The Best Friend Incident (Driven to Love)

by Melia Alexander

She looked away from the screen and bit down on her lower lip. Damn, damn, damn. She was tired of waiting for the perfect guy to show up. Grant was here, and he would willingly give her what she wanted tonight. Why was she fighting it so hard? Maybe he was right after all. Would it be so bad to focus on now, without thought of what a future might look like?

  She couldn’t stand it. His hand stroking hers, the warmth of his body pressed next to her, the thump of her heart like it wanted to gallop out of her chest. What was so wrong with taking what she wanted, damn it?

  Not a thing. Not. A. Damn. Thing.

  Without a word she shifted, untangling their hands, hoping he understood her silent intent. She leaned toward Grant, acutely aware that something very interesting was happening on the screen. Didn’t matter, she had more pressing matters in front of her.

  She traced a hand over his chest, felt the rock-hard muscles underneath, and sighed. Sure, she’d seen him with his shirt off before, but chances were good that they weren’t half as appealing then as they would be now that she’d let her mind go down that path.

  Stacey pulled back just far enough to capture his gaze. His breathing was shallow, his eyes trained on her like he had no intention of breaking their connection. “You know what we should do, Grant?”

  “What?”

  She smiled at the breathlessly spoken word. He was definitely as turned on as she was. What would he think if she suggested they mimic the scene playing out on the screen? “I think we should—”

  Ding-dong!

  …

  Grant blinked as the sound of the doorbell registered and Stacey scrambled off the sofa. Holy motherfucking God.

  A few seconds earlier and he’d have already hauled her to her bedroom, missing the doorbell completely. Grant wouldn’t have stopped. Screw the pizza.

  “Get the door,” she directed, fumbling for her purse. Her hands were shaking, and she looked as flustered as she sounded.

  Easy for her to say. She didn’t have a woody that made walking hard. Somehow, he managed to make it to the door, but not before the doorbell rang again. He threw open the door and glared at the guy standing there, totally unaware that he’d just cock-blocked Grant.

  “I’ve got a Bear Lakes pizza,” the guy said, holding out the box.

  Grant grabbed it while Stacey shoved some bills out. “Here. Keep the change.”

  With the door firmly closed behind them, she led the way to the kitchen. “Wow. Smells good. I hope they remembered to leave off the mushrooms. I never did like those on my pizza. I don’t think most places know how to cook them right. Either that or they use canned mushrooms. I don’t like canned mushrooms.”

  She was babbling, stringing words together, filling the silence with anything that would distract herself from facing what was in front of her. He’d seen it all before.

  “Go ahead and set that down, and I’ll get the plates.”

  To hell with this.

  She opened a cabinet, and he quickly slammed it shut and held it in place. The face she turned to him held a mixture of confusion and something else, something unidentifiable, yet sparked an answering response inside him. She was sweetness and passion and desire all melded together into one amazing woman.

  He was acting on instinct, he knew, and he also knew that he could be wrong. But, damn it, they’d been dancing around this “thing” between them long enough.

  “Grant?”

  Her confusion was his advantage. He pulled Stacey close, saw the moment her confusion morphed into desire.

  “If you don’t want this, tell me now.” His voice was gruff, demanding, driven by a need so intense he wasn’t sure he could contain it.

  A soft smile curved her lips, the perfect contrast to the hard edge of his control. Stacey pulled his head down to hers and rose onto her toes.

  Finally…

  He relished her soft sighs and moans, and nibbled his way down the side of her neck. Her moans grew louder when he reached a particularly sensitive spot. Hmm. He needed to catalog the location for future reference.

  He wasn’t sure when it happened or how it happened, but at some point, it registered that he had her pinned up against the refrigerator, her kisses now deeper, more insistent, more demanding. And, God help him, he was more than happy to give in to her wishes, her desires.

  Because tonight would be all about her.

