The Best Friend Zone: A Small Town Romance

by Nicole Snow

  My mouth closes over hers again. I kiss down her throat, finding her nipples, making sure she’s good and ready to take every inch of me.

  “If you want to go slow tonight, just say so,” I whisper, stopping my tongue-work when she moans.

  She arches her hips with another pout on her face. This time, not so playful.

  “Not too slow. I want you now.”

  Shit, she’s good.

  The girl doesn’t even need to be a born dirty talker to make my balls ache like they’re on fire. The heat in her voice and those steaming witchfire-blue eyes turn me rabid.

  Sitting back, I wrap a fist around my throbbing base and guide my tip into her.

  The first touch of her hot, wet pussy feels divine. Like having my entire length sucked off by an angel the deeper I go.

  “So fucking tight...you’re killing me,” I growl when I’m in as deep as I can go, pinning her fully under me, touching my forehead to hers.

  Between her slick heat and the moan I pull out of her, I know this won’t last as long as I want it to.

  My full glide inside her is as close to perfection as I’ve ever known.

  For a few seconds, I just savor her, closing my eyes.

  The way she clenches around me is just that fucking good.

  I hold still, giving her time to get used to me, feel me filling her completely.

  If she wants it fast and dirty tonight, the more she’s warmed up, the harder I’ll take her.

  “I’ve never felt anything so perfect,” she says, reading my mind and letting out another sultry groan.

  “Never,” I agree. “More to come. Hold the fuck on, darlin’. We’re gonna go hard.”

  She wraps her legs around my hips and lifts her head up to kiss my chest, adding this teasing nip of her teeth.

  Fuck, I can’t hold on any longer.

  My hips peel back and crash into hers again, one harsh, full-bodied stroke.

  I love how her eyes flutter shut as she lifts her hips to meet me several strokes later, sucking me in all the way to the base of my cock.

  For such a small woman, it’s a miracle how well she takes me.

  It’s like we were built to fuck, crafted for passion, meant to be tormented with a decade apart so this—fucking this—would be that much more rewarding.

  Hell, I make sure we’re both rewarded plenty as my speed picks up, slamming myself into her, grinding my pubic bone down hard on her clit.

  I thought I’d be the one in trouble trying to last, but Tory loses her mind in a matter of minutes, riding my fullness with these mad, desperate jerks of her body.

  She practically climbs me as I fuck her deeper, faster, harder.

  We’re a mess of tangled limbs, moving as one, and the magic words hurl her straight over the edge the second they’re torn out of my mouth.

  “Come like you mean it, Peach,” I snarl, sending her eyes to nirvana as they waver shut with one last glimpse of my crazy sex gaze.

  Fuck.

  She nearly rips an orgasm right from my balls when her pussy hugs me so tight, constricting, her release rocking every bit of me.

  Somehow, I’m still thrusting, powering straight through her release, hammering her with pleasure like a storm churns the sea.

  Call it what you will.

  Embellished, over the top, outrageous, even a little violent.

  Whatever.

  It’s exactly how Tory Three Names makes me that much more addicted, that much more driven to own every bit of her.

  She barely gets a minute to catch her breath before I’m flipping her over, finding my place.

  I mount her from behind when she’s on her knees, feeding inch after raging inch in, kissing the back of her neck, then stopping with my lips near her ear.

  “Hands above your head. Grab the pillows if you need to. Keep your ass up,” I whisper darkly. “Tonight’s the night I make you forget every man you’ve ever fucked.”

  I can’t help it.

  It’s jealous as hell and maybe a little psycho, but truly?

  There’s exactly one fucking snail I want to erase from her brain, her body, her soul.

  And if I can grind him out of her by bringing her off so hard she can’t remember her own name, Lord knows I’ll try.

  She’s made me a Tory-crazed monster.

  Still, judging by the way she gasps and how her walls milk my cock, it seems I ain’t the only one interested in making that happen.

