Chapter 25

"Whoa, lass," Drew stopped her from draining that tumbler, his 'throwback' a well-controlled sip. "You dinnae want to do that, you'll have the worst hangover in the morning."

Scottish whiskey was meant to be sipped slowly, and this was stuff from home that had been a pain to get through customs. Brave, ballsy woman, he smiled down at her, his blue eyes crinkling as he took her in. If she was cold, she wasn't saying anything and he kept his rooms at what he considered a moderate temperature. Scotland was…volatile weather-wise, so summers here in the States had been interesting…and hot.

"Come sit down with me."

Luckily, she'd only gotten a quarter of it down before Andrew stopped her. "This is really good," Tressa murmured, following him over to the bed and sat down on it, feeling her dogs barking something fierce. Wearing heels for a long period of time was NOT a good idea. "Will you hold this for me for a minute?" He was confused as he took her tumbler until Tressa bent over to undo the straps of her heels, removing them with a soft groan. "Damn…that's better." She took her drink from him again and sipped it, once again not believing how smooth it slid down her throat.

His eyes were on those heels. She had dressed herself up to the nines for a solitary night in a hotel bar and he was very appreciative of her effort, even though Drew also knew it had nothing to do with him. "The things you women wear…" There was no chiding in it.

Heels on a woman were gorgeous and he thoroughly enjoyed the way it made a woman's legs stand out. He set his glass on the bedside table, gently but firmly bringing her feet up into his lap. That forced her to shift sideways and lean back on one hand, the other still holding her drink. His fingers began rubbing the arch of her foot, and he used his thumb to add pressure when he felt her flex at one particular spot.

"Mmm…" Tressa purred, not expecting him to do this for her, but definitely not turning it down either. She'd be a fool and his strong, warm hands felt amazing against her flesh. "I really should have worn my flats tonight…" She giggled at Drew's firm head shake, wholeheartedly disagreeing with her. "I didn't think they'd look good with the dress, though. Besides, then I wouldn't be getting this awesome foot massage from a handsome Scotsman." Was she flirting with him? Yes, she was, and he was the only thing on her mind at the moment – not Jon and not Joseph.

There was something unique and different about Andrew…something mysterious and fresh.

"I have to apologize." Thinking about that had made a bit of shame rise up in the back of his throat. "I… thought you were something you're not." He switched to her other foot. "I thought some terrible things, lass, and now I ken see you weren't lying out of spite, but to protect yeself." Getting past his ego was a hard thing, but his own thoughts had reality-checked him and reminded him that he wasn't really the egotistical, jacked-up man from television, but Andrew Galloway, and his mam would have his arse for being such a cunt. "I'm sorry for thinking the less of ye."

Setting her own drink aside next to his, Tressa moved her feet from his hands to sit on the bed on her knees, the dress riding up her thighs just a little. "There's no reason to apologize, Andrew." Reaching up, she stroked his bearded face with the back of her hand gently and once again slid the pad of her thumb across his lips. "I thought terrible things about you as well. I thought you were an asshole. You just…come off like that when you first approach someone and I know I'm not the only one in the company who thinks that. I was wrong, so I'm sorry for thinking less of you and not giving you a chance," She paused, moving closer to him and his scent surrounded her. "But I am now."

To be fair, and honest, Drew didn't overly care what most people thought of him unless it was the ones who held sway over his career. He had his own circle of friends and they knew what he was really like. The good and the bad. "Good." He whispered, drawing her legs over and bringing Tressa closer until she was sitting sideways on his lap.

He took his tumbler off the nightstand and pulled a small sip from it, eyes never leaving hers. Once he had set it back down, he brought both his hands up and cupped her face, studying her eyes intently. When she didn't tell him to back off, but simply tilted her head back, he bent down to kiss her. It was full of passion and hard yet gentle at the same time, not at all what she expected from this monster of a man. Andrew was well put together, built like a brick house, nothing like the scrawny man he once was back in 2009. Tressa did not pull away from him, feeling tingles and warmth spread through her at the first connection of their lips. She could taste the whiskey on his lips and it intoxicated her more than she already was, made her mind fuzzy and heady.