  Chapter Eleven

  The refrigerator. She was pinned between Grant’s hard body and the smooth front of the refrigerator. Excitement raced through her as his mouth plundered, retreated, then plundered again. It was an assault on her senses like no other, a sweet devotion and a demanding master all at the same time. And Stacey loved every second of it.

  She moaned and tightened her arms around his neck, shifted her hips, then wrapped a leg around one of his. All the while his kisses engulfed her, creating a haze so sweet that the spot between her legs throbbed. Slowly, she ground herself against him, sensations ripping through her with each move up and down, up and down, craving the friction, craving the intensity, wanting more.

  Dear God, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this turned on. She just wanted to feel, to savor this moment.

  “You enjoying yourself there, baby doll? I promise there’re even better ways of making you feel good.”

  The whispered words brushed against her like a caress, and the pressure between her legs increased, making her move her hips even more. “Yeah? What did you— Oh…”

  Cupping her bottom, he raised her off the floor and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He pressed her hard against him, creating a sensation so erotic that she threw her head back, her moans edging higher.

  He chuckled, then pressed harder against her. “Yeah. I’m guessing you like this, huh?” Then the kisses started again before she could decipher his words, let alone answer. This time he began on the side of her neck, pleasure tripping through her from the contact of his rough beard. Her nipples tightened and the hard bud between her legs throbbed.

  Stacey gasped and ground herself against his thick ridge. “Well, what do we have here?” He was hard. Incredibly large.

  “If you don’t know, I’m not sure I should be the one to tell you.”

  He licked the sensitive spot on the side of her neck, sending a tide of electrical pulses through her. The tingles multiplied into a thousand points of light coursing through every part of her, making her hypersensitive, leaving her wanting.

  “Grant.” She angled her neck, silently inviting him to continue to explore, to learn her body, learn what she liked, in the same way she intended to learn his.

  He groaned. “I’m so fucking turned on.”

  His words torched a path through her, so much so that she wanted to do as much for him as he was doing for her. This she liked. This she could do. It was a rush of feminine power, a heady sensation of knowing she was in control and didn’t have plans to stop anytime soon.

  “You’re killing me here,” he whispered, his hips connecting with hers in a slow, sensual grind.

  She nipped at the side of his neck and was rewarded with another groan. Her skin tingled, each nerve ending prickling with intensity, wanting more, ready for more. He was so strong, yet so gentle, holding her against him like she was the most precious thing in the world. Like she was cherished.

  Movement registered a split second later, and she tightened her legs around his waist. “Where are we going?”

  “Bedroom.”

  “Too far away.” She wanted him here, now.

  “Uh-uh. I’m taking you where I know you’ll be comfortable.”

  Another round of warmth enveloped her. “You’re incredible, you know.”

  He chuckled. “And I haven’t even started yet.”

  They crossed the doorway and toward her bed. Thank God she’d forgotten to turn off the lamp when she grabbed the laptop. The last thing she wanted to do was poke a sensitive spot because the blackout curtains were drawn.

  His eyes turned
serious as he knelt on her bed and laid her down. Then his hands got busy. Super busy. He ran his fingers down her sides, slowly, erotically, until he reached the hem of her T-shirt. “This is your last chance to back out, Stace.”

  He’d do it, too, even though she could see the effort it would cost him. “I thought we crossed that bridge a while ago.” Her gaze locked with his and she reached a hand to his face. “Don’t you dare stop.”

  “Not a chance.” He tugged the shirt over her head but stopped short of removing it completely. His eyes narrowed slightly and his breathing shallowed.

  Ever since that night, Stacey had caved to her desire to wear the prettiest bra and panty sets she owned. They made her feel feminine and sexy, even underneath a T-shirt and jeans. Tonight was no exception. Thank God. The pink demi-bra pushed her breasts up and made them seem bigger, fuller, making it one of her favorites.

  “Beautiful.” His voice was tinged with awe.

