by Anna Durand
“And that’s what convinced me I had to.” He scooted closer to settle one arm behind my shoulders again. The scent of his cologne, musky and spicy, enveloped me. The proximity to all his muscles made my skin tighten. He lifted my chin with one finger, turning my face toward him. “You came here to get laid.”
A blush fired up in my cheeks, hot enough I longed for a piece of paper to fan my face. I tried to avert my eyes, but the intensity of his focus paralyzed me. My pulse quickened. “I—I wanted to find out why men like sleeping with random women. So I, uh—” My stomach twisted into knots, but somehow I couldn’t stop babbling. “I decided to try it myself. Have a fling. Screw and run, like you guys do.”
“Christ, Mel.” He frowned at me, but his finger slid up my jawbone, tracing tiny circles on my cheek. “You don’t do casual sex. You’re not built for it.”
“I may not be drool worthy, but I clean up okay.”
“Stop it.” His hand spread out to cover my cheek, his thumb grazing the corner of my mouth. “I meant you’re the kind of woman who needs commitment.” He edged closer. His thigh pressed into mine and a tingling swept through me. In that husky voice, he murmured, “You’re sexy as hell. Devon was a jackass for not seeing it.”
I couldn’t move my head, with his hand bracing it, so I stared at his chin. The cute dimple. The five o’clock shadow. Cut it out, this is Adam. “So, um, you came here to tell me I’m an idiot for even thinking about doing what you do all the time.”
“No. I’m here to make an offer.” He rubbed his thumb over my lips. “If you want a hot fuck, I’m your man.”
The room tilted on a wave of dizziness. I gaped at my best friend, speechless.
“I’m serious.” His eyes had gone as sultry as his tone They mesmerized me, my mind rocking on the swells of an imaginary ocean. “A stranger is too dangerous. I’ll take care of you. I’m healthy and I always use a condom.”
This was insanity. He must be playing a joke on me. “You’re a few months too late for April Fool’s.”
His hand dropped to my knee and his warm palm was on my bare skin. He ducked his head close to mine and his breath teased my lips when he spoke. “Tell me you’ve never once thought about this.”
I cleared my throat. “Maybe once or twice.” A dozen times tonight, but who was counting. I was a woman, and he had a confidence and charm few women resisted. But this was the boy I grew up with, my confidante. When my dad had a heart attack last year, Adam had held me while I cried out my fears, the two of us huddled in his car outside the hospital. He stayed with me and Mom while we waited for Dad to come out of surgery and when we learned he was okay, Adam drove us home. Devon had been away on a “business” trip.
Adam’s hand roamed up my thigh to the hem of my dress. A storm of sensations decimated my thoughts. I clamped my thighs together, but still my body ached for more of his touch. His other hand draped over my shoulders, his fingers skating over my skin. “I’ve thought about it, too. We could try it once, to see how it feels.”
His lips hovered dangerously near mine. My mouth watered and I couldn’t stop from sliding my tongue across my lower lip. I longed to flick it out to taste his mouth. I wished I could’ve blamed alcohol for it, but I hadn’t so much as had a sip. His clothes, his demeanor, his voice, everything about him tonight aroused desires I’d sublimated since puberty. Adam was off limits, or so I’d told myself. Adam was…Adam. No one understood me better. There was no one I trusted more. With all his practice in seduction, he must know every trick to pleasure a woman. If I wanted mind-blowing sex, I’d find it in his bed.
No. Oh, no-no-no. I wriggled away from him, ignoring the dampness between my thighs and the frantic hunger burgeoning inside me. “We can’t do this. It’ll ruin our friendship.”
“No,” he declared with utter certainty.
“You said it yourself, Adam. I don’t do casual sex.”
“It won’t be casual. I care about you.”
“But—no. I cannot have sex with you.”
He spread his palm over the tabletop, then bent his fingers until his nails scratched the surface. His mouth opened and closed twice before he finally spoke. “You’d have a one night stand with some random prick, but you won’t let me make love to you?”
I hugged myself. Why hadn’t I brought a jacket? “What happens after?”
Adam squinted at me. “What?”
