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Swallow Me Whole: A Friends To Lovers Romance

Page 3

by Gemma James


  Because I need an outlet for this rampant desire raging through my blood, compliments of my sister’s best friend.

  Fuck.

  I backtrack several blocks, all the while questioning the wisdom of this unplanned side trip. Neat rows of residential houses with perfect lawns give way to the bustle of college living. People litter the sidewalk, coming and going from cafes and bars. Friday nights don’t end until closing time, and for those looking to party all night, there are numerous frat parties going on down the road. I pass one such party, throbbing bass spilling out the two-story house, and realize that Corinne might not even be home. She could have called from anywhere.

  But the last thing I’m in the mood for is a damn party.

  Truth be told, I’m in the mood for one thing and one thing only, and it doesn’t involve Corinne. Yet here I am, wheeling the car into the parking lot of her apartment complex. It’s pouring rain by the time I climb the stairs and head toward her door, and I’m relieved to see light shining through the gap in the living room curtains. She answers in sporty gray sweats and a pink T-shirt. Makeup free, she’s far from dressed up, with her blond hair pulled back in a long ponytail.

  I’ve always been partial to blondes, with the exception of one redhead who has the power to make me crazy.

  “Hi,” Corinne says before opening the door wider and gesturing for me to come inside.

  “Tearing up the town tonight, I see.”

  She responds to my teasing grin with one of her own. “Got a test on Monday.”

  “Look at you,” I say, reaching out and twirling her ponytail, “staying home to study like a good girl.”

  Long, dark lashes flutter over her deep brown eyes. “I’m just finishing up for the night. I was hoping we could…if you want to, I mean?” Swallowing hard, she aims her gaze at my feet.

  I make her nervous—the kind of nervous that’s a red flag for what I already know.

  This is more than sex to her.

  Walking away should be a no-brainer. A necessity of self-preservation. It’s the reason I distanced myself from Corinne a couple of weeks ago.

  And I don’t want to hurt her. I never set out to hurt anyone, but I’m not a saint either. What I am is upfront.

  “If I fuck you,” I say, letting go of her hair, “that’s all it’ll be. I need to know you’re okay with that.”

  “I’m okay with that.” Her voice softens. “I just want you.”

  I grab her by the back of her neck and pull her closer. “You know how I want it.”

  Heat flushes her cheeks, and something flashes in her eyes, but it comes and goes too fast to put my finger on it. “I do know, Ashton.”

  Of course, she does. She’s known about my ways since high school. Though looking back, I had no business touching her, considering she’s two years younger.

  But she’s not young and innocent anymore. My hand loosens from around her neck, trails down her spine, slaps her cotton-clad ass. I step back and issue a command with nothing more than the heat in my gaze.

  As she heads toward her bedroom, I follow, noting the self-satisfied smile she tosses over her shoulder along the way. I’ll spank her ass for that alone. We enter the tidy space in which she sleeps. One window, curtains drawn back to reveal the night through rain-splattered glass. Corinne moves to close the curtains.

  “Leave them open.”

  Her hand pauses, fingers itching to shut out the possibility of prying eyes. She glances at me once more, hesitation lining her face, and I stand my ground.

  Waiting.

  Because she knows what to do.

  Facing me fully, she gives the window her backside and grips the hem of her top before shedding her clothes without modesty. Getting naked in front of me isn’t a novelty. I point to the desk tucked against a wall, and she bends over the hard surface, sticking her ass out the way she knows I like. I pull the tie from her hair and admire how her blond locks splay across her back.

  “Spread ‘em wider,” I say, nudging the backs of her ankles with my foot as I unzip.

  She parts her legs in invitation, but more importantly, total surrender. “I’ve missed this,” she moans, grasping the edges of the desk with both hands. “I need you to fuck me.”

  “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. First, tell me why you’re home cramming on a Friday night. Were you procrastinating, Corinne?”

  “Y-yes.”

  I bring my palm down on her right cheek with a satisfying smack. “Shameful. You know better.” I smack her other cheek, using more force this time, and she flinches.

  But she doesn’t tell me to stop.

  This girl lives to take my punishments. She’ll do anything to get me thrusting between her thighs, and nothing turns me on more than a red ass. I smack her flesh for several minutes, growing harder with every flinch and gasp. A dip of my fingers into her sex confirms what I already know.

  She’s drenched as fuck.

  “God, Ashton. I’m dying here.” With a long, needy moan, she pushes her ass into my waiting palms, silently begging me to take her.

  I roll on a condom and nudge her opening, on the cusp of entering her, and that’s when I falter.

  That’s when I see the flaming shade of auburn instead of blond. The memory of Sadie’s mouth on me is too potent. Too shattering. Too fucking distracting.

  What the hell? My dick has never been so hard and ready to go, but it has nothing to do with the woman spread out in front of me, more than willing. For the first time ever, I can’t muster the will to fuck.

  Sadie has totally messed with my head, and she’s going to explain. She’s going to pay for this.

  “I can’t do this right now,” I say, removing the condom. It’s one thing to fuck a woman with no strings attached, but it’s another to do it while wishing she were someone else.