  She’s fucking me as much as I am her now, and it’s devastating.

  A high unlike anything I’ve ever known whips through my brain. I clamp my jaw tight, wanting to drag this out as long as possible.

  With long, languid strokes, I make sure my balls slap her swollen clit.

  She moans real sweet for me a little while later, flinging her ass back into my abs, her fingernails tangled in the pillows over her head as she arches. Screams. Comes un-fucking-done.

  Shit!

  I don’t know what comes over me when my hand flies out and crashes across her ass cheek. But it makes her come instantly, so I drive on harder, losing myself in her climax.

  “Coming with you, Peach. Hold the fuck on.”

  And I do.

  An electric current blasts up my spine as I get in a few last angry thrusts, then piston down against her ass, burying myself balls deep a split second ahead of the torrent that rends me in two.

  Holy fuck.

  I’m barely human when I come inside her, my spine bent and my head back, hurling every last fiery drop in her depths.

  I’ve reverted back to some savage, primal thing.

  A beast absolutely crazed to plant his seed hot and hard and deep, and brand this girl from the inside out.

  Forget control.

  It ain’t just Peach losing herself in complete surrender and unconditional rapture, forgetting what she is as she squeals, her pleasure heightened by my flood.

  I’m the one who forgets my own name.

  Every last shitty, stubborn, unbreakable mountain between us comes crashing down as I empty my balls, snarling out her name, filling her with a passion and a roar that’d scare a lion.

  My fingers are pale, digging into her cheeks, fusing us together.

  Everything drops away except for us and how fucking good we feel locked in bliss.

  Spent, I release the death-grip on her ass and brace my weight on my arms so I won’t crush her as I relax, hovering over her body gently, brushing my lips across hers as she turns her head.

  “Now I know,” she whispers, still trying to catch her breath.

  “Know what?”

  “What the big deal over sex is.” Closing her eyes, she flops down deeper into the mattress. “With you, it’s like nothing on Earth.”

  Just when I think she couldn’t make me smile any harder...

  Well, hell, she’s right.

  What I just experienced with her was like nothing I’ve ever had in my life.

  Talk about worrisome.

  Now that we’ve unleashed a passion a whole decade in the making, nothing else will ever compare.

  Now that we’re more than just friends—happy lovers—there’s no way I can ever stop it from taking over everything we thought we knew.

  I wake up to the sun painting the sky rosy pink.

  Still sound asleep, Tory pulls the sheet over her naked body tighter, wrapped up next to me.

  Let her rest.

  It’s amazing I’m even awake, considering I’d never gone so many consecutive rounds as we’d had last night.

  Six times.

  That’s how often I let that little minx ruin me with the hottest, ball-busting nuts of my life. If you asked me to remember how many times I sent her over the ledge, I couldn’t tell you to save my life.

  It’s even more incredible I want her again.

  Fuck.

  I’m officially out of my depth when it comes to this woman.

  Needing to prove that I still have a faint shred of self-control, I eas
e off the bed and quietly walk to the bathroom. Thinking she’s so tired she won’t hear, I step into the shower and turn on the water.

  The cold spray helps wash away a little of the black magic spell she’s got on me.

  At least I feel human again, and not like a frigging wolf in mating season.

  Yeah. I’m gonna have to set some boundaries.

  We want each other, we want to enjoy each other, fine.

  It just can’t go anywhere further right now. Beyond sex.

  My past and present won’t allow it. Not till my dire situation clears up.

  Bat Pickett thinks I killed his brother.

  I hadn’t, but I’d wanted to.

  Justin Franklin, a great agent, never should’ve went down the way he did—especially not in that godforsaken bust.

  He ought to be alive and happy, making love to his woman and watching his kids grow up. He had a wife and two sons. Boys who’ll never know their father. And the only reason he died is because he was by my side, trying to put one more devil behind bars.

  It doesn’t help that Jake died like the savage he was, drowned by a pack of fellow demons.