Shoulders hunched, I avoided looking at him. “After we, you know, do it—then what? We pretend it didn’t happen? I’m not sure we could stay friends after that.” I risked a sideways glance at him. “I don’t want to lose you.”
His fingers threaded through my hair. “You won’t.”
I exhaled a shaky breath. My skin still tingled and the scent of him lingered around me. I set my hands at either side of my legs, running my palms over the soft, supple fabric of the seat. I studied the fabric, the way the cushion gave under the pressure of my fingers. In contrast, Adam’s hands were callused and strong, yet they glided over my skin like satin.
He snatched a plastic fork off the table. Speared a bite of cake. Raised it to his parted lips. My breath caught. He slid the fork into his mouth. Those lips enveloped the tines, and as he withdrew the fork, the muscles in his jaw flexed. A dab of frosting clung to lip. His tongue swept out to lick it away. Then, from deep in his chest, rumbled a long, ravenous groan. My sex pulsed beneath my wet panties. I burned to be the cake, to have his mouth on me, everywhere.
He lifted a forkful of cake to my lips. They parted as if on command—his command—and he eased the fork into my mouth. As my mouth closed, he drew the fork out slowly. My chest heavy, my breaths ragged, I devoured the confection. Its decadent chocolate flavor, chased by the luscious cream cheese frosting, aroused every one of my senses. But Adam’s parted lips and hungry stare devastated my willpower. I counted the buttons on his shirt. Anything to banish these forbidden thoughts.
“One kiss,” he said.
My head popped up. “Huh?”
“Let’s try one kiss and see how it goes.”
I shouldn’t. I couldn’t. But a madness overtook me, fueled by a heady craving, and I said, “Okay.”
His smile was slow and sensual, and my body responded, softening. He slid to me. His hand cupped my cheek, while his other arm settled down onto my shoulders. I sat mashed against his hard body. My breaths grew shallow and quick, almost pants, as he tilted my head back and our gazes intersected.
Hot. Liquid. Pulse-pounding need.
I lifted a hand to the back of his neck and dipped my fingers under his shirt collar. His arm around my shoulders tugged me tighter into him, his fingers splaying over my arm. My breasts molded to him and grew heavy. My aching nipples puckered. I swept my hand across his collarbone, down to his chest and the skin exposed by his open collar. He groaned. With my other hand, I explored the lines of muscle with my fingertips, excited by the softness of his skin. His lips brushed across mine. Once. Twice. I clutched fistfuls of his shirt. While he teased my lips with his tongue, his arm drifted down my back. I raked my nails down his shirt. A long, guttural moan rumbled in his throat. He captured my lower lip between his teeth and sucked. His hand cupped my bottom.
“Please,” I panted.
With a swiftness that stole my breath, he took my mouth in a possessive kiss, plunging his tongue deep inside. I surrendered to the moment, to him, reveling in his demanding strokes, and I realized he was staking a claim. His bruising kiss branded me, even as I devoured him with an ardor unlike anything I’d known before. He would take care of me. Like nobody else could.
With every thrust of his tongue, he tugged my ass, driving my hips forward, pressing me into his erection. He shoved a hand under my dress, up my thigh, and straight inside my panties to grope my bare skin. With deliberate slowness, he peeled his mouth away from mine. My lips burned from his passion, swollen from his unrelenting hunger. Struggling to catch my breath, I let my gaze travel up to his. “Okay.”
His
forehead crinkled.
“I’m saying yes.” I nipped his lower lip. “Let’s have sex.”
He grinned. “You won’t regret this.”
God, I hoped not. But I had come to this club with the intention of scoring hot sex. Based on our kiss, I had no doubt whatsoever Adam would deliver.
My best friend. What if I lost him? Was one night of passion worth it? For once, I wanted to be impulsive and wild. With Adam, I knew I’d be safe. I pinched his nipple through his shirt, thrilled by his little gasp. “Not here. We should go…someplace else.”
“My apartment’s closer than yours.”
“I was thinking a hotel.”
“No.” That luscious mouth twisted into a wicked smirk. “My place.”
“Fine.” My body screamed for satisfaction, and I no longer gave a damn where we went, as long as he was stripping me naked soon. Very soon.
