by Rye Hart
“I dunno, does it look like a yes?” I asked, batting my eyelashes and swiping my lips against his – a chaste little peck that was just a quick tease.
“Looks can be deceiving,” he said. “And I want to make sure there's no confusion, Abigail. None whatsoever.”
“Then yes, I agree to your terms, Harry,” I purred.
Before I could say anything more, Harry kissed me, long and hard. His tongue pushed into my mouth and danced with mine, as his fingers worked through my hair. He pulled me over onto his lap so that I was straddling him. He pressed me down onto him, letting me feel his erection pressing against my panties. I ground myself down on him, savoring the feel of his cock pushing against me.
My skirt had slid up to my hips, and Harry's hands were on my bare ass. Things were moving fast, but I couldn't complain. I ground myself down onto him, moaning as I felt his hard, thick cock, knowing that soon, I was going to have him inside of me.
It had been so long since I'd had a man inside of me. Way too long. My body ached with desire as I worked to remove his shirt, clumsily unbuttoning it as he slipped my dress up and off over my head. There I was in my black, lacy bra and thong, and a gorgeous man was staring back at me with a look of pure need in his eyes.
Harry quickly removed his belt, then his pants, pulling them down just enough to expose his cock. While I couldn't see it from the position I was in, I felt him pushing up against me, his thick head rubbing against the thin material of my panties.
Groaning, I begged him, “Please, I need you inside of me.”
I slid my panties to the side and lowered myself onto his shaft. His hands clasped my hips as he entered me, sending a shockwave of pleasure through me as his body moved upward to meet mine, joining us together at last.
“Oh God, yes,” I muttered, burying my head into Harry's neck, my body shuddering against him.
It had been so long, I felt like I might climax just from the sensation of him entering me. I took a moment to just relish the feeling of his cock inside of me, clenching my muscles around him and causing him to groan in pleasure as I worked my pussy around his thick shaft.
“Damn,” he grunted. “You feel amazing.”
Rolling my hips, I slowly started riding his cock. Harry unlatched my bra and my breasts fell into his hands. While staring up at me, he took a nipple into his mouth, lightly sucking it as I continued moving up and down on top of him. As soon as his mouth touched my nipple though, it was like a lightning storm had erupted in my body. Intense electrical signals ran straight from my breast down to my pussy, causing me to gasp in delight.
He was so big and thick, filling me up completely, and he knew how to work his cock. Moving together, we worked in the perfect rhythm, and I fell into a blissful state of ecstasy. I felt like I was in heaven, floating amongst the clouds. No one had ever fucked me like that and I could tell Harry was enjoying it too.
His breath was becoming more and more ragged as my body became less stable. I now shuddered every time I lowered myself down upon his dick, an orgasm approaching fast. And when my climax hit me, it was like a train, crashing into me hard. I thrashed wildly on top of him, crying out and holding on for dear life as wave after wave of pleasure rushed over me.
“Oh God, yes!” I cried loudly as I came.
Harry thrust upward into me, as I stared into his eyes. Sweat dripped from his brow as he tried so hard not to lose control. With my pussy spasming around his cock, he lost it. With his brow furrowed, he let out one, long groan as he buried himself to the hilt, exploding deep inside of me.
Our bodies came together, and eventually, I collapsed on top of him, completely spent from one hell of an orgasm. Harry held me on his lap, both of us struggling to breathe.
I knew I needed to get cleaned up and leave. He wasn't the type of man who'd enjoy pillow talk and cuddling, I knew that much, but surprisingly, Harry didn't rush me out. In fact, he held me like that for a long time, both of us relaxing against the other. When I finally could stand up, I wobbled a bit and he caught me.
“Careful there,” he said with a laugh.
His dark hair was stuck to his face, and I knew I looked a mess too. But even still, the way Harry looked at me made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. And for a moment, I forgot about our little arrangement and thought he might be someone I could see myself with.
