by Amy Brent
He gave Jason a dirty look. “Get lost and quit bothering Abigail,” he said sternly.
Jason scowled, but he left. Unfortunately, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time I saw him.
My knees felt weak with relief when he left, though, and I leaned into Ian’s arms for a second. “Thanks,” I said quietly.
Ian wrapped his arms around me, kissing my hair. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
I snorted at the term of endearment and pulled away. “Are you done for the day?” I asked. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was worried that if I walked outside by myself right now, Jason would be right there waiting for me.
Fortunately, Ian glanced at the calendar behind the counter and nodded. “Yeah. That was my last client for today,” he said. “Let me go shower and change. I’ll meet you out here in fifteen minutes.”
“Take your time,” I told him, flushing at the thought of him showering.
Ian smirked at me, like he knew exactly what I was thinking, but he opted not to tease me. Instead, he headed off toward the locker rooms, emerging a little while later in fresh clothes, his keys in hand. “All right, let’s go,” he said. As we walked home, he put an arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him, thinking about how safe I felt.
Chapter 8
Ian
I was kind of dreading Friday night. Zach had asked me to go to the bar with him and Mikayla. I knew he was plotting to set me up with someone again. He meant well; he just didn’t want me to be lonely. He had Mikayla, and he wanted to make sure I had someone as well. But I wished he would ease off.
It wasn’t like I could use the fake engagement excuse tonight, either. I didn’t think Zach would appreciate it if he heard I was using Abigail to keep the ladies away from me, and I doubted she had told Zach about the whole Jason thing.
What a creep. I couldn’t believe he had followed her to the gym the previous day. I wanted to ask Abigail why she didn’t just get a restraining order against him, but I wasn’t sure how to approach the subject, and I didn’t want to upset her.
Anyway, I kind of liked the way Abigail had come to me for help, regardless of the circumstances. It was an added bonus to get to kiss her again.
I shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like that, but I couldn’t seem to quit thinking about her. I wanted her. I wanted her in the kitchen, in the living room, in my bed. Anywhere I could have her, I wanted her. Maybe I did just need to get laid. Maybe it was my libido talking, reminding me that I hadn’t had a one-night stand in a while.
I wanted to tear all her clothes off, plunge my dick deep inside her, and make her scream in ecstasy. I imagined she looked at me the same way. Our fingers sometimes brushed as she passed me the milk in the morning after pouring some into her bowl of cereal, and all I could think about was taking her right there on the kitchen floor. Or else she’d hand me the mail in the front hall, and I’d think about how she would look bent over the hall table as I fucked her from behind.
I’d always thought she was pretty, but now that I’d seen her naked, I realized how sexy she was without her clothes on, and I just couldn’t get enough of her. But, of course, I couldn’t act on that.
What I could do, however, was invite her out to the bar with Zach and Mikayla that night.
Abigail’s brow furrowed when I asked her. “Are you sure?” she asked.
I raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like you’ve never hung out with Zach and I before,” I pointed out. “Anyway, I don’t want to third wheel the two of them, and I don’t want Zach to think he can set me up with anyone. I don’t feel like playing that game tonight.”
“You’re not going to tell him that we’re engaged, are you?” she asked.
“Of course not,” I said, laughing. “Your brother would kill me.”
“Probably,” she agreed. She shook her head. “That’s part of why I didn’t want to move in with Zach and Mikayla. I didn’t want to be the third wheel.”
I didn’t mention that I didn’t think her brother would have let her move in with him even if she’d wanted to. That was none of my business. “Come on, let’s go,” I told her. “It’ll be fun. I’ll buy your drinks and everything.”
“Well, when you put it like that, I guess I have to go,” Abigail said, giggling.
We went to this great little dive bar halfway between our place and Zach’s place. It was one of those places that did karaoke at least three nights a week, plus there was an old beat-up car in the middle of the bar and too many weird signature drinks to name. But the drinks were cheap, the music, when it wasn’t karaoke night, was decent, and the location was convenient for all of us.
“Hey, Brittany actually lives right around the corner,” Abigail said in surprise as we arrived. “Would you mind if I invited her out as well?”
