Andrew can't keep still, even though I rest my hand on his stomach. His whole body flexes beneath my palm as I bob my head, breathing in the growing scent of his arousal. His muscular thighs want to work. His ass tightens against my palm, and my mind is filled with images of what he would look like, fucking into me, everything so tight and fierce. He'd have me whimpering again, of that I'm certain, but Greg's left me too sore to go that far tonight.
His hand hovers over the back of my head as though he wants to control my motion but doesn't feel it's appropriate. When he can't hold off, his touch isn't domineering. He doesn't force me down, although I wouldn't mind. Instead, he throws his head back, clenches his eyes closed, and feels.
And I love it when his cock kicks in my mouth, his arousal salt-sweet and warm as his heart. I love it when his fingers tangle in my curls as he jerks and twitches through his release. I love how he gazes up at me like I'm Aphrodite in the flesh.
And when he laughs like I'm the biggest birthday surprise he ever received, I laugh too.
We don't sleep right away. He wraps himself around me, like a big spoon to my small spoon, and I ask him how he met Tyler. When I find out they met in a group home, the ache in my chest is too much. I know Tyler's history wasn't as peachy as my own but finding out that some of his darker moments were with Andrew and his brothers makes it worse and better all at the same time. They've been together through thick and thin, and suddenly I see why Tyler's idea has been adopted by these men with so few questions.
They bonded in hardship, and bonds like that are the most difficult to break.
21
DAMIEN
When Andrew comes down for breakfast, the rest of us are already chomping through cereal at the table. The conversation has been sparse, more delivered to break the silence than to share anything in particular.
He appears in the doorway, freshly showered, his blond hair still wet. There’s a sparkle in his ridiculously blue eyes that wasn’t there last night. I swear it’s like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
Man, if that’s what sex with Sandy can do to a man, I want to be next.
“Morning,” he says, heading to the coffee pot to pour himself some black wake-up juice.
“Morning,” Arden says, the smirk on his face even more pronounced than usual.
“Everything okay?” Tyler asks. He’s holding a spoonful of Cheerios in the air, waiting for Andrew’s reply.
“Everything’s fine,” Andrew says. Then after he takes a sip of his coffee, he adds, “Sandy’s fine.”
Tyler puts the cereal in his mouth and chews, staring at the table in front of him. I catch eyes with Greg, which is always like falling into the black abyss but today is somehow less terrifying. If fucking Sandy can take the darkness out of Greg, it must be like experiencing real magic.
“Damien,” Tyler says. “You can stay and look after Sandy today.”
Everyone turns to me, and I feel my cheeks heating like a fucking volcano. It’s the thing I hate about myself; my inability to hide my embarrassment.
Although why I should feel embarrassed, I have no idea. I’m not a virgin by any stretch. I know my way around a woman’s body better than I know the route to Deep Repairs, and I can drive that in my sleep.
“Maybe you can take her shopping?”
“She needs pajamas,” Andrew says.
“She wouldn’t need them in my bed.” Arden snorts, stuffing a huge spoonful of his ludicrous multicolored cereal into his mouth.
“Well, she isn’t in your bed, is she,” Tyler says. He pulls out a wad of cash from his back pocket. “Use this. Get her whatever she needs.”
“I’ve got money, T,” I say, but he shakes his head.
“Let me do this.”
I guess if he really wants me to spend his money on Sandy, I will.
I wouldn’t mind spending my own. Seeing her dressed up pretty in something I bought her would feel awesome.
Everyone finishes their breakfast in awkward silence, and I’m glad that I’m missing out on the ride to work this morning. I’m sure that Arden will loosen them all up within the hour. He has a way about him that no one can resist for long. I guess every group of friends needs a joker to lighten the mood.
When they leave, I clear up the mess, and I’m elbow-deep in dishwater when I hear footsteps on the stairs.
Sandy appears in the doorway, dressed in one of Andrew’s shirts and what looks like a pair of his shorts. Her hair is mussed from sleep, and maybe whatever they got up to last night. “So you get to chaperone me today.” She rolls her eyes but smiles at the same time.