by Haley Jenner
The tension of the room is thick, buzzed as we both lie stiffly; me on the bed, Jake on the couch. My mind is running on loop, actively trying to recall if this tension has always been so heavy, just disguised amongst friends. Or is it circumstantial?
Reaching out, I flick the lamp off plunging the room into darkness and our sighs of relief are immediate. "Night, Strawb'ries," Jake speaks quietly into the dark and his voice hits me where it most definitely should not.
Jesus Christ. I need to get a grip.
"What's with Strawb'ries?" I question, not ready to end our night here. Wanting, needing, just a little more.
Jake takes a few moments to respond, clearing his throat before the husk of his voice dances through the room. "Your skin, when you hugged me tonight, it smelled sweet. Like…"
"Strawberries," I finish for him. "It's my body wash.”
"It's your complexion too, creamy against the darkness of your hair and the rise of color that hits your cheekbones when you laugh… like strawberries and cream," he finishes quietly, and if I were wearing panties they'd be drenched.
What. The. Fuck.
A few hours alone together and his observations of me have me so fucking twisted inside. So confused. So needy. Without conscious thought, he’s made me feel wanted, special, worthy.
"J-Baby," I breathe, the impact of his words clear in the way I speak.
"Aubrey, you wearing panties under my shirt?" Jake tests, his voice strained.
I'm lost on how to answer, so I don't, my silence answering for me. "Jesus Christ," he chokes, and although I can't see him in the dark, his movement tells me he's now sitting upright. "Fuck. I need my own room. I…." he shifts in his spot and I can't stop myself when my mouths opens and I all but beg, "Please don't."
Jake remains silent and I wait for an eternity for him to come to me but he doesn't. His body has been shocked into stillness, his fidgeting ceasing, his sharp breaths the only sound in the dark.
Gulping down my nerves, I remove my blankets and stand on shaky feet. I know this is wrong. In far too many ways to count. I should have paid for my own room, stopped my own temptation. But as my feet pad softly across the small expanse of space between the two of us, I can't will myself to stop. Or to care.
My knees hit his and immediately a long finger tentatively coasts across my knee, moving upwards along the soft skin of my inner thigh. "Tell me to stop, Aubrey. Tell me no," he pleads, but I don't, instead, working my hands into his hair, silently begging him to continue.
My breath catches as his finger continues its upward brush, working to keep the needy whimper perched on my tongue from escaping. "Let me hear you," Jake breathes, his finger moving torturously slow. My mouth opens automatically at his request, and the sound that comes out is desperate, raw with the need evident between my thighs.
It seems to take forever for him to actually touch me, but when he does my legs almost buckle under me. "Jake."
"Fuck, Aubrey. You're soaked," he grits out, his long finger stroking slowly within my folds.
"I wanna feel you inside me."
Removing his finger, both hands grip my hips, pulling me forward and onto his lap. I pull his shirt from my body, wanting every inch of my skin touching his. I wish I could see him too; his face, his skin, colored with pictures, but that would mean moving away from him, and I’m not willing to do that. I’m not complaining though because seeing Jake with my hands isn’t exactly a hardship.
His large palms slide into my hair, pulling my face down to his and his lips brush along my own, only once. Again, his touch is tentative, waiting for me to stop him. To stop what’s unfolding between us. But nothing could stop me wanting this right now. Nothing. So I press my lips to his, his mouth opening at my touch, welcoming my tongue. From that moment, gone is the hesitancy, he unleashes and it’s purely animalistic. His strong hands hold my face to his as our kiss quickly turns greedy; all lips, tongues, and teeth. Biting. Licking. Exploring.
He drags his free hand down my spine and I arch into him further. His hand settles on my lower back, shoving me forward and into the thickness in his boxers. My loud moan is swallowed by his mouth as my hips grind along his ridge.
"Jake," I plead and he taps my ass, instructing me to rise up.
Freeing his cock quickly, he glides it through my wetness and my eyes roll back in my head. "What the fuck? That feels… Jesus, Jake, what?" I stutter through my labored breathing.
"Head of my cock's pierced, baby," he confides, lining the head at my entrance.
