by Megan Hart
“I never liked poetry,” he said. “I had a…teacher…in school who made me recite lots of poetry. It was a way to…well, it doesn’t matter why. I hated poetry because of that teacher. I never thought I could actually like a poem. But I like that one.”
She heard him yawn and frowned, safe in knowing he couldn’t see her. She was already making a face in anticipation of him ending the conversation, but her voice was neutral in reply when he told her he had to hang up.
“Yeah,” Katie said. “It’s late.”
The invitation was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. She didn’t want to invite him out, not even to the coffee shop where they’d first met. He might say no. Worse, he might stop calling her.
“Night, Katie. Sleep tight.”
“You too,” Katie said and clutched the phone tight in her fingers after he’d disconnected before she did, too.
She was still thinking of that conversation when she got home with Dean in tow.
“Maybe that’s your problem,” Dean said as he flipped through a magazine she’d left on her coffee table. He tossed it down and looked at her. “What? Maybe he knows too much about you already. Destroyed the mystery.”
“So then why does he keep calling me?” Katie nudged off one shoe with a sigh and then the other before flopping onto her couch. “Do men often call women late at night just to chat because they long to hear the sound of another voice? I think not.”
“You’re asking the wrong guy about that.”
“Do you ever call someone late at night just to hear them talk?”
“Only if I’m jerking off at the same time,” Dean said.
Katie made a face and wriggled her toes, free of the high-heeled pumps. “Maybe he’s jerking off.”
Dean shot her a grin. “Do you?”
“That,” Katie said, “is none of your business.”
Dean slid onto the couch beside her. “You do.”
“Maybe. Once or twice.” Katie curled her feet underneath her, looking at him. “He has a very sexy voice.”
“So why not invite him over? Put on some soft music, make him dinner. Guys love that sort of shit.” Dean tweaked her knee through her soft skirt. “Make the first move.”
Katie shrugged. “I don’t know. I like him. Maybe too much. I don’t want to fuck it up, Dean. If he was into me like that, don’t you think he’d have asked me on a real date or something instead of just calling me and talking for hours?”
“Maybe he’s afraid, too. Guys can be afraid,” Dean said.
“Are you?” She tilted her head to study him.
“I’m not afraid of anything.” Dean frowned.
She let it go. She knew him better than that. After Ethan left, Dean hadn’t said his name again. He’d erased Ethan from his life as thoroughly as though his lover had never existed as part of it. In some ways Katie admired that about Dean, his commitment to forgetting the past. On the other hand, she knew there had to be fond memories among the bad ones. She never regretted remembering relationships, even ones that ended.
So why was she so afraid to take a chance on one with Jimmy? Even if it didn’t work out, she wouldn’t have lost anything and might be missing something great. Katie sighed.
“Hey.” Dean squeezed her again. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
“Huh? About Jimmy?”
“Focus,” Dean said. He pulled out a strip of condoms from his back pocket and unfurled them, dangling, before tossing them onto the coffee table. “About us. This.”
“Oh, the challenge.” Katie drew out the word, then smiled. “No. I’m up for it.”
Dean smiled too. “Good.”
Katie was used to Dean encroaching on her personal space. He was a hugger, a toucher, a stroker. Working together on projects, bent over a computer screen, it wasn’t uncommon for him to stand behind her with his chin on her shoulder to see what she was doing, or to put an arm over her shoulders while they walked someplace. Dean’s physical affection was constant and casual.
This was going to be something totally different.
She wasn’t sure what to expect when Dean kissed her. It was nothing like the New Year’s Eve smooch. That had been rough and teasing, both of them a little drunk and laughing. Not serious.
She should’ve known better than to think her experience with that kiss could’ve prepared her for the sensation of Dean’s mouth for real. He slanted his lips over hers as his hand came up to cup the back of her neck. The couch gave as he moved, dipping under his weight as he braced his hand on the back of it. His knee moved between hers. His mouth opened. He tasted of mint.
She’d closed her eyes automatically when he kissed her and opened them when he pulled back. Dean blinked, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth wet. He slid his tongue over his lips.
“That’s a start,” Katie said.
Dean laughed, low. “You’re not going to give me one fucking inch, are you?”
“No. You’re going to have to work for this, Dean.” She moved closer and brushed his lips with hers back and forth before pausing a breath away. “I told you it wasn’t going to be easy.”
His fingers tightened at the base of her skull. When he licked his mouth again, his tongue teased her lips. They kissed again, deeper this time. Longer. When they pulled apart this time, Katie’s heart had started up a determined thunder-thump she felt in all her pulse-points.
“Your mouth,” Dean murmured, “is so soft.”
She laughed and tipped her head back when he moved to kiss her jaw and throat. “All of me is soft.”
Dean pressed his teeth to her skin and in the next moment, Katie felt sharp suction. His hands shifted, sliding down her body to her hips. She was on Dean’s lap a moment after that, straddling him with her knees pressing the couch’s soft cushions and her hands on his shoulders.
The kiss got harder still. Tongues tangling, teeth clashing, lips nipping. Dean gripped her hips. Katie pressed herself against him.
