Friends with Benefits

by Amy Brent

  But I wanted to go for it. As I sat down on the couch and sank into the cushions, I imagined I could feel his lips on my neck and his hands on my hips. I could feel the way he pressed me into the wall and hooked his gaze onto mine, going slowly as his dick felt every single part of my walls. Even now, I shivered in my seat at the thought of having him again. Of tasting his dick on my tongue and feeling him pour himself into me time and time again.

  And the bit of attention he showed me afterward was a nice touch.

  If we could avoid the press, no one had to know about it. My boss couldn’t use it to manipulate the show, and no scandals would be spun in the media to tarnish my name. We could simply enjoy each other’s presence and what we both had to bring to the table. Then, we could go about our lives as successful, independent business owners.

  So, instead of waiting until tomorrow to give him his answer, I called him right there in my dressing room.

  “Wow,” he said as he picked up.

  “What?” I asked, giggling.

  “I never would’ve imagined seeing your name scroll across my phone. Ever. I figured I’d have to call you four times tomorrow before you picked up simply because you pitied me.”

  “That’s what happens when you’re pity-worthy,” I said, laughing.

  “So, to what do I owe this pleasurable phone call?”

  “I’ve been thinking about your proposal.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And I’ve come to a conclusion,” I said, grinning.

  “Wonderful. Lay it on me.”

  “Honestly? I’d rather sit down and talk about it. I think it would help us both to get a clearer understanding of what is actually about to take place.”

  “Ah, a face-to-face conversation. Can I get you to promise me you won’t run for the hills the second it becomes a bit too intense for you?” he asked.

  “I can’t promise anything other than we’ll have an adult conversation about an adult topic. From there, it all depends on where you want to lay your hat.”

  “Intriguing. Okay. I’ll bite. Why don’t you come over to my place once you’ve wrapped up for the day? We can discuss it. Maybe over a glass of wine?”

  “Sounds phenomenal. Just give me a minute to wind down from my interview, and I’ll head on over.”

  “Rough day at the office?” he asked.

  “The interview went a little sideways, yes.”

  “What happened?”

  “How familiar are you with how Dallas works?” I asked.

  “Not really. Enlighten me.”

  “There’s a string of clubs in the area. Very popular with the college kids. They’re wanting to expand into a more upscale area, however. They’re keeping the same clubs open, but doing them up a bit differently, I guess you could say.”

  “Renovating,” he said.

  “You could call it that. They aren’t rebranding, just outfitting the buildings to fit another target audience. Men like yourself, I would think.”

  “All right. So, how did the interview go sideways?” he asked.

  “I asked him if it would be smarter to open a new place and start that arena fresh instead of trying to rebrand the old buildings. He pulls in a great deal of money from the college crowd. He could easily step into both arenas and double what he pulls every year.”

  “I take it he didn’t like the suggestion?”

  “I believe his words were, ‘If I wanted a woman’s opinion, I would’ve employed one.’ ”

  “Whoa! Please tell me you’re going to air that. I want to see it.”

  “Oh, it’ll be aired. We only edit the shows if they’re pretaped.”

  “Like the one that interrupted us yesterday?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, giggling. “Like those ones.”

  “Well, I’m looking forward to your response as well as the social media outrage that’ll occur,” he said.

  “Anyway, give me some time and then I’ll be over.”

  “See you soon, gorgeous.”

  I smiled at his words as I hung up the phone. I put myself together a little bit and swapped out the heavy on-set makeup for something a little more modest. I shook my hair out, giving it some volume before I grabbed my things and headed to my car. Thirty minutes later, I was knocking on his door, and when he opened his home up to me, a glass of wine was thrust immediately to my hand.

  “Shall you join me on our couch?” he asked.

  “Our couch, hm? Sounds so permanent.”

  “Well, we are the only two that have sat on it, and it’s the only piece of furniture besides the table we enjoy.”

  “And the bedroom,” I said, grinning.

  “I take it the answer to my proposal is a positive one,” he said as we sat down.

  “It is. I think you’ll enjoy the answer. But, it comes with a condition.”

  “Most wonderful things do. What is your condition?”

  “Emma can’t find out.”

  I saw him stare at me for quite some time before he took a sip of his wine. We both stared out the window, sipping on our glasses in silence. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but the silence was deafening to my ears. My mind was screaming for him to answer. To say something. To pounce my body. To do anything in this awkward space and time where I’d just admitted keeping something from my best friend.

  “That’s fine with me,” he said.

  “Wonderful.”

  “However, I’m concerned it eventually won’t be okay with you.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I don’t know much about you, or maybe I know too much, I’m not sure. But I do know you care about Emma.”

  “Your sister.”

