Seducing Her Best Friend

by Doris O'Connor

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2018 Doris O’Connor

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-732-0

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To Best Friends everywhere

  SEDUCING HER BEST FRIEND

  Dating Games, 1

  Doris O’Connor

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  Rosie

  “Incoming at twelve o’clock, new meat, and hot with it.” Sam grinned at me, and I rolled my eyes at him. Sam’s definition of interesting totty and mine were miles apart. He liked cock; I most definitely didn’t. It was kind of a shame, because Sam was six-foot-three of very gorgeous, very gay male, and one of my best friends. He was also the best damn bartender around, and I was lucky to have him working with me.

  “This one’s hawwt, girl. And heading straight for you. Reckon your drought is over.” Sam chuckled and ducked the tea towel I aimed at his head. I spun around, and my amused giggle at his antics died on my lips. I knew that beauty sashaying across the crowded floor, and she did indeed make a beeline for my end of the bar. Shimmering turquoise silk clung to every one of her delectable curves, and the thigh-high slit showed the top of her stockings. Long legs ended in six-inch killer heels. Her walk oozed sexual confidence, but my heart twisted inside my chest at the expression in Tirath’s eyes when they connected with mine. God, I could drown in those charcoal depths, had done so on more than one occasion in the past, wishing for things that could never be.

  Something was very wrong. My old school friend shouldn’t be here, for starters. Tirath Mishrah didn’t do gay bars. The Tirath I knew and loved frequented the upscale clubs and hotel lobbies of the very wealthy. Right now, she ought to be celebrating her engagement to the much older businessman her parents had chosen for her. She ought not be settling herself in front of me with a fake smile plastered on her beautiful face.

  “Hey, munchkin face. Give us a screaming orgasm, will you?”

  Sam chuckled behind me, and I once again rolled my eyes at the big lout.

  “The drink, dumb head. Tirath is a friend, that’s all. Sam, meet Tirath. Tirath, meet Sam.”

  My heart did another little lurch in my chest at the way Tirath’s eyes roamed over Sam’s impressive physique. Sam, being the showoff he was, puffed out his pecs and flexed his muscles. Despite my mixed emotions, I had to laugh when he leaned forward and batted his eyelashes at us both.

  “Ladies, I would love to oblige, but alas, you’re missing a vital appendage.”

  Tirath choked on the cocktail I had just passed to her, and with an exaggerated bum wiggle Sam sashayed to the other end of the bar to serve an impatient punter.

  “Such a waste. Why are the good-looking ones always gay? Or assholes of the first order?” Tirath downed her drink in one go and motioned at me for another. Before I could question her further, another batch of incoming drinkers noisily demanded my attention. Conversation became impossible as the bar got busier and the entertainment kicked off. As the evening wore on, my gut churned in unease. I’d be left with an ulcer at the age of twenty-six at this rate.

  Tirath talked to no one. Her long black tresses hid her facial expression, and the odd times our gazes connected, her expressive charcoal eyes were too bright and shimmered with unshed tears. Tears which made the knot in my stomach tighten even more. By the time Sam finally locked the door behind the last customer, my nerves were shot. Sam frowned at me from the door, as he looked toward Tirath with a question in his eyes. As for my friend, she still sat in the same spot she had been in all evening. She’d even given up the pretense of drinking. Instead Tirath sat holding her half empty cocktail in a white-knuckled grip.

  “Rosie, I can clear up here, if you need to go.”

  Sam’s deep voice seemed to shake Tirath out of her trance-like state. She visibly startled, and I took the glass out of her frozen hand, shocked to the core at the coldness of those slender digits. What on earth had happened to her to put her into this state? I was dying to find out, but we needed privacy for that, and as much as I trusted Sam with my secrets, Tirath’s were hers to keep or share.

  “Thanks, Sam, if you’re sure.” I smiled over at him and saw him incline his head in answer.

  “Positive. Get your tight little tootsies out of here, you two. I’m sure you got some catching up to do.” Sam’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, as he mouthed the rest to me over Tirath’s head. “You’re gonna be okay, chick?”

  I nodded at Sam, my attention already shifting to Tirath.

  “Hey, Princess T, let’s get you home.” The childhood nickname brought a watery smile to my girl’s tight features, and she uncurled her long legs from around the barstool. My possessive thoughts brought a rush of longing in their wake. So intense, that I had to grasp the side of the bar to stop myself from reaching out to Tirath and crushing her to me. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be able to keep my hands to myself if I touched her soft skin.

  “I can’t go home.” Tirath looked up briefly as she whispered those words. “I’m never going back there, never.”

  Sam whistled under his breath, and my stomach twisted anew at the pain behind these words.

  “I wasn’t suggesting you do. You’re coming home with me, and you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on.”

  Tirath bit back a sob. I couldn’t stand the distance between us anymore, and I pulled her into a hug meant to offer the comfort she so clearly needed. I knew immediately that this was a mistake. Tirath’s curves molded against me. Her scent surrounded me, made me breathe her in, and I bit back a curse as my treacherous hormones kicked in. It had been way too long since I last got laid, if my instant reaction to Tirath’s soft body was anything to go by. She was my friend, for pity’s sake. A friend in trouble, deep shit in fact, if the way she clung to me was any indication.

