Why? That little voice was back and it was whining. She had the distinct impression that it wasn’t coming from her brain but from the ache that had settled deep down in her core. It seemed to have a logic all its own.
It’s not like it could ruin their friendship, not when there was no friendship to be had. And it wasn’t like either of them was in a committed relationship, so there was no danger of anyone else getting hurt.
But she could get hurt. Wasn’t that what she’d always known? From day one she’d known that someone like her wouldn’t hold his interest. As a friend, maybe, but not as a girlfriend. She’d started to believe that no one woman ever could.
Back then she’d made the logical choice with Jessie. She’d chosen the safe one, the one who did long-term commitments. She glanced over at Jessie who was grinding against Camille on the dance floor. He did do long-term commitments, just not with her.
The safe choice had been a disaster.
So why not let her hormones lead this time around? It wasn’t like she was a teenager or a virgin anymore. She wasn’t the naïve young innocent she’d been back then, the one who couldn’t imagine sex without a commitment. So then, what was the harm? If there was no chance of restoring their friendship, and she went into it with her eyes wide open…
He took a sip of his drink as he watched her and when his smile broadened she became self-consciously aware of her face. What had he seen there that made him so amused? She’d never had much of a poker face even when she was feeling sane and composed, she could only imagine how much she’d given away in her current state.
He leaned forward suddenly, his elbows on his knees. “All right, buttercup, what’s the hold up?”
“Excuse me?” He was acting like this was no big deal. Like a sexual, no-strings hookup was something he coordinated on a daily basis.
Actually, maybe it was. But this was highly irregular for her. “I didn’t say—”
He ignored her protest. “You’re clearly tempted.”
She stopped speaking so suddenly her jaw was left hanging in the wind. She couldn’t even pretend to deny that. Of course she was tempted. He was the hottie friend she’d never even let herself contemplate, not like that. He was her (former) best friend and her (former) boyfriend’s (former) best friend.
But all those qualifiers made that excuse awfully week. He wasn’t her best friend, not anymore. And he wasn’t Jessie’s best friend, and even if he was, Jessie wasn’t her boyfriend. So what was her hold up?
In one move, Drew shifted from his side of the booth to hers so he was pressed up against her in the small seat. She stopped breathing as the warm, hard muscles of his arm rubbed against hers. She was wearing a strappy tank top that provided no barrier against his heat and his hardness and his…maleness.
Being close to his maleness had never been an issue before. But now… Now everything was different.
He wasn’t her friend.
The thought, which had caused so much pain all year, still stung. But it also gave her a sense of freedom that she’d never known she’d wanted.
Jessie was no longer her boyfriend.
She tried it out in her brain, testing for the same reaction.
Yup. There it was. A lightness that had been buried underneath the pain.
Huh.
Well, hell. She’d been waiting a full year to find the silver lining, to see how any of this shitshow could somehow be okay, and for the first time she got a glimpse of it. She latched on to that glimmer, and held on to that light feeling in her chest for all it was worth. A laugh started to bubble up in her chest at this new sensation, but before it could come out, she stopped breathing again, effectively squelching the joyful giggle.
Drew was leaning over so close, his lips were brushing against her ear. She shivered at the touch, bolts of awareness arcing through her like lightning. The desire to laugh died as did all of her earlier reasoning about why it would be a bad idea to sleep with Drew.
It seemed like a genius plan at this precise moment. Her body was telling her it was so right, so how could it be wrong?
His breath was hot against the sensitive skin of her neck. “You’re obviously tempted,” he repeated. “What’s stopping you?”
She wanted to talk but then he picked up her hand which had been lying limp in her lap and started to stroke the back of it with his thumb.
She hoped the music was loud enough to cover the soft moan that escaped her at the gentle touch. Jesus, had it been that long since she’d been touched by a man that a stroke of her hand made her ready to hop onto his lap?
She stared at his thumb moving over her hand for so long she was full on mesmerized. Hypnotized by the motion that should have been soothing, but instead was making the tension within her ratchet up exponentially.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” she managed to say. That was the best protest she could come up with. She didn’t know if it was a good idea, but she didn’t know if it was a bad idea, either.
“Why not?” His lips were brushing against her ear now, not quite a kiss but a temptation. Just enough of a touch to set her skin on fire. “We’re all adults here, right?”
She nodded. That was true. She wasn’t the eighteen-year-old she’d been when they’d first met. She wasn’t at his caliber of experience, obviously, but she’d been around the block. She was a grown woman who knew what she wanted.
And she wanted to fuck her former best friend.
She swallowed down another giddy laugh at the unbidden thought. Focus. This was serious.
His free hand moved to her leg, settling on her knee and making her thigh muscles tighten at the contact. Higher. She wanted his hand higher.
Oh hell, what was she doing? They were in public. She glanced around, but no one was paying attention to them. All eyes were on the couple of the hour. Jessie and Camille.
