Friend Zone Series Box Set

by Nicole Blanchard

  But I didn’t want that.

  I wanted her to be with me of her own volition.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “It’s one thing to be with me, it’s another for it to be your first time. I’m—” the words tangled up in my chest. “I’m not sure I’m a good enough guy for you to share that with.”

  The tension around her eyes and mouth softened and a little smile tugged at her lips. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Dead serious, sweet cheeks.”

  The use of the nickname didn’t distract her like I’d intended. Instead she shifted closer. I fisted my hands into the couch cushions so I wouldn’t reach for her.

  “Does that mean if I won’t have sex with you tonight, we can’t do anything else?” she asked solemnly.

  “I think we’ve done enough for now.”

  “Then why did you come inside?” She’d moved closer and her lips were at my ear. I shivered and she nuzzled against the skin there.

  When I spoke, it was through gritted teeth. “Because I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I said I was a virgin, Dash, not that I was completely inexperienced.”

  With that statement, Layla straddled me in one swift movement that had my eyes popping open and my hands settling on her hips. “What are you doing?”

  She fitted her mouth to my neck, and I arched back, but there was nowhere to go. “You’re crazy if you think you aren’t good enough for anyone,” she said against my skin.

  Sweet mother of God, I could feel the heat of her through my tux pants and the strain of my dick against my zipper was going to send me to an early grave. “That’s a veritable compliment coming from you.”

  “I’m pretty sure it was a compliment.” Her fingers began mapping my shoulders, tracing my chest, and I wondered if I was in heaven or hell.

  “I always knew you were sadistic,” I managed to say.

  She let out a throaty giggle. “I think you’re masochistic because you sure seem to like it.”

  My hands bit into her hips. “Oh, I like it, but you need to stop.”

  Layla ground down onto my erection. “Are you sure?”

  “Christ, Layla,” I bit out, then drove my fingers into her hair. I took her mouth with a violence that shocked the both of us. After a few moments, I broke it off. Breathing hard, I asked, “What do you want from me?” I wanted to tell her, take it, you can have whatever you want, but I didn’t think she was ready for that.

  “I think I want you, Dash. I don’t understand it. It goes against everything I’ve believed about us for the past…forever, but you make me feel…” Distracted, she rocked back and forth against me. “You make me feel so good.”

  There was only so much resisting I could do. I tugged her mouth down to mine. Against her lips, I said, “My pants stay on. That’s non-negotiable.”

  She bit my lip. “Are the non-negotiations up for negotiating?”

  “Layla,” I warned.

  Pulling back, she smiled wickedly. “Fine, I accept your terms.”

  My exhalation rattled out from my lips. Then I reached up and tugged on the sleeves of her dress. It didn’t take much to have them sliding down her shoulders, the red material slithering over her skin, silk against silk. She helped push the dress off her arms and down to her waist.

  The strapless bra was a thing of wonder. It cupped and lifted her breasts like an offering. I paused to kiss the gentle curves as she arched her back in submission. Fuck everything else, having her in my arms was worth any sacrifice.

  When I took my fill, I reached around to unclasp her bra and the anticipation filled me with a tension that threatened to snap my control. She lifted and splayed her hands over my shoulders, letting me take the lead. I flicked the clasp and my eyes were glued to the bra as it tightened temporarily, then released.

  With a care I didn’t know I possessed, I set the bra aside and feasted my gaze on her bared skin. Her breasts were perfection. They fit in my hands like they were made for me. Her pretty pink-brown nipples tightened in my palms as I cupped her. Her head fell back, her hair dangling in a dark curtain and brushing against my legs. With her neck vulnerable to me, I brushed kisses along the expanse of her skin.

  “You’re so goddamn beautiful,” I whispered against her throat where I felt her purr.

  “When your hands are on me, I feel beautiful. I feel—”

  Her words cut off as I tweaked one of her nipples with my fingers. The strangled cry had me gripping her more tightly.

  “What do you feel?” I asked as she trembled.

  “Dirty, but in a good way. You make me want to do things.”

  It was getting harder to breathe. “What kind of things?” I almost couldn’t believe I was here, with her half-naked and spread for me on my lap. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve it, but I wouldn’t let it go to waste.

  “Everything,” she said on a sigh.

  I groaned and took her with me as I leaned back against the couch. “Stand up,” I said with a tap on her ass. “Let’s get you out of that dress.”

  She shook, either from nerves or excitement as I helped her to her feet. Her movements were jerky and hurried while she shoved the dress the rest of the way down. Inch by inch she revealed more of her body and it was enough to make a grown man beg. Soft, soft skin. Sweetly flared hips and shapely legs. A flimsy excuse for panties that made my mouth water in anticipation.

  When she stood before me in just those panties and shifted from foot to foot, I reached for her and gave myself a few long moments to run my hands over her. Beneath them, her muscles quivered, and I pressed open-mouthed kisses to her belly and on each hip bone.

  She breathed my name like a prayer and I’d gladly go to hell to have the taste of her on my tongue.

  Chapter Nine

  Layla

  Control was a thing of the past.

  There wasn’t any room for self-doubt.

