Page 38 of Seal the Deal
“Drop it, Nicki.”
“Nu uh, I was reading,” Nicholas says, holding the Kindle against his chest.
Andrew’s face pales. “Reading what?”
“Well, this charming fellow named Bryce was just about to give his bodyguard the dicking down of a lifetime with?—”
A hand covers Nicholas’s mouth as Andrew quite literally jumps on top of Nicki. He’s not heavy, or very strong, but he catches Nicholas off guard enough that he loses his grip on the Kindle, which Andrew quite literally chucks across the room.
“The fuck?” Nicholas mumbles against Andrew’s palm, still covering his mouth.
“You saw nothing. You read nothing. Got it?”
Nicholas remains quiet, at least until Andrew removes his hand.
“Didn’t peg you for a porn man.”
“It’s not porn,” Andrew hisses. “It’s literature.”
“If they’d had literature like that when I was in school, I might’ve been a better student.”
“I hate you,” Andrew groans. There’s the faintest flush of red on his cheeks.
“No, you don’t.” Nicholas takes advantage of having Andrew in his lap to grapple with his hips, ready to offer his own bit of surprise when he flips them over so Andrew is beneath him on the couch. “Do you, princess?”
Andrew makes a small sound of surprise, staring at Nicholas like he’s never seen him before. “You’re strong.”
“I am.”
“And a brute,” Andrew huffs, pushing against Nicholas’s chest. “Let me go.”
“You sure you don’t wanna stay right here beneath me?”
“Unless you plan to spoon feed me ice cream, I’m quite sure.”
The answer takes Nicholas by surprise. He’d expected a flat out refusal.
Interesting.
“Is that what you want? You want someone to spoon feed you ice cream? You wanna be treated like the princess you are?”
Andrew huffs, but he doesn’t deny it. What he does do is shove Nicholas onto the floor, the sting of the hardwood against his ass a small price to pay for getting such a visceral reaction from his normally composed boyfriend.
Fakeboyfriend, he reminds himself before he gets carried away. Fake or real, Andrew’s reaction is delightful, and Nicholas smirks at him from the floor, very much hoping to see him so ruffled in the future.
“You wanna tell me more about that book of yours?”
“No.” Andrew glares, which is strangely hot. “Behave.”
“Fine,” Nicholas sighs, if only because he doesn’t want Andrew to make him leave yet. He hasn’t had his ice cream, and he still wants to ask him some questions.
“Just sit down and don’t move.”
“Am I allowed to get on the couch? How about breathing? Or is the expansion of my lungs too much movement?”
Andrew rolls his eyes. “You can breathe, smartass.”
“Aw, you think I’m smart, princess?”