She looked at them too, and for the first time in a long time the sight of them together didn’t make her gag. She didn’t have much of a reaction at all, really, except to be glad that they were the center of attention and not her.
If everyone was watching them, no one would notice if she moved her hand closer, closer…
She heard his quick inhale as her hand settled on his thigh, not high enough to be copping a feel but judging by his groan in her ear, close enough to make him as turned on as she was.
“Is that a yes?” he growled.
She should think this through. She wasn’t in her right mind.
But instead, she nodded. For the first time in a long time, she acted first. She’d deal with the fallout later.
And there would be consequences.
But there would also be fun. And satisfaction.
And…ah hell, she needed to have his hands on her body before she exploded with pent-up sexual frustration.
He nibbled on her ear, making her gasp. “Say it,” he ordered.
She turned to face him, his eyes so close she could see the flecks of gold in them. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Seven
She was doing this. She was doing this. She was really freakin’ doing this.
Her mind was stuck on repeat as he dragged her out of the club and onto the streets of the Lower East Side. His apartment was close, five blocks east in Alphabet City. She’d been there once, right after he’d moved in and right before all hell had broken loose at karaoke night.
They walked in silence, which was unusual for them. Did he feel it too? This crazy tension between them?
Not the bad kind of tension, filled with anger and misunderstanding. This was purely sexual, like a current of energy between them that had built up to max capacity. Like the air around them might burst into flames if they didn’t find some sort of release.
His hand was tight around hers as he half dragged her down the street and into his apartment building. Their breathing was the only sound in the echoing stairwell as they climbed the four flights to his floor.
He unlocked it and ushered
her inside, flipping on the light as he followed her in. It was exactly how she remembered it. A cluttery mess of guitars and strewn clothes with a smattering of eclectic art on the walls that she was sure he’d picked up from sidewalk sales and thrift stores.
In the silence she felt compelled to say something. As if she and Drew were strangers and she had to be polite. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
Before she’d finished speaking, he moved in front of her and pulled her into his arms. Her last word was muffled as he thrust his hands into her hair and tipped her head back, his mouth moving over hers with a rough intensity that left her breathless.
Her knees gave out, a fact she would surely be embarrassed about later. She’d never swooned before, and wasn’t prepared to start. But at that particular moment, she didn’t care. He caught her against him, holding up her weight and crushing her to him.
He seemed as out of control as she felt as his tongue twisted with hers and his mouth moved aggressively, silently asking for more and more and more, like he couldn’t get enough.
Neither could she. She moaned against his mouth and that only seemed to make him more crazed, one arm holding her to him as he moved his other hand down to grab her ass and pull her up against him.
She gasped as his erection pressed against her lower belly, hard and undeniable.
A flutter of panic shot through her. What was she doing? This was Drew.
But then his lips were back, scrambling her senses as he drew her tongue into his mouth and sucked.
She moaned and let her brain shut off. She’d made her decision. She was here, in his apartment, mere feet from his bed.
There was no turning back now.
That sense of resignation, of giving in to her fate—it undid the last of her reservations. It was done. She might as well enjoy the hell out of it.
She stopped being a passive participant then. Her body knew exactly what she wanted even if her brain had hemmed and hawed. Her hands were everywhere, smoothing over his shoulders and biceps, soaking up the heat of his skin through the T-shirt. Then she moved to his chest—God, that hard chest that she’d lusted after secretly for more years than she cared to admit.
She needed to feel his skin, the T-shirt’s mere existence made her angry as she tugged and pulled to tear it off.
He let out a short huff of a laugh before pulling back to help her. But his amusement faded as he turned his attention to her clothes. Quickly and efficiently he whipped her tank top over her head so she was clad in her bra and a skirt.
“Jesus, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.
Her face grew heated. She’d never thought to hear those words from that mouth, and certainly never in that tone.
He pulled her closer so her body was once more pressed against his, this time with their bare skin touching, his hard abs pressed against her soft belly, her breasts crushed against his gorgeous chest. There was a hint of desperation in his voice when he paused and asked, “Are you sure?”
Was she sure?
“Absolutely,” she breathed. She’d made her decision and now she’d never been more certain of anything in her life. Screw the consequences. For once in her life, she was going to follow her gut and take what she wanted without worrying about how it fell into her plans or whether it was the safe choice in the long run.
Her certainty was rewarded by another low, primal growl from Drew as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her over to the unmade bed.
She let out a breathless laugh as he tossed her onto the sheets before climbing on top of her. For a second, it was her and Drew. He was laughing down at her and it was him. And her. Like old times.
But not at all like old times.
It was the same but different.
And it was amazing.
His gaze caught hers as he hovered above her and his smile faded into something deeper. More intense and far more intimate.
She thought he was going to say something, he looked like he might. But instead he kissed her. Slow, deep, and thorough, this kiss was nothing like the fierce, frantic, messy kiss earlier. This one said they had all the time in the world.
All night, at the very least.
