by Jolie Day
“Fine.” I sighed. “It wasn’t anybody you know. My sophomore year of high school. I went to a party at a sorority house where there were a lot of college girls. I played beer pong with this Irish chick named Cara, and we ended up making out. She dragged me off to her room, and one thing led to another.”
“And so, Oliver the ladies’ man was born!” She lifted her glass.
“Yeah, I guess so.” I shook my head.
With nostalgic music from our high school years coming from the speakers, I raised my eyebrow at her. “Here’s one,” I said. “What’s your deepest secret?”
“Ooooohhhh.” She gave me a sarcastic grin. “Is that all? Just my deepest secret? Would you like my bank account number while we’re at it?”
“Now that you mention it, yeah, write it down,” I joked.
“I assure you the balance wouldn’t be what you’re used to seeing in your own account.”
“Don’t try to change the subject.”
She stared across the room with a sigh. The suspense was killing me while she took her time digging up her confession. I didn’t know what could be buried deep inside of her, since tonight had proven I shouldn’t be so quick to assume I knew my best friend as well as I thought I did. But I was dying of curiosity.
“All right.” She finally shrugged. “If you really want to know. I’ve…always wondered…”
“Yes?” I motioned for her to continue.
“I’ve always wondered what it would be like between us,” she blurted, her hand gesturing from me and then to her.
My brain glitched from the words. “Between us? What do you mean?”
Her eyes widened. “You know what I mean. That.”
“That?” It clicked—with me. “Oh.”
“Ooooooohhhh,” she mocked back at me. “You asked. So don’t shoot the messenger.” She giggled. “That’s not all.”
“It’s not?”
“The real secret is, I’ve always wanted you to be my first. Crazy, right?”
I was speechless for the first time that evening.
She wants me to pop her cherry? Not what I expected. Not even close. I mean, I knew she was tipsy. I knew we’d had a great time tonight. Hell, she’d kissed me. I’d almost kissed her at the club. Still, I expected her to tell me that she accidentally killed a bug or some shit, grabbed an apple from a neighbor’s tree, or forgot to do her homework once, but that? I mean, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to. Hell, I was fucking thrilled! Ecstatic. Horny. (Okay, I’m always horny—don’t judge).
The devil on my shoulder told me to take her to my bedroom and fulfil her deepest secret—the dirty son of a bitch. The angel on my shoulder urged me to convince her to wait for Mr. Right—that Goody Two-shoes motherfucker. I’d rather listen to the damn devil… But this was Laney…
“Don’t you think you should wait for Mr. Right?” I asked.
“Nooo, I’ve waited long enough! Longer than you think.” She smiled the most amazing smile at me. “Don’t you think?” Not waiting for my answer, she nodded. “You have experience, I trust you, and I lo—”
She’d stopped herself and her expression grew more serious. “I’d say to heck with waiting. Waiting is overrated. So…what about you? Have you ever…wondered about it over the years?”
After dropping that popping-the-cherry bomb on me, it was all I could think of right then, and for a second, I hadn’t even registered her words. But the question made the swig of Jäger go down funny. I hated that shit. Fuck it. I poured another and downed it in one go.
Laney stared at me expectantly the entire time.
“No, I haven’t,” I shot back as quickly as I could. “I can’t say I’ve ever wondered that.”
As I said the words, I knew I was lying, but not really. Earlier tonight, I’d been staring at her body in all the fucking wrong ways. It was true, I’d let my brain wander, many times, in fact. Even though it felt wrong to deny it, it didn’t feel right to mention any of it, either. I knew she wasn’t talking about just a couple of kinky thoughts. She was talking about all the years during our friendship.
What the fuck was wrong with me? She’s offering herself to me.
She wants me to be her first, I repeated in my thoughts, still not believing it. Hadn’t I thought of this before we’d gone out tonight? Shit.
Laney nodded slowly, letting my answer sink in.
I watched her demeanor change.
And it changed completely.
Her smile quickly faded, and her cheeks blushed. Suddenly, she wouldn’t look me in the eye.
