by Liz Crowe
Breaking their contact, he fluttered over her nipples and the pebbled skin of her stomach before finally settling himself between her legs.
“Oh, God,” Sara cried out as her pussy contracted. “Wow, ahhh, Craig, don’t stop.” She propped both feet on his back as her body relaxed and her hips started thrusting against his mouth.
He broke his exquisite contact with her clit and licked his way downward, dipping his tongue in and out of her pussy. He made a satisfied sound deep in his throat, took a moment to lick and nibble the insides of each thigh. Sara was too close to orgasm to allow for a break from his lips and she put her hands on his head to guide him back to her center.
“Don’t stop,” she reminded him as she lay back fully onto the counter, her legs still around his shoulders.
He reached down to adjust his erection and complied. She raised her hips so he didn’t have to crouch to reach her and gave in to the orgasm at it rolled over her, coating his lips with her passion. She shuddered, and Craig stood back up.
“Hey, you said you wanted me to come,” she said, her eyes still closed, the granite starting to chill her back.
Craig watched her willing his erection down. He wanted this to be a slow night of pleasure and that meant waiting on his part. His plan to drive “friends,” “benefits,” and most especially “Jack Gordon” out of her mind and life forever had shifted into overdrive.
“So let’s eat,” he stated and started to grab her hand to pull her up.
“Wait, wait, let me just lie here a minute,” she muttered and leaned back on her elbows to watch him. “You know what, I think it’s your turn lover boy,” she said, her eyes hooded. She smiled at him and licked her lips. “Take it out.”
Craig raised an eyebrow at her. She looked devastating, lying there on the kitchen island, completely naked, one leg still bent at the knee, the other swinging in anticipation. His cock stiffened to the point of near pain. He sighed and realized that he would not be the one in control tonight, or very possibly, ever.
He released his aching shaft from its denim bondage. Keeping their distance, he started to rub himself from base to tip eyes fixed on hers.
“Nice,” she muttered. “Keep going. Like you mean it.”
His hand took on a familiar rhythm, and he took a step back to lean against the wall to brace himself. He’d give her a show if she wanted, but he got to watch too.
“Touch yourself, Sara,” he said from across the room. “Show me.”
Her finger started to trace her still sensitive clit and down to her wet lips. She climbed down and started towards him.
“No,” he held a hand up and stood up straighter. “Stay there. Show me more.” She wasn’t the only one who got to make the rules, he thought as he brought his hand back to his own cock.
She shrugged and leaned back again, still propped on one elbow, her other hand starting to rub at her clit more urgently, as she watched him resume his own hand job.
Craig settled back against the wall again, and watched her–watched her incredible pussy pulse and throb as he rubbed his own fluid up and down his length. He imagined her enveloping him, felt that pussy he was watching across the room taking him in, holding him tight in its velvet vise and he increased his hand speed. He sensed the comfortable, familiar surge of energy and blood as his orgasm approached.
He groaned when she leaned up and plunged her fingers into herself, felt a familiar tingling at the base of his spine, the release quick, urgent and satisfying.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them and stared at her, his hand still wrapped around himself. She smiled and jumped down from the island, covered the distance between them in two steps and pressed her lips over his.
“Mmm,” he muttered when she ended their kiss before he said something stupid, something that gave away how much his chest constricted when he held her close. “Fun. But now I’m really hungry,” he grinned at her, pushed his hair up off his forehead and tucked his cock back inside his jeans. “Need a new shirt though,” he laughed and pulled the cum-stained one off, heading into the bedroom.
He hesitated for a minute, and stared in the mirror on the wall of his bedroom, reminding himself to take it easy, not to get too attached to her. He knew she had a long way to go before Gordon was out of her system and that her brave words about “just needing a friend” might be true now, but he had plans to change that, ones that required patience on his part. He squared his shoulders and walked back out into the living room and into the kitchen. She leaned against the island where she’d just recently climaxed all over his face, sipping her wine. His skin prickled and he had to bite his tongue to keep from picking her up her up and carrying her into the bedroom.
