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tongue rested against.
Christina should have stayed at another friend’s place, at a hotel, a hostel—but his place would naturally, logically, be the first choice. He lived alone, why shouldn’t she stay instead of wasting money on accommodation at a luxury hotel?
3 weeks. She’d only be around for 3 weeks. Except that 3 weeks felt more like 3 hundred years, right now, if he was supposed to squelch his insidious desires.
Andy helped Christina with her trolley bag, when they entered the elevator. Her touch was like an electric spark, when their fingers met on the handle of the bag when she passed it to him. Andy didn’t know if she’d lingered her hand on his for a second—or whether he had—or whether both of them hadn’t. He concurred that he was just dreaming.
Christina chattered to him for a bit, updating him on various friends, family members, and happenings back in Zurich, before turning her attention to one of the posters gracing the walls of the lift. Andy kept his eyes on the elevator buttons, pretending to be focused on something at work.
She followed him, as he inserted the house key into the door’s lock. They stepped onto the cool, marble-tiled floor of his unit. It’d be cool once the air-conditioning system was turned on, but Andy felt like he’d just entered the gates of Hell.
“ This is a really nice place, Andy,” Christina said, genuinely impressed with the furnishing and interior design of the apartment.
“ Thanks.”
He almost melted to bits—she was so easy to look at. He could spend the rest of the night just admiring her.
Andy strode past the black arm chair in the living room. It was well-structured for hot and heavy action, which he’d made use of before.
He showed Christina her room, which he’d spent a couple of days preparing, neatening and straightening things about, and getting a few amenities in. He went back to his room for a short while, to put his laptop down. He needed a cold shower, stat, to cleanse the horniness.
To his amazement, he found Christina was already fast asleep, face down, legs dangling over the edge of the bed. He was just about to show her around the flat.
He went forward, almost putting a hand down on her shoulder.
Oh, if only he could undress her…get her ready for bed…and he’d slide right in under the blanket with her, snuggle her snuggly breasts up close to his chest.
He got himself out of the room, and locked the door immediately, staring straight at the blank door for 5 seconds or so.
Good. He’d gotten her out of his mind, for 5 seconds straight. It was a start, at least.
He’d have a quick bath, before crashing. He had a long day at work the next day.
After having a cup of Swiss Coffee. He’d always liked brewing a cup of flavored coffee, and mixing in a packet of Swiss Miss Hot Chocolate mix. Additional milk and cream would blend perfectly with the mix, and compliment it amazingly.
He didn’t have to make a cup to know it’d taste, for the first time, as bland as chalk.
Chapter 2
Christina—why, of all names?
Andy kept playing the infamous Dirrty music video, over and over, as if the pulse-revving scenes of racy outfits and provocative dancing projected out from his memory onto the ceiling above him. He lay in bed, eyes unblinking, cold in his own zone, alone in the silence and overpowering darkness.
Christina Aguilera / X-tina. Wasn’t that the video that had earned her the moniker?
They shared the same initials too—Christina A.—Christina Acklin, writhing and gyrating about in a rot-iron cage, suspended from the ceiling. Okay, so he couldn’t remember what was in the video exactly —a boxing ring, lots of slippery wetness on the ground, lots of heat, lots of leather, lots of sweat, lots of clothes being stripped off…
Andy was sweating, even in the air-conditioned room.
His little sis would look equally hot in a milkmaid costume mini dress with lace-up details back zipper and a flirtatious little
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