This was definitely working for her, but for Dean? Not so much, at least so far as Katie could tell from the lack of stiff, hard cock pressing against her. She broke the kiss and cupped his face in her hands.
“Close your eyes.”
He narrowed them, but didn’t close them. “Huh?”
She took his hand from her hip and put it to her breast, shifting his thumb to rub over her tightening nipple. “These are distracting you.”
Dean looked at his palm full of breast and gave her a rueful grin. “Naw.”
Katie laughed softly. “Close your eyes. Wait. I have a better idea.”
She’d tied her hair back this morning with a soft vintage scarf. Now she pulled it off and unwound it, letting the silky fabric slide over her fingers. She folded it in half as Dean watching, eyes still narrowed.
“I didn’t know you were kinky, Katie.”
“Shh.” She tied the scarf over his eyes and smoothed the fabric, letting her fingers trace his cheekbones and chin before running a fingertip over his lips. He tried to bite her finger but she pulled away before he could.
Then she kissed him again. They kissed for a long time without a break. Katie unbuttoned Dean’s shirt and put her hand inside, flat on his bare chest. His heart had begun thumping, too. His cock had also gone satisfyingly hard against her crotch.
Still kissing him, she moved off his lap and unzipped his fly. Dean lifted his hips to help her push his pants over his hips. He wore navy boxer briefs, the front tenting impressively. Katie took his prick in her hand through the soft material of the briefs and stroked.
Dean groaned into her mouth.
If she spoke, it might spoil the illusion for him, whatever that might be. Whoever he was imagining. So Katie kept silent. Instead, she kissed and stroked him, eventually freeing him from the confines of his briefs. She couldn’t help the small groan of her own when at last she held Dean’s silky hot cock against her bare skin.
Katie’d been serious when she told Dean she had no doubts sh
e could make him come. Now, with his prick in her hand and his mouth open beneath hers, begging, Katie was determined to enjoy it. And not just because it would mean she’d win this challenge.
She moved her mouth down his body, kissing and sucking gently on his smooth, warm skin. Sucking harder when Dean’s breath caught and the tight muscles of his belly jumped beneath her lips. A great hand-job wasn’t about showing off, in Katie’s opinion. It was about paying attention.
It was also about being smart. With a quick glance at Dean, Katie reached for the bottle of lube she kept in the drawer of the end table. She filled her palm with thick, slippery fluid. This time when she stroked him, Dean muttered a low curse.
With this beautiful body in front of her, Katie wanted to worship it. Take hours kissing and sucking and licking every curve and line. Her cunt ached, sweetly aroused at the erotic fantasies stroking Dean gave her. She’d never been a fan of denial, either, saw no point in it, so as she stroked Dean’s cock a little faster, she also slid her hand into her panties and gently squeezed her clit between her thumb and forefinger.
She moved from Dean’s lap to the couch without letting go of his erection. She leaned to kiss him and his greedy mouth took hers in a kiss deep and long and fierce. Her fingers in her panties moved faster as she jerked him off.
When Dean put his hand on hers, changing the pace, the pleasure building in her clit leaped up a notch. This was everything she loved about sex–a little fast, a little rough, a little furtive and dirty. Yet safe, too. Nothing would change between them because of this. Nothing really could.
“Fuck,” Dean muttered as his hand gripped hers, moving it faster. “I’m gonna come… .”
“Me too,” Katie murmured as her fingers circled her clit faster.
Dean let out a short, startled gasp. Maybe at the sound of her voice, maybe at his orgasm. His cock throbbed in her fist and he shuddered. Heat spilled over her fingers and the scent of him, along with his low, desperate growl, sent Katie tipping over the edge right along with him.
His hand kept hers from moving more. Panting, Katie fell back against the couch cushions and took her hand out of her panties. Then she laughed, soft at first before getting slowly louder.
Dean hooked the scarf from his eyes and tossed it at her. “You cheated.”
“I didn’t cheat,” she protested. “I told you I could get you off. I did.”
Dean glanced at her lap, her skirt rucked up around her waist, and gave her a smug grin. “So did you.”
“Ah,” Katie said, leaning in to brush a sweet kiss against his mouth, “but you didn’t do it for me. I did it myself. So it doesn’t count, does it?”
“Cheater,” Dean murmured against her mouth, but didn’t pull away.
The kiss lingered. She was surprised. Surprised more by the look on his face when she finally pulled away to rearrange her clothes.
“What?” Katie asked. “Like I was going to leave myself high and dry?”
Dean reached for a handful of tissues from the box on the end table, and took care of cleanup before tucking himself back into his pants. “I call do-over.”
“Do over?” Katie guffawed and got up, letting her skirt fall back down around her ankles as she headed for the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”
Dean caught up to her in the kitchen. He trapped her between his body and the counter as she reached for a glass. “I mean it, Katie.”
She paused. “Dean, it’s no big deal. Really.”
“It’s a big deal to me.”
Before she could answer or protest, her cell rang. She recognized the ringtone. “That’s Jimmy.”
Dean frowned and stepped back. “Guess you’d better answer, then.”