“Yo. You letting the steaks burn or what?” He hollered, grabbing a beer and fixing a smile on his face.
“Raw food takes one look at me and burns, and I do not mean that as a compliment. I am a rotten cook, hate the thought of it, and rely heavily on the men in my life to keep me from starving to death.” She tossed over her shoulder before going out on the patio to poke at the slabs of beef he’d laid on the grill, wine glass still in hand. By the time he reached her, tears streamed down her face.
“Whoa, whoa there, sweets. You forget my rule already? Craig does not make girls cry.” He put an arm around her shoulder, and acknowledged that this whole thing might be harder than he thought.
****
Sara lay awake, listening to the night sounds of Craig’s condo, including the deep inhale and exhale of the man next to her. She put a hand over her eyes.
You are such a shit. You said you wouldn’t do this to him. God!
She sat, holding the soft blanket to her breasts, breathing shallow.
No need to panic. Wake him up and tell him. Tell him you are leaving and never coming back. Do it now Sara, before it’s too late.
A hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back down into the warm nest of bedding. She smelled his cologne, the pool, their combined passion when he pulled her close from behind. “Lie down. I’ve got you.” She closed her eyes, allowed herself a minute of calm before easing out from under his arm. He propped himself on an elbow and blinked in the light of the bedside lamp. “What time is it?” He rolled onto his back, his near perfect, slim, naked form exposed, his cock stirring to attention again. She bit her lip.
“It’s around four I think. I gotta go.” She yanked her jeans on, shoved her arms into her tee shirt, fury rising at her own stupid behavior. He simply watched her, arms behind his head. Finally, after a few minutes of silence she stuck her feet into sandals and stared at him.
Speak Sara. You owe it to him.
“Look, Craig, I’m not…” She held up a hand as he started to get out of bed. “No, don’t.”
“Gotta take a leak, sorry. I’m listening.” She rolled her eyes and sunk into a large leather chair. He emerged from the bathroom, drying his hands, dressed in a pair of soft shorts. He sat at the end of the bed, elbows on knees and gazed at her.
She took a deep breath. “I’m not who you need me to be right now.”
He raised an eyebrow. “It was my understanding that you were my friend. Are you not that anymore?” She sighed and rubbed her eyes.
“No. I mean, yes. I am your friend, but, this,” she made a circling motion with her finger. “All this between us now has to stop.”
“Why? You don’t like it?” He leaned back on the bed, propped a foot on the bed. She frowned at him.
“Don’t ask me rhetorical questions. You know I like it. That’s not the issue.” She stood. “I’m gonna head home.”
He stood, put a hand on her arm, his touch firm and confident. “Don’t go.” She stared down at his arm then into his eyes before pulling out of his grip. She had a hand on the cold chrome door handle when he spoke, making her heart leap into her throat. “You are seriously going to let him keep you from finding happiness aren’t you?”
She clenched her jaw, turned slowly and leaned
back against door, staring at him. He stood across the dimly lit room. Odors of grilled meat, exhaust from the street below, and the ever-present chlorine filled her senses. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think you have me figured out, do you? Got all the answers I need?”
He shrugged, crossed his arms over his bare chest. “No, I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. The need to escape overwhelmed her. She couldn’t face this right now. Her head pounded from all the turmoil.
“Go on. I’ll catch you later.” He threw up his hands and started back into the bedroom.
“No, Craig, wait. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve all my bullshit. That’s why I’m leaving. Can’t you get that?” He stopped, put both hands on the doorjamb and hung his head.
“Fine, Sara. Then go. Spare me all your bullshit. Thanks in advance.” Without looking back, he went into the bedroom and shut the door.
Chapter Eleven
“So, where is he, this Prince Charming,” Rob asked. “Blake is walking around making wedding plans and shit, so I guess I need to meet him.”
