CLAM JAM

by RC Boldt

  Her fingers part slightly, her eyes peeking through at me. “You think he’s …?”

  I give a small shrug as an answer, my hand reaching up, giving a brief tug at my left earlobe. “The thing is I haven’t been with anyone else, Mags.” Because I’m in love with you. “We can … help each other out.”

  “Ry, I don’t know.” But I hear it in her tone. She’s considering it.

  Which is why I play dirty. Because I’ll do anything to have her. Because, while I realize she might not be ready just yet to hear me tell her how I feel, I certainly plan to show her how I feel.

  “What are you unsure about?” I lower my head, pressing my lips to her earlobe before darting the tip of my tongue out to trace the shell of her ear. When she inhales sharply, I know I’m on the right track. “Did you not like my tongue inside you?” My teeth tug gently on her earlobe. “Did you not like coming all over my tongue?”

  Her chest is rising and falling with heavy breaths now. Shifting to slide a hand to her hoodie, I watch her while my fingers pull the zipper down slowly before parting the fabric, displaying her already puckered nipples poking through the fabric of her tank top. With my gaze still locked on hers, my thumb grazes over the top of one nipple, watching her eyelids grow heavy with lust as her body arches of its own accord into my touch.

  When I dip my head to suck her nipple through the fabric, she gasps loudly, shamelessly pushing her breast into my mouth. Suddenly, her hands grip my shoulder, pushing me away.

  “Wait.” The urgency in her tone has me lifting up, concerned, and to be honest, more than crestfallen that she’s stopping me.

  “You have to tell him.” I have no idea what she’s talking about, and it must show on my face because she adds, “You have to tell Jack before we do this. I don’t feel right about it otherwise.”

  “O-kay,” I draw out the word before scrambling for my phone, uncaring that the old pair of athletic shorts I have on can’t do shit to conceal my massive boner. Grabbing my cell phone off the coffee table, I hurriedly type out a text to Jack.

  Hey. I’m about to sleep with Maggie. Just had to let you know.

  Surprisingly, Jack’s response comes back mere seconds later. He must be pulling another late work night and have his cell close by.

  Jack: Sounds hot. Thanks for letting me know.

  Instantly, I turn the phone to Maggie to let her read his response. Appearing slightly surprised by Jack’s apparent nonchalance at receiving that text, she gapes at me.

  “You’re just telling him in a text?” There’s a hint of disbelief in her tone. Then, in a quiet, more thoughtful murmur, I hear, “I guess that’s one of the many differences between men and women.”

  Turning to replace my phone on the coffee table, I’m more than ready to resume things, but before I set it down, the light blinks with another incoming text notification.

  Jack: Since we’re sharing, the only action I’ll be getting here is with the shit ton of work I’ve got going on. Oh, and I guess I should mention that you suck for throwing me over for a chick? And your penis was WAY too small for me.

  Yeah, he’s a comedian.

  Turning back to Maggie, I realize she’s regarding me carefully. Reaching for the bottom of my cotton T-shirt, I pull it up and over my head and discard it on the arm of the couch. The moment her eyes take in the sight of me, I feel the heat upon my skin, nearly scorching me. Sliding over her in the position I was in mere minutes ago, I gently slide up her tank top, grazing her smooth skin, baring her full breasts, her nipples dark and puckered as if begging for my mouth again. Cupping their weight in my hands, I drag the pads of my thumbs over the top of her nipples, loving the way her body arches into my touch. It’s like she’s silently begging for more.

  So, of course, I give her what she’s asking for. Taking one of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, I tweak it, reveling in her gasp before grazing the other with my teeth then sucking on it with just the right amount of pressure.

  Her hands fly to my head, her fingers sifting through my hair, tightening as if trying to restrain me from moving away. As if there was a chance of that happening? Not in this lifetime.

  Between sucking, licking, and flicking her nipples with tongue, I murmur, “Are you getting wet again for me?”

  Her laugh is short. “Again?” She lets out a tiny moan, her tone breathless. “I’m still so wet.”

  Trailing kisses downward, over her stomach and across her hipbones, I realize that this location is going to pose more of a difficulty if we continue here. Abruptly making an executive decision, I shift off her, sliding my arms beneath her.

