Badd Luck

by Jasinda Wilder

  It was...heaven.

  9

  Tate

  * * *

  I woke up with a dry-mouth and far less of a headache than I'd anticipated. Usually, after a night like I'd had, I'd be disoriented for a minute, trying to figure out where I was and what had happened and all that.

  Not this time.

  For some reason, I woke up totally lucid, and I remembered everything.

  Like...everything.

  Including being in the lake, splashing around, which had turned into an epic water fight, and then somehow I'd ended up tangled up with a hard male body, and at first I'd assumed it was Corin, but then as grabbing and wrestling and playing had turned into something decidedly else, decidedly more, I'd realized it wasn't Corin.

  It had been Canaan.

  And I'd kept going.

  Yeah, I'd been drunk, really drunk, and so was he. So was Corin, so was Aerie. We were all wasted, and that kind of stuff happens when you're wasted, right?

  Shit.

  I kept my eyes closed and pushed those thoughts out of my head--I wasn't ready to process that stuff yet.

  Instead, I focused on my present circumstance: naked, wrapped up in a quilt, with Corin behind me, spooning me.

  And there was something large and hard and thick and hot wedged between the cheeks of my ass. One of his hands was resting on my hipbone, and the other was nestled between my breasts...and I was clinging to that hand of his with both of mine. His mouth was pressed against my shoulder blade, and his chest was rising and falling evenly, heavily. He wasn't quite snoring, but he was making an adorable little noise in his throat on each exhale, and something about that noise, the vulnerability of it, the cuteness of it...it just hit me right in the heart.

  I'd slept with Corin.

  Like, slept slept. All night. And now I'm waking up with him.

  Another first for me. I wondered if it was a first for him, too. I hoped it was; I wanted this to be as special for him as it was for me.

  My bladder was telling me I'd have to get up soon, and my mouth was telling me I needed a drink, but I was too warm, too comfortable, and too happy in this moment to bother moving. So I didn't. I just stayed there, drowsy and contented, trying to ignore Corin's erection. Which...wasn't easy, not with it being as huge and prominent as it was, and not placed where it was, wedged tight between my butt cheeks.

  I heard Corin sniff and then sigh sleepily. His hand tightened on my hip, and his other hand flexed between my breasts. His feet wiggled, twisting and stretching, and then his hips flexed a little.

  "Mmmm." His voice told me he was awake, but barely.

  "Hi," I whispered, as quietly as I could.

  "Hi." He was more awake now, and I think he was becoming aware of the intimacy of our position.

  "Sleep good?" I asked.

  "Best night of sleep ever."

  "Me too," I said. Then, after a long pause, I huffed a quiet laugh. "Someone else is awake."

  He pushed his hips into my butt, grinding against me. "No kidding."

  "Again, I wish we were alone."

  "Fucking hell, T. Me too." He shifted his hand so he was cupping my breast. "I like waking up like this, though."

  "Me too, Cor. A lot."

  His lips brushed the shell of my ear. "I want you to know something, Tate."

  I twisted to lie on my back, tugging the quilt up to my chin, meeting his intense brown gaze. "What's that?"

  "That was the first time I'd ever just slept with anyone."

  My heart leapt. "Me too, actually. I was just thinking about that, before you woke up."

  He propped his head on his hand. "Yeah? What were you thinking?"

  I lifted one shoulder. "Just that..." I trailed off, unsure of my next words.

  God, how much did I tell him? How deep was I willing to go?

  Fuck it. Right? I mean, this opportunity may never come around again. If this was just physical chemistry, if we ended up going our separate ways again, our friendship was very definitely never going to be the same. So what did I have to lose by being honest with him, especially if our friendship was already permanently altered in some way or another?

  Not a damn thing.

  What did I have to gain by telling him what I'd been thinking?

  A lot.

  The possibility of finding that person I've been waiting for, hoping for--that person I could trust myself to. Was it Corin? I had no way of knowing that. But the happiness I felt just in waking up in his arms? That was a pretty strong signal that the possibility at least existed. Which we'd never really be able to explore if we were both tiptoeing around our feelings and keeping things to ourselves.

