His eyes darkened. “Then let’s rewrite history.” Taking off his jacket, he laid it on the scratched hardwood floor like a makeshift blanket.

“Romance at its finest,” I mumbled.

Andrew laughed softly while our gazes locked. My doubts were forgotten as I tumbled into his arresting eyes. Location didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the feel of him inside me. We began right where we’d left off, lips locked, bodies pressed together, and our moans of pleasure shattering the dusty silence. He guided me down onto the jacket. Grabbing the hem of my t-shirt, reluctance churned in my stomach. The last time Andrew saw my scars was in the middle of our first and last argument. He hadn’t uttered a word about them since.

As if he felt my body stiffen, he lifted his mouth from mine. Concern creased his eyebrows together. “If you don’t want to do this, say the word and we will stop.”

“No! It’s just….” I hesitated. “Usually it’s darker.”

Awareness dawned in his eyes. “You are completely and utterly beautiful. Do not hide from me, Haven. I want you, all of you.”

The plea in his voice untied the knots in my stomach. Andrew didn’t fall in the same league as the other men I had been with. He saw beyond my body to the fragile soul underneath. This time when Andrew inched my t-shirt over my head, I didn’t stop him. Resisting the urge to cover myself with my hands, they curled into fist at my sides.

Andrew drank in my half naked torso and sighed. “God, how did I get so lucky?”

A rush of affection spilt me into two and the unspoken question—How did I?—rang in my head.

He pressed a kiss against the saw-toothed scar above my bellybutton and spoke. “These scars are simply a part of you, but they do not define you.”

As the night proceeded, Andrew showed me exactly what he meant with every caress on my heated skin, each thrust between my legs, and every lick of his tongue until my scars no longer held the meaning they once did.

I knew I’d spend the next day walking around bowlegged due to the events of that afternoon, but I couldn’t complain. Andrew had ended my two-year dry spell with multiple orgasms. He’d put my needs before his and didn’t give it a second thought. Not to mention, controlling in a sexy way that had me bending over backwards to please him (pun intended). A goofy grin had been plastered on my face since we’d left the abandoned house and wouldn’t disappear. It only grew bigger as flashes of our tryst popped into my head. I couldn’t believe we had sex in an abounded house. Anybody could have found us, yet the forbidden factor raked up the hotness scale. Spank my fanny and call me Mary, an exhibitionist resided in my yet. Never thought I would say that. Although my inner slut raged hard in high school, my sex life wasn’t very dirty. I didn’t have sex in closets, in the backseat of cars, or anywhere besides where a bed was present. Andrew’s intoxicating presence made me forget the outside world and solely on the lust raging through my veins.

Dumping my suitcase on his bed, I searched for a dressy casual outfit to wear tonight. Since I had no idea what that term meant, my options were overwhelming. A black wrap cardigan got discarded into the yes pile along with black slacks. So far the pile looked like a whole lot of black and nothing else. However if my memory served me correctly, Andrew’s friends at the strip club had a fondness for the midnight shade. My phone beeped on my nightstand and I pulled up a text message from Monica.

Kick ass tonight and be the sexy bitch I know you are.

I smiled at the screen and wished Monica could have come to the art show. I needed the self-confidence boost of my best friend by my side. Glancing at my lackluster options, my fingers slid open Andrew’s closet doors. A dress stood out amongst the black and gray suites. It shimmered in the light, changing from gray to a light blue, reminding me of a waterfall. A simple note with my name was tacked to the bodice. A squeal bounced off the walls when I realized Andrew had bought the dress for me.

Changing out of my street clothes, I took the dress off the hanger and slipped it over my head. The gown skimmed my curves, landing above my knees. I swished back and forth, overcome with gratitude. Andrew should be renamed Prince Charming. The beauty of the dress blinded me to the shoes on the closet floor. They were white, strappy, and had a six-inch heel. Tonight Andrew and I would be ideal kissing height. Sliding my feet into the stilettos, I did a practice run around his bedroom. At first my legs wobbled but they eventually got the hang of it.

“You are a sight for sore eyes.”

Spinning around, Andrew leaned against the doorframe. He wore an old band t-shirt with a black slim cut jacket. Day old stubble dotted his cheeks. His brown eyes were almost black against his tan complexion and framed by a pair of rim horned glasses. It was a sin how gorgeous Andrew looked.

“You don’t look too bad yourself. How does the man of the hour feel?”

“I feel like I want to throw up, run away, and jump your bones in the same breath.”

Teetering to where he stood, my palm rested against his cheek. “Your artwork is amazing. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Except for the fact I trashed five of my paintings and went on a creative bender that produced artwork way out of my comfort zone.”

“It will be fine. You will be fine.”

He rested his forehead against mine as his fingers slid up my bare thigh. I shivered in pleasure. “How bout I cancel and we stay in bed all night instead?” Andrew’s gaze darkened when he realized I wasn’t wearing panties. His thumb brushed my throbbing sex. “Yes I definitely vote to stay in.”

I swallowed the gasp that wanted to tear free. “We can’t do that.” Arching into his touch, my body said otherwise.

“You sure?”

He teased the opening of my folds. My hands clutched his shirt to steady my legs and I squeezed my eyes shut. Lust racked through me.

“You’re playing dirty,” I said roughly. “It’s not fair.”

“So wet,” he murmured approvingly.

His finger slid inside me, invoking a moan from my lips. I titled my head backwards, drowning in a sea of sensations. His mouth found the sensitive spot near my collarbone and lightly sucked. Goosebumps erupted on my skin. The distant sound of the door slamming shut entered through my haze.

“Andrew? Are you ready?” Matthew yelled out. “Andrew?”

Andrew cursed underneath his breath as the moment shattered.

We broke apart, unfulfilled and clothes rumpled.

“I should have never given that fucker a key,” he murmured.

I laughed at the dismay on his face. “To be continued?”

“That’s not even a question.”

He gripped my waist and yanked me into a toe-curling kiss. My arms instinctively wound around his neck. I could get lost in his touch for years.

Andrew placed my feet back onto the ground and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “We are awesome at that.”

“I have to agree. That thing you do with your tongue is mind blowing.”

“Mind blowing? Huh?”

Great, I had inflated his already overblown ego. “Never mind. I take it back; it’s awful, you should never do it again.”

Andrew laughed. “Is that so?” He tickled my sides until tears streamed down my face.

Catching my breath, I swatted away his hands and squealed. “Uncle! Uncle!”

His relentless attack ceased. We looked at each other with silly grins painted on our faces. I don’t remember having this much fun in a long time. Andrew kept me young, which seemed like a weird thing to say when you were only twenty-three years old. However by the time I’d turned five, the weight of my survival had hung like a heavy winter coat around my shoulders. My mom’s sugar daddies benefited my mother and while provided a place to live, did little else for me. I don’t remember having the chance to be a kid.