Flames Of Seduction- Book 1

Chapter Sixteen

Before me, a relaxed Andrew is apparently sleeping with his shirt and pants still on, lying on my bed. Am I hallucinating? His hand is tucked under his head and his eyes are closed. The posture is so pure that I want to attack his shirt. God damn it, what is he doing here? Is he supposed to be at his apartment by now?

I think he's sleeping. The good thing is he's on one side of the bed, so I have some room for sleeping. Or can I sleep next to him? Perhaps I should go and sleep on the couch. But firstly, I need to get dressed.

I grab the clothes I want to wear and strip from the towel, knowing he's asleep. After I put the pants and underwear and bra, I turn around while putting the shirt on. But then I see his piercing icy blue eyes staring at me with such a desire. I swallow; he's been watching me while I thought he was asleep.

I quickly put the top on and adjust it. He doesn't say a word, nor does he need to. His playful smirk explains everything to me, now. He saw me naked. Who are you kidding? He saw you naked before, especially there.

I only shot him a dirty glare, knowing words don't work deep into his thick skull. Just wait till I have the same opportunity Andrew, I will take a picture of it.

"Hmm, what is that look?" he finally speaks. I stand on my side of the bed and cross my arms.

"Why are you here?" I ignore his question.

He chuckles and pushes up, leaning against the headboard, "I believe I have to stay tonight,"

I scoff and roll my eyes, "and why is that?" Without answering my question, he starts to unbutton his shirt and then he takes it off in almost slow motion so I can see every bit of it.

When I think he's finished with his show, which follows by me staring at his heavy- set six pack solid chest, he gets off the bed and starts to unfasten his belt and unzip his pants. He's not going to strip before my eyes, is he? Once he makes sure, he's just in his boxers, he hops in the bed where he laid.

"I know Laura you wanted me to stay; I could read it in your eyes." He says and pats the bed.

I decide to give in and sleep next to him, so I lie down on the bed. "And you just stayed? Good, next time, why don't you also wear my underwears, you are free to do that."

"I will do whatever you want me to do, Laura, except that," He takes my hand and places a kiss on the back of my hand. I feel so wanted and so precious by his action, but can't help the question lurking around my mind. Will you cancel the contract if I ask you?

When he releases my hand, I feel the disappointment in my veins. But much to my surprise when he reaches for the night table, he doesn't turn off the light, but taking the Jane Eyre copy I always keep next to my bed.

He flips through the pages and a boyish smile plants on his face,

"It began calm, and indeed, as far as delivery and pitch of voice went," he starts to read a random page in a British accent. My mouth falls open, he can read in British. "It was calm to the end: an earnestly felt, yet strictly restrained zeal breathed soon in the distinct accents, and prompted the nervous language. This grew to force -- compressed, condensed, controlled. The heart was thrilled, the mind astonished, by the power of the preacher: neither were softened." He finishes the line and I find myself, lying fully on the bed toward him and watching how wonderfully he spells each word in pure British.

"You have British accent?" I ask.

"Yes, my father was British. His mother was Irish. British accent was something I had to learn." How come I didn't know about this? Think about it, I don't know anything about him.