by Ember Flint
As soon as she put the idea in my brain, I just couldn’t let go of it and I knew just one thing for certain: I wasn’t going to wait for tomorrow night.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her rosy, pouty lips and while a good chunk of my brain was telling me to slow down and get busy processing all this new information, wondering how was it possible that I had never seen, never knew myself when it came to her, the rest of it was just going in overdrive, all the lights going out, all the blood pumping south.
And then we kissed. Fuck, we really kissed and I went fucking insane, I swear I’ve never gone so hard so fast in my life.
I didn’t even know it could be possible and that it could be so damn painful.
It was enthralling: I never knew a kiss could feel that way.
And once my lips touched hers, it was like ripping off the lid from a boiling, airtight pot.
I cover my face with both hands. She was feeling the same way, I know she was, but she panicked and bolted out of the room as fast as she could.
Was I too forceful with her or was she just scared of what we were sharing?
I couldn’t blame her if she was scared, I’m feeling a little scared myself: I’ve never felt anything like this with a woman and then of course there’s the small detail that she’s my best friend and I’ve known her since I learned to walk.
I don’t even remember what I did exactly; if I close my eyes and try to replay the scene in my mind, I see only a flurry of emotions running high, our bodies pressed together, our lips practically sealed.
My cock throbs at the memory and I feel it push against the fabric of my sweatpants even more. I look down and rise one eyebrow at the huge erection.
I’m by no means a small man even in a state of repose and when aroused I can scare even myself a little, but I could swear I’ve never been this large before.
I sigh, groaning and starting to feel light-headed.
Why won’t the fucking thing go down for fuck’s sake!
I don’t need this right now. I have to speak with Evelyn, damn it, and I can’t talk to her in this state!
I need to clear my head, calm down.
I inhale and exhale slowly and then I see Eve behind my closed eyelids. Her long silky blonde hair falling all around us like a precious halo, her big eyes staring back into mine as our lips touch for the first time, her sharp intake of breath at the desire running between us, the feel of her bare, thick thighs spreading on either side of my hips on the sofa as I push her down.
My dick lurches upward, my balls aching.
Fuck!
I growl as I storm out of the living room.
It’s like I unleashed a beast I can no longer repress and now all I can think about is the feel of her soft curves and the sweet scent coming off her skin —notes of pink grapefruit, jasmine, neroli and honeysuckle haunting me.
And of course I know precisely what she smells like: I fucking bought her the stupid perfume myself!
Was I trying subconsciously to drive myself nuts?
It shouldn’t be legal for someone to smell this fucking delicious and have skin so velvety and smooth.
Damn it!
I need to stop this and focus.
Be rational.
Yes, that’s it: I have to be rational, think things through and then talk to her.
I stop abruptly when I realize that my feet brought me in front of her room, farther down the hall than I was supposed to stop and nowhere near my bedroom. My hands shakes as I touch the cherry wood of the door frame and I swallow thickly, trying not to think of her at the other side of it.
Possibly in bed, her holiday Pajama top rising a little and nothing underneath it.
I know she doesn’t like to sleep wearing a bra, because it’s too constrictive.
Fuck! How is that I’ve always known these little private details of her life and never went mad?
God, her breasts are so beautiful, pillowy and delicate.
I wonder what they would feel like under my fingers.
Plump, firm…
If I could rub my face between their softness, I’ll die a happy man.
My cock aches for attention, my balls drawing up.
Shit. I can’t stop my imagination from going, I’ve seen her wearing tiny bikinis that should be outlawed on a body as hot as hers more times than I could ever count.
All of a sudden, I realize it’s like I have a freaking compendium of pictures of her in my head, it’s like a fully referenced, never-ending Wikipedia page on her beauty, the expressions she could makes, the sounds she could utter under me.
It’s all information that’s always been there, I just never consulted it from this point of view.
I’ll give away my substantial billion-dollar trust fund and burn ST Worldwide to the ground to have the pleasure of knowing all her secrets, guess the color of her nipples, of her warm pussy, know the tightness of her entrance.
What it would be like to open this door and get in, kiss her again?
Kiss her all over and never ever stop?
My rock-hard cock jumps in approval, but I still take a step back and force myself to walk away.
I stomp into my room, close the door and throw myself on the bed.
If I was insomniac before, there’s no way I’ll fall asleep right now, being this desperately horny.
I wonder if she’s sleeping right now or if she’s lying awake on her bed.
Is she touching herself, letting her hand sleep between her supple legs, thinking about me, thinking about that mind-blowing kiss we shared and everything that could have followed after it?
She was aroused by our kiss: I could tell by the way she was moving under me.
Fuck, that girl can kiss. I never knew she had it in her. I told her she was smoking, but now I’m thinking it’s too poor an adjective to describe her fire. She isn’t just sexy: she’s like a burning supernova.
My balls grow even more heavy with need and I surrender to it.
