092Vanessa entered the living room and saw Andrea. She looked at him, seeing the raw pain in his eyes. He wasn’t just drunk, he was defenseless. For a moment, a flicker of genuine pity touched her, but it was quickly overshadowed by a darker, more selfish impulse. She had wanted him for so long, and tonight, the barriers he usually kept so high were crumbled onthe floor along with his pride."I'm staying strong for you, Andrea," she whispered, leaning closer until herbreath fanned across his lips. "I'm the only one who's here."Andrea’s gaze was glazed, drifting over her face. In his intoxicated state, the lines of reality were blurring. He reached out, his hand trembling as he cuppedher cheek. His thumb brushed over her lower lip."Don't go," he rasped, his voice a broken plea.Before she could answer, he leaned forward. It was a clumsy, desperate movement.His lips met hers—tasting of expensive scotch and despair. It wasn't a gentle kiss, it was the act of a drowning man rea
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