“Is this going to make trouble between us? Because I’d never have agreed to it if I knew that.” Katie grabbed her phone but didn’t answer it. The call went to voice mail and beeped while she waited for Dean’s answer.
“No trouble. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, okay?”
“Dean–”
“Hey,” he said, frown erased by a classic, sunny Dean grin. “This isn’t over, Katie. Don’t worry, I’ll let myself out. See you tomorrow.”
Her phone beeped with a text message. Also from Jimmy. Katie looked at it, then at Dean, who was already waving goodbye as he ducked out the door. “Dean!”
But he was already gone.
Chapter 4
It hadn’t been the best hand-job he’d ever had, so why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about it? Her hands had been small and soft, her mouth soft and sweet, her curves sweet and lush. Katie was a gorgeous woman and he liked her. Being queer didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate her attributes, but until she put the blindfold on, he hadn’t been able to really get into what they were doing.
He was more determined than ever to prove her wrong.
“Your face is going to stay that way,” Katie said serenely from behind him.
She was the one who’d brought the coffee today, two paper cups of it bearing the familiar logo of the Green Bean from down the street. She handed him one and sipped from her own. She looked fresh and bright-eyed, a habit that annoyed him most days but particularly on this one.
“You couldn’t even see my face. My face is fucking fabulous,” Dean said.
“Your eyes are squinty,” she said in a low voice as she passed him, like she was sharing a secret though there was nobody around to hear them. She bumped him with her hip.
He followed her into her office and closed the door. She looked up with a sigh and set her cup down. Dean didn’t sit.
“We didn’t even fuck,” he told her.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Are you still on that?” Katie flipped her fingers at him and leaned back in her chair.
“We said we were going to have sex.”
“We did have sex. Sort of.” Katie crossed her legs and her skirt rode up, giving him a flash of thigh and something that looked suspiciously like pink satin panties.
“I want to try again,” he said.
He’d known Katie for a long time. She often had a witty comeback or a response as subtle and effective as a raised brow. He got her, that was the thing, and knew she understood him, too. It was what made them great partners and better friends. Now, though, he could read nothing on her face, nothing in her eyes.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Katie said after a minute.
“What? Why not?” He wasn’t used to this, someone turning him down. That was a cliché and arrogant, but true. Mostly because Dean had a finely honed sense of who to hit on, not necessarily, as Katie had so often said, that nobody ever wanted to refuse him.
Dean had been refused before, all right. He knew how it felt. It sucked.
“Because we’re friends, Dean, and I don’t want to mess that up.”
“You agreed to it before.”
“That was before,” Katie said calmly enough, but he didn’t have to hear a tremor in her voice to see she was sort of upset. He could tell by the way she didn’t drink her coffee.
“Hey. What’s going on?” Dean slid into the chair across from her and moved forward, forcing her to uncross her legs so his knees could press hers. “Something up with that douchebag Jimmy or whatever the hell his name is?”
“Nothing’s up with Jimmy. That’s the problem.”
“Forget him,” Dean said. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him…”
She laughed at that. “Right. Because you’re the expert on seeing what’s right in front of you?”
Dean frowned and stood. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
Katie shrugged and swiveled her chair back and forth. “Maybe I want more than a quick fuck from him, that’s all.”
“Isn’t the problem you’re not getting any sort of fuck?”
She sighed, her shoulders lifting and dropping with the force of it. “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”
“So…the challenge is off?”
Kati
e eyed him, one eye squinting and her head tilted as though she were seriously studying him as something foreign. Incomprehensible. “Why do you have such a bug up your ass about this sex thing?”
“You said I couldn’t,” Dean told her.
And that was the truth, mostly.
His phone rang, the ring tone a snippet of classical music he’d assigned to Jacob. His fingers slipped a little on the phone’s glass face as he looked, anyway, to make sure that was the number. He didn’t answer it.
Katie was smiling at him when he looked up, her smile half-quirked. “Was that him?”
“There is no him,” Dean said.
Her grin got a little broader. “Right.”
She swiveled again, kicking her foot up and down, showing off an expanse of shapely thigh he knew she’d never have revealed to anyone else in the office. Katie didn’t do shit like that, use her tits and ass to get attention, even though she could. She was always more comfortable with him than with the other men in the office, and for the first time, this stung a little.
“Is it because you don’t think I’m manly enough?”
Her grin wavered, her brow furrowed. “What?”
“You don’t think I’m manly enough,” Dean said, convinced.
“Oh, Dean. Really? C’mon. You should know better than that.”
Her scoffing didn’t make him feel better, especially when she turned her chair to face the computer, dismissing him. Dean spun her around to face him again. Katie looked as surprised as he felt.
“I want to do it,” Dean said in a low voice.
Katie drew in a breath. She smelled good. She always did, but today he seemed to notice it more. He seemed to notice everything about her more than usual today, most of it accompanied by the memory of her hand on his cock.
“Would it change your mind,” Katie murmured, her gaze bright, her voice throaty, “if I told you I absolutely believed you could make me come?”
“I’ll prove it to you.”