  Letting out a ragged breath, I step away from Corinne and push both hands through my hair as the foolish, confused organ in my chest plays an erratic drumline.

  Corinne stands to face me, her features pinched in disappointment. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No. It’s not you.”

  “What the hell is it then?”

  “I’m too fucked in the head right now. I shouldn’t have come here.” Zipping up my pants, I flee her apartment and escape into the downpour.

  Chapter Four

  Sadie

  Someone’s sitting on my bed, their body sinking into the mattress next to my hip. Despite The Little Drummer Boy going to town in my head, I force my lids open, blinking the grit away for several seconds.

  Jesus. Why is the sunlight so bright? Have those rays always come through my bedroom window with the power to blind a person?

  And why is Ashton sitting on my bed first thing in the morning? As I push my tangled hair from my eyes, everything that I did the night before floods back.

  “Oh, God…” I yank the covers over my face.

  He pulls them back down. “Wanna tell me why you did that last night?”

  Shaking my head with a groan, I haul my blanket over my head again and mutter an incomprehensible “no.”

  Ashton jerks the comforter below my chin, knuckles turning white from the force of his grip, and I know there’s no way in hell he’s going to let what happened last night go. And he isn’t going away until I give him an explanation. But the truth is too convoluted for even me to grasp. In my drunken state, still hurt over finding Jake with his pants down and another woman’s lips wrapped around his cock, I was drawn to Ashton.

  For comfort?

  For revenge?

  Or because…no.

  “C’mon, Sadie. You can’t suck my cock out of the blue and expect me to not ask why.”

  I let out a frustrated breath. “I caught Jake’s assistant blowing him last night.”

  He quirks an unsurprised brow, but at least he has the grace not to say I told you so. Mandy’s already given me enough hell about Jake and his womanizing vibes.

  I sit up, careful t
o keep the lower half of my body covered, and Ashton scoots over on the mattress to give me more room.

  “So you did it to…what? Get back at him?”

  “No!” My eyes wide, I temper my voice before continuing. “I was drunk. I’m not sure why I did it.”

  “How long have we known each other?”

  A very long time. Almost too long to remember the exact day I met him. “Years.”

  “That’s right. Too damn long to skirt around this. You know you can tell me anything.” He swallows hard, and for a split second, his gaze wavers. “No matter what, Sadie.” Something catches in his voice, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. Hope? Fear?

  Uncertainty seizes my heart, especially since my feelings for him are completely messed up—are nothing more than twisted vines strangling my gut. I bite my lip, deliberating, and finally settle on what little truth I can give him.

  “I guess I was curious. I’m not…experienced…in that department.” Or any department, really. “That’s probably the reason he decided to feed someone else his dick.” The words come out with more vehemence than I intended.

  “So let me get this straight. Jake decided to be an asshole because you wouldn’t give him head?”

  “Not because I didn’t want to,” I mumble.

  “Jesus Christ, Sadie. Jake did what he did because he doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know the first thing about pleasing a guy.” Groaning, I cover my face with my hands. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

  He grabs my hands and yanks them away from my face. “And I can’t believe you tried sucking me off in public.”

  I gulp.

  His icy blue gaze smolders with intensity, roaming my face, studying each nuance of my features. “You confuse the hell out of me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For confusing me, or for sucking my cock?”

  Every part of me grows warm. My cheeks, my chest, my toes…and everything in between. The fuzzy memory of last night starts an inferno in my veins. I mentally flip through the recollections like TV channels. His steel shaft wrapped in warm, smooth skin. Skin like velvet. His soft tip between my lips, leaking silky desire onto my tongue.

  The gagging.

  The groaning.

  His fingers tightening in my hair, pulling at my scalp. Begging for more. His muscular thigh tense under my hand.

  No matter how embarrassing, I can’t regret going down on him. It was a ballsy thing to do, a humiliating thing to do. What’s done is done, and now my secret is out. Despite my inexperience, I crave things my father would disown me for.

  “I’m sorry for confusing you. Last night confused me too. I’ve never done anything like that before.” I try to extricate my hands from his, but he won’t allow it.

  He leans closer, his lips parting the slightest bit, choppy breaths fanning my mouth. “If it’s experience you’re looking for, I can help you out there.”

  Time screeches to a halt. My pulse speeds up, and my hands go sweaty within his grasp. His chest rises and falls too fast.

  I affect him. Me. The girl he wrestled with in the mud when we were seven. The girl he picked on by pulling my pigtails. But more surprisingly is how he’s affecting me. One drunken, thoughtless act shifted the foundation of who we are. What we are.

  Friends…

  More than friends.

  It might be undefined and unvoiced, but I suspect neither of us can deny what’s happening here. Not after last night.

  “I don’t think…” Damn, I can’t keep my gaze from drifting to his mouth. My lips have touched his cock, but I’ve never kissed him. How crazy is that?

  “Don’t hold back now, Sadie.”

  “I…it’s not…I mean…”

  “Not a good idea?”

  “Yeah.”

  Slowly, he lets go of my hands and puts some distance between us.

  Why do I feel so disappointed?

