Wicked

by M. Malone

  I tried to pull back slightly so she wouldn’t feel the erection that was steadily growing. She’d just seen the grossest thing imaginable, so I figured the last thing she’d want would be to come into contact with dick of any kind. But when I tried to step back, her arms tightened and she pressed her face against my shirt.

  “You’re such a good friend!” she wailed. Since her face was turned into my chest, it came out muffled, sounding more like “Yooof such a goob fiend!”

  I sighed. “Okay, this is not going to work. Come on, baby girl.” I led her to the door, walking sideways half the time since she didn’t want to let go of my waist. By the time we made it through the crowd and got to the cab waiting at the curb, Bailey was barely walking on her own and her hands had decided to take a walking tour of my body. I managed to get her in the cab, ignoring the skeptical look of the driver.

  “Man, is she okay? She’d better not throw up in my cab.”

  I shot the guy a look. “Drive fast then.” I gave him Bailey’s address and then jumped when I felt her hand in my lap.

  I gritted my teeth as I tried to peel her fingers off my thigh.

  This was typical luck for me. The girl who’d never been interested in me before was handsy when she was drunk.

  Typical luck.

  4

  Bailey

  Once Hunter had me back home, I had an even more difficult time keeping my hands to myself. Now wait just a minute. Hunter had all this going on? I slid my hands over his pecs and abs, silently counting the muscles. Well, well. Hunter had been holding out on me.

  Okay, I wasn’t an idiot: he was clearly cute. Smoking hot, from a truly objective standpoint. He had dark brown hair that I was pretty sure he styled into messy disarray. His moss green eyes were kind and intelligent, but also really expressive. I could always tell his mood by his eyes. When I’d started at Bold Horizons, a year ago, my focus had been on my future. What I did here would also get me into the MBA program.

  So I’d worked hard to put thoughts of the super nice, super hot young executive out of my mind. Well, except when I was in bed, alone, with a vibrator guaranteed to make me scream.

  I didn’t have the best luck with guys, and I wasn't looking to make a mistake where I worked. I always chose wrong. And when it came down to it, Hunter had turned out to be a really good friend. When stuff at school was hard, I could escape into our friendship. During the school year, I commuted from campus, but since it was summer, the company had found me this corporate apartment as part of the internship program.

  And now, I was here…with Hunter…and he felt so good. No, seriously, why hadn't I jumped his bones before? Because you know how you are. Once you get close, you panic and you run.

  I knew this line of thought was entirely due to the copious amount of alcohol I’d imbibed. But there was a part of me that wanted to do this. This was Hunter. He was my friend. He was so sweet. Exactly the kind of guy that every girl should want to be with.

  He took care of me, and did all the gentlemanly things you only read about in books. Even though we were just friends, every time he dropped me off at my apartment, he made it a point to walk me to the door and make sure I got in okay.

  If he invited me somewhere, he insisted on paying. It all evened out in the end because I’d often bought the beers, but it was more than that. He listened. And whenever he had a girlfriend issue, he talked about each girl with respect. I’d never let myself admit it before, but I was always a little bit jealous.

  Not because of the girls per se, because I wasn't looking for that from Hunter. Are you sure about that? But because of the kind of guy he was. I wanted someone like that for myself, eventually. You know, after I graduated and had my career on track. Then it would be time to find someone who wouldn’t hurt me.

  Except with Hunter tonight, with him holding me, I wanted him to help me forget. Forget what I’d seen and heard. Ugh. Please God, I really needed to forget what I’d heard.

  And the more I touched Hunter, the more my brain focused on the tingling low in my belly than it did on the horrors I’d seen before I left the office.

  "Hunter, how come you’ve never asked me out before?"

  I could hear the question coming out of my mouth. It was like my brain wasn't in control. At least not the rational part of my brain, the part that would remind me that this was Hunter. He was my friend, and not some guy that I could just anonymously sleep with and walk away from.

  Hunter cleared his throat. "Well, Bay, because we’re friends. And you've always made it pretty clear that you aren’t looking to date."