  Allowing myself one precious moment of pulling Tirath tighter into me, I inhaled deeply and stroked my hands up and down her sides in an effort to soothe her anxiety. It was an almost palpable presence between us, and so unlike my brave, boisterous, and bubbly friend that it damn well near broke my heart in two to see her like this. To feel the tiny tremors shaking her curves, as she clung to me as though I held the answers to all of her troubles.

  If only I did. If only I could offer her everything I wanted to. I ruthlessly ignored the tingles of awareness that traveled up through my fingertips at the contact of silky, bare skin as my hands settled on her exposed back. So warm and soft and mine, if only she let me be that person.

  Wishing for something didn’t make it come true, however, and I was reading far too much into this situation.

  Tirath sighed and snuggled in deeper for a second. Her breasts brushed against mine, and I swallowed a moan as my nipples tightened and ached at the contact. Unless I was completely mistaken—and as lust short-circuited my brain, I probably was just imagining this—Tirath’s nips firmed, too. How I wished that was the case, that we were alone, and I could suck those little nubs into my mouth and hear her moan in response. All too soon, Tirath shook her head and stepped out of my embrace.

  Heat stained her pale cheeks, and she didn’t seem to
be able to look at me. My heart leaped in my throat as I latched onto that tell. Jeez, I clearly needed to calm down, and my libido needed to shut the hell up.

  “I’m sorry. That was mean of me. I don’t … I mean … oh, fuck it all.”

  My heart threatened to beat itself out of my chest at the brief glimpse of something that read an awful lot like desire in my girl’s eyes. But it couldn’t be. We were just friends, always had been, and whilst I’d always wished for more, that didn’t mean it was going to happen. Tirath’s family would have a fit for starters, and there was the small matter of her fiancé. I’d never met him, but I resented every picture of the two of them I’d come across. There was something in his eyes that gave me the creeps, set all my internal senses on high alert. That man was hiding something, and as my sweet princess was here I’d hazard a guess she’d found out whatever murky secrets that man had.

  “Don’t sweat it, Princess T. No harm done.”

  I ignored Sam’s raised eyebrow. He knew better than anyone what that would have cost me. After all, Sam was secretly lusting after his own man-whore of a best male friend. We’d drowned our mutual sorrows on more than one occasion, and while I’d never volunteered any details on Tirath’s identity, he’d clearly figured out who she was. I took Tirath’s hand and only spared Sam a quick glance.

  “See you Monday, Sam. Thanks for locking up.”

  “No probs, chicklet. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t now.” He chuckled to himself and proceeded to stack the chairs onto the tables, ready for the early morning cleaning lady. I tamped down the twinge of guilt, knowing that without my help, Sam would be stuck here a while longer before he, too, could head home. A quick glance at Tirath dispersed that thought. My girl needed me more, and Sam was a big boy. He had this.

  I couldn’t stop myself from drawing slow circles on her hand with my thumb. Her skin was just so damn soft, and she needed the reassurance. However, my efforts seemed to have the opposite effect on her, if Tirath’s sharp intake of breath and the way her eyes widened were anything to go by. Sudden awareness hummed between us, making me lean closer to her, until the scrape of chair legs on the wooden floor shook us out of it. I smiled at Tirath, knowing full well my cheeks were flaming in tune with hers, and I tugged her along, out of the back and into the cool night air. I hoped that would cool my ardor. I promised myself a good long session with my favorite dildo tonight to get rid of the tension in my body. A plastic toy was a poor substitute for a warm, curvy body, but it would have to do. Jumping my friend’s bones was out of the question.

  “You still ride that thing?” Tirath pulled her hand out of mine and folded her arms over her full breasts. I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on the deep V of exposed flesh, even as I mentally told myself it was wrong to do so. To hide my visceral reaction to her I busied myself with handing Tirath the spare helmet instead and kick-started my old trusty scooter.

  “You know me and pink peril here. It will be a sad day when she has to go to the big scooter heaven in the sky. Now hop on. You’re not exactly dressed for riding a scooter, but it’s only a short ride to the canal.”

  “Still living on that canal boat, too, then?”

  Tirath’s lips quirked, and I, too, broke into a grin, as I immediately recalled some of the crazy parties we’d held on my boat back at Uni. A small lifetime ago now, before life and family intervened and Tirath had been called back to the family business to do her duty. A duty that had seen her spirited away from me, the only contact our weekly phone call and the snippets of society news about her exploits that I managed to glimpse on the newsstands.

  Which brought me straight back to the here and now and the question of what on earth Tirath was doing here. I fastened my own helmet and took pink peril off her stand. My mouth went dry at the sight of Tirath in my wing mirror. She was hoisting up her dress, and the action exposed lilac, lacy knickers as she, too, climbed on the scooter. Her slim, stocking-clad legs slid either side of mine, her arms went around my waist, and I masked the groan that escaped me at that sweet torment, by revving the engine—hard. The feel of those silky legs sliding against my own, as Tirath’s full breasts pressed into my back, was sheer sensual torture right there, as her nipples firmed into little bullets against the starched fabric of my uniform shirt.