  I was about to open up with all this, when Corin started talking. "I'll tell you what I'm thinking first, if it'll make it easier for you," he said. "I've never slept with anyone, not like this. Which means I've obviously never woken up with anyone like this. And...it's intense, T, the way I feel about this. Like, it's not just about how much I like waking up with a seriously fucking sexy woman naked in my arms-- which is pretty goddamn epic. It's...it's that it's you. It's a feeling of...I've never felt this happy to just...to just wake up." He chuckled. "Even with a hangover."

  I sighed in relief. "Thank god you said that, Cor. Because that's how I'm feeling."

  His hand traced over my stomach, his fingertip circling my navel, then sliding up to my diaphragm and between my breasts. "I want to wake up with you like this...a lot. And I want to wake up with you like this in a situation where we can just..."

  "Indulge?" I suggested, tracing the grooves of his abs. "Do whatever we want, for as long as we want to?"

  "Exactly." He hesitated. "You know how we woke up."

  I snorted gently. "You mean, with your dick between my ass cheeks?"

  "Well, yeah, more or less, although I was referring to the more general positioning. Waking up spooning like that..."

  I caught what he was getting at. "I've never spent the night with anyone, never woken up with anyone...and no, I've never had sex like that with anyone."

  "It's like you know what I'm going to say without me having to say it," he muttered, laughing. "Neither have I. And now I'm...intensely curious."

  "Me, too," I whispered, giggling. "But we can't. Not here." I brushed my hand down his torso and found that he was still rocking a mammoth hard-on. "Jesus, Cor. You're still hard? Are you going to be okay? I know I left you hanging last night even after promising not to."

  "I'm naked in bed with you. It's not likely I'll get so used to that anytime soon that I'm not gonna be hard as a fuckin' rock just being naked with you, even if we're not doing anything." He sighed. "But yeah, I'll be fine. It wasn't your fault those two came out when they did."

  "Don't all guys get morning wood every morning anyway?" I asked.

  "Usually, yeah. This one is especially bad because I was hard for so long last night without getting to come."

  I wanted him, so bad. Wanted to touch him, feel him come, get his hands on me, his mouth on me. I glanced at the bed, and saw that Canaan and Aerie were both still sound asleep, Canaan snoring and Aerie doing that huff-snurk thing she's always done.

  "And when you wake up like this when you're alone, what do you do about it?"

  He shrugged. "Depends. Sometimes, I go jerk one out, but usually I kind of just ignore it until it goes away."

  This wasn't what I'd been expecting. "Really?"

  He laughed. "Yeah. In the morning, it tends to last a while, so jerking morning wood can be a somewhat lengthy process, and I don't always have the patience for it."

  "So if we were to have morning sex, at some point..." I said, trailing off so he'd finish my statement.

  "It would probably last a really long time, and be really, really intense."

  "God, I can't wait."

  "I'm just conjecturing, though," he said. "That'd be another first for me."

  "Same here." I smiled at him. "One thing I was thinking before you woke up was that I real
ly want to have all these firsts with you. Sleeping together, waking up together...morning sex together...I want to have as many big firsts with you as I can. I like sharing that stuff with you."

  "Me, too." Corin chewed on his lower lip for a second. "Which is funny, because I've had a lot of hook-ups in my life, you know? Like, in high school Canaan and I got around a lot, you might say, and then we lived in LA on our own when we were seventeen, and then we went on tour, and that only sort of picked up for us, right?"

  I rolled my eyes and turned my head away, irritated. "All right, Don Juan. You don't need to brag--big numbers aren't really going to impress me, okay?"

  "No, no, that's not my point." He cupped my cheek and turned my face toward his again. "My point is that for all that, I've never really been...ummm...adventurous, I guess I'll say. Things have been straightforward, and somewhat limited in scope. So...my point is that I've actually got a lot of firsts to share with you, despite having had a lot of hook-ups."

  "That's oddly sweet," I said. "I mean, I'm not sure how I feel, now, about you having had a lot of hook-ups."

  "You knew that about me back in the day, though."

  "I know, and it's not like I'm exactly a slouch in that department either, whether in high school or afterward." I shrugged. "But now that we're...I don't know...exploring things, I guess, I just..."

