Contents
Stroke of Midnight
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
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STROKE OF MIDNIGHT
Following a car accident, an increasingly-withdrawn Jake Solomon has barely left his home in months and relies on friends to help with various chores and errands. The internet also takes care of shopping and banking but there's one thing with which it can't help, that maybe Alexa Jardine can. Trouble is, she's his best friend's girl.
So this same friend, Dylan, and Alexa agree that Jake can have her for one evening to help 'take the edge off' his frustrations.
There are no limits to what this temporary couple is allowed to do, but the bargain comes to an end at the stroke of midnight.
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Stroke of Midnight copyright © 2017 January Harper
All rights reserved.
Chapter One
Of all the ways to get sweaty with my boyfriend's best mate, shifting furniture had never been a way in which I'd imagined it happening, but it was better than nothing.
Not that I'd ever imagined getting sweaty with Jake Solomon, of course. Too often, anyway.
Dylan, the aforementioned boyfriend, was open-minded and understanding, knew well that if I looked I never touched and as long as I shared my sexual fantasies with him and only him, we were good. The way our relationship worked was such that we often wound each other up by talking about what we'd like to do to other people, given half the chance. It always ended up with us being aroused enough to fuck each other's brains out and the sight of Jake's muscles straining against the fabric of his t-shirt would, I felt sure, provide me with enough fantasy fuel to keep me and Dylan going for a few hours.
But. Shifting furniture out of his flat and down the stairs, to the front of his tenement block, wasn't the sexiest of settings, even I had to admit. He'd had a new bed delivered the previous day (hello, back to that fantasy fuel again) and Dylan and I had agreed to go round, help him shift the old one, ready for the council to uplift and dispose of it.
Obviously Jake couldn't shift such a large piece of furniture on his own, and that was where Dylan came in. I was just there for company, really, and Dylan and I planned to go straight out to the cinema after we'd dealt with Jake's bed. So I tagged along.
Jake wouldn't be coming with us to the Odeon afterward. Why? The answer to that was the same as the reason he ordered new furniture online, grocery shopped online, worked from home, barely went to the corner of the street unaccompanied these days. Taking the bins out every Sunday evening for Monday morning collection was an ordeal, or so Dylan had informed me.
Some months before, Jake had been in a motor accident, swerved to avoid someone running across the road, went through a guardrail and nearly, but not quite, flipped his car over due to the incline of the grassy verge on the other side. Although he'd been completely cleared of any suspicion of wrongdoing, exonerated beyond all doubt, the mental scars weren't so easy to deal with.
Naturally his car had been totalled and despite the insurance coming through for him, he hadn't yet bought another vehicle. He was scared to drive, which was understandable, but the longer it went on, the less likely he ever was to get back on the horse. Or should I say behind the wheel.
And the longer it went on, Dylan had explained, the harder Jake found it to even leave the house. I'd heard of this happening after a traumatic experience, people becoming agoraphobic, or heading down that path. He wasn't full-on afraid to step outside of his front door, but was reluctant to do so. There had been a legal investigation, which, of course, had cleared him, and plenty of hospital visits after his initial stay, to sort out the bent and broken parts of his physical body...but crowds, Dylan said, increasingly bothered Jake and he needed a lot of time - a lot - to recover from being out amongst what the guys referred to as 'fleshpeoples'. An hour outside could only be mended by a whole day indoors, at the very least.
Which was why, sadly, Jake did his shopping online these days, worked from home, and never socialised. If his friends wanted to see him, we had to go round there. And if Jake was the one who desired company? Well, he hardly ever did, revelling in solitude, but a day or two ago he'd called Dylan to prevail upon him to shift some furniture and that was as 'out there' as Jake Solomon got, really. Neither of us resented it. We just wished Jake was back to his old self.
But, I thought with a heavy sigh as I watched the two of them get to work, that wasn't likely to happen any time soon.
"What possessed you to get a new bed anyway?" I asked, puffing down the stairs like the headboard was much heavier than it really was.
"Need a hand with that?" Jake asked, wiping the back of his hand against his forehead.
"Nah, I'm all right. You two have struggled with the base and the mattress anyway; it's about time I did my bit."
"Oh. Okay. Well, I felt like treating myself, and I got paid pretty well last month, so why not?" His face fell then, but he braced himself, tried to hide how downcast he was, but didn't fool me. "It's not like I'll be blowing my money on fast cars and loose women and tropical holidays any time soon, is it?"
"Or the cars, anyway," Dylan commented with a laugh. As Jake's friend he was allowed to take the piss.
He was farther up the stairwell, leaning over a banister, looking down at us and listening in to our conversation. The inside of the tenement, or a 'close' as some people called it, was a concrete echo chamber. Sound carried. In these places, you could hear someone entering the building and running up the stairs from the comfort of your living room, if you didn't have the telly on masking the sound.
"Or the tropical holidays," Jake added, likely thinking back to some other time when he'd been more confident about crossing the road unaccompanied, when the world wasn't so scary, and he'd had the ability to go to the other side of the world. I knew he'd travelled; although he was 'officially' Dylan's friend, he was mine as well, and we'd had a conversation or two about how it had been before. "My passport's due to lapse soon and I haven't used it in God knows how long."