"Fuck. Me," I manage, and he laughs.
"The base is too," he whispers, biting my neck before easing me down.
"Good. Fucking. Lord," I choke. He fills me completely and he didn't lie, the base of his cock massages my clit with the cool metal connected to his body.
"Ho-ly shit," he groans, and it sounds from deep within his throat; it's rough, deep and sexy as fuck.
Our mouths connect again, my knees slowly rising up and easily gliding back down.
"Harder, Aubrey," Jake commands, his hand moving to cup my hip, helping my movements. I don't hesitate, rising up fast and slamming back down. The feeling is unlike anything I've ever experienced; the pierced head of his cock massaging my inner walls, his cock thick and hard, stretching me. My clit is stimulated on every downward thrust; his base piercing making sure of that.
I don’t hide my pleasure. My sounds are loud and desperate, making my throat raw. Jake is similar. His sounds are jagged, deep and only add to my pleasure. "That's it, baby, bounce on my cock. Lemme feel your tits jumping up and down," he groans, hand skating up my side, higher to flick my nipple between his callused fingers.
My head flies back, the feeling too much. Stimulated from so many angles my body struggles to comprehend how to feel. "You're close, Aubrey. I can feel you throbbing along my dick. Come for me, baby, let me hear you scream," Jake coaxes me higher.
My muscles begin to stiffen as my body readies itself for release. My breaths are hard and sharp. My movements falter at the feeling overtaking my body, but Jake doesn't seem to care. Both hands claw at my hips, guiding my rough movements. "Jake. Baby. Fu-ck. Yes," I scream into the room and my entire body stiffens before convulsing. Spent from my orgasm, I fall limp over Jake's body, trying to catch my breath.
His movements come harder and faster as he uses his muscle to bounce my sated body along his hardness. His groans are incoherent and rough, giving away the pleasure in his body.
With a jagged thrust, Jake comes, my name a cracked roar from his lips as he slams me down once last time, his hips straining up as he empties inside of me.
Wrapped up in Jake, feeling his heavy heartbeat, my body tingles with the after effects of the most earth-shattering orgasm I’ve ever experienced. I feel as though I must have been doing it wrong my entire life. Not one person has ever made me feel like that.
My body remains limp over Jake's, my head on his shoulder, face to his neck. Stretching my neck slightly, I kiss along the underside of his jaw. His pulse beats hard and fast, and I keep my lips connected to that spot, letting myself feel it. Sure and steady.
Neither one of us speaks, but it’s not awkward or uncomfortable. It's intimate and contented. Jake's fingers stroke the ridges of my spine, moving like they do on his guitar, playing a silent melody along my skin. Moments pass before his fingers cease their dance abruptly. “Aubrey, I didn't use anything…" he confesses. "I got carried away. Shit, I'm so sorry."
Pulling my head from his neck and the rhythmic beat of his pulse, I straighten my posture to sit up. "It's fine. We both got carried away. There’s two of us here, Jake. I'm on birth control and I'm ummm… clean.”
"Me too. I've never not used anything before, with anyone," he pushes his point, and my hands move to his neck, my thumbs stroking the strong line of his jaw.
"Me too, baby," I offer before dropping my head to taste his mouth in a barely-there, drawn out brush of my lips. I do this, once, twice, three times before I p
ull back. "Now, I'm fucking dying to see this pierced cock of yours," I admit confidently and he laughs quietly, releasing my hips and allowing me to climb off his body to find the light.
I've never been one to shy away from my naked self, but as the lights flicker on and everything comes into focus, I'm a little unsure. My figure has always been slender; long and lean, mostly angles instead of curves. I work out when I can or when the mood strikes me, but mostly it’s genetics. I have height and I'm thin. But no round pouty ass like Annabelle or full perky tits like Darci. Genetics did not bless me there. I'm worried, more than anything, I want Jake to appreciate my body, not wish I was curvier or my tits just a size (or two) bigger like boyfriend’s or partner’s past. For some unknown reason, more than anything, I want him to love what I have and not want something, even slightly different.