“That’d be fun,” Ian said. “I haven’t seen her in forever.”
Abigail gave me a look, and I almost wondered if she thought I wanted to sleep with Brittany, too. I couldn’t think of a way to assure her that I definitely did not without embarrassing her. She quickly typed out a message to her friend, and I led her inside and over to the bar.
“What do you want?” I asked over the music blaring from the speakers.
“A red rover,” she said, picking one of the drinks off the menu. “Hey, there are Zach and Mikayla, back in that booth.”
“Why don’t you go sit down?” I suggested. “I’ll bring over the drinks.”
“Thanks,” she said, and for a moment, she stood slightly taller, like she might kiss me. Then she seemed to remember herself and moved quickly toward the booth in the back.
I counted to ten in my head while I waited for our drinks, trying not to think any more dirty thoughts about her. Otherwise, it was going to be impossible to sit next to her in that booth. Already, I was thinking about sliding my fingers beneath her skirt and making her squirm right there at the table.
But not with her brother sitting across from us.
Brittany showed up before long. “How come no one invited me to the party until the last minute?” she asked jokingly, sliding into the booth next to Mikayla and Zach and smiling over at Abigail and me.
I slid out of the booth and stood up. “You can sit next to Abigail,” I offered.
“Oh no, you have a seat,” Brittany said, smiling around the mouth of her beer as though she knew something I didn’t.
I glanced over at Abigail, wondering what she had told Brittany. Did she know about the fake engagement maybe? I was surprised Abigail had told her, but she had probably just done it so Brittany wouldn’t be surprised if she overheard something between her best friend and Jason.
We had quite a few drinks each, talking about work and our lives. Brittany told us about running into Dave Juliano, one of the guys from the same class as Zach and me. “He’s just as weird as ever,” she said with a chuckle, telling us all about his job at the movie theater and how he’d asked her out.
“So, how’s living with my best friend?” Zach asked finally, staring at Abigail.
Abigail shrugged. “He’s very…clean,” she said finally, pausing in the middle like she wasn’t sure what to say. She glanced at me and then away, her fingers tapping on the stem of her glass.
It got a laugh out of Zach, though. “He must be on his best behavior since you just moved in,” he told her. “I remember living with the guy during college, and it looked like a tornado had gone off in his room!”
“Hey!” I said, even though I couldn’t really be offended. Instead, I laughed. “I’ve changed a bit since college.”
“You have,” Zach acknowledged, nodding his head at me. There was a wicked look in his eyes. “Actually, I’m shocked at the difference. There are three hot girls on the dance floor right now, totally your type, and you’re not chasing them!”
“Are you scoping out girls right next to me?” Mikayla said, but she didn’t seem to really mind.
Zach kissed her soundly on the lips, making up for it.
Abiga
il looked questioningly over at me, like she thought I might make a beeline for the supposedly hot girls. I was content to stay where I was, my thigh pressed up against hers. Actually, I wanted to touch her more, but I was holding myself back. Her brother was right here, and anyway, with as dirty as my thoughts had become, I didn’t think I should touch her more in public or else things down there might become problematic.
I was already half hard, thinking about how much I’d like to excuse the two of us, take her into a bathroom stall, and just have my way with her. It would be all I could do to tug my pants and her panties out of the way before fucking her, one hand over her mouth to keep her from crying out and giving us away.
Mikayla stood up, and Zach was quick to follow. “I think it’s time we headed home for the night,” she said, and from the look she was giving Zach, I could tell that she was about as turned on as I was, except she got to go home and actually have the person she wanted. I couldn’t do anything about my lust for Abigail.
We said our good-byes, and then we sat there for a minute in the booth, the three of us. Brittany was looking knowingly at Abigail and me. “Don’t the two of you make such a cute couple,” she said, smirking.
Abigail choked on her drink, glancing over at me, her face beet red and guilty. “We’re not a couple,” she said, sounding upset.
Brittany raised an eyebrow. “Jeez, I’m just teasing,” she said, handing Abigail a napkin. But there was something in her eyes that told me she wasn’t really.