"So that just leaves the loose women." I winked as I passed Jake on the stairs, and could have sworn he gulped. But maybe that was with tiredness after humping bed parts downstairs. "Wonder where you'll find one of them?"
"He never bloody goes out to meet anyone," Dylan threw at us from his vantage point.
"Use the internet," I told Jake, leaning in a bit closer. He didn't draw back, but he tensed up. And I wondered if he felt goosebumps too, put mine down to the coolness of the close. "No-one with WiFi needs to be celibate these days." I winked again, before carrying on down the stairwell, the headboard braced against one hip. It was hollow and metal - the headboard, not my hip; I was only twenty-seven and not quite ready for the knacker's yard yet - and light enough to be no bother at all. Jake didn't need it any more as his new treat to himself was a leather sleigh bed, all in one piece.
Just a damn shame he'd be sleeping in it by himself.
Maybe I imagined it, but he coloured slightly as I descended. It was almost too easy to wind him up, as taut as he was already. I wasn't sure if being overtly friendly - okay, flirtatious - would put him at ease or on edge. The tenement building was cool, but not enough to raise the goosebumps on my forearms.
Those were definitely down to the look Jake gave me.
After dumping the headboard out front with the base and mattress ready for collection within the next few days, I climbed back upstairs slowly. Not because I was tired - I was a woman full of energy as Dylan knew only too well - but to give the guys time to talk, in case there was anything private they wanted to discuss. Jake's state of mind was out in the open, his friends knew about it, but sometimes I got the feeling he didn't want me around, felt uncomfortable with my talk of what I'd done, places I'd been. I worried that my way of passing the time of day made him resent that I had such an easy ability to go out and socialise, meet new people.
I made a conscious effort not to provoke such feelings in him, but the truth was, I didn't know exactly how to handle it. Dylan had known him for much longer than I, was a closer friend.
By the time I got to the top of the stairs again, they were inside the flat, chatting in the hallway. I hoped I'd announced my presence well enough for them to wrap up their conversation, and spotted the car keys in Dylan's hand. Obviously they had. Well, if they wanted to reminisce about old times, today, with me around, probably wasn't the correct time to do it. Dylan would have to come around another day.
I bit my lip to stop myself saying the wrong thing, wondering if there was anything I could do to make Jake feel a bit better. Even a cinema visit was too much for him, so suggesting he tagged along with us wasn't a good idea. People tended to leave each other alone in the darkness of the screening room, but they were still there, being all...peopley. Even the presence of other folk made Jake feel jittery, he'd confessed that much to me himself. And as for the noise of the movie itself, with car chases and so on... I sighed, feeling completely helpless.
"Right, we off then?" Dylan asked, spinning his keys round on one finger. Our cue to say our goodbyes and head on out.
"It wasn't a bad idea, you know," I blurted out. "You can find all sorts of depravity online. You've got a laptop and a WiFi connection...shame to let that new bed go to waste." I winked again, and a shiver ran through me at the way Jake quickly, discreetly, flicked a down-up glance over me.
"Alexa, leave the poor guy alone. You'll scare him."
"I'm just saying," I went on, even while acknowledging that I should probably shut up now. "New bed, the guy never goes out. You could probably order something in. Like a takeaway, but with lube."
"Oh..." Jake's face broke out into a grin and it seemed natural enough. "Sounds like you know a lot about where to find perverts."
"I'm going out with your best mate, aren't I?" I shot back, pleased with the burst of laughter I got in response.
Jake and Dylan bumped fists - heaven forbid two men actually embrace or show more than the most cursory affection to each other - but I reached up to place both hands on Jake's shoulders and we kind of fell into a hug. My tactile nature definitely didn't offend him, judging by the warmth of his body against mine. Offend? More like arouse, if I judged him correctly. Maybe I was imagining it. Wishful thinking, perhaps.
So I stage-whispered in his ear, "And if I ever get tired of Dylan, I'll give you a call; shame to let that new bed go to waste."
"Alexa," Dylan said, behind me, though definitely not in an angry tone of voice. There was laughter in that single word, closely followed by, "What am I going to do with her?"
"Lend me to him for the night," I shot back. "You'd be providing a service. Helping out a pal who doesn't socialise much."
"Thanks for reminding me," Jake put in.
"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that." I gave a watery smile, tried to cover over what I'd said with a smile. "You can have a freebie."
"Mate's rates?"
"All right, all right, you two. I never saw being a pimp as a smart career move so you'll have to arrange your hook-ups behind my back. Alexa, film starts in half an hour; we'd better get moving. Let him go, for God's sake. You're scaring him."
"I don't know how you put up with her," Jake commented as we finally, regretfully on my part as well, broke contact.
"She gives great head."
I choked back laughter at the exact same moment Jake appeared to swallow back astonishment. His eyes widened momentarily and I glanced down. Oh yes; whoever breaks in that bed with him will be a very lucky lady indeed.