Sara shot Blake a glance. He shrugged. She stifled her impulse to smack him and confront him with his own relationship problems. She didn’t want to cause a scene but he’d be hearing from her about it very soon. Besides, she had her own issues, as usual.
“He’s not coming. And he’s just a friend anyway so cool your matrimonial jets.”
“Really? I thought that was him over there.” Blake jerked his chin towards the door. It didn’t escape her notice that he and Rob stayed on opposite sides of the bar, and wouldn’t meet each other eyes.
She felt Craig’s hands on her shoulders before she had a chance to turn and see him. She tensed a moment, then relaxed and smiled at him. He leaned in to brush her lips with his.
“Hi guys. I’m Craig, Sara’s friend.” He stuck out his hand.
“That’s right Rob. We are friends. So keep commentary to a minimum please.”
Sara leaned her chin on her hand a moment and watched him. Her surprise faded to relief that he had showed up. She didn’t have it in her to explain the odd turn things had taken lately. She and Jack had reverted to the sort of nightly checkin calls about their deal, just as they had done the year before. The difference this time marked a sea of change in their relationship. It seemed as long as they remained physically separate, they communicated beautifully.
She’d stayed up into the wee hours, snuggled down under her covers, chatting with him about anything and everything. Her brother and Rob, her parents and the strange, stilted relationship she maintained with them. He filled her in about his sister, Maureen, who’d married one of his best friends from high school and moved to Germany for her husband’s army career. When he spoke of his niece and nephew, the man sounded positively moony–or as moony as a guy like Jack could sound. No topic was off limits, except of course their own failed relationship.
“Going back to the club,” he’d told her last night making her scalp tingle.
“Oh? With…”
“Yeah. She says she wants to try it out. I am fairly confident she won’t care for it, but whatever. I’m willing to give it a shot. You know me, anything to make you ladies happy.”
She closed her eyes, shutting out the banter between her brother and her …. Lover? Friend?
Jesus, what a mess.
The thought of Jack with that woman, in her submissive position made Sara want to scream and throw things. But, she’d had him and she’d given him back, hadn’t she?
Yes, she had.
“Well, have fun.”
He’d stayed silent a moment, letting it gather power between them.
“I would, if you were with me.”
“Jack. Stop it. Talk about something else. We were doing so well.”
“Sorry. I don’t know about you but I need some sleep. Tomorrow night will be a late one for me.” She had to bite her lip not to cry out with jealousy at that.
“Suppose so. I have a date too.” Of course, at that time, she’d figured Craig wouldn’t show. Not after the disappearing act she’d pulled.
“Nice. Tell surfer boy hello for me.”
She’d yawned, stretched and run her hand over her breasts, wishing beyond reason for his touch. “Maybe. ‘Night Jack. Sleep well.”
“I would, if you were with me.”
She laughed. “Stop it. ‘Night.“She ended the call, a lightness in her soul at his last words.
“Sara,” Blake snapped his fingers at her. “Hey, where did you go? C’mon, let’s hit it or we’ll be late,” he pulled her to her feet and turned her over to Craig who put a hand on her back to guide her out the door.
He still hadn’t spoken a single word to her.
****
No matter how hard he fought it, Craig knew he’d fallen for her, precaution and self-preservation be damned.
He watched her one day in the office as she went about her business and suddenly began fantasizing about how he’d ask her to marry him–how he’d solicit her brother’s help planning the most perfect evening because he knew Blake liked him and he’d figured out that was key. The small voice of doubt that would raise its hand to be heard at times, especially those times when Craig found himself flat out gloating over Jack Gordon’s loss, he forced down beneath his desire for her.
When she had glanced over at him and smiled, breaking his reverie, he’d had to shake himself to banish the image of Jack watching them. Of him pounding into her while that asshole had to observe them, powerless to change how she felt.