  "And what if I’ve changed my mind?" I leaned into him. "What if I think I was being an idiot? What if I want you to ask me out?"

  I lifted my gaze to his, and his pupils dilated as his eyes dropped to my lips for a moment.

  Yes. The idea of Hunter kissing me made my clit throb. I pressed closer. God, he smelled amazing. And to think about him wrapping his arms around me as he kissed me and touched me and…okay, yeah, this Hunter thing, it seemed like a pretty good idea.

  I stood on tiptoes, looping my arms around his neck. "You’re my best friend. You take such good care of me. I especially need that right now. You want to take care of what I need, Hunter?"

  My breasts pressed into his chest and my nipples hardened. Just being close to him and rubbing up against him lit my body on fire.

  Oh, God, yes.

  I licked my bottom lip, before pressing my mouth to his. For a moment, his hands tightened on my hips and he groaned low. The jolt of lust ran straight from my nipples down between my thighs.

  But then something was wrong. Instead of pulling me closer so I could feel the length of him pulsing against my belly, he was pushing me...away.

  "Hunter?"

  He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. "Bailey. Let’s get you into bed. Pull out your pajamas or whatever and get changed. We can talk about this later. When you're sober. Because when you're sober, I am so down for having this conversation. But not now when you’re trashed. Come on, off to bed."

  I let him lead me down the hall to the bedroom, even as I muttered, "I like the idea of off to bed."

  He chuckled low. "Bailey. Stop. I don't want you to regret anything that you say tomorrow." With an efficiency that showed he’d done this before, he unzipped my pencil skirt and then turned his back while simultaneously handing me a pair of leggings. “Put these on."

  I took them from him, but then I swayed. My stomach roiled, and suddenly I didn't feel so good. "Hunter? I feel a little sick."

  He whirled back around and studied me, his eyes intense. "Okay, off to the bathroom."

  He carried me. Had I been sober, I would've known enough to be embarrassed. Right now, I didn't really care. When he set my feet down on the cool tile in my bathroom, I swayed again.

  Hunter’s hands eased into my hair, and he gently pulled the strands back off my shoulders.

  Even as he tucked my hair behind my ears, my stomach screamed at me as if to say, Bitch, next time don't have three shots of vodka. Because why?

  I meant to kneel down to the toilet, but I misjudged the distance. So when my stomach finally give up the fight, cramping and trying to eject everything I’d imbibed, I partially got the sink, but mostly I got Hunter.

  Could this get any worse?

  Hunter

  Fuck me.

  No, seriously, I really wished she would fuck me.

  I looked up at the ceiling and inhaled deeply three times. Ever since Bailey Jones had shown up at Bold Horizons, I’d had a perpetual state of blue balls. And I was certainly going to need balls of steel to deal with this situation.

  How is this even happening?

  First of all, Bailey thought I was hot? From the get-go, she’d made it a point to ignore any flirting from anyone in the office. When I hadn't immediately come on to her, she’d seemed relieved, and actually become my friend.

  I hadn’t meant for things to work out quite that well. Yes,
of course I wanted to get to know her, but I’d been trying to give her space before asking her out.

  It was a new tactic for me. Normally, I had zero problems with women. I looked at them, they knew I wanted them, they smiled back, and usually approached him. Or at least, when I approached, there was no hesitation, no question. Everybody was there for the party.

  But with Bailey, things were different. For starters, I worked with her, and I knew better than to shit where I ate. Even if some of the girls there were beautiful, it wasn’t worth the hassle.

  Secondly, I liked her. She was smart, funny, and had this way of putting me completely at ease. She didn't take herself too seriously. It didn't matter how shitty my day was; the moment she smiled, or laughed, or started telling me some ridiculous story, I immediately relaxed. If anything went wrong in my life, Bailey was my first call. Somehow, the girl I’d been trying to sleep with had become my best friend. I had it bad.

  Someone was coming for my player card any moment now.