  "I've got no intention of going into details or anything, because I'm not like that. It was never about racking up numbers, okay? But I get what you're saying. Things are different, now."

  "Right. They're just different."

  Corin reached down and adjusted himself with a hiss and a wince. "Shit, man, this thing just will not go away."

  I lifted the quilt and peeked down, and saw that he was still hard as a fucking rock. "I feel like I should take pity on you."

  "I wouldn't mind a little pity, right now."

  I grinned at him. "I have an idea."

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. "If it means you taking pity on my poor aching boner, I'm up for just about anything."

  I laughed. "Well, you're certainly up, that's for sure." I tilted my head toward the door. "Let's sneak outside. Keep the quilt wrapped around us so we don't get cold, and I'll see what I can do about your not so little situation, there."

  "Sounds good."

  So we carefully crept to our feet, keeping the quilt wrapped around our shoulders, and snuck to the door. Corin stood by the door, waiting as I visited the bathroom quickly to relieve my aching bladder, and then when I ducked back under the blanket with him, he gingerly twisted the doorknob, eased the cabin door open, and we tiptoed out into the hazy gray of early dawn. Mist clung to the ground, and the air was chilly but not cold, there was dew on the leaves and the grass.

  We stood on the porch, breathing in the clear, cool dawn air for a moment, and then Corin glanced at me. "Now where? The dock?"

  I shook my head. "Nah. Too far, and I'm too sober to make that trip naked and barefoot." I glanced at the truck, the windows dewed over. "Backseat of the truck?"

  Corin nodded, grinning. "Sounds good."

  We tiptoed down the porch steps and across the cold hard dirt road to the truck. It was unlocked, and we climbed into the backseat, which involved a lot of giggling and laughing and muffled squeals as the quilt shifted and bared our skin to the cold air, until we got settled on the bench with the quilt around our shoulders and draped across our bodies to keep the cool air at bay.

  We were pressed against each other, our skin warm, a heady contrast to the cold in the cab of the pickup. I leaned against Corin, touching my lips to his cheek.

  "So." I palmed his deliciously hard abs. "How's your situation?"

  He kissed my forehead, and then my temple, his arm going around my shoulders, tucking me into his side, my head now resting on his shoulder. "Still a situation."

  "Yeah? So...you still need a little pity?" I rested my hand on his warm thigh.

  He laughed, nodding, his chin scraping the top of my head. "Yes, Tate, I still need a little pity."

  "Well then, pity you shall have." I grasped him, stroking him. "I'm not going down on you, though."

  "No?"

  "Nope. I've got morning breath something fierce, and I'm thirsty, and I need coffee..." I let the quilt drape open a hint, enough that I could watch my hand sliding. "And I'm just not in the mood. Sorry."

  He shrugged. "You touching me is more than enough." He glanced down, watching me touch him. "For real, just this? Just your hand on me feels so fucking good."

  "So if I just used my hand?"

  "This is your pity-party, babe. Do what you want."

  "You have anything for clean-up?" I asked.

  He leaned forward and opened the console between the front seats, and came up with a stack of paper napkins, the kind they stocked at the bar. "Sure do." He closed the console and set the napkins on it, and then sat back against the bench.

  "Besides," I said, "I also just kind of want to watch."

  "Watch?"

  I opened the blanket a bit more, giving us both a better view of my slowly gliding fist. "You, when you come. I want to see the whole thing."

  "Oh."

  "In high school, I went right from second-base messing around to having sex," I said. "There wasn't a lot of in between. So...I don't think I've ever just..." I shrugged, trailing off.

  "Ever what?" I think he just wanted to hear me say the words.

  I rolled my eyes at him. "I've never given a guy a handjob, okay? Is that what you want to hear me say?"

  "For two people who have had a lot of sexual partners, we sure are having a lot of weird firsts together," he said. He sucked in a deep breath, and let it out shakily as his hips began to flex. "Because I've never received one either. Not, like, just that, from start to finish."

  "It always seemed like...there were just better ways to get to the finish," I said.