Tressa slid her fingers through his hair, removing the band to feel the softness, and returned the kiss with equal passion, moaning softly to let him know how incredible he made her feel. Andrew growled as soon as her mouth opened to him, both tasting each other for the first time and Tressa shifted to where she now straddled him, her dress bunched up around her hips, her hands caressing his shirt-covered chest and shoulders. Without realizing it, her hands began to unfasten the buttons on his shirt to start exposing that delicious, slightly hairy, chest of his.

He could feel goose bumps erupting over his skin when Tressa had his dress shirt unbuttoned, her palms skimming up his chest. His own massive hands were on her waist, slowly but surely bunching that dress up higher and he was tempted to tear it off her body but refrained. It would hurt her and it was a nice dress. An image of her wrapped in his plaid, laying out on some heather flickered through his mind and he mentally promised himself that, if tonight progressed past just one night, that would be a vision he'd like to see made reality. But, at the same time, he wasn't pushing for anything she wasn't willing to give. A massive palm moved up her back and then to the nape of her neck, tilting her head back so he could get to her throat, growling softly when he felt her tiny body tremble against his.

She really was tiny compared to him, even straddling him, Andrew still towered over her and it should have intimidated her. Not with the way he kissed her and caressed her, his lips gliding gently over her soft flesh. Wearing a long-sleeved dress was NOT a good idea because she was burning up. Andrew was lighting her on fire and it felt as if lava coursed through her veins, burning her from the inside out.

"A-Andrew…" She breathed out in a shaky stammer, pulling back enough to stare into his ocean blues and rested her forehead to his, battling internally with herself. "D-Does it…fuck…" Tressa JUST slept with Jon the previous night and there was a goddamn huge bruise on the spot where her shoulder met her neck to prove it. Would that turn Andrew off if he saw it? If he saw her marked by another man? "I-I'm burning…" It had to be that damn Scottish whiskey combined with being in this Scotsman's strong arms. "I-I have to tell you something…before this goes any further…and believe me, I WANT this to go further. I want you." Badly – she could still taste him and slid her tongue out to wet her lips like she'd done down at the bar. Tressa wanted him to know she wasn't backing out of this or being a cocktease; she wanted to be with him tonight, but…her conscience was getting the better of her. "I-I slept with Jon last night…and we're not together, but…there's marks on me and I didn't know if it'd bother you to see them…" Jon had NOT been gentle with her AT ALL last night during their angry bout and there were bruises on different areas of her body besides just that mark on her shoulder. "Andrew, I told you I'm damaged…and I meant it. Are you absolutely sure you want me?"

Well, that was gross was his initial thought, but as he stared down into her beautiful yet somehow embarrassed eyes, that initial feeling faded and he nodded, running the pad of his thumb over her soft bottom lip. "Aye, I do." He whispered though he was glad she had told him.

Now he was mentally prepared for what was beneath these clothes. She wasn't with Jon. But they had sex. He had to wonder what their relationship was, friends with benefits from the sound of it.

"I'm not going to be tromping on any toes, am I?" When she shook her head, that was good enough for him. "You're not damaged," He whispered, feathering kisses along her jaw. "You're beautiful."

It was SUPPOSED to be friends with benefits, but then Jon had to throw a wrench into everything and threw it all into chaos. Her head lulled back, eyes closing to relish the feeling of his lips against her skin again, her hands pushing that shirt off his shoulders and arms. As far as Tressa was concerned, it was her life and her choice who she wanted to be with. Joseph was her only true love, and she lost him and he was gone. Didn't mean she couldn't get her kicks with another man, but her heart was in that six-foot-deep grave and, if Jon thought she could just snatch it back in the blink of an eye, he was sorely mistaken. What if Andrew wanted more than just sex from her? She immediately pushed that thought out of her mind and pulled back again, this time capturing his lips in a fire-ridden kiss that sent sparks throughout her body. She was burning again.