I strip off my sweats and boxers, replaying every fraction of second of our kiss in my head.
My cock springs free, slapping slickly onto my lower abs and I firmly clasp it at its base. I grip the length even harder and I start to pump my hand up and down, squeezing on each downstroke and I groan to myself, eyes tightly shut.
I imagine her long legs opening up for me, her thick thighs wrapping around my hips, my cock rubbing against her hottest, most secret place.
A place I’ve incredibly never thought about.
A place I want to touch, taste, fuck.
A place I want to call mine.
No wonder I snarled and roared at Ross that she was not for him. She is mine. She’s always been. It’s just that I didn’t know it.
My erection throbs and pulses in my fist, more pre-cum dripping on my fingers as I think of her pink lips dragging onto my skin.
I thrust one last time and grunt, my eyes widening as one of the best orgasms of my life comes barreling down on me and I have to clench my teeth to keep from moaning out loud as I cum, my hot seed spurting out of my tip in an impossibly long jet as her name leaves my parched lips like a prayer.
Holy fuck, that was… I can’t even think of a word. She’s not even in the room with me and jerking-off to her still ranks higher than the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. Damn.
I lie there trying to recover and then I get up to clean after the mess I made. I see Evelyn’s face in my mind and incredibly my cock starts to stir again.
Oh, come on!
I sigh, I don’t think there’s going to be sleep of any kind for me tonight.
I glance at the screen of my phone and see it’s almost four in the morning already and I’m supposed to be ready to leave for my office in three hours because I promised my mom I would try to be home earlier in the afternoon.
Great, just great.
Maybe if I think about work, my dick will finally give me a break and
settle down.
I start to go over the speech I’m going to give in front of the Board of Directors, but I still can’t completely take my mind off of thoughts of Evelyn.
I could go for a swim, not that the activity could in any way remove Eve from my brain, but it could help me find a little bit of clarity.
The heated rooftop pool —that I swear costed more in permits and the sustainability projects we commissioned than in actual materials and construction— is always on when I stay over because usually I like to take a swim early in the morning and late in the night before I go to sleep.
I slip on some swimming trunks, grab a towel and head out of my room.
I walk the long hall in its entirety until I reach the private elevator and I get in.
I key in the code and a few seconds later I’m stepping out on the rooftop just a floor above.
It’s practically freezing out here, but at least it’s no longer snowing.
I walk into the little changing room and dump my towel on the bench.
I wake up my phone and start the app controlling all the building’s electronic equipment. I set the water temperature at a higher level than it’s normally kept at —it’s way below zero tonight— and then I press a button to pull the mechanical transparent cover open.
As soon as I hear it start to roll, I walk out and stand into the cold again, thinking this might keep my cock from frustrating me more for a little while at least.
I dive into the warm water and immediately start to swim the length of the pool.
I try to think of anything but Eve, but the lyrics she sang are still seeping through my mind.
It’s like the song kind of shed a light upon her for me, showing me what I already knew and so much more, making me see her as a sensual being: not just my best friend anymore, but my best friend that is also a beautiful, desirable woman whom I happen to love with all my heart.
I think how much like the girl of the song Evelyn is: ballsy, brave and so very sweet. Someone who can tease me a moment and make me think deep thoughts the next, a woman that can talk circles around everybody, included me, most of the time. Someone so strong yet so frail, her spirit covering everything like the snow in a cold winter night, someone who knows me. Someone who has been holding my heart in her hands all this time without even knowing it. My Evelyn.
I reach the opposite side of the pool and plunge down into the hot blue water and I see her eyes. Large, vivacious, sparkling as they bore into my soul and read all of its secrets.
I wade back up, cutting the water’s surface and sending little droplets splashing all over.
I start to swim back to the other side again, pushing my feet off the wall of the pool to propel myself into the water and still Evelyn is there.
It’s like a switch has been turned inside of me: the darkness is gone, the lights are on and I can finally see what she really means to me.
It’s all so suddenly clear and yet so fucking confusing at the same time.
Our relationship has always been there, strong and unbreakable; I always knew I had her love and I always knew how much I loved her and I know it’s the same for her, yet there was never a sexual component to our closeness. But why?
Did it just appear right now or was it always there, simmering underneath?
And if it was always there, what does it mean that we never allowed ourselves to feel it?
It seems as if I never even let my mind go there with there. Ever.
Not even when I was a forever-horny teenager.
And what am I feeling exactly now?
I love her and I want to fuck her, but are these feeling two separated things or are they a whole new thing altogether?
Is this just base, sexual attraction I’m feeling?
Or is this another layer to the affection we’ve always shared?
I know I love her fiercely, but loving someone and being in love with them is not the same thing.
I stop swimming, my arms coming to rest over the stone edge of the pool.
I’m protective, I’m jealous, I’m possessive of her, I’ve always been like this, but what does it mean that I feel this way?