  “Yes. And I know you hate lying. We’re already dodging the press, and I know that worries you. Us getting caught. Are you willing to add another person you have to dodge to the pot? Someone you confide in and trust?”

  “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d care,” I said.

  “I usually don’t. But in this case, if it’s going to be an ongoing thing, it’s natural to do a risk assessment. Keeping something from your best friend—”

  “We’re not referring to her as ‘your sister’, are we?” I asked.

  “Not really. That adds another risk. Another risk we both need to take into consideration. I’m willing to do it, but you have to communicate with me. If it becomes too much to juggle, running from the press and dodging your best friend, then you have to tell me. It’s no fun when only one party is enjoying themselves.”

  “I completely agree. Lines of communication totally open. That goes for you, too,” I said.

  “I believe I’ve shown you I have no issues with communicating.”

  “This is very true,” I said, sighing.

  Just then, my phone rang. I took another sip of my wine as I reached down and silenced it. I wanted to enjoy this time with Mason. This time, where we were actually talking like adults instead of fucking like teenagers. We both sat and enjoyed the sunset as we finished our glasses of wine, and he plucked mine from my fingers before he got up from the couch.

  “Refill?” he asked.

  “I’d love one,” I said.

  But then, my phone rang again.

  “Answer that,” he said.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “Just make sure. We’re both business owners. Maybe it’s work,” he said.

  He stood in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest, and for a split second, I couldn’t breathe. His icy gaze was intense, and his arms were flexed. It took all the composure I had left in my body to not stride over to him and throw my body on top of his.

  I pulled my phone from my purse, looked at the name, and immediately I felt my face pale.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “It’s Emma,” I said as I answered the phone. “Emma. Are you all—wait, wait. I can’t. Emma, take a deep breath.”

  I saw Mason move out of the corner of my eye. His hand
s were down by his sides, and his shoulders were rolled back. He was posturing for a fight, like someone had just hurt his friend. Or his love. Or his child.

  Or his sister.

  “Hey, hey. Emma, it’s going to be all right, okay? I’m out of town right now, but I’m turning the car around.”

  I locked eyes with Mason and sighed. I hung up the phone with Emma and rose to my feet, secretly disappointed I had to leave so soon.

  “I’m so sorry, Mason. But Emma’s—”

  “Is she all right?” he asked.

  “She’s had this on-again-off-again idiotic boyfriend bullshit. Apparently, he’s engaged now? Or something? Even though they went out on a date two weeks ago. I don’t know.

  She’s an absolute wreck. In her car and had to pull over because she can’t see. I have to go. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. Let me know when you touchdown safely in town.”

  “I will this time,” I said.

  He walked me to the door, and I mindlessly lifted to my toes and kissed his cheek. My lips lingered a bit longer than they should have, drinking up his warmth as his hand smoothed along my lower back. Our eyes connected one last time before I started to my car, and he leaned up against the banister of his porch until I was out of sight down the road.

  Even as I rode into town on my white horse for my best friend, I couldn’t wait to see him again. The anticipation of what I’d just agreed to was mounting, and I could feel the unused sexual energy coursing through my system. I got home and held Emma all night while she cried, letting her bitch about her pathetic ex while we drank disgusting cocktails and passed out on the couch.

  And he was there in my dreams, his lips grazing my stomach as my skin tingled at his presence.

  Chapter 20

  Mason

  I was ecstatic about being fuck buddies with Sarah. She was an easy flight from L.A., which meant she was never more than couple hours away from sitting on my cock. Her luscious curves and her beautiful tits were mine for the taking whenever I wanted, and all weekend, I jerked my cock to her memory. I knew she was dealing with some emotional bullshit from Emma, but I also knew the moment she wrapped it up with her, she’d be running back to me.

  Finally, some sense had been knocked into that woman.

  We would both get what we want without the shitty emotions that always screwed people over in the end. I got her body, her attention, and her mind, and she got my body, my good cooking, and anything she could ever want me to buy her. I had plans to shower her with everything and ruin her for any other man who might want her. I wanted to set the standard in her life that every other man would pale in comparison to.

  Ruining a woman like Sarah Williams for the masses made me salivate.

  I stayed by my phone all weekend, hoping she’d call. I sent her a few text messages and got clipped responses, and I found myself missing her. I wanted her to be here with me, drinking wine and moaning over how good my food was. I didn’t want her traipsing around downtown Dallas trying to make someone feel better.

  I wanted her here in my arms.

  She was so down to earth. She didn’t try to be someone she wasn’t. She was forward, always expected the truth, and always questioned the order of things. She was a self-made woman with a drive to survive and succeed, and I could relate to that. She wanted to educate and make people’s lives easier, and I could relate to that. Her banter and the way she didn’t treat me like I was royalty was also intriguing. It was like my money had absolutely no effect on her at all. Out of all the things that could have impressed her, my money seemed to do that the least.

