by Lili Valente
For a moment, I consider texting him back and telling him not to come, or jumping off the bus at the next stop and ghosting on him the way I did yesterday, but I force myself stay in my seat.
If Justin has feelings for me, the kindest thing I can do is let him down as swiftly and gently as possible. It’s time to put on my big-girl panties and deal with the insanity that my stupid “sex education” plan put in motion, even if it means hurting a person I never, ever want to cause any pain.
Chapter Twelve
Justin
The Hoyt Arboretum is only a few minutes from my apartment. During the summer, I run these trails—through the cool redwoods and up the gorge to the old mill where there are stairs to pound up and down until I’m breathless—at least once or twice a week. Once the season starts, I’m usually too busy to squeeze in another run outside of practice, but damn, have I been missing out.
As I head up the trail toward the meditation chapel, an open A-frame structure made of redwood planks, with a sweet view of the forest rolling down the hill below it, the colors take my breath away. The rest of Portland in the fall isn’t anything to turn your nose up at, but the hundreds of rare trees planted and nurtured in this reserve have transformed the forest into something magical. Vivid orange, red, and yellow leaves set the tree tops on fire as they mingle in the canopy. It reminds me of a Chinese New Year celebration, the colors mixing together overhead until they’re like silk dragon kites rippling in the breeze.
Fuck, I love fall in this city. I truly am a lucky bastard, to get to play the game I love, in the city I love, and to travel just enough to make me grateful for long weekends at home with friends and family.
Speaking of friends…
I step into the shade under the meditation chapel’s roof to see Libby pacing the floor on the other side of the open space. Her side is sunny, and the warm autumn light catches her hair, bringing out streaks of red and gold I hadn’t realized were there. She’s wearing a dark orange sweater over another pair of baggy linen pants and a hand-knit lacy brown scarf that looks like it was spun by a spider. She’s beautiful, in a cozy kind of way, but it isn’t an outfit that should give a man an immediate hard-on.
“Get a grip, asshole,” I mutter beneath my breath, willing my stupid cock to give it a rest. Yes, cock, I get it, the message has been received. We’re attracted to Libby, but that’s fucking irrelevant at the moment.
Chances are it will be irrelevant for the foreseeable future, maybe even the rest of our lives. I’m not a mind reader, but Libby certainly doesn’t look relaxed and open to continuing what we started She looks stressed, anxious, and when she turns and her eyes meet mine across the shadowy interior of the chapel, a pained expression tightens her features.
“I’m sorry, Libby. I’m an asshole,” I say, hating that I’m the one who made her this upset. “Seriously. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” Her fingers tangle in her spider-web scarf. “I’m sorry. I’m the one who started this, and now things are weird and it’s all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” I close the distance between us, coming to stand beside her in the sun, wishing I could pull her in for a hug and make this better. But I’ve got an ugly feeling that’s it’s going to be a long time before hugs between Libby and I are anything but strained and complicated. “At the moment it seemed like a good idea, but clearly it upset you, and it was a bad call and…I’m sorry.”
“The kiss isn’t what upset me. It was more…” She sighs, glancing away with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter.” I step closer, unable to resist reaching up to brush her silky hair over her shoulder. “Talk to me, beautiful. Come on, we could always talk. Let’s just get it all out, and then we can decide how to move on from wherever we are.”
She looks up, focusing on my lips before her gaze slides up to meet mine, making me keenly aware of how close our mouths are. So close I can smell honey on her breath and feel the warmth of her skin on my face, two relatively innocent things that nevertheless make the hard-on situation worse than it was before.
Christ, I’m fucking hopeless.
“I care about you so much. I hope you know that,” Libby says, her words sending a cool sliver of fear cutting through my arousal.
Shit, is Libby about to confess that she has a thing for me? And if so, what the hell am I going to do about it? The last thing I want is to hurt her, but my cock is the only part of me invested in getting her naked. I love her, but I don’t love her in that way. She’s my sweet friend who I also want to fuck until we’re both coming so hard we can’t see. That’s it.
“You are so important to me,” she continues, anxiety tightening the skin around her soft brown eyes. “But yesterday wasn’t… I mean it felt amazing, and I’ve never been so comfortable with someone in a situation like that, but I…”
I frown, confused again. “Just spit it out, Libs.”
Her breath rushes out. “I’m not interested in you in that way, Jus. I mean, I’m clearly attracted to you, but you’re my friend. And that’s all. And I’m sorry if it seemed like I was leading you on with the sex education thing or trying to turn friendship into something more, but I honestly just wanted—”
She keeps talking, but I can’t make out what she’s saying because I’m laughing too fucking hard. I laugh so hard that after a moment, Libby starts laughing with me.
“What’s so funny, jerk?” She shoves my shoulder playfully. “I’m trying to be nice to you so you won’t get your feelings hurt!”
“I know. It’s nice,” I say, fighting to get the words out.
“So, you’re not secretly in love with me.” She crosses her arms at her chest and glares up at me, but I can tell she’s as relieved as I am.
“No, I’m not.” I pull in a ragged breath, regaining control. “But I appreciate how sweet you are. Thank you for letting me down easy, babes. You’re the best.”