Instead, she fidgeted with her hands in her lap and stared at the couch cushion beside her folded legs.
“Of course you haven’t,” she mumbled under her breath, almost too quiet for me to hear. “This has been a lot of fun!” She stood up quickly. “Thanks for celebrating with me tonight. Too bad it’s already so late. Oh, well. I should…definitely get to bed.”
“Wait, Laney. No, don’t run off to bed. I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’ve just never—” My words caught in my throat as I struggled to remember exactly why I had never let myself go there. Her confession had drowned out my reasoning. “We’ve just been best friends for so long.”
“Right, of course.” She nodded. “No, I totally get it. It’s fine. But you know…I’m a little tipsy—so now, ‘Laney secret-telling time’ is over. At least for tonight.” She tried to force a smile. “Good night.”
“No. Don’t go.”
16
Laney
Oh, shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
All at once, I felt painfully sober as I saw Oliver there with his eyes wide and his mouth gaping.
I didn’t know what had gotten into me.
The high from my acceptance letter followed by our accidental kiss, however brief it might have been, made me forget about everything for a while. Everything. I’d had a plan. A good one… I thought maybe I could truly be the kind of woman that looked irresistibly sexy and danced with the most attractive guy in the city at the club without a care in the world.
Mostly, I thought I could be the kind of woman Oliver would want as more than just a friend.
I was such an idiot. A complete fool. Ugh.
I’d forgotten about all the things that stood between us and kept me from being the type of woman he would ever go for. For a few short hours, I wasn’t just the dorky girl that was completely out of his league. I was a smart, beautiful, sexy woman who could do anything—maybe even seduce her lifelong crush. Even if his body had been practically perfected and sculpted by the gods themselves.
But seeing the look on his face at the mere mention of him viewing me in a sexual way—it was enough to bring it all crashing down, hard and fast, leaving me to feel like the world’s biggest idiot. I got up, mumbled something to the effect of “good night” and headed (okay, basically ran) for my room, ready to hide under the covers, and hoped that by tomorrow morning the humiliation of it all would be buried deep somewhere in another “Idiot me shouldn’t have done this” memory. And him hopefully forgetting that the evening even happened.
“Laney, wait.” He pulled at my arm to stop me in the hall. “No. Don’t go.”
I spun around, ignoring the thrill that still pulsed through me any time I felt his touch. I refused to let it get to me anymore. All this time, and it had never once led to anything but me feeling exactly like this—heartbroken and so, so stupid.
“Oliver.” I sighed, staring up to face him with brutal honesty and acceptance. “Look, I get it. It’s okay. I know why you’ve never…” I shook my head, unable to say it out loud again. “I know why. And it’s fine.”
“Okay, because we’re friends, and…?” He tried to answer slowly.
“I know I’m not your type.” There. I said it. “I see the girls you’ve been chasing since high school, and they’re all the same. They’re all skinny. You can’t help what you’re attracted to.” I shrugged. “So, don’t wor
ry about it. It’s late. I’ll—”
“What? Laney, that’s not it.” He cut me off, shaking his head. “Don’t be crazy.”
My embarrassment turned to anger coursing through my veins. I wasn’t about to stand there and let him try to convince me that I was crazy, or that I needed to wait for Mr. Right (the irony!), and that it was anything else just so he could feel like the “good guy.” I yanked my arm from his grip and started back for my bedroom door. It was just a few feet from my reach, and I couldn’t get to it fast enough.
“I said it’s fine,” I repeated again, more sternly as I desperately tried to flee.
“Dammit, Laney, listen to me. It’s not.” His hand wrapped around my arm again, quickly followed by his other until he had me by my shoulders, pushing my back against the wall. I wanted to ask what the hell he was doing, but before the words could reach my mouth, his lips did instead.
Oh, my—I knew exactly what he was doing.