  And I found that I enjoyed that.

  We also had a great deal in common, at least with our family situations. She understood my emotions toward it. She understood what it felt like to have a mother abandon her. She knew what it felt like to be screwed over by family and to be taken advantage of when it came to her money. It’s probably why she treated me the way she did.

  Because she understood.

  Honestly, the more I thought about it, the more I really did enjoy her company. Even though I didn’t get to seat myself between her perfect thighs, I still enjoyed the talk we had before she had to rush out after Emma.

  That was the real issue, keeping this from Emma.

  Shit. I’d fucking blown off Emma.

  I needed to call her. I knew what it felt like to get nothing but bullshit from women in my life, and she didn’t deserve the crap that was being thrown her way. I didn’t know the story, but I didn’t want to be that same kind of man in her life. I had to make it clear to her that I wasn’t ready to rekindle things with Mom. That I didn’t want to talk about it. But I’m sure there were other things we could talk about, right?

  Just not Sarah. We couldn’t talk about Sarah.

  I picked up my cell phone and scrolled through to her number. Before I knew what was doing, I had the phone to my ear, listening to the ringing of the phone as I waited for Emma to pick up. I didn’t know what was going to be said or if she’d even take my phone call, but what I did know was that I had to at least try.

  After all, Sarah was disgusted with me when she found out who I was, and there was something inside that didn’t sit right when I thought about that.

  “Hello?” she asked.

  “Emma? Hey. It’s, um, it’s Mason.”

  “I know. Why are you calling?” she asked.

  “Look. I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy with the business and stuff going on here in Dallas and I …”

  “You what?”

  “I was wondering if you’d let me make it up to you,” I said.

  There was a silence on the other end of the phone that threatened to choke off my air supply. Never in my life had a woman made me so nervous. I got up out of bed and paced the floor, drawing in deep breaths through my nose as I tried to calm the trembling in my hands.

  If Tony could have seen me at that moment, he would’ve never let me live it down.

  “Sure. I guess that’s fine,” she said.

  “Wonderful. Thank you, Emma. When are you free? I’ll make myself available.”

  “The only night I’m free is Wednesday, technically, but even if we met up I’d be with my best friend.”

  “You’ll be with Sarah?” I asked.

  “You know Sarah?” she asked.

  “I, uh, I watch her show. At least I started watching after I was interviewed there. She’s mentioned you a couple times on the show.”

  I cringed, hoping to the heavens I hadn’t spoiled everything. I heard Emma take a deep breath before she let it out, sighing into the phone as I sat on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m not a really good friend, I guess. I don’t watch her show.”

  “Well, I didn’t interact with her for long, but she strikes me as the kind of person who wouldn’t care about that.”

  “Yeah. There isn’t much she cares about, but when she cares, it’s fierce.”

  “Sounds like a good friend,” I said.

  “You should come out with us Wednesday night. I’m sure she’d enjoy seeing you again. Did the interview go all right?” she asked.

  “Oh, no. I don’t want to barge in. You free any other night?”

  “Mason, you blew me off. Just come out with us. I’d like it if you met her anyway. You know, outside of her work. She really is a wonderful person, even if she digs her heels in sometimes.”

  Shit. What the hell had I gotten myself into? This was going to be a lot harder than I thought it was going to be.

  “Sure. Yeah. You just let me know when and where you guys will be on Wednesday night, and I’ll meet up with you. Under one condition.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, sighing.

  “No talk about Mom. I’m not ready to open that up with you yet,” I said.

  “Okay. I’ll try. I will. But you know she—”

  “Emma,” I said.

  “Sorry. Okay. I’ll see you Wednesday, then. I’ll, um, text you? The detai
ls later?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

  I hung up the phone and immediately called Sarah. She was going to have my head for this. Holy shit, she was going to be pissed.

  “Hey there, handsome,” she said.

  “We have a slight mishap I might’ve wiggled us into.”

  “Us? What do you mean by us?” she asked.

  “So, you have this way of sort of rubbing off on people.”

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “I might have called Emma to try and reconcile. You know, make up for blowing her off.”

  “Wait. You did what? That-that’s awesome! Oh, that must be while she’s calling me. Hold on.”

  “Wait, wait, wait! Sarah! No. Hold on. Just call her back.”

  “Mason, what’s going on?”

  I’d never lost my cool with a woman like this before. Holy fuck, what was happening to me?

  “In our reconciliation promise, I told her I wanted to take her out to make up for the lost dinner. She said the only night she had free was Wednesday.”