She shoves me again, sending another chuckle rumbling through my chest. “And you’re the worst. What a jerk you are! You’re the one who was calling me beautiful and writing poetry. What was I supposed to think?”
“I get it,” I say, laughter fading. “I totally do. For real. I was actually a little worried that you might want something more than friendship.”
Her shoulders hunch closer to her ears. “No, I don’t. But I am confused. I didn’t think I could feel the kind of things I felt yesterday for a friend.”
I nod, memories of Libby’s expression pre-orgasm making my voice husky when I say, “Yeah, well, that’s why they call it friends with benefits.”
“I’ve never had a friend with benefits.” Her gaze drifts to my lips again, making me think I’m not the only one with sex on the brain.
“I have. It can be nice, as long as both people are on the same page emotionally.” I shift closer, pulling the heavenly smell of her in along with my next breath. “Which, it seems like we are…”
Her chest rises and falls, her heart-stopping breasts straining the fabric of her sweater, making me ache to set them free. “This is not something I’ve even considered until today, Jus. I’ve always been a romantic, but…” She looks up, heat and uncertainty mixing in her eyes. “But I don’t want to be a disaster in the bedroom for the rest of my life. And I’m not sure I’m going to learn what I want to learn any other way.”
“You’re not a disaster,” I promise. “I meant what I said yesterday, Libs. I wanted you. So fucking much. You made me crazy.”
“And then I ran away.” Her teeth trap her bottom lip for a moment before setting it free, making me remember how good it felt to have those teeth raking over my skin. “Because I’m a stress case. But I don’t want to be anymore. I want to be confident and sure of myself and know that I can you-know-what with another person in the room and the world isn’t going to come to an end.”
“You know what?”
“That I c
an come,” she whispers, her cheeks going pink.
My eyebrows lift sharply. “You’ve never…”
She shakes her head as her gaze drops to where her fingers tangle in her scarf. “No. Brett tried and tried, but it never happened. It got to be such an insurmountable, stressful obstacle that I would just fake it. It was easier than dealing with a frustrated boyfriend and feeling like a failure every time we were together. And with the other men I’ve dated, things never went that far.”
“Shit,” I mutter, the knowledge that she’s been deprived of lover-administered orgasms—and that Brett is probably the only man she’s ever slept with—penetrating the lust fog building between us.
This is a bigger responsibility than I thought. But hell, knowing I’m going to be the first man to make Libby come makes me want to take her right here, to pull her into the shadows beneath the chapel ceiling beams and get her off.
She laughs softly, her eyes glittering. “No, Justin.”
“No, what?” I move in as she backs a step away.
“I’m not the only one whose face gives her away,” she says, lifting her palms in front of her with another giggle. “No! We’re not jumping into anything, especially in the middle of a public park. We need to talk, set some ground rules.”
“Ground rule number one—I make you come at least once a day every day that I’m in town for the next month.” I continue to stalk her across the chapel as she retreats with an intrigued expression that makes me hope she’s going to let me catch her. “Then we touch base over Thanksgiving and decide if we want to keep taking our clothes off or go back to being friends without orgasms. Done. Rules complete.”
“No, not done,” she insists. “Ground rule number two—we keep this a secret from everyone else, especially friends and family.”
“Ground rule number three—you have to be honest with me, no faking.”
“And you have to be honest with me.” She comes to a stop, her back against one of the support beams. “If I suck at this you have to tell me. I don’t want your pity. I want to make you feel the way that you make me feel.”
“And how’s that?”
She holds my gaze, the heat in her eyes making my cock swell thicker. “Good. Very, very good.”
“I haven’t made you feel good yet.” I brace my hands on either side of her flushed face. “But I want to, Libs.” I bend closer, loving the way her breath catches as my nose brushes against hers. “Let me make you come, beautiful. I need to touch you, and I’m fucking dying to kiss you again.”
“But what if someone comes up the trail?” she says, but her resolve is weakening, I hear it in her voice.
“Then we’ll stop,” I promise, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her tight against me. Her soft moan as my erection comes in contact with the soft curve of her belly is all the encouragement I need to bring my other hand to her breast, cupping her through the soft weave of her sweater, teasing her tight nipple. “Come on, Libs. Let me show you how good it feels to lose control.”
“Ground rule number four,” she whispers as her arms come around my neck. “We keep things equal.”
“Which means?” I pinch her nipple lightly, making her moan again, a sweet, soft sound I’m already positive I’ll never get tired of hearing.
“If you make me come, then I intend to return the favor.” She reaches down, dragging her nails lightly over my erection through my jeans and the last of my control vanishes.
A moment later, I’ve got Libby’s legs looped around my waist as I pin her to the massive redwood beam and kiss her so hard and deep I hope there’s no doubt in her mind how sexy she is. How hot. So hot that I can’t wait to get her home tonight, where I can strip her bare and fuck her the way she deserves to be fucked. I’m going to take her slow and steady and so thoroughly that by the time I’m finished there will be nothing left but a puddle of boneless, orgasm-drunk Libby lying limp and supremely satisfied in my bed.