  All I had was the kaleidoscope of sensations inspired by Dash’s touch.

  At his urging, I stepped forward, but he didn’t pull me back onto his lap, like I expected, instead, he tapped my thigh and slithered down until I was straddling his face instead.

  “Dash! W-what are you doing?” Stammering, face on fire, I tried to move, but his grip on my thighs was absolute.

  He kissed my inner thigh and wrapped his arms around my legs. “I told you my pants had to stay on, but I didn’t say anything about yours.”

  With his eyes locked on mine, he pulled the crotch of my panties aside, then brushed his fingers over me ever so lightly. My knees buckled, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he pulled me closer, replacing his fingers with his mouth.

  I cried out, unable to stop myself. His tongue slicked over my clit and I gasped in shock. My whole body clenched at the warm, wet sensation.

  Dash pulled away, used his fingers to spread me to his gaze. “You said you were inexperienced, but have you ever done this before?” When I didn’t answer immediately, he latched on to the enflamed flesh of my clit and sucked.

  “T-this?” I asked.

  “Mmhmm.” I could feel the vibrations of it throughout my whole body.

  “No. No, I’ve never done this.”

  Somehow, I knew it wouldn’t have been as good with anyone else.

  “Never?”

  “N-no.”

  “I’ll make it good for you.” His tongue was apparently good at things other than slinging insults, because he was true to his word.

  He shifted, adjusted my hips, and his tongue slipped inside me. I didn’t have the words to tell him so; I only had thin, soft cries of pleasure.

  It was a tease, I knew that much. I’d never wanted to be filled so badly in my life. At the same time, I’d never been so wracked with ecstasy either.

  Even more than the swipe of his tongue and the pressure of his fingers, as he began his assault against my clit, was the sounds he made. It had never occurred to me a man would make such sounds while he was going
down on a woman. He moaned, he hummed. It sounded like he was enjoying the best meal of his life—and maybe he was.

  That, along with everything else, is what worked me over the edge. When I attempted to move backward, away from the constant stimulation, he clamped his hands on my thighs and licked harder, faster. The orgasm locked my muscles tight and I fisted his hands, needing the anchor.

  Unbidden, my hips rocked against his face and his tongue slicked back and forth from pussy to clit and then back again. I didn’t know I could be so blatantly sexual. I never had been before, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.

  When I began to shake, Dash carefully rearranged my panties, and then held me steady while he shifted so we were lying on our sides on the couch. He took the throw I’d draped over the sofa back, and shook it out over both of us while I shuddered beside him.

  Swamped with an emotional response I hadn’t anticipated, all I could do was bury my face in his throat and try to fight my way back to a tentative equilibrium. My breathing erratic, I struggled to get myself under control, but it was almost impossible.

  Dash tipped my chin up and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. It was a tenderness I hadn’t expected from him, one that undid me as much as any orgasm ever could. I could taste the remnants of my release on his lips and I deepened the kiss, unable to contain myself. Lifting my leg, I wrapped it around his waist, but he made chiding sounds and kept me from grinding against him.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Self-conscious now, I nodded, not meeting his eyes.

  “Don’t be shy now, sweet cheeks. That was the sexist thing I’ve ever seen. Do you always come that hard?”

  I shook my head. “No, nowhere near anything like that.”

  His hand clenched on my ass where he’d been rubbing to soothe me. “Really?”

  “You sound surprised,” I said dryly. I hoped the easy banter would help turn things back to normal.

  “Nah, I just like hearing how much you liked it.”

  “As if your ego needed any help.”

  “That’s not why I like hearing it.”

  The closeness was getting to me. I’d already come once, but I wanted more. I guess that’s what people meant when they said once you got a taste, you couldn’t get enough. It didn’t help I could feel the hard ridge of his dick between my legs and the aftershocks still coursed through my body.

  Trying to focus on the conversation, I squeezed my eyes shut, but that didn’t help. It only intensified the sensations. “Why do you?”

  His hand trailed up and down my back. “I like knowing I make you feel good.”

  “Such a change from pissing me off,” I commented. I hadn’t known it could be like this. Not only because Dash and I were normally at each other’s throats, but because I’d never been able to relax so fully with another man before. Especially not when I was practically naked, and he was still fully dressed. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider the pants?”

  “Layla,” he said in a warning voice.

  “I don’t—we don’t have to have sex, but I want to see you. I want to taste you and make you feel good, too.”

  And I did, more than anything. I wanted to satisfy my own curiosity, but I wanted to see him unravel, too. The thought of Dash vulnerable and crazy because of me was more than slightly appealing.

  “That’s not a good idea,” he said, but I could feel his chest rise and fall as his breathing accelerated.

  Curious, I made enough room between us so I could slip a hand underneath his shirt. Like a shot, his moved to stop me, but I tsked. “You said I couldn’t take your pants off. You didn’t say anything about your shirt.”

  He let me unbutton the shirt, slip it over his arms, then throw it behind me, but his expression was stormy. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

  His skin was tawny and lightly dusted with springy hair that tickled my palms as I explored his chest. Experimentally, I leaned forward and dragged my nipples across his chest, feeling his warm skin against my own. We both moaned in tandem as his hands fisted in my hair and he yanked me forward.