  “Hold on tight, Princess T.” I mumbled the words, and Tirath scooted as close as humanly possible. Her body heat surrounded me, and I was beyond grateful for the helmet, which hid my facial expression. I knew I had a very expressive face—it had gotten me into more trouble than I chose to remember—and Tirath would instantly know that I imagined her naked under me if she saw my expression. I gritted my teeth and set off. My boat might only be a fifteen-minute ride away, but it was going to be the longest quarter of an hour of my life.

  Chapter Two

  Tirath

  God, what am I doing?

  I clung onto Rosie’s back, far too aware of my best friend. Every bump along the road pitched my arousal higher. I hadn’t come here to seduce my oldest friend, even if I knew how on earth to seduce a woman. Men were easy. Wear a short skirt, show some cleavage, smile, and they ate out of your hand. But Rosie—Rosie was my friend, and she was complicated and above all gay. She’d never hidden that side of her, unlike me, who played the dating game in an effort to hide what my father called “my unnatural urges”.

  But fuck it, I’ve had enough. Walking in on my intended, balls deep in his very male lover, had been the last straw. When I’d screamed my fury at my father, he’d just rolled his eyes and told me to shut up and put up. Really? So, it was all right for Max to give in to his urges and I would have to just turn a blind eye, but my liking girls was unnatural, was it? In the heated argument that followed, I might have just burned my last bridges, but I didn’t need the family money to survive, regardless of Papa’s last words thrown at my departing back.

  “Go, run. You’ll be back, the minute your money runs out.”

  If Rosie had shown me one thing, then it was that money meant nothing. Ever since I’d first brought a ragamuffin Rosie home from school, Papa had looked down his nose at my best friend. As though it was Rosie’s fault that she’d been brought up in care since she was three. We might be an unlikely duo, but we’d forged a firm, lifelong friendship, thanks to the scholarship that meant Rosie had attended the same expensive schools as I did.

  Much to Papa’s disgust, Rosie’s superior intellect meant her scholarship was renewed year after year, culminating with her attending Cambridge Uni at the same time as I did. It was only once our student days were over that our very different lifestyles had pulled us apart.

  It was something that I regretted to this day, not least because I’d have loved to go backpacking round Europe with Rosie. Eventually she settled back in the UK, touring the canals and living off odd jobs to support her one true passion of sculpting. Such a free spirit, something that I’d always admired about her. If only I could be more like her, I’d never have gone along with this farce and pretended all was okay in our weekly phone calls. Hearing her voice had been the highlight of my week, and when my world came crashing ‘round my ears, there was only one person I wanted to run to—Rosie. What I hadn’t accounted for was the flare of desire I’d feel at seeing Rosie again in the flesh. And I had no idea what to do about it. I couldn’t risk our friendship.

  With one last death-defying lurch we rounded the corner and screeched to a halt at the canal path. Rosie’s scooter was not called the pink peril for nothing. My best friend’s driving skills had not improved much since her Uni days, it seemed.

  Rosie’s equally candy floss pink canal boat loomed large in front of us, and I barely suppressed a giggle. For a woman who dressed almost exclusively in trousers and combat boots, she sure liked the color pink. It was one of the endearing contradictions I loved most about Rosie. Her tough, no-nonsense exterior hid a soft heart and a generous nature. I’d known Rosie would offer a place to crash with no questions asked, until I was ready t
o tell her why I was here.

  Climbing off the pink peril hitched my dress higher up my thighs, and I was suddenly all too aware of how skimpy my dress was. I’d chosen it for the dinner party Max and I had been supposed to attend tonight.

  God, that seemed a lifetime ago now. Had that ever been truly me? The person who tried her utmost to be the perfect daughter and fiancée. To do her duty by her family, marry well, and churn out an heir and a spare, like tradition dictated. Hell, no. I was worth more than that. I deserved some happiness, and maybe, just maybe, I could find that with Rosie.

  The slight breeze by the water skimmed up my legs and across my heated core. Being this closely pressed up to Rosie had left me wet. The crotch of my lacy panties was soaked through with my arousal, and I bit my lip and swallowed a groan of pure need. Jesus, I wanted her, and I had no idea how to show her that.

  Rosie stared at me, and heat flooded my cheeks. Her quiet perusal settled on my skin like darts of pleasure, making me fumble with the strap of the helmet.

  “Here, let me.” Rosie’s slim fingers made short work of the clasp, and our hands touched as we both went to pull the helmet off my head. I dropped mine hastily, because a tingle of electricity darted along my nerve endings and settled deep inside my pussy at this innocent enough contact. Did she feel it, too? This sudden awareness between us as we stared at each other for what seemed like ages, the silence between us heavy and sexually charged.

  Frozen in place by the silent heat in Rosie’s blue eyes, I didn’t know what to do next. Eventually, Rosie smiled and ran a hand through my hair. It made me want to lean into her touch, to blurt out the conflicting emotions bombarding my soul, but I did neither. Just stood there like a lemon, so damn unsure.