Oliver’s soft, full mouth pressed against mine, immediately followed by his tongue urging its way between my lips. Oh, my goodness. I parted them, letting him explore deeper. He slipped his hand in my hair, drawing me even closer, and the kiss grew more demanding. I’d never in my life been kissed like this before, and excitement rushed through me. Oliver. Tingles of desire instantly raced to my sex, soaking my panties. I ached to have him nearer, closer. Pulling on his suit jacket, I jerked him forward, wrapping my leg around his, and God, I could feel his arousal pressing against my stomach. I was lost in him. I couldn’t get enough.
Hurry, Lisa… I’m climbing him like a tree. Get out of my thoughts, woman. Elaine, focus!
“You have no idea how much I want you,” Oliver groaned against my lips.
I squeezed his leg tighter, feeling his dick thump against me. Holy. Shit. Is this a dream. Did he really just say what I’ve dreamed about all these years? Is this really happening? OMG, this felt so wonderful I could hardly think. “Is this a dream? Are you sure? I thought you—”
“I’m sure. Now shut up and kiss me.”
“Yes, okay.”
I tilted my head and melted into him again, letting my hands travel up the defined muscles of his arms and then down his back. Oliver dropped his hand between us and inched up my dress, trailing his fingers along my inner thigh, dangerously close to my panties. Intense heat flooded through me, and I knew he could feel how wet I was. The thought of it turned me on even more. I wanted him. I needed to feel him, too. I…
Before I could finish that thought, Oliver slipped a finger inside my panties, and I gasped, dropping my leg.
“You’re so wet for me.” He trailed kisses along my jaw and down my neck, sliding one finger over my sensitive center before removing his hand. “I want to make you come.”
I could hardly breathe, and instantly missed the heat of his touch. “I…yes. I…” He’d rendered me speechless. “Please.” But fair was fair. I reached down and let my hand run the length of his very impressive popsicle (Did I really just think that? OMG. Schlong? Screwdriver? Oh, who cares? So funny!). I stroked him through his pants, and his donkey kong twitched against my palm.
My eyes snapped open in surprise, and they were met by his hungry gaze burning right back into me. His chest rose and fell with deep labored breaths as he growled, “Laney…fuck, we need to take this to the bedroom.”
The lust in his eyes was clear as day, and I knew it wasn’t just from being drunk. I think we’d both shocked ourselves out of intoxication minutes ago.
“Mmm-hmm,” was all I could manage to say.
I wanted more of his lips, his fingers—all of him.
Our mouths crashed together again with much more intensity, his body pressing into mine, pushing me harder against the wall. We ground against each other, rocking, pushing, pulling—anything we could do to feel more.
The straps of my sexy little red dress had been falling down my shoulders all evening, and Oliver had been the one to slide them back into place. But not this time. He tugged them down further, reaching around to the clasp at my lower back. His tongue darted deeper into my mouth as he undid the clasp and zipper, undoing more of me at the same time. I felt the silk brush against my skin as it slowly cascaded down to the floor, pooling at my feet.
I was completely exposed in nothing but my black lace bra and panties—never actually expecting anybody to see them but me. He drew back for a moment, eyeing me closely. My chest heaved as he drank me in.
“Oh, Laney,” he murmured. “You’re beautiful.”
The look on his face…the strain in his voice. If there had been any doubt in my mind about how badly he wanted me, it was long gone now.
We stumbled to my door—our lips locked with even more urgency than before as he pushed us toward my bed. The moment we were inside, I impatiently stripped off his jacket, tossing it somewhere in the room. I ran my fingers down his gray button-up shirt and said, “fuck it,” pulling it apart from the top and hearing the buttons clatter to the hardwood. Oliver could buy another one.
“Impatient, are we?” He chuckled, flung what was left of his shirt to the floor beside us, and cupped his hands around my face, drawing me in again.
I was so turned on, I barely noticed as he hoisted me onto the bed. With his arm draped around the small of my back, he lifted my hips up toward him, settling between my legs, and I wrapped them around his waist. I bucked with the need to feel his hardness pressing against me again—only this time, it swelled against my dripping-wet sex.
Oliver’s mouth fell from my lips to my chin, as he planted tender kisses down my neck. He skillfully unclasped my bra just as easily as he’d done with my dress, setting my breasts free. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his large hands around them, drawing them to his lips so he could suck, bite, and tease my tender, hard nipples. I hissed and whimpered with each flick of his tongue.