But then I remembered Shanna and our agreement, and the reality of it all came rushing back. And that crushing blow pulled me straight out of the fog of post-coital bliss I'd been wandering through and brought me back down to Earth.
I dug through his couch for my dress, “I should probably get going,” I said.
Harry grabbed my face and kissed me, making me nearly fall over in surprise. He looked at me and gave me that arrogant, roguish little grin.
“What's the rush?” he asked. “I have a bed and an alarm clock, you can stay here instead of running off so fast. If you'd like, of course.”
As nice as that sounded, I knew it would be a bad idea. A very bad idea. I couldn't allow myself to get attached. I couldn't afford to invest in him emotionally whatsoever.
“Thank you, Harry,” I said. “For everything, I mean. But I really should get going.”
His face dropped, and I would have sworn that he seemed disappointed. The very man who made sure to stipulate this was only about the sex in exchange for having a fake relationship, actually wanted me to spend the night. The two things didn't seem to mix and I wasn't sure what to make of it all.
All I knew was that I needed to get out of there.
“I understand, Abigail,” he said, handing me the dress that had somehow gotten wedged behind him. “But I really do hope to see you again soon.”
“You will,” I said quickly.
I knew without a doubt that I wanted to see him again, but I also knew how dangerous he could be.
I had to proceed with extreme caution.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HARRY
I stared at the flat screen in the corner, trying to watch the game but my head was spinning. Tom sat down beside me, a leggy brunette that looked a whole lot like Selena Gomez on one side and a redhead on the other – a shit-eating grin spread across his face.
“Meet Fiona and Rachel,” he said. “They're sisters.”
“Step-sisters,” the redhead corrected him, as if that mattered.
“Step-sisters, I mean,” Tom said. “Anyway, they just moved to LA from Indiana and were looking for a couple of guys to show them a good time.”
“I have to be to the hospital early tomorrow,” I said.
I knew Tom had brought the redhead along for me, after my comments the other night. I looked at her with an appreciative gaze. She was pretty, but she was no Abigail.
“Come on, man,” Tom said. “Is that anyway to treat two beautiful young women who are new to LA, looking to get out on the town?”
“You're free to go out with them,” I said, feigning a yawn. “I'd only get in the way. Seriously, you three go and have a great time.”
The redhead pursed her lips and pretended to pout as she leaned closer to me, making sure to give me a very clear view of her more than ample cleavage. It was difficult, but I moved my eyes back up to her face, and upon further review, decided that nope, she was not a true redhead. Her brown roots were showing.
Not that it mattered because I wasn't interested to begin with.
“It's a package deal, bro,” Tom said. “There are two girls, they need two guys. It's math so simple even you can handle it.”
He was practically begging me with his eyes, and I felt like a shitty friend for wanting to bail. He needed my help to seal the deal. There had been a lot of nights where Tom played my wingman when I was looking to hook up with a beautiful woman. And I felt even shittier because I knew the brunette was right up Tom's alley. His dream girl.
And I bet he thought he'd stumbled his way into an amazing bit of fortune by finding not only his dream girl, but
the perfect match for me.
Little did he know that my standards were much higher than they used to be. But then, as I looked at the near desperation in his eyes, I felt like an asshole for even considering bailing on him, given all the help he'd given me in sealing a deal over the years.
“Fine,” I said. “We can go out for a bit. Not too late, but maybe show them around some clubs,”
The redhead interjected, “We're not really clubbing girls,” she said. “I was thinking something a little more private.”
“Private?” I raised an eyebrow at Tom.
“Yeah, like your pool,” Tom said with a grin. “That kind of private.”
“My pool, at my house?”
Tom laughed. “That's the only place I figure your pool would be.”
“You've already invited them over to my place?”
“Figured you'd be into it,” Tom said with a shrug.
Tom had a nice home in Beverly Hills, but his pool was being remodeled. Mine, however, was hardly used. I wasn't much of a swimmer.
