A Very Friendly Valentine's Day

by Kayley Loring

  My body is ready.

  I’ll worry about my heart and my brain tomorrow.

  16

  Eddie

  The One with Dirty Birdie

  I will be giving this train five-star glowing reviews all over the Internet. I will tip Nancy with all of my cash. I will even tip Gavin the conductor.

  But more importantly, I am going to give Nerdy Birdie the ride of her life.

  I’ll start slow, though.

  She is so damn stunning. Lying naked beneath me as I straddle her. She’s touching her puffy lips with the fingers of one hand, twisting loose strands of hair around the fingers of the other, the way she does when she’s reading a book. I am a very open book right now. A filthy one. Except she still refuses to look me in my eyes so they can tell her exactly what I’m feeling. I want her to look at me. I want her to read me.

  It’s pretty dark, but I can see her. She is staring at my chest, which is fine. It’s a good area to focus on when trying to avoid my eyes and monster erection. But I need her to get used to seeing me hover over her like this, aching for her. If I have my way, I will be doing this a lot from now on. And I’ll have my way.

  I position myself between her legs, lowering down to kiss her, nice and slow, on the mouth. The tip of my cock is right there at her entrance, and I can feel her long, slender legs spreading and bending for me. I have never felt this much tenderness and lust for a woman before. I have to take it easy with her because I know for sure that she’s never been kissed or fucked properly by another man.

  She’s humming as she kisses me hungrily, cradling my face in her hands. I’m starving for her, and I love her mouth. I love her enthusiastic tongue. I love how she sucks on my tongue and then nibbles on my lower lip. The train’s rocking us side to side, she’s wriggling around, and her hot, wet pussy keeps kissing the head of my cock and it’s killing me. She’s so girlish and innocent, and she has so much nervous energy, but it suddenly occurs to me that she might be teasing me on purpose.

  I’m holding myself over her as still as possible, and just when I’m about to ask her if she’s ready for me, she pulls her mouth away and squeezes my biceps.

  “Eddie… I think you need to fuck me like we aren’t friends.”

  Okay, change of plans.

  “I like the way you think.”

  “Good… Are you sure you know what I mean, though?”

  “Are you sure you know what you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, maybe you should explain it to me, then. With words.”

  She exhales loudly, giving me a playful punch on the arm. “I don’t want to tell you what to do.”

  “I’m an actor. I’m good at taking direction. And I want you to tell me what you want from me.”

  She squirms around a little, and it’s excruciating, but I like it when she gets mad. “I told you. I want you to fuck me like we aren’t friends. Just do it.”

  “I’m going to need you to be more specific.” I nudge myself inside her, a tiny bit, and the resulting gasp is delightful.

  “I don’t want you to be gentle.”

  “Good.” I rub my thumb over her hard little nipple and dip down to lick it. “And?”

  “I want you to fuck me hard.”

  “I can do that. You sure you can handle it?”

  “Try me.” I feel her hand around the base of my cock, squeezing.

  Fuck. Birdie Beckett is hot as fuck and full of great ideas and surprises.

  I let her guide me inside her. The resistance, followed by the sweet, impossibly tight glide inward, is the best kind of reward and torture all at once. I suck in a breath, and she groans, releasing me to throw her arms around my neck, wrapping her legs around mine.

  I thrust in and out and back in, just once.

  “Oh my God!” she squeals.

  “Good?”

  “So good. Again.”

  “As you wish.” I thrust in and out, over and over, hard but not too fast. Her lithe body moves with mine. She practically sings every time I penetrate her, and she is perfect.

  “You talk,” she whispers into my ear between heavy breaths.

  “You want me to talk dirty, Birdie?”

  “Yes.”

  “You want me to tell you how good it feels to have your warm, wet pussy around my cock?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You want to know how bad I want you? How hard you make me? How fucking desperate I am to come inside you?”

  “Irish,” she mutters.