I took another sip of my drink, wondering what exactly Brittany thought she knew about Abigail and me. Had Abigail said something to her? Something about liking me maybe? Or could she tell how much I wanted Abigail? Had she noticed how I could barely keep my eyes off the woman the whole night?
“Anyway, I should head out, too,” Brittany said. “I’ll leave you lovebirds in peace.”
“We’re not lovebirds,” Abigail said, scowling at her friend. But then she glanced over at me and started cracking up. “I did ask him to be my fake fiancé, though.”
Brittany snorted. “Figures,” she said. Then she frowned. “Does that mean Jason still isn’t leaving you alone, though? What an asshole.”
“He told me he’s changed,” Abigail said, rolling her eyes to show what she thought about that. “I swear, he’s even more of a dick now than he was when I was dating him.”
“I don’t know,” Brittany said, giggling. “He was kind of a dick while you were dating him, too. You just didn’t realize it.”
“Really?” Abigail asked in surprise. “I mean, he was cheating on me, but I thought you guys liked him.”
“No,” Brittany said, shaking her head.
“Never liked the guy,” I told her, putting my arm on the back of the booth and trying not to drop it onto Abigail’s shoulders like I really wanted to.
“Oh,” Abigail said, frowning. Then she grinned and shrugged. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m with someone better now then! Even if it’s just a fake engagement.” She put her hand on my chest, and I could feel the warmth of it through my shirt.
“I think someone might have had a few too many,” Brittany said, looking amused. “It’s a good thing your brother isn’t here; I don’t know what Zach would have to say about the two of you.”
I ducked my head in chagrin, but Brittany didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she stood up. “All right, I’m heading home. You two have a good night.”
Abigail turned anxiously toward me as her friend left the bar. “Sorry. Was that too obvious?” she asked, and somehow, despite the dim lighting of the bar, all I could notice was how shockingly green her worried eyes looked.
It took me a moment to respond. “I think it was fine,” I told her, clearing my throat. “I don’t think Zach noticed anything.”
“Good,” Abigail said, sighing and slumping back. “He already thinks I’m being so irresponsible.”
“And dating me would be even more irresponsible?” I asked, not sure whether I was amused or annoyed. I’d definitely had one too many drinks. Maybe more than one.
Abigail looked at me with round eyes. “No!” she said quickly. “But we’re not dating, and we’re living together, so wouldn’t sleeping with you be…irresponsible?” She was uncertain, and we were probably both too drunk to be having this conversation.
A moment later, she giggled. “Not that I’m thinking of sleeping with you or anything.”
“You’re not?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure?”
“Only because you’re thinking about sleeping with me,” she said. “You’re the one who keeps kissing me.”
I leaned in close so that I could whisper in her ear, my hand resting high on her thigh. “Do you want me to stop?”
I could tell from her full-body shiver that she didn’t.
I stood up. “Come on. We should get home,” I told her, holding out a hand to help her up. She nodded seriously at me, following mutely alongside me.
Back at the apartment, we were barely inside the front door before I was on her, kissing her. It was like there were magnets in our lips, dragging us together. I pushed her back against the wall, needing to press close to her, needing to feel her heat, her desire.
The kiss was sloppy but unhurried. We’d been waiting all night for this, but now it was just the two of us. She clung to the lapels of my jacket while I dropped my hands down to her waist. I was already hard, and I knew she could feel me pressed up against her hip. She gave in to me like it was all she knew how to do, and all the rest of it, all the indecision, melted away. Her brother, our living arrangement—none of that mattered right now. We needed this.
I pulled back for a second, staring down into those bewitchingly green eyes. I remembered what she had said before, about how I was the one who was always kissing her. I wanted to make sure we were on the same page, but based on the look in her eyes, she wanted this just as badly as I did. A slow smile spread across my face, and I bent down to kiss her again. She didn’t stop me.
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Copyright © 2018 Amy Brent – All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. While, as in all fiction, the literary perceptions and insights are based on life experiences and conclusions drawn from research, all names, characters, places and specific instances are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. No actual reference to any real person, living or dead, is intended or inferred.