I steel myself before turning to see his watchful gaze. The connection is instantaneous, and I know my fears were unfounded. Looking me over Jake groans internally, the sound kept quiet in his mouth. He starts at my feet and working his way up, he skims past my face, coursing over my long, mused hair before taking in my lips and settling on my eyes. "You're so fucking beautiful, Aubrey," he sighs. "Come here," he tells me softly, and my feet immediately obey.
Kneeling in front of him, he cups my jaw, brushing a thumb along my bottom lip before bending to follow its path with his tongue. His mouth fits over mine and he kisses me slowly. Tongue stroking into my mouth; exploring and tasting.
Dragging my hands up his lean thighs I pull away slowly from the kiss and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. My eyes focus on his cock, hardened once again and I swallow deeply. Little Dean is gifted; he's long and thick; all smooth skin decorated with two silver barbells. One vertically through his head and one horizontal at the base. "You have a really good looking cock, baby. Just sayin'." I wink up at him, and his dimple appears immediately. Rising up high on my knees, I kiss the dimple softly to feel the small rivet in his cheek beneath my lips.
I stand slowly, holding his eyes and drawing him upwards. He follows me wordlessly to the large bed, our hands entwined, the heat of his body warming my back. His free hand brushes along my neck as we near the bed, moving my hair to touch his lips to the soft skin. I breathe out a whimper, and the large hand engulfing my own tightens at the sound. “You smell so good," he drags his nose up the column of my neck lightly. "But the way you taste," he groans before following the path his nose took with the tip of his tongue. "Drives me fucking wild."
I lose the grasp of his hand as I turn to face him and the loss I feel is instantly replaced with his kiss, his lips closing over mine in a slow, burning hunger. The kiss is deep and unrushed and I pull away only to crawl backward onto the bed. His body follows me down, the connection of skin barely breaking as he climbs over me. Widening my thighs, he fits easily between them, settling heavy on top, letting me feel the weight of his body. The mixture of our previous release allows him to slide easily inside of me, and my body once again relishes in the way he stretches me. I moan loudly as he buries himself totally. His piercings hit me simultaneously, and I struggle to catch my breath at the feeling. I can't imagine I'd ever get used to the overwhelming reaction I have to his jewelry. It's unlike anything I could describe. The pleasure overtakes my entire body, making my toes curl and neck arch.
Jake waits until I've adjusted to his intrusion, keeping his body perfectly still. My eyes hood over and I right my neck to see his face. "Good baby?" he whispers against my lips and my mouth tips up in a hint of a smile before I kiss him.
Jake brings me to orgasm hard and fast. His thrusts are purposeful and experienced. His body expertly moving mine to maximize my pleasure. I scream loud in the dim light of the room, my nails digging into the muscles of his back. Jake soon follows, emptying inside of me on a loud groan that echoes into my skin, his face buried in my neck.
We stay like this for a long time. Jake still inside of me, lips decorating one another's necks in whispered kisses. When he eventually pulls slowly from me, we share a smile. I wink, and his grin widens, dimple teasing me and I lean forward to kiss the indentation.
"I'm gonna clean up," I speak softly against his cheek. Jake moves off me in response, rolling to my left side and watching me walk to the bathroom.
Settling into bed that night I'm thankful for Jake. Thankful that my fucked-up day was given a one-eighty by someone so unlikely, so wildly unexpected but so fucking welcome. For the first time, in longer than I can remember, the rest of the world dropped away and I felt like me. The me I was so certain I was. Once upon a time anyway. Carefree. Worthy. Strong. Going forward I can't imagine how this will affect our relationship, the platonic friendship that we've held all these years. But in this moment, tangled up in Jake, consequences can wait for morning.
CHAPTER TWO
Jake
Her smell engulfs me. Floods my sleep clogged mind, bringing back memories of teasing smiles, throaty screams, shared secrets and that fucking wink. Just that alone is enough to make my pulse race and my cock hard.
Speaking of dicks being hard… I stretch upwards, relieving the sleeping muscles in my back before turning to the empty space where Aubrey should be. I sit upright and survey the empty room. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I attempt to bring her into focus, which is impossible considering she's not actually here.