  “Irish?” Ohhhhh. “You want to hear me talk about yer sweet, hot fanny like a filthy Irishman now, do ya?”

  “Yes! More.”

  “The first time I saw you, Birdie Beckett, I wanted to tug yer hair, lick you all over and eat the box off ya.”

  “Really?”

  “I’d never lie about wantin’ to lick a lass all over. Macushla.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “My darling.”

  She groans. “I’ve had to change my panties five times ever since we got on this train.”

  “Jesus.”

  “I came prepared.”

  “For me?”

  “I guess I wanted you.”

  “You guess?”

  “I did.”

  I grab one of her legs and lift it up to rest on my shoulder. She’s so tight around me now, we both groan. “Fuuuck, Birdie. You feel so good.”

  She arches her back. “Harder. Faster.”

  “Whatever you say.” I go harder, faster. “You like that?” I move her other leg up onto my shoulder, and goddamn, it’s tight, wet, heavenly torment. I go deep, as far as I can. She screams my name, and it’s driving me crazy. “You’ve never been fucked like this before, have you?”

  “No. So good. Don’t stop.”

  “I’m not done with you yet, Bird.” I keep going and then flip her around, so she’s on top of me.

  It takes her a few seconds to get her bearings, but then she rocks her hips back and forth, bearing down on me.

  “That’s my girl.”

  She’s moving slow so we can both catch our breaths. I reach for her perky swollen tits, massage them until she drops her head back, moaning.

  “You’re so beautiful, Birdie. You don’t even know.”

  I sit up, and she arches back so I can kiss her breasts. Her hips sway faster, urgent, and she starts to contract and release around me. I lick her all the way up her neck to her jaw, drag my fingernails down her back, and then spank her ass. Real quick.

  She gasps and shudders, and I drive up into her, holding on to her shoulder with one hand, gripping the mattress with the other for support.

  “Eddie! Oh my God.”

  I can’t form words anymore. I’m just sweat and heavy breathing and grunts and thrusts. I am so fucking grateful for the ab strength to do this, but I need her to come right now so I can too.

  I reach up to grab the loose knot of hair on her head, tug on it, and her long waves tumble down all around her just as she falls apart—crying out. Loud and surprised and elated.

  I wrap my arms around her tight, letting go of the thing I’ve been holding on to inside of me. There’s a flash and then darkness. Like a train blasting through a tunnel.

  I have no sense of how long it took to get here. I don’t know how long it takes for me to get through to the other side. But when I open my eyes, I find Birdie looking into them. She’s a goddess. Her hands on my face, her legs wrapped around my waist. She kisses me so deeply. It takes my breath away and gives me back something that I didn’t realize I had lost—the belief that I deserve a woman like Birdie.

  No, that’s not right.

  There is no other woman like Birdie.

  It’s just Birdie.

  I get this flash of a memory—not a memory so much as a feeling—of how I felt back in Ohio. At my brother’s bachelor party. When I was drunk off my ass and all I wanted to do was call her.

  She plants kisses all over my face. We’re both damp
with sweat, and the covers are all around us. The air is cold, but I don’t care. I’m about to ask her about the voice message I left her again, but she says, “Hey, you.”

  “Hey.”

  “I think we should do that again when you’re ready.”

  My hands are all up in her wild mane of hair. “I think you’d be surprised what I’m ready for now, Bird.”

  She rests her forehead against mine. “No more talking tonight. Okay?”

  It’s not okay, but also everything is okay.

  “Whatever you want” is what I tell her.

  But what I’m thinking is:

  Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!

  For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

  17

  Birdie

  The One with the Red Lipstick

  LAYLA: Girl. I felt a disturbance in the Friend Force last night. How many frorgasms did you have? Tell me everything.

  ME: Shhhhhh!!!

  LAYLA: Did you really just shush me in a text? Really?

  ME: I’m in the room with him right now. He’s still sleeping.

  LAYLA: Exhausted from banging you? Poor boy.