  Deal with the problem at hand. Right now, Bailey was trashed. Completely and totally obliterated. Oh, and she’d thrown up all over me, so there was that. A shower was needed for both of us. How the hell was I going to manage this?

  I gritted my teeth. "Bay, we need to get in the shower."

  She sloppily grinned up at me. "Now you're talking."

  Oh hell. The things she was saying. If I didn't know better, I’d think she wanted me. But no, she was drunk. Bailey with all her sober senses would never say any of these things. Didn’t matter though, my dick was harder than iron.

  Apparently, even though I knew she didn't mean it, my dick hadn’t gotten with the program. I was here to be best-friend Hunter. Not I-want-to-fuck-you-in-the-shower-up-against-the-wall-until-you-scream-my-name Hunter. That Hunter was on hiatus. At least for Bailey, he was.

  Oh, I dated, but casually. Very casually. Because I usually found the women I went out with lacking within one or two dates. After all, they weren’t Bay. Dammit, I had a real problem.

  My dick twitched as if to say, Damn straight, you do.

  I sighed. "Bay, you’re going to finish getting undressed. Can you cooperate with me while we get this done?"

  She nodded at me and gave me a happy smile. God, that smile. Sometimes it was the most perfect thing about my day.

  I shed my clothes, but left on my boxer briefs. Next came the rest of Bailey's clothing. I did the best I could without looking.

  Her stockings nearly did me in. She was wearing thigh highs with delicate lace at the top. I knew the memory of peeling those down her long legs would be forever imprinted in my spank bank.

  Once she tossed away her blouse, she stood there in the flimsiest pair of silk panties and some gravity-defying bra that only covered about half her breasts. She looked like she was going to spill out of it at any second, and it sure as shit didn't help that the damn thing was lacy and see-through.

  With a dry mouth I muttered, “Get in."

  She giggled. "I thought you were joining me."

  Fuck. I was joining her, but I needed a second to get my erection under control. I climbed in after her, and the water hit us both. She peeled off her bra and revealed the most perfect pair of tits I’d ever seen in my life. Milky skin. Rose-tipped nipples. Jesus H. Christ. My imagination offered all the things I could do with breasts like hers. Hold them, weigh them, play with them, lick them…fuck them.

  Shit, that was really not helping.

  I just needed to get this done and touch her as little as possible.

  I grabbed her sponge and handed it to her before squirting shower gel on it. "Start washing yourself."

  Bailey made a face. "I want you to wash me."

  Me too. But that wasn't going to happen.

  "Bay, follow directions. I’ll start with your hair.” I found her shampoo, some raspberry-scented organic something or other. As a stream of water hit my back, I let it hit the back of her hair so the water would drench it. And that was when I noticed. She’d removed her underwear, too.

  "Bay, what happened to your panties?"

  She glanced at me over her shoulder and winked. “Well, I was wet."

  I swallowed hard. "We’re in the shower. We’re both wet."

  She shook her head. "That's not what I meant."

  I. Was. So. Fucked.

  I shampooed her hair as quickly as I dared, lathering and making sure it was nice and clean. I stepped aside, letting the spray drench her hair, and helping her rinse it out. All the while she kept lazily rubbing soap over her body. Jesus Christ, I wanted to help so badly, but that was a slippery slope.

  Standing here, trying desperately to look at the ceiling while I knew she soaped her tits, tested the limits of even my control.

  Once her hair was rinsed out, I added the leave-in conditioner and gently worked it through her hair. She moaned, low and throaty, and my dick threatened to come without my fucking say so.

  I could do this. I was the good guy. The sexually charged Hunter—the one who was demanding in bed, and got what he needed—I wasn’t that Hunter when I was with her. Because I cared about her. I had to remember that.

  After I gently took the brush through her hair from the tips to the roots as she instructed, she turned to face me, and I pinned my gaze directly over her shoulder and to the other side of the wall.

  "Hunter, I just wanted to say thank you. Sorry I threw up."

  I shook my head. "Not your fault. You had a hell of a trauma tonight. And so you overdid it. No big deal. We've all been there."