"Aubrey?" I scratch out into the vacant room, just to be sure. "The fuck?" I clear my throat, throwing my legs off the bed to touch my feet to the carpet.
My eyes scan the immediate space for any evidence of her, but there's nothing. She's gone, with nothing visible to identify she was ever here. Nothing but the thick smell of stale sex in the air and the tangled sheets we slept in. I can feel it though, in the way my cock twitches at the recollection of how our evening was spent.
A slip of paper peeks out from underneath my phone and I guess I should feel grateful she left a note. But I'm not, I’m pissed.
Reaching out, I grab hold of her note unfolding it see her words.
J-Baby,
You looked so peaceful I didn't have it in me to wake you. Last night was the best of my life. I'll cherish it forever. Thank you for being you. You're amazing. See you when I'm in town next, yeah?
All my love,
A x
Her 'A’ is large, cursive and all class. She finishes the note with a single kiss. Her soft lips imprinted on the paper, in the red of her lipstick. I stare at the mark, taking in the creases and indents of her perfectly sculpted lips and I wanna scream. Did she seriously just blow me off? In a fucking note. What the hell was last night to her? A fucking one-night stand?
My hand twitches with a need to ball the paper in my fist, instead I fold it neatly, placing it back with my phone.
Staring at the offensive bit of paper, I struggle through my thoughts. Did I read last night wrong? Was I the only one that felt that our connection was more than just sex? Surely not. Surely, that level of chemistry wouldn’t have been one-sided.
Has she gone back to Carnation, continuing with her intentions from last night? Or has she back-tracked and rushed back to Bellingham?
I shower before checking out of my motel, washing her off my body regrettably. I grab coffee and a bagel at a pit-stop along the road, unsure of what to say when I see her. Last night meant more to me than just one night. There was a connection. A strong one and not just sexually. Sexually it was off the fucking charts. I don't think I've ever come so hard in my life. My orgasms snapped through my entire body, shattering every nerve. It was intense, I feel ruined in the best possible way. But more than the epic sex was the emotional connection we made. She shared. Aubrey King fucking shared. It's no secret that Aubrey's private life is hers and hers alone. She keeps her personal business locked tight, working to keep the deepest parts of herself hidden. Fucked if I know why, because when you see her, for real, no one compares. No one. And last night, she shared. With me. Willingly, no pressure. She wanted to talk to me. But now s
he's blown me off and I'm not down with that. We're grown fucking adults and when it’s as close to home as it is for us, you need to talk this shit out. For me, this changes everything. She owes me at least an explanation. At a minimum.
My drive is quiet, contemplative. Images of our night invade my every thought and I'm at a loss as to how she could just walk away. I know she felt it too. Granted it was a shock, for the both of us, how could it not be? Shit, she's my best friend's, best friend. We've known each other for most of my life. But last night made me realize how little we really know about one another. I always viewed Aubrey as a strong, independent, but fiercely happy woman. I'm starting to realize that's who she wants everyone to see. How blind are we all to realize that on some deeper level, it’s a façade? A carefully crafted act she wants us to believe? But I saw more. I saw the woman scared at her own choices in life. Someone consumed with self-doubt and maybe even self-loathing. I saw someone who was living a life that didn't give her the happiness she deserved. Not by a long shot.
Our relationship may be unconventional, but it could be good if we gave it a shot. Last night proved that. It felt right, being lost in another. It felt as though these past years of harmless flirting finally came together in an explosive moment.
Pulling alongside the curb outside Aubrey's place, I'm relieved Annabelle's back in Carnation with Ma. Fuck knows how I'd explain my need to see Aubrey. Alone. Not something I'm ready or willing to discuss. Not before I actually understand it.
Aubrey's small silver sedan is parked in the drive and I'm thankful my instincts were right and that she didn't go to Carnation.
Rallying my nerves, I file from my car and walk the short distance to her porch. My knock at the door is rhythmic and loud. Arms braced on either side of the doorframe, I wait impatiently, wondering whether I should have embraced my inner Archer and entered without knocking. Stormed through and demanded answers. Not my style though.
