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Chapter 12.3

  Summer tried to come up with something clever, something flirty, but all she managed was a soft chuckle and the quietest, "Promise?"

  Andy's breath hitched, the word lighting him up from the inside out. He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second — just enough to let himself feel it.

  Then the quietest, neediest sound escaped his throat, like something he didn't mean to let her hear.

  Summer blinked, eyebrows lifting slightly.

  Andy hovered above her, visibly losing it — his face flushed, his chest rising shallow and quick. Like one simple word had knocked all the polished self-control out of him. "Don't," he managed, voice rough and thick, "don't say things like that."

  Her head tilted. "Why not?"

  His tongue darted out to wet his lips while his hands tightened on the bedsheets on either side of her. "Because, Summer," he whispered, leaning in until his mouth nearly brushed hers, "I don't need any help falling apart at your feet." Then, finally, he kissed her, slow and reverent, his hands sliding down to frame her waist, pressing her into the mattress like he needed her closer than physically possible.

  Summer arched beneath him, sighing into his mouth, and Andy swore under his breath.

  "I was going to be good," he murmured between kisses, his lips brushing the corner of her jaw, the pulse at her throat.

  Summer hummed, tilting her chin up to give him better access. "No, you weren't."

  Andy chuckled against her skin, but there was no denying the shiver that ran through him when she reached for him, pulling him fully into her arms.

  "No," he admitted, voice dark with something heady and helpless. "I really, really wasn't."

  Summer tugged at the edge of Andy's gauzy black shirt, her fingers brushing just beneath the hem. "This thing," she murmured, half-teasing, "is doing nothing to protect your virtue."

  Andy huffed a breathless laugh, but didn't stop her when she pushed it up higher, palms sliding under the soft fabric to explore the sharp lines of his stomach and the lean curve of his ribs. His breath caught, the muscles under her touch tightening, and his hands stilled where they'd been braced against the mattress.

  "You say that like I had any virtue left to protect," he whispered, eyes burning into hers.

  She laughed softly, and he took the chance to sit back just enough for her to pull the shirt off over his head without bothering to undo any of the buttons. The lighting from the window behind her cast a faint silver glow across his skin, and she blinked, momentarily overwhelmed by how beautiful he was like this — unguarded, breathless, with his hair slightly mussed and his eyes locked onto her like she was a miracle.

  "You always dress like you belong in a painting," she murmured, fingers tracing a line of ink down his ribs. "But I think I like you even better like this."

  Andy, watching her expression shift, reached for her again. "Still want to stay the weekend?" he asked, quieter now.

  Summer nodded, reaching up to cup his cheek. "More than ever."

  He held his breath as she leaned in, kissed him once, softly, then again with more intent. Her lips parted against his, and her hand slid into his hair. When she pulled back just enough to whisper, "Lie back," he obeyed without hesitation, spine sinking into the mattress, eyes wide and reverent as she shifted above him.

  "You're letting me?" she whispered.

  "No," Andy said. "I'm yours. You don't need permission."

  Her smile tilted, and that flicker of mischief returned. Summer shifted to his lap, her thighs on either side of him, pushing him gently but insistently back against the mattress. His arms stretched up above his head without thinking, surrendering everything. The shift in control made his whole body hum, his breath coming shallow.

  Summer leaned down to kiss the hollow of his throat, her hair falling like a curtain between them and the rest of the world. She traced the curve of his ribs with curious hands, kissed the soft underside of his jaw, then the edge of his lips, then lower still. And Andy — Andy arched toward her touch, gasping when she explored, feeling her abandon hesitation, apology, fear.

  "I want to," she whispered against his skin, her voice trembling slightly but gaining strength with every word, "I want you."

  Andy tipped his head back with a breathless laugh that turned into a moan, undone by the sincerity in her voice and the heat in her touch. "I've never been this lucky," he murmured, eyes fluttering shut. "Ruin me, sunshine."

  Her breath was warm against his ear when she said it — quiet, a little shaky, but unmistakably a command: "No. Please me."

  The effect was immediate.

  Andy's blue eyes darkened, flooded with heat and something deeper — devotion, awe, anticipation. He inhaled sharply, chest rising beneath her, and then he moved without a word, reverent and eager.