The old me would have jumped at the chance to get into the water with an eager woman – but I wasn't feeling it. The night before, with Abigail, had been amazing and truthfully, I was hoping to have her come on over for a booty call when I got home. Tom and the stepsisters would put a definite kink in that plan.
“Come on, Harry,” Tom whined.
The redhead looked at me with her big, brown eyes, “Yes, come on, Harry,” she purred. “Pretty please with sugar on top?”
It wasn't the woman's begging that made me cave. It was Tom's. He was my best friend, and I knew he was into the other girl. I told myself that just because I had them over didn't mean I had to fuck her. I could get together with Abigail another night. It was the least I could do for my friend – play his wingman at least one more time.
So fine, I'd take one for the team. “Alright,” I said. “Let's head over to my place.”
ooo000ooo
The redhead – whom I discovered was actually Fiona and not Rachel – marveled at my house while her sister used my restroom. I knew a gold digger when I saw one, and Fiona and her sister were exactly the type who were attracted to wealth and nice things – as evidenced the by the way she looked over every little detail of my home. It was like she was calculating my net worth based on my belongings, and finding herself more interested in me by the minute.
“So, you're a doctor too?” she asked me.
“I am,” I said curtly.
“Very sexy,” she said, looking over at me with a seductive stare. “I've always had a thing for doctors.”
More like she's always had a thing for a doctor's money, I thought to myself. But I decided to keep my mouth shut. Tom and Rachel came down the steps, with Rachel giggling like an idiot.
“Who's ready to go for a swim?” Tom asked, grinning like a fool.
“Did you bring a suit?” I asked, looking at both girls.
They had tiny little purses, so I couldn't see how, but thought maybe I was missing something. Maybe they had a bag in Tom's car or something. Both the girls and Tom laughed at me, shaking their heads as we stepped out on my patio and into the warm, dry Southern California air.
“Silly,” Fiona said, still chuckling. “We don't need swimsuits.”
The last of her words weren't even out of her mouth yet when she wiggled out of her skinny jeans, leaving only her panties on. She looked over at Rachel who was also in the middle of getting undressed. They shared a look and a giggle before both girls dropped their panties and took their tops off.
I gazed in complete appreciation at their beauty. I had to admit, they had amazing bodies. Both of them were fit and trim. Fiona was thinner than Rachel, with a few less curves, but both of them could easily have been Playboy models with flat stomachs and perky, perfect tits.
“Come on, tell me we're not the only ones getting naked,” Rachel said, playfully punching Tom in the shoulder. “You guys need to drop your drawers too! It's only fair.”
“Yeah, we showed you ours,” Fiona chimed in. “Now show us yours.”
Scratching my head, I moved toward the door. “I'm going to need something to drink,” I muttered. “Anyone else?”
“A beer would be great,” Tom said.
“Anything works for me,” Rachel said.
“Same,” Fiona said.
“Alrighty then,” I muttered, going inside to get away from the craziness.
Once upon a time, I would have been the first without my clothing. I used to live for stuff like that. Two hot women, completely naked, wanting to have a little fun – but tonight, I really wasn't feeling it.
I had to keep reminding myself that I was doing this for Tom. This was his party, I was just there for moral support. It didn't mean I had to do a damn thing.
As I grabbed the beer and headed back outside, I heard a sound at my front door. I stopped, listened, and heard it again. Confused, thinking maybe somebody was trying to get in, I walked over and opened the door to find Abigail trying to slink away.
When the door opened, she stopped and turned, eyes wide, looking like she'd been caught in the act of doing something she shouldn’t.
“Abigail? What are you doing here?”
“Sorry, it was a bad idea,” she said, slurring her words, her eyes glassy – she'd been drinking. “I was in the area, and after last night, I thought--”
A smile spread across her face. An adorable, but naughty smile that nearly made me forget about the women on my patio. When she saw I wasn't angry, she pressed herself into me, kissing me long and hard, pushing me into the living room. She was working at my belt when a voice from behind us sent a jolt of adrenaline surging through me.