  The word fueled the pleasure already unleashed inside her. It was honest, romantic even. Then he reached a hand out to cup first one breast then the other, and she sat up farther, bit down on her bottom lip and pushed into him. He skimmed a thumb over a nipple, and underneath the sheer lace, it puckered. She gasped, leaned back, and closed her eyes, sensuality washing over her while his mouth and hands skimmed over her body.

  The electric pulses were in full force, tingling through her with each pass of his hands, each lick on her breasts, her neck, her lips. And all she could do was lie back and take it in, enjoy the exquisite sensations of her body humming to life. She squirmed, wanting the release, aching for what she knew would eventually be hers.

  Wordlessly, Grant leaned over and nuzzled the space between her breasts, then turned to one side, licking his way toward the point and capturing the lace-covered tip in his mouth.

  “Oh, God.”

  He chuckled. “You like that.”

  “Don’t you?” she gasped.

  “More than you know.” As if to prove it, he lowered his head once more, this time teasing his way through the valley between her breasts, not quite touching each peak.

  She groaned and wriggled her hands, still effectively trapped in her shirt. “Not fair.” She gasped the words out, her body giving in to the moment, to the spell that seemed to have been cast around them.

  He licked and sucked, alternating pressure, keeping her off-balanced.

  “Grant.”

  He seemed intent on ignoring her, his mouth working its magic against her sensitized skin.

  “Grant, please,” she gasped again.

  “Please what?” he asked, pulling away and undoing the front clasp on her bra. He gazed into her eyes. “Maybe this is how I like you.”

  She tilted her head and caught a glimpse of her shirt, his hand effectively holding it in place. “With my hands above my head so you have to do all the work?”

  “I promise this isn’t work. This is play.”

  “Maybe I wanna play, too.”

  “You’ll get your chance. But, me first.” Still, he released his hold on her hands and pulled the shirt completely off.

  Stacey didn’t waste time sitting up and shrugging off her bra before tugging at the hem of his T-shirt. “I think this has to go.”

  “You got something against ZZ Top?” he asked. “This is one of my favorite shirts.”

  “I know that, but right now, it’s covering up something I’ve wanted to get a good look at for days now. Mmmm…nice,” she said, once the shirt was off. She splayed her hands over his chest, relished the light dusting of hair. “But I want to see more.”

  He responded to the slight push she gave him, turning and shifting until he was on his back. She scrambled to her knees, trailed her fingers over his chest and toward the top of his jeans.

  Her heart hammered. She wanted this, wanted him. Once she undid the button, she leaned forward, planting a kiss at the band as she slowly dragged the zipper down.

  Pulling back, she stared at the strain against his underwear. “Looks like you’re ready to play.”

  “Maybe you should take a closer look. You know, just to be sure.”

  She grinned. “Good point.”

  Off came the jeans and boxer briefs, and it was all Stacey could do to contain herself. Magnificent. Impressive. Hers.

  She lowered her head and lightly brushed her mouth against his thick erection, then blew a stream of warm air over him. He was all musky male, the tip of his cock with its drop of pre-cum beckoning her closer.

  She positioned herself between his legs and rubbed her hands over the sensitive flesh on either side of his straining cock. Glancing up, she caught his gaze, lowered her head, and swirled her tongue around him.

  He moaned, the sound fueling her own moans of appreciation, but it wasn’t long before he clasped her face with both hands, effectively stilling her. “Stacey.” Her name seemed torn from him. “Stop or I’m going to lose it.”

  She licked her lips. “We wouldn’t want that.”

  “No, we wouldn’t.” He sat up and gazed into her eyes, the simple connection instilling a deeper, stronger sense of trust. But it’d always been this way with Grant, hadn’t it? She trusted him more than she’d trusted anyone else in her life.

  He kissed her, then, his touch so erotic on her sensitive skin while he laid her back and worked his way down her oh-so-willing body. She closed her eyes, reveling in the contact, anticipating more. She was so attuned to the hum of her body, to the way he skillfully played his hands over her, to how he had her fully undressed before the thought even registered.

  It didn’t take long for him to be between her legs, thank God, but he didn’t exactly dive in right away, either. Instead he ran light circles on the insides of her thighs, then lowered his head.