For now, I’ll have to be satisfied with something a little faster, but I still intend to rock her fucking world.
Chapter Thirteen
Libby
Oh my God, oh my God. Oh yes, oh my God…
As Justin kisses me like he’s going to devour me whole, and his hand slips beneath my sweater, my thoughts are an endless, blissed out stream of nonsense. I can’t think, I can only feel, feel, feel all the electric, intense, incredible things he makes me feel. With just a single kiss, a touch, the warmth of his body and the strength in his arms as he effortlessly holds me in the air with one arm and teases my nipples with the other, I’m completely under his command.
He takes control, leaving no room for anxiety or fear or worry about what comes next or the fact that we might be discovered. My world narrows to his taste, his heat, his mouth, and his hands working magic across my skin.
“You’re coming home with me after this.” His breath is hot on my throat as he kisses me there, sending fresh butterflies swooping through my belly. “And then I’m going to take off your sweater and your bra, and I’m going to show you what I can do to this sweet little nipple with my mouth.”
“Oh God,” I murmur, because that is the extent of my vocabulary at this moment, as he lays me down on the cool concrete and covers me with his body, his fingers already working open the string tie at the top of my pants.
“Is the ground too hard?” His voice is as soft as the fingers he brushes back and forth beneath the elastic of my panties.
“No,” I whisper, clinging to his shoulders, ignoring the prickle of fear creeping in at the back of my thoughts. “But it’s hard to pay attention to anything but how much I want you to touch me.”
“I can’t wait to touch you.” His hand eases lower, making my pulse spike as he reaches the curls between my legs. “Spread your legs for me, Libby. Let me make you wet, beautiful.”
Holding my breath, I force my thighs to relax, fully anticipating at least a beat or two of awkwardness as I adjust to the reality that Justin is touching me where only one man has ever touched me before. But then his fingertips brush over my clit, sending a bolt of electricity sweeping through me so sharp and sweet that I’m still reeling from the intensity of it when he finds my entrance and pushes inside.
I moan again as his finger glides deeper, making me aware of every nerve ending in my inner walls. They are all firing and pulsing, awake and alive in a way they’ve never been before.
“Fuck, you’re tight, Libs,” Justin groans as he kisses me again, the magic of his tongue in my mouth and his hand between my legs making me feel like I’m caught in a riptide, helpless to resist being pulled out to sea. “And so wet. God, I love feeling how wet you are, baby, how much you want me.”
“Yes,” I sigh in agreement, sliding my palm down his erection, breath rushing out against his lips as his cock pulses beneath my touch. I love feeling how much he wants me, too. I love it so much that I suddenly can’t wait to feel the hard, hot length of him in my hand.
I tug at the top of his jeans, popping the button and dragging down the zipper. His groan of pleasure as I slip my fingers beneath the waist of his boxers and wrap my fingers around his erection is almost enough to banish the flash of concern as I realize how large he is.
Almost…
Geez Louise-us. I’m not sure yet how long he is, but his girth alone is terrifying. As I stroke him up and down, I can’t quite get my fingertips to meet around his thickness. Even if we decide full-fledged sex is something we’re both on board with, I’m not sure he’ll fit.
We may be more like a shark and a goldfish than I ever imagined, in that his giant shark cock will never ever fit inside my goldfish-size vagina.
I’m imagining the devastation that would be left behind—the vaginal equivalent of a tornado ripping through a trailer park, leaving death and destruction in its wake—when Justin’s thumb starts to circle my clit and I’m swept back into the riptide of pleasure.
“You can hold me tighter, Libs,” Jus murmurs against
my lips between kisses. “I’m not going to break.” I adjust my grip, a powerful thrill rushing through me as he gasps, “Fuck, yes. Just like that, Libby. God, that feels so good,” and thrusts into the fingers I’ve fisted around his cock.
I’m doing it right! Now if I can manage to keep doing it right as Justin drives me completely out of my mind…
The combination of his thumb on my clit and his fingers—two of them now, filling me until I’m blissfully, perfectly full—are quickly taking me back to that wild, wind-swept place where there is nothing to hold on to, nothing but pleasure and tension and the white-hot rush of my blood thundering through my veins as I lean into the abyss.
“Yes, baby.” Justin rakes his teeth across the skin at my throat. “Oh fuck, yes, Libby, come for me.”
“I’m close,” I gasp. God, I’m so close…
“Come for me, beautiful. Let me feel you.”
So close…
“Fuck, Libby, I’m almost there. I’m almost—”
I call his name as my release crashes over me, making it feel like a nuclear bomb has been detonated in my core. The pleasure is fierce, merciless, wringing through me in powerful waves as Justin’s hand continues to move between my legs, drawing the orgasm out into a long, lovely, in-freaking-credible thread of beauty that is as close to heaven as I’ve ever been.
It is mind-blowing, life-changing, world-view-altering in ways that I can’t process right away. All I know, as I lie there beneath Justin, catching my breath, is that my vibrator is no match for this man.
Not even close.
“Wow,” he says, his breath warm on my lips. “I swear it usually takes me longer than that. I guess I was more worried about getting caught that I thought.”