Caressing my left breast, he trailed feather-light kisses along the curve of my stomach, nipping at my hips as he moved down further and further. By the time the stubble of his chin brushed against my inner thigh, I found myself remembering this exact scenario in my mind at the golf course when I’d kissed him on the cheek. Only, this was really happening. Oh, my God.
My core tightened and pulsed, aching for his touch, needing release. He pressed the palm of his hand against my sex and slid my panties to the side. Leaning down, he stared up at me with a wicked grin. “Just a taste before I begin.”
I was going to die. He was seriously going to kill me. My hips jerked when he slipped his tongue between my legs, lightly grazing my sensitive bundle of nerves. “Oliver! Stop teasing me.”
“So impatient.” He glanced up with a smirk, his brown eyes boring into me. “I want to savor your gorgeous body, make you come…make your first time an experience you’ll never forget.”
Damn. I loved naughty Oliver. And, oh, I’d never forget this…ever. What could I say to that? He’d certainly slowed things down, though. He toyed with the elastic waist of my panties, coaxing them down around my thighs, staring into my eyes as he tossed them to the side.
It was so sensual, sexy, and—holy mother of… I sucked in a breath.
Without warning, he spread my legs wider, descending on my sex with fervor. I threw my head back and held back a cry as his tongue played with me. I knew I wouldn’t last long if he kept this up. And then I felt him gently slide a finger inside me, and I nearly came undone. Easing it in and out slowly, he pressed his thumb to my sensitive nub.
Panting, I grasped the sheets. “Oliver. I’m going to…” I shuddered and saw stars dancing across my vision.
My legs started to shake as he pushed further into me and curled his finger as he pulled out, only to do it again. I dug my hands in his hair, holding him in place. I’d never felt anything so—
“Oh, my,” I gasped in shock. “Holy. Amazing. Woah!” What the hell was I even saying? Did it freaking matter?
I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. I thought it was just pure adrenali
ne and that the feeling might fade, but the more I relaxed, the harder it rippled through me. I kept crying out louder, growing helpless to the tidal wave of sensations washing over me again and again. It tingled and spread from his mouth and ripped through my entire body until I seized up, bucking against his mouth and gasping for air.
As the mind-blowing sensations seemed to recede (to a degree), my sex was still alive with the most amazing orgasm I’d ever had. I slowly sank back against the bed, only faintly noticing the trickle of Oliver’s kisses working their way up my body again. When his gaze met mine, it was filled with a primal need of desire and much more.
Um, yes, please. I’ll have more of that. Thanks! Dear God, the things that man could do with his mouth, his hands…
I pulled his lips to mine, tasting my sweetness on them. I’d never understood those sorts of things before, but in that moment, I was hit with the realization of just how satisfying (and erotic) it could be to taste yourself lingering on the mouth of the person making love to you. It made me feel powerful and connected to him. For that stretch of time in my bedroom, I was his.
“Did you like that?” he murmured against the shell of my ear, then nibbled the lobe.
“You have no idea.” I smiled breathlessly.
Maybe I hadn’t been wrong at the beginning of the night. Maybe I really could shed the old Laney, and just be a sensual woman in his arms. A woman who wasn’t in any way, shape, or form as experienced as he was, but I wasn’t naïve, either. And I wanted to prove that to him. It wasn’t just about showing him what I could do, though. As hot and spontaneous as the moment might be, he was still my Oliver, my crazy-hot dream come true. My heart still swelled with tenderness and love for him, and I wanted to make him feel good.
I ran my hand down the ridges and curves of his perfect chest, right down to the trail of hair below his belly button. I followed it between his legs, gripping his erection as it strained against his zipper. It was throbbing and even bigger than before—enough so that I felt a hard lump go down my throat as I prepared myself to take it inside my mouth. Um, is that gonna fit? I stared at it long and hard—pun definitely intended. I sure hope so. Damn. Poor melted Oliver was nothing compared to the real thing. I gulped. I’ve so got this.