"Andrew…"

"Mmm, I like hearing you moan that, mo' leannan," He added in Gaelic, chuckling huskily when she gave him a curious look. Gently, he turned with her, pinning her down onto the bed, and hovered over her, well aware of just how fragile she was beneath him. He could easily crush her with his body alone and he let his lower half rest between her parted thighs, mindful of his weight. "It means, pet," He began, bending down so she could undo his hair from its low-hanging tail. "My lover, in Gaelic." And if they progressed further, that's what she would be, his lover, even if for one night only.

Being called pet would be condescending to most women from a man, but when Andrew did it, Tressa enjoyed the term of endearment. Just like when Jon called her kitten and she called him Daddy. Would that change? Hell, everything had changed the moment she agreed to have this drink in Andrew's room. Andrew's accent had gotten thicker, more prominent, and his voice lower, which only intensified the sexiness the man already exuded.

"I love your accent…and you really do have an incredible body, Andrew…" That was an understatement. This man had gotten in shape and hardened himself in the Indies; he was absolutely delicious from head to toe. "I fear, if you don't get me out of this dress soon, I will pass out from heat stroke, however." She semi-teased, her cheeks flushed along with the rest of her body.

Bringing his mouth down on hers by grabbing hold of that thick, long black hair of his, her body vibrated against his practically. With the patience of a saint, and he was no patient saint, so this was excruciating for him, Drew began removing that dress from her. She hadn't been lying about the marks, Jon had left her in poor condition unless she liked being fucked like a ragdoll and some women did. Either way, he wasn't judging.

"You're gorgeous." Drew informed her once Tressa lay there in just her undergarments, leaning back on his calves to admire her.

Even with the signs of rough, definitely angry sex, she was beautiful. Pushing himself off the bed, he shed what was left of his own clothes, going slowly because she had propped herself up and was watching him, her eyes darkening as she took him in. That was probably the same look he'd had when he had undressed her.

Wow, he is hung, was the first thought that went through Tressa's mind, her cheeks turning crimson on top of being flushed.

Now her mouth really was dry at the full sight of him in all his naked glory, her tongue once again snaking out to run across her lower lip. Jon was not a small man by any means, very well endowed, but Andrew was on another level entirely. Moving on her knees, Tressa slid her hands up his chest, almost worshipping him, the hair not bothering her a bit because it was sexy on him. A lot of men weren't sexy with body hair, but Andrew definitely pulled it off and she began kissing his abs, his toned stomach, while wrapping her hand around his fully erected cock to stroke him. Then, she leaned forward to slide her tongue along the tip and got the first taste of him, her moan of satisfaction vibrating him. There was no way in HELL she'd fit all of him in her mouth, not even a quarter, probably, but Tressa was willing to give it the old college try.

"Mo'leannan, you don't have to-" Holy shit, those words died quickly when Tressa hummed around him, using her hand to make up where she couldn't fit him, most women couldn't.

Not that Drew went around bragging about his cock because he didn't, and there were even those women who took one look and flat-out refused to be with him. Having a dick this size was both a blessing and a curse. He threaded his fingers in her now loose hair, being gentle as she bobbed up and down on him. Christ, she was going to kill him and he was going to go with a smile on his face.

"Fuck, Tressa…" He couldn't stop himself from arching his hips.

"Mmm…"

Tressa pulled away to tip her head back, enjoying his fingers in her hair. It was haphazard around her face, somewhat curly from being in the bun on top of her head. She had natural waves, they weren't corkscrew curls or like Jon's hair used to be. She didn't have straight hair either, so it was kind of a pain to deal with, but Tressa managed.

"Andrew…how do you want to cum, honey?" Her voice dripped with it, kissing the tip of his throbbing cock for added effect, and smiled at the way his breathing labored. "Do you want me to try to swallow as much of you as I can…" There was no way she'd be able to take all of him and Tressa was woman enough to admit that aloud. "Or do you prefer to explode inside of me?" Another lick, another kiss, and she continued to stroke him. "The choice is yours."