Love, Again, part three

Catch up on part one and part two!

“I feel like I’ve met you before, but I know that’s not possible.”

He simply watched her, waiting to see if she would figure out the truth about them. He’d hoped she would recognize him, but as he sat there waiting for her to discover who he was he almost hoped she wouldn’t remember. The longer he watched her the more uncertain she appeared about her declaration.

“Is it possible?”

“Anything is possible,” Keith answered, not revealing any more than she was asking.

“How have we met? You’ve never visited Ted. There’s no way we could have met.”

“Then I guess you have your answer,” he said, infuriating her.

“Why are you here?” she asked, changing tactics in an attempt to draw information out of him.

“You invited me.”

“You know what I mean. Why are you in town?”

“I came for you.”

Four simple words. Words that could mean anything. Words that turned her on more than she’d ever been in her life. She wanted him. Desperately. It’d been four long years alone, but no man had ever made her want the way Keith was sitting in her kitchen, eating her lasagna.

The heat in his eyes and the smooth sound of his voice was making her body tingle all over and she couldn’t think straight, let alone respond to what he said.

She collapsed in the chair across from him, waiting for him to explain. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry as he slowly ate the rest of the lasagna she’d served him. He looked comfortable in her house, something that left her belly feeling as unsettled as the rest of her.

When Keith finished his dinner he pushed the plate away gently and rubbed his stomach. “Thanks,” he muttered, meeting her gaze once more.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked innocently. The second his eyes drifted from hers to scan the rest of her she felt the flush of embarrassment and excitement blend to give her the hottest of hot flashes.

“How about that drink?”

She nodded, unable to say anything with his eyes tracking her. She pulled out two bottles of beer and handed him one, twisting of the top of hers as she sat. The cool liquid chilled her heated body, until she saw him still looking at her.

“Where are you staying?” Andrea asked, desperate to find a conversation that wouldn’t leave her feeling like she’d stepped into the sun.

“I’ll get a hotel.”

“You don’t have one yet?” He shook his head and took a long pull of his beer. “Just stay here. I’d like the company.”

“You don’t want my kind of company.”

“Why not? I’d like to get to know you better.”

“Why?”

Andrea shrugged. The answers bouncing around in her head weren’t things she could say to him, but somehow she felt he would understand, and reciprocate, her desires. What she finally managed was, “You’re Ted’s best friend.”

“Try again, Andrea.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘try again.’ Ted has nothing to do with why I’m here. And I think you know that.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

He shook his head as he drank his beer, draining the last of the bottle. He set it down on the table with a hard clunk and leaned toward her. “I know what your skin tastes like. I know the sounds you make when you come. I know what it feels like to have your body wrapped around mine. So you can argue, but I know more about you than you think.”

Andrea gasped at his words, at first not believing him, but seeing the unmistakeable truth in his eyes. She stared at him, wondering how in the world she didn’t remember him.

“How is that possible?” she asked, almost to herself.

“Spring break. Twelve years ago.”

All the blood drained from her face and Andrea wondered if she would pass out. She barely remembered the night, even the morning after. There was a guy, she knew that, and when she’d woken up next to him she was mortified that she’d slept with a complete stranger. The details of the night were fuzzy, but she always remembered throwing herself at him until he snapped and gave her what she demanded. Even through the fog of alcohol it was the best sexual experience of her life.

Instead of waking him up that morning, she took a mental picture of the sexy, naked, sleeping man with the tanned skin, tight ass, and broad back that she’d clutched in the throws of passion. His dark hair was a bit long at the time, but she couldn’t deny that it was the same hair she’d run her fingers through as his mouth settled between her legs and drove her crazy.

Staring at the same man, years later, in her kitchen and learning he was her husband’s best friend, was more than she could handle.

“I’m sorry. This was a mistake,” she said, running out of the room and away from the only man she’d ever fantasized about while she was with her husband.

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