  His hands curved over her hips as he kissed the inside of her wrist, then her palm. When he sat up, it was to draw her closer, letting her guide him. His mouth trailed up her neck, nuzzling behind her ear, reverent and unhurried as though she were something sacred.

  "You don't even have to ask," he murmured — but he loved that she had. That she knew what she could ask of him.

  Andy shifted to lay her back against the pillows with care, worship in every gesture, and then lowered himself like a man on a holy mission. His touch was fluid, patient — but not detached — and his mouth followed like poetry, tracing lines of fire and wonder. He poured himself into it, as if her pleasure were breath in his lungs, as if giving it was the only thing that tethered him to the earth.

  Her sighs turned to quiet moans. Her fingers found his shoulders, holding on.

  He lost himself in her. In every sound she made. In every curve of her body and every flicker of her pleasure. His world narrowed to one purpose: making her feel beautiful, wanted, adored.

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  And when she came apart in his arms, Andy felt it like sunlight in his soul.

  * * *

  Summer lay still for a long moment, one hand curved loosely in Andy's tousled hair, the other resting lightly against her own ribs as she caught her breath.

  Her heart was still pounding.

  He was curled against her now, nuzzling into her side, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist like he was anchoring himself there. His breath warmed her skin. She stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly, trying to process the flood of sensation and the dizzying sweetness of his devotion.

  "...Did I really just — " she started.

  Andy tilted his head up, smiling in that lazy, utterly wrecked way he had after giving everything. "Oh, you did."

  She tilted her head toward him. "I can't believe you just... "

  Andy gave her a slow, wicked grin. "Just what, sunshine?"

  She blushed, but the spark in her eyes didn't dim. "You obeyed me. So fast. So easily."

  He lifted one shoulder, propping himself up on an elbow to loom slightly over her. "Of course I did. You asked me to please you." He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead, then kissed the spot. "That's not a request I'm capable of denying."

  She stared at him. "That was so easy."

  "I know," he said, eyes gleaming. "A little terrifying for me, too."

  She laughed, breathless again but for a different reason. "I didn't expect you to — fold."

  "I didn't either," he admitted, brushing her hair back from her cheek. "But you asked so beautifully."

  Her fingers found his again, curling between them. "This is dangerous," she said softly, half to herself.

  Andy leaned in, nose brushing hers. "Then we're in it together."

  Summer's smile was slow and incredulous. "I only asked you to please me."

  He chuckled, kissing the corner of her mouth. "And I did. Gloriously. Want to try again in, say, twenty minutes?" He lay sprawled beside her, one arm crooked under his head, utterly relaxed. Summer shifted slowly, curiously, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at him.

  Her fingers drifted lightly over his collarbone, then traced the line of his sternum. She seemed fascinated, almost reverent. Her touch wasn't overtly seductive — more inquisitive, like she was trying to memorize him.

  Andy arched an eyebrow, his lips curving. "Summer," he said, voice husky but amused, "what exactly are you doing?"

  She didn't meet his eyes. Her fingers skimmed lower, over his ribs, down the faint trail of hair on his stomach. "Just... looking," she said softly. "You said twenty minutes. I'm checking."

  He huffed a laugh, incredulous and fond. "Checking what?"

  "If you're... ready. Or going to be." Her voice dipped, sheepish but determined. "I thought I should reciprocate."

  Andy's smile faltered. Not because he didn't love her touch — he did — but because of the way she said it. Like an obligation. Like a debt. He caught her hand gently, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss her fingers. "Hey."

  Her gaze flicked to his, uncertain.

  "You don't have to," he said softly. "You know that, right?"

  "I want to," she said quickly. "I do. I just — " Her hand paused at his waist, fingers splaying lightly over his skin. "You did so much for me. I feel like I should — "

  Andy sat up partway, brushing her hair back with one hand. "You don't owe me anything for that. It wasn't a transaction."

  She bit her lip, brow furrowing.

  "You asked," he said softly. "And I wanted to give. That's all."

  Her expression flickered, a ripple of emotion she couldn't quite hide. "I know," she whispered. "It's just... hard to believe I can just receive."

  Andy leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "You can. I promise. And if you're exploring me because you want to — because it brings you joy — then I'm yours."

  He gave her a small, crooked smile. "But don't do it to balance some invisible scale. That's not how this works."

  She exhaled slowly, like she was trying to let go of something.