  “What—” Her protest dies once she realizes where we’re headed as I rush down the hall and into my bedroom.

  Gently laying her back on my large bed, I realize the small lamp beside the bed is already lit, casting a glow upon her skin. Reaching to help rid her of her hoodie and tank top, I bask in the sight of her as soon as they’re discarded, and I swear that I get harder just looking at her.

  Hurriedly shoving down my shorts, my cock juts out, and the moment her eyes shift to it, I nearly blow my load then and there. The way her eyes darken, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip as she sits up, almost makes me come undone. When she shifts on her knees, coming closer to where I stand at the edge of the bed, I nearly swallow my tongue when she reaches out to wrap her hand around my cock.

  Watching her hand grip the shaft, sliding up and down slowly, I’m transfixed by the sight. When her thumb swipes the moisture at the tip, my entire body jerks, and my fists clench to refrain from taking her right then and there, like a rough caveman.

  “You’d better have a condom handy.” Her voice is low, breathy as she strokes me, her eyes darting up to meet mine.

  “Only one?” I can’t resist teasing her, and when she lets out a husky laugh, I can’t help but wonder if it will always be like this between us.

  “Don’t get cocky.”

  Moving swiftly, I reach out, sliding my hands into her hair. My fingers thread through it, tugging her face up to meet my kiss—and it’s fucking perfect. Our lips move against one another, our tongues sliding inside, darting at each other, tasting deep. When she doesn’t relinquish her hold on my cock during the kiss, I grow even harder.

  Breaking the kiss, she drags her lips across my cheek to my jawline and whispers, “I need you, Ry.”

  Pausing, I have to ask the question nagging at me. My hands frame her face, gazing into her beautiful eyes. “Mags.” My thumbs graze her cheekbones as I search her face. “Are you sure about this? You’ve been drinking.”

  When she leans into one palm before turning her head to press a kiss to the center, my heart feels like it’s about to beat right out of my chest. Facing me again, her eyes meet mine. “I trust you, Ry. I want this.”

  How is it possible to feel gutted and exhilarated simultaneously? Because that’s exactly how I feel right now. She trusts me. And I’ve been lying to her. But she wants me and—

  The hand grasping my cock begins to work me again and draws me from my inner turmoil. “You’d better hurry up and find that condom.” Releasing me, she settles back on the bed, and I watch as her hands glide over her body, slowly sliding over her hardened nipples before beginning their descent down over her stomach to—

  “Ry.” Her voice jerks me from my stupor, and I rummage through my nightstand for condoms, thanking Trojan that they make these suckers with a long expiration date since I haven’t been with anyone in quite a while.

  Anyone besides my hand, that is. But he doesn’t count.

  Ripping open the wrapper, I roll the condom over my length, glancing up to see Maggie’s eyes focused on me. If I thought I couldn’t get harder, I was wrong. I’m harder than I’ve ever been. More than that, though, I’m nervous as hell because so much is on the line.

  I have to show Maggie that I care for her—and not just as my roommate or a best friend. I have to show her that I love her.

&n
bsp; I have to show her that I’m the one who wants to be with her. Not just for tonight but … always.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Maggie

  I’m pretty sure I’m having an out-of-body experience. But I don’t want it to end because it’s so addictively surreal to watch Ry—my Ry—naked and hard, with his hand gripping his hard cock, watching me with a look full of such intense emotions.

  My hands are touching my own body, stoking the fire he started out there on the couch. His eyes darken, heavy-lidded with lust as he watches me; my fingers begin circling my clit, turning me on even more.

  Easing himself over the top of me, I can’t withhold a gasp the moment he lowers himself, his bare chest brushing against my breasts, his hard length prodding between my legs as I bring my knees up, my feet flat on the bed.

  “Fuck, Mags,” he breathes against my neck between kisses and tiny nips. “I’m trying to take this slow and make it good for you, but you’re killing me.”

  There’s no way to stifle my grin at his words because the knowledge that he’s as turned on as I am sends gratification running through me. Gliding my hands down his back, I trace the curves and indentation of his muscles beneath my fingers, and when I reach his firm ass, I can’t resist grabbing it and pulling him closer toward me. Feeling the tip of him prodding my entrance, I tug his ass closer.