  I shove my head under the spray of water, trying to wash away the images that crash through my head like a bad movie I had to live.

  Jake Pickett leering over me, back at the interrogation in the OKC, looking like he wanted to reach across the table with those freakishly huge fingers and snap my fucking neck.

  If only he’d fucking tried.

  The call from his girl, Janie, hearing how scared she was, how she knew she shouldn’t even be talking to us, but she didn’t have another choice.

  I promised we’d keep her safe.

  A promise I’d damn well broken even when I gave it my best.

  Justin smiling as he climbed in his car, telling me he couldn’t rest easy till we had Pickett’s girlfriend in witness protection. He knew as well as I did that her flipping on her rat-fuck of a boyfriend would give us an express ticket to lock up Jake and take apart his grimy little laundromat distribution system.

  It ain’t fair, goddammit.

  There was no justice.

  And now, thanks to some shady insider, Jake’s equally wicked little brother is gonna walk out into the broad daylight and come up here.

  For me and everybody else I’ve been stupid enough to reel into my web of a life.

  Tory deserves better, and so does Dallas. They deserve to—

  Something touches my shoulder.

  My eyes fly open and I whip around.

  My heart skips a beat at the sight of a smile like sunshine and blue eyes as naked as the rest of her, promising a damn good morning.

  “I missed you when I woke up.” Tory steps closer, lays her hands on my chest, and stretches on her toes. “Knew you hadn’t gone too far. Good morning, Quinn,” she says, laying her lips on mine.

  That’s all it takes before I have her against the wall, pulling at her bottom lip with my teeth, pushing one hand between her legs.

  I think it’s the longest shower of my life, but I’m not complaining one bit.

  Roughly an hour passes before we’re on our way to the Neuman place, and for the life of me, all I can think about is the killer fuckery in the shower we just shared.

  She’d gone down on her knees like she sensed my tension, locking those luscious lips around my dick in a soft pink ring, launching me to heaven.

  Just thinking about her mouth so full of me turns my brain on again.

  If we were anywhere else but the drive thru, waiting on our breakfast order before goat duty, I’d find a way to take her right here in this truck.

  My stomach growls, pulling my thoughts to food and coffee, when Tory grabs my arm.

  “Quinn—that’s the truck! See it there? The red Chevy.”

  Every part of my body snaps to attention.

  A red truck as bright as a fire engine turns onto Main Street, heading for the highway.

  And we’re boxed in, waiting for a good-sized order because I let my gut do the talking.

  Fuck.

  There’s a car ahead of us and one behind us, besides the building on my side and the tall concrete barrier on hers. My teeth clench.

  There’s no way for me to make a clean exit to give chase.

  Not the worst thing, honestly.

  Going after a potentially dangerous piece of scum with Tory along isn’t smart. It’s not safe, either, meaning I couldn’t go flying with that vehicle even if I had a clean shot.

  “Keep an eye on it,” I tell her, even as I watch the Chevy turn and start barreling down the highway. It’s going north at a fast clip, the same direction we’ll be heading soon.

  The car ahead of me grinds forward, but then stops.

  The people in the car search their bags for a fucking century, obviously making sure they got the right food.

  A muscle in my eyeball twitches.

  Then it’s our turn to race up.

  “Here’s your order!” The smiley teenager in the window hands me an OJ and a steaming coffee.

  “Sorry, we’re in a hurry,” I mutter, getting grabby real fast.

  I barely avoid spilling as I mash the drinks in the truck’s holders, yank the bag from her hand, hold my breath while she swipes my card, and floor it, almost ramming the car ahead of us.

  They finally pull forward a few more feet—giving me a well-deserved dirty look in the mirror—and I swerve around them.

  “Quinn, whoa.”

  “Sorry I’m driving like an asshole. We need a read on that truck—can you still see it?” I ask, jerking my head from side to side, searching.