  I could get lost in him, I decided as we battled for control of the kiss. It was bruising, punishing, and I couldn’t get enough of feeling the rough contrast of hair against the hard tips of my breasts.

  “Hmm?” he prompted. His hand dipped between us to find me wet. I mewled in the back of my throat. “You want to come again? Is my girl greedy?”

  I gripped his shoulders with both hands, tried, and failed, to focus. “No, Dash, wait.” My protests were feeble at best and he knew it, but I wanted him more than I wanted another orgasm.

  My hands dove for the clasp on his slacks. I managed to get it undone and unzipped before he could knock my hands away. I took his mouth with my own and had my hand inside his briefs when he cuffed my wrist with his grip.

  “What did I say?” he asked darkly.

  I couldn’t help but grin. “You said they couldn’t come off.” He was thick and hard in my hands. I stroked once, slowly, and reveled in his groan. “They’re not off.”

  Silence filled the room, broken only by harsh exhalations, soft groans, or the wet, sloppy sounds of his fingers on my pussy or my hand around his cock. I was seconds away from asking—or begging—to fill me up when he brushed my hands away.

  “Dash,” I started, but then he adjusted my legs and rolled me to my back. I gasped and then parted my knees for him to brace himself above me. “Oh, God,” I said thickly.

  “This what you wanted?” I didn’t have words, so I nodded. “Stay very still,” he warned.

  I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to, not when he pressed the head of his cock to my entrance and rubbed, torturously, back and forth to coat it with my wetness. One flex of my hips and I could have him inside me. I considered it, but he was thick and long and I wasn’t even sure how he’d fit.

  Then, he shifted my legs to wrap around his waist and began to rub his cock over my clit with long, slow strokes that sent waves of heat all over me. I reached down to feel him, and he groaned as I cupped my hand over his length to press him harder against my clit.

  The head of his cock bumped against my palm with each thrust and he began to groan, softly at first, and then deep and long. Distracted, and rapidly becoming obsessed with the sounds of him in ecstasy, I scrabbled for purchase when he moved abruptly, and his head disappeared between my legs.

  This time, he allowed no patient buildup. His tongue honed in on my clit with expert precision, and I gasped as his fingers explored my entrance. As the orgasm swelled, then crested, he slipped in one finger. The burn made me suck in a breath, but any twinges of pain were drowned out as another orgasm swept me away.

  When I came back down, it was to the vision of him looking up at me from between my legs, his hand swiping at the moisture on his mouth. Without giving him time to protest, I pushed him back until he was splayed on the couch.

  This time he didn’t say a word as I tugged his briefs down enough for me to reach in and pull him out. The sight of him had my already tender muscles clenching in appreciation. Dicks weren’t theoretically supposed to be beautiful, but his was. A fat, pink head flushed with arousal, slightly thicker in the middle and long enough I knew I’d feel every single inch.

  He let me explore, stroking his length until he threw back his head, his jaw clenched. I knelt between his legs and dipped down for an experimental lick. At his groan, I swirled my tongue around the head, tasting salt and heat. I sucked softly, then took him deep, as far as he could go, and his thighs shook on either side of me.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, his voice strained, “but I’m about to come, baby, and you should stop.”

  Not a chance in hell. If he got to taste me, then I wanted to taste him. I wanted it more than anything in the world at that moment, so instead, I met his eyes, and continued to stroke him. He groaned again, his eyes rolling back. I felt him get impossibly harder in my hands, heard him moan, then tasted his release as he
spilled into my mouth almost faster than I could swallow.

  When it became too much, he reached down and stilled my hands. I released him with an audible pop, and he gathered me up onto his lap as we both came down.

  I wasn’t sure where we went from here—where could we—but I was going to soak up whatever moments we had left until reality came screaming back.

  Chapter Ten

  Dash

  We must have fallen asleep tangled together, our clothes half off and me still in my shoes, because when I cracked my eyes open, I found myself in an unfamiliar room with Layla curled on my side, snoring softly. Her hair was a knotted mess spilling over my chest and her mascara was smeared under her eyes, but she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

  I gave serious thought to waking her up and taking her right there while she was soft and sleepy. I could imagine it, how silky her skin would be under my roughened palms, how her body would wake to my touch. I’d want her on the brink before her eyes ever opened, then I’d want to push her over just as she came fully awake.

  One day, maybe, when things weren’t so complicated.

  Instead, I gently shifted her to the side and brushed her hair away. “Layla.” When she only groaned and batted me away, I smiled. “Hey, sweet cheeks, it’s time to get up and stop being lazy.”

  At that, she cracked open a bloodshot eye and glared at me, which—fucked up as it may be—was almost as satisfying as bringing her to orgasm. She winced and covered her face, then dragged at the blanket covering us to wrap around her body.

  As she sat up and stretched, I got to my feet, readjusted my pants, and zipped them. I tried not to think about how it had felt to have her hands and mouth wrapped around me, how her eyes had smoldered when she looked up at me with her mouth full of my cock. Tried and failed.

  Clearing my throat, I asked, “You mind if I use your bathroom?”