  “Trying to rush me, Mags?” he teases, his hot breath washing over my skin as he trails kisses along my collarbone.

  “Yes.” I have zero shame right now.

  Propping up on his arms to look into my eyes, I feel like he’s trying to tell me something; the softness in his eyes makes something in my chest tighten. His lips form a smile that’s tender with a hint of playfulness, and when he dips his head to brush his lips against mine, the kiss sweet and soft, I can’t resist sliding my tongue inside his mouth to deepen the kiss. The instant I do, his groan encourages me, and I tilt my head, sliding my tongue against his while my hands tug his ass toward me. The tip of his cock slides in only an infinitesimal amount, but it’s enough to have us both gasping.

  Rocking my hips, trying to encourage him, I break the kiss to toy with his lower lip, my teeth nipping at it before I suck at it, my tongue darting to it soothingly.

  “Please, Ry,” I whisper, my eyes locked with his. “Please.”

  He appears as though he’s trying to resist giving in, warring with himself, until I rock my hips again and he fastens his mouth to mine in a feverish, passionate kiss while simultaneously pushing inside me. Gasping into his mouth, my fingers dig into the muscles of his glutes as I embrace the way his cock is stretching me, the way my body’s working to adjust to his size.

  He breaks the kiss, pausing his movements with a look of concern on his handsome face. “Am I hurting you?”

  “No,” I say in a ragged breath. “It’s just been a long time.” Reaching a hand up to his face, I whisper, “Don’t stop.”

  When he pushes all the way inside me, my eyes fall closed, lips parting at the way he feels inside me. It’s indescribable. But I know he’s holding back. Opening my eyes to peer up at him, his jaw is clenched tight, his face a mask of concentrated restraint.

  My hands move, placing my palms against his chest, my lips twisting in a slight grin. “It’s my turn to be on top.”

  He stills, obviously faltering for a response before saying, “I don’t think—”

  “I didn’t ask.” My palms press against his firm pectorals. “I’m telling you.”

  Something shifts in his gaze, and in one fluid motion, he turns us over on the bed, with him beneath me. As soon as I shift my body, I feel it—feel him slide deeper inside me, feel the difference in this position. His hands move, one gripping my hips while the other tucks my hair back behind my ear. The tenderness in his gesture combined with the way he’s watching me sends a shiver of awareness—and something else—through me.

  Bracing my palms against his chest, I lean in closer, bringing my lips barely a hairsbreadth away from his to whisper, “What are we doing?”

  It feels as though his eyes are staring right through me, so intense with emotion and heat. Just when I think he’s going to answer, his hand cups the back of my head and his lips latch onto mine. Our mouths meld, tongues sparring. His other hand is gripping my hip as he gives a strong thrust upward into me, eliciting a loud gasp from me before I begin to work myself over him in a rocking motion, my clit rubbing against his pelvis.

  An inner voice whispers in the back of my mind, “What are we doing?”, while the other part of me is left to wonder about that intense emotion I saw in the depths of his gaze.

  Ry’s hand at the back of my head shifts, and his fingers tighten in my hair, slanting his lips over mine as he devours me. His taste is addictive, and I’m growing increasingly wet from both his kiss and his cock pushing me closer to another orgasm.

  The moment his hand moves to grip my other hip is when everything changes. With his stronghold, he pulls me down on his cock while simultaneously giving a deep upward thrust into me. It nearly sends my eyes rolling back in my head; it feels so good, hitting that spot, sending shivers through my body.

  “Ry,” I breathe.

  He does it again, his cock hitting deep, hard; his heavy-lidded gaze locked onto mine. “You’re so beautiful, Mags.”

  The way he says it—in a low, husky whisper—makes it feel like the air just got sucked out of the room. Before I can react, he slides his thumb between our bodies to press against my clit. With just the right amount of pressure, his fingers begin to move in circles.

  Arching, I ride his cock while he toys with my clit. The sight of his large hand transfixes my eyes; his thumb toys with me while I watch his thick cock disappear in and out of me. Giving myself over to the pleasure he’s giving me, I let my eyes fall closed as I continue to work myself over him.