After that night, when she’d left without warning or a decent explanation he’d nearly given up. Something held her back, kept her at arm’s length. Maybe it was the friend thing. Maybe he had read too much into it too soon. He sighed as they exited The Ark, Ann Arbor’s funky, indie music venue after the concert.
“Let’s get a beer. I want to go over the Big House Brewing. I haven’t been and I heard…” She squeezed his hand suddenly and gave him a significant look. “What?”
“It’s okay babe.” Blake gave her a one armed hug, shot his boyfriend a murderous look and walked away, leaving Rob to shrug and follow him.
“Sorry. What did I say?”
“Suzanne Baxter, one of the owners there, she was, um, Blake’s last girlfriend I guess you could say. It’s awkward and something is going on between those two lately.” She shrugged and took his hand. “I’m glad you came tonight.”
He smiled and put an arm around her shoulder. “You are a high maintenance bitch. But I wouldn’t have missed this concert for anything.”
She punched his side, and then wound an arm around his waist, reveling in his familiar scent. “Let’s get that beer. I’ll buy.”
“Damn straight you will, walking out on me, leaving me in my cold lonely bed. Jeez. I felt like a deflowered abandoned prom date.”
She laughed. “C’mon, I can drive.”
By the time they reached the Tap Room of Big House Brewing Co, it was nearly full but they found a seat at the crowded bar and ordered a couple of the dark stout beers that had made the company regionally famous. The silence between them felt awkward but he let it linger. As he glanced around, his gaze lit on a slight, redheaded woman making her way through the crowd, laughing and chatting.
“That’s Suzanne,” Sara whispered. Craig kept watching as she worked the room. “She dumped Blake, telling him he was too young. It broke his heart I tell you. Within a month, he’d met Rob and fell even harder so maybe it was meant to be, who could know? Fate. It’s a bitch.” She finished her pint and raised her hand for another.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman for some reason. At one point, she looked up and met his gaze, making him blush and turn around.
A few minutes later, the woman was beside them with a hand on Sara’s shoulder and a genuine smile on her lovely face. “Sara? How are you?”
Sara returned her grin, stood and hug
ged her. “I’m okay Suze, thanks. This is Craig Robinson, a friend and fellow realtor at Stewarts.” He shook her hand.
“Great to meet you. Hey, um Sara, can I talk to you a sec?”
“Not if it’s about Jack you can’t.” Craig stared at the red headed beauty. How in the hell did she know…
“Sorry, Craig.” His skin buzzed when Suzanne put a hand on his arm. “Small town. Too many connections. Anyway,” She gave Sara a look. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
He watched a frown crease Sara’s face as she repeated: “Not if it’s about Jack. That subject is closed.”
Suzanne laughed and held up a hand. “All right sorry. Just trying to …”
“Don’t.” Sara stared straight ahead. Craig smiled at Suzanne and shrugged.
“Caught in the middle, that’s me.” She put an arm around his shoulders, startling him but he went with it.
“Don’t know if that’s a safe place between those two, dear.” She gave him a squeeze and backed away. The look in her eyes was inscrutable. He had a sudden urge to keep her around, chatting. She patted his arm, winked and moved back into the crowd. He stared after her a minute, seemingly mesmerized.
Damn. That was strange.
He turned and focused back on Sara. But the deep blue gaze of the lovely redheaded Suzanne stayed in his head.
Chapter Twelve
Blake stared out of the car window, tapping his fingers on his knee as Rob maneuvered through the crowded Ann Arbor streets. He put a hand on his lover’s thigh at one point, as they neared his small house on the west side. Rob parked, stared at the windshield, then up at him in a way that turned his blood cold.
“I can’t do this anymore Blake.” He kept a death grip on the steering wheel.
“Do what anymore?” Blake put his palm over Rob’s white knuckles but the other man didn’t move. “Rob?”
“You are not over her. I get it. Sara is miserable still. My friend Jack, whom you despise, is equally unhappy. This is a mess. I need some space.”
