunk I felt so crazy for him. Irrational need possessed me as I kissed him, grinding my hips into his.

He responded in kind, his hands everywhere on my skin. His mouth nibbled and sucked, making me gasp and moan with delight while his hands held me close to him.

I was about two minutes from orgasm and we still had on our pants.

The room suddenly echoed with a bang on my door. We both froze, our faces centimeters away from one another and breathing hard.

“It’s probably just Mrs. West downstairs,” I whispered. “She’s always needing to borrow baking supplies.”

The entire room vibrated as the person outside banged on the door again. There was no way it was my eighty-year-old tiny little neighbor.

“Henry!” A male voice called out from the other side of the door.

Henry’s eyes went wide and he pulled back.

“Is that Andre?” I asked, recognizing the voice. What in the world was he doing banging on my door? He was going to make the neighbors come out in a moment.

“Let me see what he wants,” Henry said. He gave me a quick peck on the lips before scooting out from underneath me and heading to the door. I stared after him for a moment before realizing I didn’t have anything on my upper body. I managed to grab my throw blanket and wrap it around my shoulders before Henry wrenched open the door.

Andre stood there, his hand poised to bang yet again.

“You better have a good reason,” Henry told him, his voice low and dangerous.

“It’s important.” Andre looked at Henry and then gave me a polite nod over Henry’s shoulder.

I blushed like a tomato and pulled the blanket a little bit tighter. It was pretty obvious what the two of us had been up to.

I tried not to listen in on their conversation. I knew it was a rude thing to do, but I couldn’t help it. My apartment was just too small and their conversation too important to me.

“This couldn’t wait?” Henry asked, his voice dark. His bare back was strong and I liked the way his jeans looked on his ass. They looked better on my couch, but I could appreciate them from here.

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Andre replied, his voice calm and collected. “I’m just doing what I’m told.”

Henry crossed his arms. “Did you tell him I’m busy right now?”

Andre nodded. “I was told he needed you now. No questions.”

“He probably just forgot the freaking WiFi code again,” Henry grumbled. He glanced back at me and I did my best to smile. He turned back to Andre. “Twenty minutes?”

Andre shook his head slowly. “I was instructed to pick you up immediately.”

Henry let out a string of curses that assured me he had been telling the truth about being in the army.

“You better tell mum I’m going to murder my brother,” Henry informed Andre. “Let me get dressed.”



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