  “It just pulled onto the highway...I lost sight of it then.” Tory sets the bag on the floor by her feet. “Maybe they do work for Neuman’s Dairy.”

  No. I checked that out right after it happened. No one at Neuman’s ever had anybody on payroll fitting that man’s description with a red Chevy truck.

  I take the highway turn sharply, laying my foot on the gas.

  Behind me, I hear Owl’s breathing sharpen. His big tongue flops out like he’s enjoying the action.

  With Tory in the truck, I won’t overtake the guy or do anything stupid, but I do need to know where he’s going.

  Even though we slept in a little, it’s still early, barely eight in the morning.

  He could be a local, even if he’s not a Neuman’s employee. An extra summer field hand going to work for some farmer or something.

  My gut disagrees, though, rumbling with this dark hint that tells me he’s here for one reason.

  He wants you dead, I think to myself. He wants to help Bat Pickett put you down like a mad dog.

  Holding our speed steady, I stay far enough behind the guy to keep an eye on him. We’re several lengths back, a comfortable distance to avoid raising his suspicion.

  “Is there anything down that road except for the lake?” Tory asks just as the red truck turns off the highway.

  “Not that I know of,” I answer. “It’s close to Drake and Bella’s property, the spare acreage they barely use, way the hell out. Except when Edison does his Houdini escape thing, I mean. I think there’s a couple other big old farms down that way.”

  She nods, then gives me a surprised look. “Hey, aren’t we going to follow him?”

  “Not today,” I bite off.

  “Why not?” She rubs a hand at her eyes, casting a dirty look. “Quinn, he had to slow down on that service road. You could catch him real easy.”

  Acting nonchalant, I stiffen in my seat. “We don’t know who or what the fuck he is. He could just work out here somewhere.”

  I can feel her confusion and taste my own sour lie, trying to quell her worries.

  Still, I keep staring at the road straight ahead as we roll past the gravel road the Chevy turned down.

  Once we get to the dairy, I’ll call Drake.

  With his place being close to the lake and being Sheriff Wallace’s right-hand man, he’ll know what, if anything, is
down that road.

  He’ll also know how best to get a better look if warranted.

  “Do you want your breakfast?” she asks.

  Owl belts out an enthusiastic woof!

  Trying to keep things as normal as possible, I smile in agreement.

  “Sure, we might as well eat before we see the goats,” I say.

  She passes out the food to me and Owl, who’s anxiously waiting with his head stuck between the seats. I devour my breakfast burritos, deep in thought.

  Food’s food, even when it sits more heavily than usual in my stomach.

  When we roll up to the dairy farm, it’s eerily pleasant. Sunshine galore, the cows grazing in the distance, and a few workers milling around the far-off barns. Makes it feel like an idyllic trip with my girl in the countryside.

  Easy to forget the shitty reminder of what I’m really dealing with.

  No sooner are we out of the truck than I’m awed by the size of the Neuman place yet again. The critters are making steady progress, but they’ve got a heap of chewing left to go before the wild acreage is anything close to clear.

  Though the goats have wiped out a lot of brush, there are still several large overgrown thickets that make it impossible to see them all at once.

  Tory and I separate to make a head count, her taking Owl.

  While I’m walking toward a clump of bushes, I take out my phone and wake the screen. I hadn’t checked it last night or real closely this morning, seeing how we were happily occupied.

  Now I see the alert from the app rigged up to the cameras.

  Shit.

  I curse myself for slacking off when I see a notice that the camera named Granny’s went dead and stopped recording at five thirty this morning.

  Those things are built to withstand World War Three, at least when it’s not winter. Nothing short of a person with tools snipping the right wire could’ve disabled them at Granny’s empty place.

  It could be a glitch with the app, or maybe one of the remodeling crew accidentally shut ’em off, though I know the probability of that is next to nil.

  Jaw clenched, I tap my Contacts, find Drake’s name, and hit Call.

  He answers on the first ring.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?” I ask, aware of the time.