“Who the fuck is that?” Fiona screeched, her voice tight with anger.
Abigail stopped and looked, and I watched in what seemed like agonizingly slow motion, as everything went to shit.
“I'm Abigail, who are you?”
Abigail stared at Fiona, still naked in the middle of my living room.
“Fiona,” she said. “Harry, do you have a girlfriend?”
“No, no, I don't, I –”
“No, I'm just his fuck buddy,” Abigail said, her voice coming out angrier than I expected. “I mean nothing to him. I'm just the piece of ass he calls when he has an itch that needs to be scratched. I guess I should have waited for that call.”
“No, Abigail, it's fine,” I said, trying to diffuse the situation, and failing miserably.
“No, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “I should go. The cab might still be outside.”
I grabbed her arm, stopping her from going. “Please, let's talk about this.”
“What's there to talk about?” she said. “Listen, we're not together. We're just – well, we're just fucking. You're free to be with whoever you want. That was our deal, right? I just thought I'd stop by, and I shouldn't have. Not without calling first. No big deal.”
She was trying so hard not to get upset, and hell, I respected her for that. But for some reason, it hurt me to hear her say that she was nothing to me. All these years, that's all I wanted for the girls I slept with to understand – that we were just fucking and our connection didn't actually go any deeper than that. And yet, finally, there was a girl who got it and I wanted to tell her that no, she actually did mean a lot to me.
Because I had to face the facts – she did.
“What's going on?” Tom burst in, wearing nothing but his boxers with a naked Rachel by his side.
“Nothing. I was just leaving,” Abigail said.
She pulled her arm free and walked out the door, leaving me with my very confused, mostly naked houseguests.
“Is that the girl you were talking about the other day?” Tom asked me. “The redhead?”
“Yep, that's her,” I said and sighed, shaking my head.
“Damn. You're right,” Tom said. “She is hot.”
I walked over and picked up Rachel and Fiona's clothes, tossing them
back to them.
“Party's over. You can see yourselves out,” I said.
Deciding that I wasn't going to let Abigail go like that, I rushed out the front door, hoping to catch her before she got into the cab and drove away. But I was a moment too late. I got out to the sidewalk just as her taxi pulled out of my driveway and onto the street, speeding away quickly.
Dammit.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ABIGAIL
“I don't know why I got my hopes up. It was stupid. Really, really stupid,” I said, sniffling as I spoke to Kirby on the phone. “I mean, we made it clear what we were to each other. We were nothing more than friends with benefits. It was what we agreed upon. And yet – here I am, crying and brokenhearted anyway. This is why I don't get involved with guys, Kirbs. It never ends well for me.”
The poor taxi driver didn't say a word as I had my meltdown in his back seat. I'd managed to flag him down before he left, thankfully. But I was in tears when I climbed into his car. He simply looked at me and then looked away, waiting for me to tell him where to take me.
“I'm sorry, girl,” she said softly on the other end of the line. “I shouldn't have encouraged you to go over after dinner tonight. You just seemed so excited to talk about him and – well, yeah, that was a bad idea. I'm sorry, sweetie.”
“Not your fault,” I said. “I'm the one who got hung up on him even though I said I wouldn't. Even though I knew I shouldn't. It's not your fault, and hell, it's not even his fault. It's my fault. I should have known this was a bad idea. I never should have gotten involved with him in the first place. I know me and I should have known better. I'm an idiot.”
My phone buzzed with an incoming call. I looked and sure enough, it was Harry. I declined and went back to talking to Kirby. The last thing I wanted or needed in that moment was to talk to him.
“He's trying to call me now,” I said. “Ugh. I know I have no right to be mad at him, but I am..”
“Well, at least you finally got laid,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “So, at least something good thing came from it.”