  Then her fingers smoothed up his chest again. "I still want to learn you," she said softly. "Because I want to."

  Andy's smile returned, this time quieter. "Then I'll lie still," he murmured, "and let you map your constellation."

  He laced his fingers behind his head and gave her a playful wink. "Just be warned — I'm very ticklish on the left side."

  Summer laughed and leaned down to kiss that exact spot.

  Andy's laughter echoed softly through the room. "Fair enough. But if I spontaneously combust from your attention, that's on you."

  "Deal." Her fingers resumed their explorations, slower now, more curious than driven. "Twenty minutes, huh?"

  Andy bit his lip. "Maybe fifteen now."

  Summer's fingers danced lower with mischievous intent, the weight of expectation gone from her shoulders, replaced by a glimmering confidence that made Andy's breath catch. She shifted slightly over him, her hair falling like a curtain to one side as her hands explored with a delicate, deliberate purpose — like he was a map she was memorizing by touch.

  Andy had half a mind to tease her, to say something witty about the danger of mixing science and magic, but the moment she leaned down and brushed her lips across the line of his jaw, the thought vaporized.

  He inhaled sharply.

  "Oh," he said, voice rough, "so that's the game we're playing."

  Summer hummed innocently against his neck. "Just testing theories."

  Her mouth moved slowly, exploring his throat, the hollow beneath his ear. Every gentle kiss, every experimental drag of her teeth, sent sparks down his spine. When her thumbs brushed over his nipples, Andy swore under his breath and arched up slightly, gasping.

  "I think I found something useful," she murmured, amused by the way he reacted.

  "Summer — " His voice cracked.

  "Yes?"

  "You're trying to kill me."

  "Spontaneous combustion," she reminded him sweetly, her tongue flicking lightly over the spot just below his collarbone. "I believe you signed the waiver."

  Andy made a strangled sound and grabbed at the sheets beneath him. She was relentless now, working her way down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses, heat and intent gathering with every inch.

  "Summer," he tried again, breath hitching. "If you keep this up — "

  "Mm?" She looked up, all mock innocence, her hair falling forward over one shoulder. Her lips were swollen from kissing him. Her fingers were still drifting lower.

  "I won't last another five minutes."

  She gave a small, delighted laugh. "Not fifteen, then?"

  Andy groaned and dropped his head back, helpless beneath her. "You're evil."

  "I'm thorough," she said, and resumed her explorations with a dangerous smile.

  Andy was certain of two things: he'd never been worshipped like this before, and if he did, in fact, explode into glitter and ash, he would do so a very, very happy man. He covered his face with one hand, utterly undone. "You are so dangerous."

  She kissed up his chest, finally settling with her weight atop him, smiling down like she hadn't just melted his spine. "I'm not dangerous. I'm your software nymph, remember?"

  Andy let out a long, shaky breath and then laughed, the sound soft and breathless as he wrapped his arms around her. Summer settled more fully against him, still wearing that smug, radiant smile that made him feel like he was both prey and prize.

  "You're so pleased with yourself," he murmured into her hair, kissing the crown of her head. "I've probably created a monster."

  "You have absolutely created a monster," she replied, voice muffled against his chest. "And you only have yourself to blame. I'm just applying what I've learned." She grinned into his skin. "You can't complain. You encouraged this."

  "Yeah, well," he murmured, his hand running slowly down her back, "you were supposed to stay sweet and bashful forever. You weren't supposed to turn the tables this fast."

  She laughed. "That's your fault too."

  He sighed, full of faux-tragic resignation, and turned his head to kiss her hair. "I've trained you too well."

  Summer's voice was soft. "You made me feel safe."

  Andy blinked, breath catching, and pulled her even closer, his hand pressing flat between her shoulder blades. "You are safe, sunshine. Always."

  She snuggled against him, letting her fingers trace idle shapes on his chest. "Then you're doomed. Because I don't plan on forgetting anything you teach me."

  "Oh, I am doomed," he said gravely. "But I've never been more willing to meet my fate." He looked down at her, brushing a lock of red hair from her cheek. "Monster or not, you're mine."

  She smiled. "You say that like you're not already wrapped around my finger."

  Andy let out a quiet, surrendering breath. "I absolutely am."

  "Good," she murmured, kissing the hollow of his throat. "Then we're even."

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