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“Yes!”
I gasped and panted in bed. “Yes, yes, yes,” I whispered as my orgasm struck, coiling my body with tingling convulsions. I arched my back and sighed back into the comfortable mattress.
It had been a while since I’d been able to do that. I was never alone at my apartment in Queens, and I couldn’t even remember the last time a guy had made me come. Most guys I took home from the bar were too sloppy-drunk to focus on making me come, even when I wanted to. Doing it now was like relieving all the tension that had accumulated in my shoulders and back over the past two months.
“This place has paid for itself already,” I whispered into my pillow. I fell quickly asleep after that.
I slept in, which meant waking up at 6:00 instead of 5:00. That extra hour of sleep made all the difference in the world. So did the shower down the hall, which had excellent water pressure and was instantly hot. Much better than waiting 90 seconds for hot water to flow through the pipes in my old apartment.
Ryan’s door was closed, which means he and Andy had gotten home eventually. As I got dressed, I thought about how much I’d enjoyed having some time with just Braden and Dorian last night. It was tough to get to know people when you were in a large group, but two or three was more manageable.
After getting dressed, I went downstairs to the kitchen. There wasn’t a coffee maker out on the counter, and after fishing through the cabinets for a few minutes I began to fear that I was living with four guys who didn’t drink morning coffee.
“Snooping on your first day?”
I whirled from the cabinet to see Andy standing in the living room—no, the front parlor. He had a curious look on his face, like he was trying to decide if he meant the comment as a joke or was serious.
“No!” I quickly said, holding up the red cannister of coffee beans. “I was looking for the coffee machine. I’ve checked every cabinet twice and can’t find anything. But you have beans, so…”
Andy gave me a small smile and slipped past me in the kitchen. He paused next to the stove, which was built into the wall. He pressed a button and a door folded out, revealing a little coffee spigot and tray.
“Are you for real right now?” I said. “It’s built into the wall?”
“It’s easy to operate,” he explained, reaching up into a cabinet to grab me a mug. “Place your mug here, then press the button. It’ll take a few seconds to heat the water, and then it will grind and brew the coffee. There are a lot more settings, but that’s all you really need to know unless you want to make something fancier, like a cappuccino or espresso.”
“You have a machine that magically conjures coffee from the air.”
“Every few days we have to refill the bean container, and empty the spent grounds. It’s a huge pain in the butt.” He smiled again to signal that it was a joke. It was tough to tell with his deadpan delivery.
Right on cue, the water finished heating and the wall made a sound like an electric pencil sharpener. A gargling sound followed, and then coffee began dripping into my mug. Within seconds it was a steady stream.
“This is magic to me,” I said. “I’m used to boiling water on the stove and using a French press.”
“This machine will turn you into a coffee snob,” Andy said. “I can’t even drink Starbucks anymore. Ah, here we go.” He took the coffee mug and handed it to me.
“Thanks,” I said, holding the mug to my lips. There was a thin layer of brown foam on top, and the steam warmed my face. “Okay, I’m officially living here forever.”
“You and me both.” He grabbed another mug and stuck it under the machine to start another cup.
“Long night last night?” I asked while testing the coffee. Still too hot to drink.
Andy sighed and leaned his tall frame against the counter. When he crossed his arms over his chest, they were so long that the elbows stuck out. “Ryan and I went over every piece of equipment in the overhead trusses, checking for loose screws or other… abnormalities.”
I nodded. From his tone, they hadn’t found any, and he didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it.
“Sorry you’re bunking with Dorian,” I said instead. “I told them I didn’t need my own room, but they were very insistent.”
Andy nodded. “As they should have been. You deserve your own bedroom. I don’t mind Dorian. Better than Ryan. Did you hear him snoring last night?”
“I did not.”
“Then you must be a deep sleeper, because it sounds like a tornado approaching.”
I laughed. “As someone from Iowa, I knew exactly what that sounds like. Guess I’ll have to insist on sleeping alone if he and I ever, well, you know.”
Andy smiled, but it was forced. I winced. Maybe they weren’t in the mood to joke about our arrangement just yet. Or maybe Andy was the jealous type.
“Hey,” he said after a moment. He took off his glasses and began cleaning them with the corner of his button-down shirt. “You don’t have to… That is to say, if you aren’t comfortable with any aspect of…”