  “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Feel how good we are together.” He inhales sharply when I rock against him, shifting just so. “God, Mags. I’m so fucking close … but I don’t want to come without you.”

  Quickening my pace, nearly frantic now, his words spur me on as I slide up and down his cock, watching as his lips part, his breathing harsh and ragged. Bracing my palms more firmly on his chest, my eyes again draw to where our bodies are joined, at the sight of his thumb circling my clit.

  “Looks so fucking hot,” Ry groans, and when I glance up, I see that his eyes are focused on the sight, too. As if knowing how close I am, his thumb and forefinger pluck at my clit, and that’s all that it takes. My eyes fall closed as I clench around his cock, my body arching as I ride out my release. Ry’s thrusts turn frantic, pushing deep and hard before letting out a low groan. When I finally collapse on him, my cheek against his heaving chest, we lie there in silence with nothing but the sound of our labored breathing.

  I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before. Weird that Ry would be something of a clitoris guru, right? Especially since he’s—

  It hits me. Oh, no, no, nooooo. What did I just do?

  I just had sex with my roommate, my best friend, my … Ry. And if that’s not bad enough, there’s more.

  I really liked it.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Ry

  Holy shit.

  In all of my imaginings of what it would be like to be with Maggie, none of it could have come even close to this. And now that I know what it’s like, there’s no way in hell I can go back to one-on-one time with my palm.

  Fuck no.

  Which means I have to ensure that she’ll be up for doing this again and again.

  Wait. Fuck! What the hell? I have to get my shit together here. The whole point of this wasn’t just to get into Maggie’s panties—or lack thereof—tonight. Not that it wasn’t hotter than the surface of the sun. It was. And the way she clenched so goddamn tight all around my cock when she came … Fuck.

  The point is, though, that I’m trying to get her to see me as more. As the guy who loves her. As the
guy who really hopes to hell that she’ll be able to forgive me for not being gay.

  Jesus. Just thinking that makes me sound like an idiot.

  I swear there was a moment there when she could see it in my eyes—that she saw the love in my eyes. Maybe she’s not quite ready for it, but I plan to remind her of it.

  As our ragged breathing begins to slow, as my hand caresses the soft curve of her back, I feel it. The stiffening of her spine—the indication that her brain has kick started into panic mode. And that’s exactly what I don’t want.

  “Hey.” My tone is gentle, and I press a soft kiss to the top of her hair. “Talk to me.”

  She shakes her head against my chest. “I can’t.”

  “You can talk to me about anyth—”

  Abruptly, her head lifts off my chest, her eyes searching mine, worry lining her features. “Ry,” she swallows hard, “I don’t want to mess things up.” Her gaze drops, focusing on my chest, as if embarrassed. “What does this mean?”

  What does this mean? Everything, Mags. Everything.

  Gently steering her chin up with my fingers, willing her eyes to meet mine, I offer her a small smile. “There’s no way you’re going to mess anything up.”

  Her eyes flicker over my face as if trying to gauge the truthfulness of my statement before whispering, “Promise?”

  “I promise,” I whisper back, my thumb grazing over her bottom lip. “I love you, Mags. Nothing could ever change that.”

  She’s silent for a beat before her breath comes out in a whoosh. With a tiny but seemingly relieved smile, she lays her head back down on my chest. “I love you, too.”

  While those words are the ones I want desperately to hear her say, there’s a problem. Because right now, she’s saying them with “as a friend” silently tacked onto the end. And it’s my job to ensure that changes. To ensure that someday—hopefully soon—she can say those words back to me and mean them the same way I do.

  She spills over me to land on the bed in a sprawl with a long exhale while I turn to dispose of the condom in the nearby wastebasket. Rolling onto my back and turning my head to face her, I reach out to slide some stray hair back from her face. While Maggie isn’t considered show-stoppingly gorgeous by society’s standards, she is to me. Sure, her nose isn’t perfectly narrow, and her hair can sometimes be a crazy mop of curls, but she’s one of those people whose personality shines through like a blasting beam of light.