  ME: A lady never tells.

  LAYLA: Something tells me you’re not quite the lady you claim to be.

  ME: Okay, ninety billion. That’s how many I had. But they weren’t frorgasms. I made him treat me like we aren’t friends.

  LAYLA: OMG. You are a sexy evil genius. It was good?

  LAYLA: Hello? Did I lose you?

  ME: No. I’m just trying to think of a better adjective than “good.”

  LAYLA: Fanfuckingtastic?

  ME: It was Cannafuckingvaleful.

  LAYLA: LOL

  ME: It was Cannav-awe-inspiring

  LAYLA:

  ME: It was totally Edwardian. Nope. Never mind. It was really great.

  LAYLA: So you banged it out? Did he break up with that IG dildo?

  ME: It seems to be over. He said he’d make the call when we’re in Chicago.

  LAYLA: Oh.

  ME: I have no reason not to believe him. He said he’s not going to see her.

  LAYLA: No, I totally believe him. It’s good. Better than good. You’re one and done, then?

  ME: I think so. Well…three and done, technically.

  ME: Shhh! I think he’s awake! Gotta go.

  ME: Do NOT tell anyone about this!!!

  ME: Love you bye.

  Eddie is groaning as he stretches, and I think I might be at ninety-billion-and-one orgasms now.

  I need to not have orgasms every time he stretches or makes a noise or looks at me or does or says anything at all.

  We are three and done.

  Which is why I got up early and changed into my bulkiest sweater and the jeans that only make my butt look moderately good. I put my hair up into a not-at-all-sexy bun and put on my glasses. To ensure that he would get the hint that I do not have any intention of kissing him, I applied bright red lipstick. Yes—I have read the Manchester University study which confirmed that men are attracted to full red lips—but I am confident that Eddie will understand that this means I don’t want to smear my lipstick all over his stupidly handsome face. I definitely look like I don’t want to get drilled again and again by my best guy friend.

  Who am I kidding? My best friend, period.

  He hasn’t even officially ended things with the Instagirlfriend that he had barely started things with, so it wouldn’t be good for either of us if we kissed again in the harsh light of day.

  And if I let myself fall for him any more than I already have and it doesn’t work out for us, there is no way our friendship could withstand that.

  And I can’t lose him.

  I can live without the Cannavorgasms, I think. But I don’t want to live without Eddie in my life.

  “Hey,” he says, looking back at me and groaning again.

  He’s still naked under the covers.

  And he currently has what can only be described as Fuck Hair.

  He is simultaneously gorgeous and sexy and cute.

  It is not conducive to not-orgasming. It is also not making it any easier to not fall for him. But I’m working on it.

  “Good morning! I took the liberty of ordering us breakfast in the room. Unless you want to eat out? At the dining car? Eat up in the dining car, I mean. If you do, I’ll go down here. Stay down here, I mean.”

  He rubs his eyes and yawns. Hopefully he’s not awake enough to catch my verbal blunders. “No, let’s have breakfast in bed.” His morning voice is so seductive, it’s totally unfair. He combs his fingers through his hair, and without even smirking, he says, “I’ll eat out and you can go down.”

  “Oh, hah! No, thank you. I’m up. I’m dressed. I mean, you can have breakfast in bed. I’ll eat at the table.”

  “C’mere.” He rolls over onto his stomach, arms outstretched.

  Dear Lord, I want to go to him, but I have to get us back on track. I need to be the engineer of this Friend Train. I need a fucking miracle.

  There’s a knock at the door. “Somebody order breakfast for the Friend Zone?” Nancy practically yells from the corridor. Nancy is my fucking miracle.

  Eddie heaves a loud, exasperated sigh as he reaches for his discarded jacket. I wait for him to put it on before opening the door for Nancy. She has two small meal trays for us, and I take the carafe of coffee and the coffee mugs from her. “Come on in!” I holler, a little too eagerly. “Good morning! Welcome!” I already said good morning to her out in the corridor earlier, but my brain is too busy getting yelled at by the rest of my body to come up with something more original.