  "Right. I'm usually way too eager to actually get down to the really good stuff to be content with something like this." He hissed between his teeth, throwing his head back against the seat back. "Jesus, Tate. You're driving me fucking crazy."

  I tilted my head to one side, smiling coyly at him, eyes wide, eyebrows lifted. "I am? What am I doing?"

  He growled. "You're drawing it out and you know it, you saucy minx."

  He wasn't wrong: I was making this as slow as I possibly could. Just one hand, sliding down agonizingly slowly, twisting on the way up, maybe squeezing the tip a little, then sliding back down even more slowly than the last time. Drawing it out, like he said. Just watching my hand traveling up and down his big beautiful cock. I was enjoying the sight of his abs flexing, his sharp, hard hips pivoting, his muscular thighs tensing. Watching his jaw clench and release, his eyes close and then flutter open to watch again. He was just...so fucking sexy, I couldn't handle it. And when he got all excited and had to hold back his orgasm, he was even sexier. The sight of Corin struggling to hold back was wildly erotic, to me. His face tilted up, his expression desperate, determined, and fierce, his cut, corded muscles bulging, his breathing heavy and ragged.

  I wasn't sure why I'd never done this before, but I felt stupid. Because this was fucking amazing. I could do this to him all damn day and never get tired of it, never get tired of watching him, feeling him, touching him. And knowing when I was done with him he'd almost certainly find a way to make me feel as good as I'd made him feel. That only heightened the enjoyment. Anticipation of him coming, anticipation of him making me come? This wasn't sex, but it was pretty damn amazing.

  "Tate..." he groaned. "Fuck, baby."

  "Good?"

  "So fucking good."

  I leaned closer to him, palming his cheek to tilt his face to me, and I kissed him. His tongue slid against mine, and I tasted him, not caring about morning breath on either of us, not in that moment. It was just too intense a kiss, too deep, too wild, too hot; and, I realized, it was our first kiss.

  He pressed against me, cupping my cheek, fingers fea
thering in my loose hair, pulling me closer. I stroked his hot, straining cock steadily now, moaning as he kissed me back, deepening it with each passing moment, until the kiss was all consuming and there was nothing but the kiss...

  ...and my hand, gliding smoothly and slowly up and down his gorgeous cock.

  Finally, Corin broke the kiss with a curse, his hips pivoting, grinding into my touch. "Fuck, Tate, fuck...I can't last much longer."

  "Good. I can't wait to watch you come all over my hand."

  "Goddamn, when you talk dirty like that it makes it even harder for me hold out."

  "Yeah? You like it when I talk dirty? It turns you on?"

  "Fuck, yeah."

  I kissed the side of his jaw, breathing a laugh. "God, you're easy to please." I quickened my pace. "All I've got to do is tell you how much I like the feel of your big cock in my hand, and you get turned on."

  "It's that easy, babe."

  "I can't wait to feel you come. I want to watch your cum spurt out and get all over your cock and on my hand, and on your stomach. I want you to come everywhere. Make a big old mess for me, baby."

  He groaned. "Oh fuck, so close, now." He forced his eyes open and twisted his head against the bench, glancing at me sideways. "Put your other hand on me. Massage my balls."

  I gave him what he asked for, cupping his tight, heavy sac in my palm, gently, gingerly, carefully massaging them.

  "Oh fuck yeah, just like that."

  "You like that?" I asked.

  He groaned and laughed at the same time. "You have no idea how good this feels."

  "Better than a blowjob?"

  "Don't be ridiculous," he said with a laugh. "Not sure there's anything better than a blowjob, but this, Tate...goddamn, what you're doing right now is up there with the best things ever in my whole life."

  He was still holding out, groaning, tensed, hips flexing, muscles hard.

  "You're so fucking sexy, Corin," I murmured to him. "For real. I'm getting so turned on, right now, doing this to you, watching you. Seriously. I can't handle how sexy you are."

  "Oh Jesus, fuck...you've got a handle on me, that's for sure." He flicked his eyes open and met mine. "You're the sexy one, Tate. I couldn't even make up a fantasy about a woman who looked as incredible as you."

  "Oh stop," I teased. "But don't actually stop. I'll take all the flattery you've got. I don't mind."