When Connie finally woke up, it was dark. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well. Now she was hungry, again. She found a t-shirt and pulled it over her camisole, then quietly headed down to the kitchen. She grabbed everything she needed to make a sandwich and sat down at the kitchen island to make herself a late night snack.
As she was finishing up her meal, she heard footsteps heading toward the kitchen. Knowing that it was only Andrew she didn’t look up right away.
“Up late aren’t you?” she heard him ask.
“Well, I slept a long time.”
“Yeah, I guess you did.”
She heard the fridge open and then close, and she glanced up in time to see his chest. Then gasped when she realized the only thing he was wearing were his boxers. He followed her line of vision, looking down, then looked back up her, not seeming to be bothered by the fact that he was nearly naked.
“Jeez Andrew!” she said, trying to avert her gaze away from him, but her eyes kept betraying her, glancing back in his direction.
“I didn’t realize you’d be down here,” he said, “You’re lucky I even put this on.”
“You could at least practice a little modesty!” she snapped, more angry at herself for being so turned on by the sight of him.
He shrugged like he didn’t have a care in the world. “My house, my rules,” he said, taking a swing of his beer.
“But you have a guest in your house now!” she said indignantly.
He merely grumbled, as if he didn’t agree with her last statement.
She stood up suddenly, then glared at him. “Fine, if you’re so comfortable….”
She snatched her t-shirt off.
His eyes darkened and his breathing changed, when he saw her in a silky camisole that clung to her body.
“What are you doing Constance?” he asked, clenching his beer bottle tightly.
“Well since you are so comfy about walking around in what you sleep in, I figured I didn’t need to constrict myself in this awful t-shirt.” She took a step back and waved her hands down the front of her body. “This is what I sleep in.”
She looked him in the eyes and instantly regretted her impulsive move. His eyes were mixed with a coolness and heat.
“You don't want to play this game Constance,” he said, shaking his head, “because I sleep in less than this.”
The mental image of him sleeping in nothing set her body on fire.
His gaze roamed her body from head to toe. Then he placed his beer on the counter, shut his eyes tight and turned away from her. His fists were balled up tight as if he were battling with himself.
“Constance, put your t-shirt back on,” he demanded through clenched teeth.
“Why should I?” she asked, still fuming. She pointed a finger at him. “This is exactly why this ‘truce’ won’t wor–”
The next thing she knew, he was there in a flash, surrounding her, in her face. He wrapped his hands around her arms and hauled her against his chest. The gasp that had risen up in her throat was snatch away from her as Drew’s lips came crashing down on hers.
Her eyes grew wide in shock. He let go of her arms and palmed her face. She stood there frozen, with his mouth against hers. He felt her tense like she was going to resist, but he slid his hands into her hair and tilted her head back to have better access to her mouth.
His tongue slid across her mouth and found its way inside. As soon as their tongues touched, something snapped inside her and she was lost. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him closer to her body. He seemed surprised for a moment at her reaction, and then he let his hands slide down to her waist.
She felt her nipples harden, and a moan drifted out of her mouth as she felt the hard peaks press against his solid chest.
Connie felt her mind drifting. Drifting back into time, when she was sixteen years old. Back when she wondered what it would be like to kiss Drew McAllister. Eventually, she had gotten the courage to finally stop dancing around with the teenage flirting and tell him how she felt about him and was going to take charge and just do it. Just kiss him.
But she never got the chance.
She tore her mouth away from his. They stood there staring at each other, breathing heavily, both a little shocked and confused.
A different wave of emotions crashed down around her from sixteen years ago.
She touched her fingers to her lips and shook her head in disbelief.
She looked up at Andrew.
She felt the tears well up and she turned before he could see them and ran off to her room.
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