He plundered my mouth with another molten, wet kiss. Then he pulled us both to our feet and hustled me out of the club. I barely noticed the dancers, the music, the pulsating lights. My world telescoped down to Adam and my voracious craving for his gorgeous body. We were about to rocket past a line. And all I could think was…
Faster.
****
We entered his apartment, hand in hand. The door clicked shut. Adam flicked a switch and the floor lamp by the sofa came on. In the car, his hand had roamed over my thigh, obliterating any chance I’d had of regaining my wits. At every stoplight, he claimed my lips with slow, steamy kisses. My body blazed with need by the time we reached his apartment building, but in the elevator he turned chaste, with a single hand bracing my elbow.
I stumbled into the living room, struggling to focus my brain. How many times had I visited this apartment? How many hours had I whiled away here, with him? Along one wall, two shelves displayed photos. The top shelf was snapshots of his family, but the bottom one was all me. I’d seen the “Mel Shelf” before, yet now, with my body still humming with desire, the framed photos of me sent a warm shudder down my spine.
I love you. He’d said the words. I wasn’t sure he meant them the way my brain seemed fixated on interpreting them. He’d also said if you want a hot fuck, I’m your man. Hard to misinterpret those words. The last thing I wanted was to become another of Adam’s ex-lovers. While I stared at the “Mel Shelf”, he shifted behind me, his body hot on my back. His erection swelled against me. I lost the ability to breathe, to move. He hooked his arms around my waist, fingers locked over my belly.
“You can change your mind,” he murmured into my ear. His tongue teased my lobe. “But I hope you don’t. This’ll be good, I promise.”
“A hot fuck?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. For starters.”
I surveyed the photos of me. One grabbed my focus—me and Adam, his arm around my shoulders, both of us smiling and dressed in formal wear. We were seventeen and at the prom. Adam convinced me we should go together, because we’d have more fun together. The prom had become the highlight of my high school years. His dance moves back then were far more innocent. Now the adult, incredibly sexy Adam urged me to go for more. The risk was great, the payoff might be better, and all I had to do was surrender to a man who understood me like no other and watched out for me, no matter what.
He skated one hand down to the apex of my thighs, and the sensitive mound there. I rolled my hips into him instinctively. “This could be a huge mistake.”
“Trust me. It won’t be.” His fingers feathered over my sex through my dress, the faint pressure, a delicious torment. “This is not a one night stand.”
With his body, he compelled me to shuffle down the short hallway that led to his bedroom. A few feet from the door, I stopped. I couldn’t do this. I shouldn’t. The risk was too high. Those skilled fingers teased my flesh, exciting every hair, even through my dress, and then dipped between my slick folds to caress my swollen sex. I tensed. His fingers rubbed the silken fabric into my clit, over and over. My knees wobbled. He nibbled my earlobe.
“Adam.” His free hand caught my breast. I swallowed a gasp. “I couldn’t bear to be just the latest in a long string of girls in your bed.”
“You’re not.” He kneaded my breast, as his other hand massaged my folds. “You’re the only woman who’s ever been in my apartment—except for family.”
“But you’ve slept with lots of women.”
“Lots? I don’t know about that.” His thumb raked over my nipple. “I always went to their places or to hotels. This apartment is where you are. I couldn’t bring anyone else here.”
He spun me around. His chest heaved. His lips were parted, his eyes fevered with desire, his hard cock straining his pants. I couldn’t speak. My heart hammered, my thoughts spun, and my legs threatened to collapse. I was the only one he brought here?
“Listen to me,” he said, his tone fervent. “I’m with one woman at a time. I do not cheat.”
Like Devon. He didn’t say it, but I knew it was what he meant.
His hands settled on my hips. “I’m monogamous, Mel.”
“I know. But your longest relationship lasted six weeks.”
“Yeah, and it took me years to figure out why.” He hauled me closer, until my taut nipples pushed into him through my dress and his shirt. His rigid cock jutted against my belly. “I can’t connect with other women because you’re the one I need.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
He nuzzled the tip of my nose. “I’m in love with you.”
My body swayed, my heart pounding so fast it hurt.
“Relax, Mel.” He lowered his lips until they grazed mine. “You don’t have to say anything. I promised you hot sex and I don’t welch on deals.”