  “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

  Not physically, but emotionally?

  “I have eyes, Ash. You break hearts for a living.”

  “Are you saying I have the power to break yours?” He seems too interested in the answer to that question.

  “I’m saying you’re one of my closest friends. I don’t want to risk losing you.”

  “I can be your friend and still be…more.”

  I read between the lines of his words. Experimenting with him will be safe. He won’t hurt me, won’t judge, and he won’t expect anything more. He isn’t the settle-down-in-a-relationship type of guy.

  And that’s the problem. I don’t know myself well enough to know if I can play around without getting my heart involved. The thought of risking what we have, of allowing our friendship to go into turbulent waters, is terrifying.

  It’s about as unsafe as you can get.

  Deep down, I know I’ll only grow closer to him through the act of intimacy. And after he walks away, I’ll want to tear out the heart of the next woman he brings into his bed. It doesn’t matter that she won’t spend more than a few weeks with him. Doesn’t matter that he’s open about being a manwhore of epic proportions. That’s a line that isn’t worth crossing.

  I open my mouth to say thanks but no thanks.

  “Okay.”

  But that comes out instead. Why does my mouth keep doing things that will get me in trouble?

  He sucks in a breath. “Are you sure?”

  No.

  “I trust you.”

  “Before we do this, I need you to know something.”

  “Okay,” I say, dragging out the word with caution.

  “I like to be in control.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He leans forward, planting a hand on either side of my body, and invades my space in a way he’s never done before.

  Like he owns the air I breathe. Like he owns me.

  “It means I call the shots.”

  I blink, stunned. Ashton’s never come across as the dominating type. Okay, well maybe a little. He’s always been super protective of his sister and me when we were kids. Truth be told, he still is. And now that I give it thought, he never asks for what he wants. He doesn’t have to since he always makes his intentions clear from the get-go. He carries himself with confidence that borders on cocky.

  Unless you know him like I do.

  Like I thought I did. His words from last night drift back to me, untainted despite my drunken state at the time.

  You couldn’t handle me.

  One look into his eyes steals my breath. The curve of his lips steals rational thought. The firm set of his jaw steals my will. Against my better judgement—against the warning staccato beat of my heart—I hurtle from everything that’s safe and familiar and boring.

  “You call the shots. Got it.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah, I get it, Ash.”

  “Okay then. It’s settled.”

  “So…” I despise the way my cheeks flush under his scrutiny. “Where do we go from here?”

  He takes my chin between two gentle fingers, his thumb stroking my jaw. His touch sparks something inside me—an ember longing to blaze. It takes everything I have not to let my eyes drift shut and just feel. A small sigh escapes my lips.

  “We go where I take us.”

  Now I do close my eyes. This is too much. Things are shifting too fast. I’m still the same girl I’ve always been, only now I want to drop to my knees and tear at his zipper. And I want him to teach me how.

  A long stretch of silence passes. Or maybe it’s short and just feels like minutes instead of seconds.

  “Look at me,” he says, the softness of his voice lifting my lids. “If you want to pleasure a man, the first thing you need to learn is how to pleasure yourself. Do you touch yourself?”

  I jerk back, alarmed by such an intrusive question.

  He won’t let me retreat. “Eyes up here, Sadie,” he commands, and that’
s when I realize I’m staring at his strong jawline. “Answer me.”

  Holy shit, this side of him both scares and thrills me. What sort of avalanche did I set in motion last night in my drunken stupor?

  “I…sometimes.”

  “Have you ever gotten yourself off in front of a guy?”

  He’s so matter-of-fact with these questions, we might as well be discussing the ways one could prepare dinner.

  “No.” I try to shake my head, but his hold on my chin won’t allow it.

  He seems to consider that for a second. “I want you to get up, shower, and dress. Lying around in bed until noon isn’t going to help your hangover.” He finally lets go of me and stands. Parting my lips, I allow a tiny breath of relief to escape. But then he tugs on the blanket. With lightning quick movements, I grab hold at the last second, refusing to let go.

  “I’m not dressed.”

  “We’re gonna have to go over some ground rules, beginning with your modesty.” He steps back and lets go of the blanket before gesturing at me with a sweeping hand. “You’re gonna be naked in front of me soon enough, so a T-shirt and panties is nothing. Get up. Now.”

  “You’re so bossy.” My words might have sass, but I can’t hide the quiver behind them. I’ve never heard him speak quite like that before—with commanding presence. With authority.

  Over me.

  He is utterly confident that I’ll bend to his will simply because he gave the order.

  Who is this guy? I can’t reconcile the version of Ashton standing before me with the guy I grew up with. He’s a fucking master chameleon.

  “Bossy doesn’t begin to describe me. Now get your cute ass out of bed before I spank it.”

  I climb off the mattress, exposing my half-naked body to his heated perusal. But I can’t stop from folding my trembling arms over my chest. Too much adrenaline is rushing through me. Too much want.

  “Is this what you mean by calling the shots?”

  He nods with a frown. “Don’t be ashamed of your body.” He gestures at my rigid posture. “Lower your arms.”

 

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