  “Well, good morning to the both of you,” she says as her attention deftly goes from the top bunk with no blankets to the lower bunk with all the blankets and Eddie with the Fuck Hair. “Well, now. Hope you both managed to stay warm last night…”

  “Not really!” I say, just as Eddie replies, “Tried as hard as we could, Nancy.” He gives her a wink.

  I bark out a laugh. “How was your night, Nancy? Did you stay warm? Are you able to sleep when you’re working? How does that work?”

  She arranges the trays on one of the small tables under one of the windows. “Fine, sort of, not really and Maximum Strength NoDoz. Can I bring you anything else?”

  “No, thank you,” Eddie says just as I ask her if she’d like to have a cup of coffee with us.

  “I gotta make the rounds, but thanks for the offer. You two enjoy your meals. Give me a shout when you need me to put the beds back up, or just the top one, maybe…”

  “We’ll definitely need you to put both beds back up,” I tell her, just as Eddie says, “I think we’re good.”

  “Perfect.” She gives us a little wave. “Bye now.”

  As soon as Eddie hears the door close, he says, “How’s it going?”

  “Great! How are you? Did you sleep well?”

  “Uh-huh.” He finds his underwear and sweatpants, puts them on under the covers, and then sits on the edge of the bed, grinning at me. “You?”

  Damn you, dimples.

  “I did. Eventually. We should eat before the food gets cold.”

  “Birdie…”

  “Did you want me to bring this tray to you?”

  “Birdie.”

  “We’re supposed to arrive in Chicago at 2:50. I’m going to pack everything up after we eat and then go up to the observation car—to read and see the view.”

  “Birdie.”

  “It’s snowing a little—did you see? It’s really pretty out there. You should probably buy a coat in Chicago if you have time.”

  “Bird. I had a really good time last night.”

  “Me too! It was really good. Super fun. Glad we did that.”

  “So am I.”

  “Great! We don’t have to do the thing where we talk about it.”

  “I think we should. I’d like to talk about how beautiful you are and how great the sex was and how badly I want
to kiss you again.”

  Fuck me, I want to smear my lipstick all over this guy.

  I cross one leg in front of the other and twirl strands of hair around my finger. “Oh, well, that’s so sweet, but you wouldn’t want this lipstick all over your mouth.”

  “I want it all over my cock, to be honest.” He doesn’t mumble it like a creep. He looks me straight in the eyes. His eyes are clear and honey brown and earnest. My stomach is fluttering. My ears may have heard exactly what he said, but my heart heard a Shakespeare sonnet because his delivery was so sincere.

  “Umm… You don’t have to keep doing that thing where you don’t treat me like a friend anymore.”

  “I want to treat you like more than a friend. Last night didn’t mean nothing to me. I want you to know that.”

  “It didn’t mean nothing to me either, Eddie, but…”

  There’s a crackling sound from the wall speaker. Another fucking miracle because that means we have to put a pin in this conversation until Gavin is done with his announcement. But we keep our eyes trained on each other the whole time.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Gavin the conductor here with a little update on our schedule. It’s going to take a little longer than expected to reach our final destination of Chicago Union Station. There’s a buildup of snow and ice on the tracks, and our winter fleet is already hard at work clearing the tracks ahead of us, but we’ll be traveling at a slightly slower speed along the way. Not to worry—things could be a lot worse. This is just a minor delay of approximately forty minutes at this point. So take a little more time to get to know one another, why don’t you? Good things come to those who wait. The Love Train always gets you to your HEA eventually. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the slightly longer than anticipated ride… In other news, we’ve run out of bacon. Please don’t start a riot. Gavin, out.”

  By the time the speaker has gone silent, my heart is racing because Eddie has basically made love to my neck and mouth with his eyes from about six feet away.