He backed me up to the wall. I flattened my palms on it, desperate for something solid to cling to. He pressed his seductive body against mine, head bowed to murmur in my ear. “I want you, Mel. Just this once, let me taste you.”
With a hiss of breath, he ground his hard shaft against me. I parted my thighs without thinking, and part of me prayed he’d plunge inside. Christ. I wanted him. When did that happen? He dragged his lips across my cheek, down to the corner of my mouth. His silky tongue flitted over my flushed skin. I turned my head into his mouth and he captured my lower lip between his, suckling. I flailed for reason, but it had fled the moment his flesh contacted mine. He released my lip and slanted his mouth over mine, his tongue forging deep inside, demanding a response. My body ignited at the taste of him, the silken strokes of his tongue, the forbidden hunger raging in me. I delved into his mouth with equal ardor, and lost my mind to the sensations. With one hand, he hiked up my skirt. His fingers glided up my thigh. I moaned into his mouth.
He’d said I’m in love with you. The Arsonist wouldn’t make a declaration of love. The words came from Adam, the good man under the hedonist disguise, and he’d meant what he said.
He tore his lips from mine to bend his head to my breast. His mouth closed over my nipple through the fabric of my dress. When he rolled it between his teeth, sucking hard, my back arched. He nipped and swiped his tongue over the rock-hard peak, as his finger hooked over the waist of my panties and tugged down.
I fumbled with the knot securing my halter and with a muttered curse freed it at last. The top of my dress fluttered to my waist, one half of it caught on Adam’s head. He shook it off and his tongue found my naked breast.
I shoved my hands into his tousled hair, nails scraping his scalp. He groaned against my nipple, but kept lapping and teasing, drawing it into his mouth with such force I bucked into him.
Mindless, I ripped open the button of his slacks, yanked the zipper down, and liberated his cock. It popped out into my hand, thick and sleek, stiff against my palm. I encircled it with my fingers and stroked, enraptured by the feel of his raging erection, the one I’d given him. The thought of making love to me made him rock hard. He wanted me. Loved me. I rubbed my thumb over his reddened tip.
Adam captured my wrists and
pinned them above my head. Pressed to the cold wall, I gazed into his molten caramel eyes, entranced by my best friend, the only man I’d ever trusted without reservation. His hands glided down my arms, inch by inch, trailing heat in their wake.
“I can’t wait anymore,” he rasped.
“Then don’t.” My body thrummed with need. When he slid his hot tongue around the shell of my ear, I shuddered and tilted my head back. His insatiable mouth sealed over the hollow of my throat, then skidded downward over my sensitized flesh, setting off electric shocks under my skin.
His head flew up, his eyes intent on mine. He shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out a foil packet. With his teeth, he ripped it open, and then with his sure hands he sheathed himself with the condom. “Adam—I—please—”
He yanked up my skirt and plunged inside, pumping with a relentless rhythm, gripping my bare bottom with both hands and arching me into his thrusts. My hands fell to his shoulders, and my fingers dug into his flesh. I tore open his shirt. Buttons scattered, bounced off the wall, skittered over the floor. I shoved aside the fabric to explore his hot flesh, greedy for the sensation of skin on skin. His muscles rippled beneath my palms.
He grasped my left leg and hoisted it up, my knee braced on his hip. I flung my arms around his neck and held on. Every thrust of his cock burrowed deeper into me as I writhed against him, desperate to drink in all the pleasure his flesh could infuse into me.
I buried my face in his neck, my fingers clenched in his hair, the scent of his sweat and my arousal mingling into a heady concoction. The fullness of him inside me, consuming and inflaming me, drove me out of my mind.
His voice hissed in my ear. “I love you, Mel. I love you, God, I do.”
A wave of heady freedom crested over me. I didn’t know what I was doing, what I was saying, but the words bubbled out of me on a choked breath. “I love you, Adam.”
He pounded into me faster, harder. I clung to him. His fingers dug into my ass. My body clenched. The tension mounted higher and higher, his thrusts wild and carnal. I sank my teeth into his shoulder, whimpered, and his breaths huffed in my ear. His hips gyrated. My climax convulsed my entire body. I felt him come apart inside me. He gave a guttural cry, pumping until he was spent.