  She pressed her body into mine and—what do you know?—my dick pulsed in my boxers. And then, ever so helpfully, Bailey rubbed her soapy tits on my chest. I let out a low groan that was part growl, and struggled with the reins of my control. But it wasn't until she wrapped her delicate hand around my boxer-clad cock that I lost it.

  "Bailey, stop. One day soon, we’re going to redo this whole scene. When that happens, I will have you turn that hot little ass around, plant your hands on the wall, and then I will bury my dick inside you. But right now is not that time."

  She pouted, but she didn't release me. "But why not? You obviously want me."

  “And you are obviously trying to get a spanking."

  Her eyes fired wide, but her pupils also dilated. Well, well. It looked like Bailey was totally down for a spanking. Why did that make me want to give her one even more? Lucky for me, she wasn't too keen on listening. She shimmied and pressed her tits into me farther.

  "Bailey. Last warning. You need to quit or you will feel my handprint on your ass."

  "Hunter. I think I like this dominance in you." She kissed my chin and added a little slip of her tongue as a way to torment me.

  I didn't mean to do it, but I couldn't help myself. I firmly set her away from me, turned her around and placed her hands on the opposing wall. Leaning over her back, my dick tented my boxers and pressed into the soft flesh of her ass.

  When I whispered, my voice was low, "I warned you. Enough is enough.” The crack of my palm over her ass surprised us both. She gasped, but then moaned low. The tingling started at the base of my spine.

  No. No. No. I was not going to fucking come right now. Not okay. But I was walking away with one piece of knowledge tonight. Bailey Jones liked dominant Hunter. And I was done being a nice guy.

  I took the little sponge and scrubbed myself off in seconds while I kept her in that position. I quickly washed down her back and legs, but at that point, my movements were perfunctory. In seconds, I had us both out of the shower. I wrapped us both in towels and left her briefly to go toss our clothes in the dryer.

  When we had both toweled off, I marched her into the bedroom, and handed her a ratty T-shirt from her bottom drawer. I dragged it over her head before pulling back the covers and waiting for her to get in.

  "Are you joining me?"

  I shook my head even as my cock made an attempt to escape the towel slung around my hips. "No. But don't worry, Bay, we’re going
to do this again real soon. And next time, I'm going to enjoy making your ass red. I promise I’ll make sure to kiss it all better." I ignored her soft gasp and left her in the bedroom while I headed to the living room to watch TV and wait for my clothes to dry.

  Once I was dressed again, I let myself out of her apartment. One good thing had come from tonight: now I knew exactly how to handle Bailey Jones.

  5

  Bailey

  When I woke up the next morning, it was with the distinct sense that I should be mortified. My head was cloudy and my mouth tasted like old laundry, which was a dead giveaway. I’d had way too much to drink last night.

  Then I had a flashback of grabbing Hunter’s dick in the shower. Oh, God.

  I sat up slowly, moaning as my stomach rebelled against the motion. What time was it? The memories from the prior day started coming back, and my shoulders sagged when I remembered that it was a Saturday. How could I have forgotten? I’d been pissed to be at the office late on a Friday, and that was how the whole thing had started. I grimaced as I remembered why I’d run out of the office like a hound of death was on my heels.

  I’d seen Mr. Dent and his extremely small, ahem, dent. Then I’d taken my clusterfuck of a day and doubled down by getting drunk and climbing all over my best friend. He’d been so nice about it, too. Didn’t that make it all the worse? I’d basically sexually assaulted the poor man, and he’d just put me to bed like a naughty child.

  Grateful that the horrible mini-Dent incident had at least taken place on a Friday, I got out of bed and struggled through a shower. There was a load of things I needed to do around the house. I could keep myself busy by catching up on my to-do list and not even think about the massive cringe-fest that was waiting for me Monday morning. I couldn’t afford to lose this internship. I needed the college credit and the recommendation if I’d have any chance of getting a job after graduation and making it into a good MBA program.