I huff out a breath in a white cloud almost freezing at the contact with the frigid winter air.
Am I in love with her?
And if I am, why the fuck did I not see it?
Is it because loving Eve was second nature to me for all my life?
Were we too afraid to see how deeply our love could run?
When we started to grow up, did we perceive how all-consuming it would be and locked it away?
Were we scared it would ruin our friendship?
I could feel that fear while we were kissing at first. Like a single touch of our lips could destroy everything, but it didn’t.
We are confused, overwhelmed, but it made us stronger, our attachment gaining another dimension, another depth.
I know her: she had tears in her eyes when she fled, was she thinking about this?
Did she come to the same conclusions or is she still afraid right now?
What if she backpedals?
What if she’s too scared to move forward now?
And what about me?
Do I want it to move forward?
Where do I want this to go?
I want to kiss her again. I want to kiss her every fucking day of my life.
I want to kiss her at the stroke of midnight and dive into the future with her.
Fuck, I’m so confused and so damn fucking excited I feel practically giddy and I don’t know what to think anymore.
The only thing I know is that if she’s scared, I’ll do what I always do: I’ll hold out my hand to her and I know she will take it.
Chapter 9
EVELYN
I get in the car and unzip my jacket, trying valiantly to focus my thoughts on anything but Seth, but it seems my brain can’t be reasoned with anymore, not since we kissed last night.
I slam the door shut.
“Madison Avenue then, Miss Evelyn?” my family’s driver asks.
He is a little less formal than Seth’s, but he still won’t hear of dropping the ‘Miss’ bit.
“No, Steven, we’re stopping at the Trentons first.”
“Very well, madam.”
I lean my head backward on the seat and close my eyes as the car lurches forward.
God, I am such a coward!
Seth wanted to talk last night and I ran out of the room like I was on fire and then this morning I slunk off as soon as there was the barest hint of light in the sky.
I was dressed and ready to go already a little after six because I didn’t even try to fall asleep after I went back to my room.
I knew Seth was going to leave for his office early and endeavored to make sure to be out of there as soon as I heard his alarm going off.
Thank God I only had my dad to contend with.
He’s always been an early riser and he was already sitting in the kitchen, reading a copy of the ‘Wall Street Journal’ off his iPad and sipping an espresso.
I downed a cup of it under duress, nearly scolding my tongue and throat in the process and I managed to convince him I was in too much of a hurry to even have a single bite of croissant for breakfast.
I could tell he was a bit confused about my needing to leave so early to go to one of the free clinics —I’m not one to say no to freshly baked croissants usually—, but I rushed out before he could ask too many questions.
The plan was to just hide here for the whole day and only go back to the penthouse around an hour or so before the party, but fate apparently delights in frustrating me, because around ten I got a call from Karen.
She was in a state of complete panic, her voice so high pitched only dogs could have heard what the problem was until I calmed her down, assuring her that whatever was the crisis we could contrive a way to deal with it no matter what.
A ver
y clumsy waitress brought in by the catering company shattered Karen’s limited edition Baccarat crystal punch bowl.
The bowl, along with the rest of the set was supposed to grace the central table during tonight’s party. Nothing else but Baccarat would do and the set cannot be used mismatched or with no bowl.
She could not leave the building to go pick a new set —she’s tied-up with a never-ending flood of last minute arrangements and the unfailing little emergencies that seem to happen only when a party is five hours away, no matter that you started planning for every possible contingency three months ahead of time— and she trusted no one but me with choosing something appropriate for the night.
So even though it’s only four, I already have to go back there to take a look at one of the Baccarat crystal glass to get an idea of the design and then I have to go choose a new set in their Madison Avenue store.
Not the an-asteroid-dropped-onto-the-building kind of disaster I was afraid of when I first heard her panicked voice, but certainly enough to test Karen’s already frazzled nerves and my own poor ones, because I know Seth will already be at the penthouse by the time I get there and I don’t know if I can even look him in the eye.
Every time I close my eyes I’m back on that sofa, in his arms, his lips on mine.
I feel myself get flushed at the memory.
How could a single kiss unleash such a desire inside of me?
I want him so much, I can barely breathe and I’m so confused, my feelings are scattered all over the place.
I cover my blushing face with my arm and I groan.
How could my feelings for Seth change so fast?
A lifetime of utterly chaste friendship and then we kiss and all of a sudden I want to climb him like a tree?
Was the kiss we shared like flipping a switch?
Are we so volatile, so flighty that we could go from platonic to sexual so fast, caring nothing for the consequences?
It can’t be it.
It can’t be this simple.
Maybe it was more like pulling off a cover from a piece of art: you stand there watching the mysterious object mounted on its easel and you wonder at the shape hidden under the white sheet, trying to picture what the artist is about to show you and then someone unveils it and there you stand, gasping at the unsuspected beauty of what has been revealed to you.
