What Her Dad Doesn't Know(13)

He stands up and goes around the desk, his hand outstretched. I stand up too and shake his hand. It’s quick and light, and then he drops it. I see him turn as though he’s going to lead me out in dismay.

“Wait. That’s it?” I ask, not wanting the meeting to be over. My throat closes up and I have to force out my words. This was all turning upside down. He was supposed to kiss me again and we’d somehow end up in his bed and he was going to fuck my brains out. I could feel it slipping out of my hands like water.“What about yesterday...”

“Noelle. Look.” He pauses. “You’re a nice girl. And you’ve grown up into a nice woman.”

His words hang in the air, and I want to hold my hand up to stop them because I know what’s coming next. I don’t want to hear it.

“But your father and I... It just wouldn’t be right. I’ve been there your entire life Noelle. I’ve seen you when you were a baby, a kid. I mean, I’m almost twenty years older than you for Christ’s sake. You’re young and beautiful.” So why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing? I thought as he continued. “You deserve someone who’ll keep up with you, as much as it pains me to think about that.”

My heart skips a beat.

“Pains you? You mean, you feel the same way? Since when?”

Andrew closes his eyes and sighs.

“That kiss wasn’t the kiss of someone who gave a damn about how young I am.”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t deny it. Finally he opens his azure eyes again.

“Since your first year of college. That’s why I disappeared. I was falling for you too fast. I owe your dad so much Noelle, I don’t think you can even begin to understand... I just couldn’t do that to him. I had to be loyal to your father. I was afraid if I stayed that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself anymore. I clearly couldn’t, since last night was the first time we’d been alone and I couldn’t keep my hands off of you.”

I’m staring at him. He was saying everything I wanted him to say. Right of out my teenage fantasies. Only this time it wasn’t a fantasy. It was all real. And here I was, thinking he’d detached himself from our family because he was in love with his work. When really, he was in love with me.

Before I could sort out the thoughts in my head and ask him, he closed the gap between us. He pauses, letting me stop him if I really want to, but I don’t. Not one bit. Slowly, slowly, he press his lips to mine. I tilt my head, pressing back this time. His hand moves to my neck, cradling my head and pulling me close. My breath is hot and ragged, a low moan escaping from my lips. Arousal is spreading through me, causing wetness to leak down my thighs. His tongue sweeps forward, tasting me again, and I let my head fall back to receive him. My hands run all over him, up the back of his neck and into his hair, along his jaw and back down over those broad, broad shoulders and down his hard biceps. After a long moment, he pulls back.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” he whispers, his voice crackling with lust. It’s a feeble attempt to stave off the inevitable.

“Maybe we should.”

“Your dad. He’ll kill me for falling in love with his daughter.” He’s trying, I’ll give him that. But his eyes are straying down to the front of my blouse.

“It’s too late,” I say when his eyes finally drift back up. “I already have.”

I can feel his breath whisper over me. Everything is still and quiet, waiting for Andrew to decide. My eyes search his. I’m here, they say. I’m yours. And just when I think that he’s going to do the good thing, the right thing, and step away, he doesn’t. He kisses me back, hard and potent and fast.

And just like that, we tip over the edge.

My hands are searching his body, pulling off his jacket, tugging at fistfuls of his shirt. I know that I need to undo the buttons, but I can’t seem to make my fingers work fast enough. I want us skin to skin, to feel the heat of him against my own. His kisses are getting messy and careless, raining down along my jaw and down to my neck. I work off his shirt at last, popping off a button, and then I’m exploring everywhere, trying to memorize all of the exposed skin. He’s all muscle everywhere, hard and smooth and strong.

We fall backwards against the desk, and he lifts me up like I weigh nothing, depositing me on the hard wood. All the while, little nips on the soft skin of my neck make my back arch and my breath turn to gasps. His hands are all over me, tugging apart the bow at my blouse, pulling it up over my head and throwing it onto the ground. The pink lace does nothing to cover up my nipples, hard and begging to be touched. He cups them gently, his thumb caressing over the pink tips before traveling downward. His hands are tugging at my skirt now, the stretchy fabric giving way as he pushes it up to my hips.