"That's something to put on my CV, at least." I flashed Jake a double thumbs-up. "Later, Cowboy."
Dylan smirked as we left the flat, slipped his arm around my waist as we descended the stairwell. "Cowboy?"
"Cowboys like a hard ride, don't they?" I asked, and Dylan pulled me closer. "Poor boy needs one, stuck in that house nearly twenty-four hours a day.
"You'd kill him, Lex."
"Ah, but what a way to go, right?"
Chapter Two
Dylan pulled up outside my block of flats but didn't immediately undo his seatbelt and open the car door. He had a quietude about him that told me he had something on his mind.
While we'd been at the cinema he'd looked over at me a few times, but there was nothing new in that. I'd wondered if he was thinking about fooling around as we had before in the back row, but there were other patrons around us so it wouldn't have been right. We liked to take risks occasionally, but weren't exhibitionists. Not in places where we were liable to get arrested for wanking each other off, at least.
He tapped the steering wheel a few times before speaking. "He likes you, you know."
"Who?" But it was pretty obvious of whom Dylan spoke.
"Jake." Dylan gave me a sideways look, as if to say don't pretend you didn't realise.
"He tell you that? While I was downstairs taking the headboard out?"
"No." He gave a brief smirk, the planes of his face visible in the light from a streetlamp a few feet away. "Not in so many words." Dylan shrugged, and undid his seatbelt. "I mean, he's not gonna come straight out with it and say here, mate, I want to fuck your girlfriend, is he? But he does."
"Can you blame him? I'm hot."
"Yeah, well I'm allowed to say that. He probably thinks he'd be overstepping the mark, you know? Worried about causing offence."
"To you? As if you own me."
"I wouldn't even pretend to. I declined the chance to be your pimp, remember?"
"Only because there's no money in it. I did say I'd give Jake a freebie." Barely holding back the laughter, I opened the passenger door and got out in one smooth, swift movement, perfectly synched with Dylan.
He locked the car and while he waited for me to fish my keys out of my pocket, stroked my hair from the crown of my head, down to the ends, just past my shoulders. "Don't think I didn't realise what you were doing, earlier."
I held the fob up to the panel and the security door buzzed open. "Honestly, I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"If you ever get tired of poor little Dylan, you'll give Jake a call, eh?" Dylan's laughter echoed up the stairwell; my building was similar to Jake's, as were most of the homes of the people in our social circle (or not-so-social, in Jake's case). Tenement blocks were the only homes we could afford these days.
"I was clearly joking; I spoke in front of you, after all." I was sure my smile matched Dylan's.
"Like I said, don't think I didn't realise what you were doing. Putting the suggestion out there in front of Jake and me, so he'd hear it put into words. Floating the idea, seeing how everyone reacted."
"You did me a great favour," I replied, then, when we were both inside the hallway to my flat, the front door locked securely behind us, I continued, in a lower tone. "Telling him I give great head."
"Well you do." Dylan lifted an eyebrow, said nothing more.
"You gonna put that in your letter of recommendation?" I asked, backing him up against the back of the front door with the sheer force of my personality and going for his belt. There was never any doubt this was how our evening was going to end. "Dear Jake, With regard to our conversation about you fucking my girlfriend earlier..." I didn't take my
eyes off him while I undid his belt, slid down his zip. "Please read the following testimonials. Gives great head, lots of energy, willing to try anything."
Dylan's cock was halfway hard already, but then we had just spent the evening in the back row of the cinema not being able to touch each other as we'd have liked, thanks to the presence of other people. Just a brief touch here and there, pretending it was an 'accidental' brush of my hand against his crotch.
"Because you've barely left the house in months, you must be suffering from a bad case of blue balls." I ran my palm along the underside of Dylan's cock, felt it harden in my hand. "Please use Alexa as you see fit. Yours sincerely, Dylan Barnard."
"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" Dylan asked with a smirk, his eyes widening when I gave him a squeeze. "Me sending you off to fuck my friend for the night."
"Oh, a whole night? So generous." I ran a fingertip along the vein to the head of his cock, thumbed the very tip where I knew he was extra sensitive.
"Maybe not a whole night, then. Like I've said before, you'd probably kill him."
"How do you know it'd be that way around?" I asked. "The guy's not got himself laid in months. He'd ride me into the ground."
"You sound like you've given it some thought. Grip me a bit tighter."
I did exactly as he'd said, until he gasped. "Maybe I have. I'm sure I felt him get hard when I hugged him goodbye."
"You were trying to cop a feel, I know you."
"He's a big boy. Probably had to stroke one off as soon as we left. All alone in that huge new bed of his. Mind if I pretend it's his cock I'm sucking?" I fell to my knees and tongued him all the way from the base, along the vein to the tip, and looked up at him while I took the first inch into my mouth.
"I know you're going to anyway."
"Hmm." I closed my eyes and swirled my tongue around the head of his cock, tasting the faintest saltiness of moisture there and sucked harder, hearing him gasp. There was a faint pop of suction as I pulled back and looked back up at Dylan, my lips slightly parted.
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