  Stacey held her breath, the seconds drifting by into what she was sure was a full-on minute. “Grant.” Yeah, there was desperation in her voice, and she reached for his head, wanting so badly to pull him into position.

  “Yeah?”

  “Grant, please.” She was panting, her breaths coming hard and fast.

  “Please what?”

  She raised her hips, anticipation building. He blew a warm breath over her core, then nuzzled her, teased her so that when he finally flicked his tongue over her, she arched off the bed, sure she’d combust into a heap of want, of need. “God, yes,” she moaned, her hands automatically reaching out to hold his head in place.

  The insistent pressure of his mouth, of his fingers working in rhythm with each pass of his tongue… The combination had her pressing her heels into the mattress as the tension built inside. God, he was good, taking her right to the brink as if he knew how badly she needed the release. And then it finally ripped through her in a powerful rush, pulses of light flashing behind her closed eyes.

  When the world slowed, he pushed himself off of her.

  “Grant?”

  “Condom.” His gaze was desperate. “Please tell me you have some.”

  “In the bathroom, second drawer down.”

  Fortunately, it wasn’t long before he was back.

  She raised up on one elbow and grinned. “The whole box? Kind of ambitious, aren’t you?”

  He pulled out a packet and ripped it open. “I like being prepared.” He rolled the condom on and positioned himself over her, then stroked her face with the back of his hand, his touch so gentle that her heart ached. “I think this was where we left off.”

  The kiss he gave her was as gentle as his touch, but that wasn’t what Stacey needed. She wanted it hard and fast. With sure movements she stroked his tongue again, captured it between her teeth and sucked, did her damnedest to show him what she wanted. Now.

  Without breaking the kiss, Grant settled the tip of his cock at her entrance, and in one hard thrust he was inside her.

  She gasped at the pure pleasure of it, of the feel of him filling her completely before he pulled back. He plunged into her again and rotated his hips. Tension built, heightened her
senses, her awareness, the feelings too intense, too powerful to ignore. “Oh, God.”

  “That’s it,” he coaxed. “Let go.”

  Like anything could stop her at this point. The man did incredible things with his hips, varying his thrusts so he held her on the edge of anticipation each time he pulled back.

  She couldn’t fight it any longer, couldn’t prolong the inevitable, didn’t want to.

  The world tilted, flashing a kaleidoscope of vivid colors. She arched toward him, her groan mingling with his as he followed her over the edge.

  Chapter Twelve

  Grant pulled Stacey to him, held her tight as their breathing slowed and they drifted back to earth. A thin sheen of sweat covered their bodies and it wasn’t long before she shivered against him. Without a word he turned them both until she lay beside him.

  He gently eased out of her, and her eyes opened. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be back. Let me take care of this.” But somehow he couldn’t move. There was something about the moment, something about her gaze latched onto his that made him stop, made him want to assure her that he truly would be back. And he wanted, he needed, to know she was okay with it. Only when she nodded did he break contact.

  By the time he returned, Stacey was underneath the covers. Too bad she couldn’t sit naked. He liked her that way. A lot.

  “Hey,” he said, the bed shifting under his weight.

  “Mmmm…hey.” She scooted over onto her side and laid her face on the pillow.

  “You look spent, kind of like you…maybe enjoyed that.” He grinned. It didn’t take a scientist to figure that out, not when the smile on her face bloomed. She had a nice smile, a pretty smile, one that he’d grown accustomed to seeing over the years, but had he really seen it?

  “I don’t know.” She turned her head and captured his gaze. “Seems to me you need more practice.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Well, yeah.” She raised up onto her elbows, a mischievous light in her eyes that matched the whisper of a smile on her face. “That’s the only way to get to perfect, don’t you think?”

  Another time, another place, this kind of banter with Stacey would’ve been normal. But after sex? In his experience most of the women he dated wanted to be cuddled, not get into a verbal sparring match. It was…refreshing.