She melted into the bed and into his arms. Her muscles turned to liquid as his lips and tongue worked their magic. The kiss was thorough and intoxicating, washing away the last of her reservations and her brain power.
The kiss was perfection. For a little while, she’d never be able to say how long, he kept his hands at her cheeks, cupping her face as he savored her. That’s what it felt like, at least. Like she was being tasted, sampled…adored.
The way he held her, the way his lips moved over hers. Every last touch was filled with such care, such longing, she felt her chest squeeze with unnamed emotions. The urgency hadn’t been replaced, but it was tampered with something deeper. This wasn’t just hormones and body parts, it was a connection, a union…a homecoming.
At some point the tempo of his embrace changed once again. He deepened the kiss as his hands moved from her face and over her body, moving restlessly as though he needed to touch every inch of her.
Skimming over her arms, her waist, her stomach, his touch was needy and demanding. When he finally reached one of her breasts and molded it through the skimpy lace bra, she was burning up with lust.
Lust. For Drew.
God, what was happening? And was it happening to him too?
But then his fingers found her nipple through the lace and he teased her mercilessly until all thoughts of whom she was with and why went flying out of her mind. All that mattered was that he keep touching her.
Never stop.
“I’m not stopping,” he murmured reassuringly in her ear.
Oh God, she’d said that out loud.
Wrapping her arms around him, she let herself bask in the feel of his warm skin that rippled beneath her fingers with every move of his muscles. God, those muscles. They were even better up close and personal.
His lips moved to her neck, nuzzling and licking as his hands caressed her breasts, moved over her belly.
She couldn’t take much more. Whether it was him, or the fact that she’d gone too long without sex, her body was primed and ready.
Now.
With a whimper of desperation, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing herself against his erection with shameless abandon, silently begging for him to give her what she needed.
He groaned, the sound sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Then he ground his hips against her making her cry out.
Her skirt had risen up and his hands slid over her thighs and hips before grasping her ass and pulling her even closer still. Only one pair of jeans and a skimpy pair of panties separated them, but it was too much. Way too much.
She kissed his jaw, his neck, tasting his indescribably delicious skin. God, had he always smelled so good?
Yes. Always. She’d known that.
But she hadn’t known that he tasted even better.
“I can’t wait much longer.” His words sounded like they’d been wrenched from him through a tense jaw and gritted teeth.
“Thank God,” she whispered.
He pulled back at that and they shared a short, breathless laugh of disbelief. Holy hell, who would have thought it would be like this between them?
He reached one hand up and cupped her cheek in his palm one more time, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Are you sure?”
She stared in disbelief for a heartbeat. Was he really asking her that? Again? But at the same time, her heart did a funny flip in her chest at the genuine concern in his eyes. He would stop now if she’d asked.
She wasn’t sure she could say the same. If he tried to back out now, she might hurt someone.
Licking her lips so she could speak, she managed, “Positive.”
He groaned again, dropping his head so his forehead rested against hers for a moment. And once again she got the feeling he was savoring, treasuring…adoring.<
br />
And then he was moving. Shedding his jeans and boxers before tugging off her skirt and panties. She didn’t have time to feel exposed or embarrassed before he was back on top of her, condom on, between her thighs and poised at her entrance.
He held her gaze as he entered her, his cock edging in slowly with each thrust.
She was wet and tight, gasping with pleasure at the sweet torture as he filled her up so completely she forgot how to breathe.
They moved together in tandem, naturally finding a rhythm like they’d done this before. Like they’d always been doing this together. The friction of his chest brushing against her breasts, of his lips meshing with her, it was hypnotic and all-consuming. An irreversible tidal wave of sensation was building in her, blocking out everything but the feel of his skin, the taste of his mouth, the look in his eyes.
When she came, she cried out his name and felt him shudder with a groan moments later.
Oh hell, she’d needed that.
That was the only thing she could think as her limp, utterly satisfied body gave in to the overwhelming desire to sleep.
Chapter Eight
No one should feel this good first thing in the morning. He couldn’t stop grinning as he flipped pancakes. Hell, if Livvy wasn’t still passed out in his bed he’d be whistling a jaunty tune. Maybe even doing a tap dance, who knows?
All he knew was, he’d never felt so good in his life.
And it wasn’t just the sex.
Okay, a lot of it was the sex. Because that had been epically awesome sex. But it was more than that. He’d had good sex before, but nothing compared to that. That had gone deeper than just two bodies coming together.
And it had been with Livvy. His Livvy. The one woman who knew him better than anyone else.
His best fucking friend.
But also more than his best friend.
Hopefully.
Maybe.
One thing at a time.
He cast a quick glance in her direction and saw she was still sleeping. Jesus, she was beautiful when she slept. She was stunning when she was awake but when she was sleeping she looked so soft and vulnerable. It was a side of her he rarely got to see, a side few ever got to see.
The Plus One (Starting From Zero Book 3) Page 9
