by Alexa Day
You knew that when she kissed you too, didn’t you? And now you’re the friend and he’s the fuck buddy and that’s the way it is.
“Grace, I’m not trying to pull anything. I need someone who’s not in a relationship. I need someone who’s willing to tell me everything. I even need Tal.” He hated the way that felt in his mouth. “Look, I don’t want you to get hurt. That’s no secret. And if these pills make you see things a little differently, then so much the better. But I really just need your help.”
“Good. Because I know Tal doesn’t want a girlfriend. So we’re all on the same page.”
John nodded, lifting both hands in surrender. “Right. I get it.”
“Okay.” Grace pursed her full lips. “If I do this, what would happen after the sex?”
John swallowed, hoping she didn’t sense the sudden rush of discomfort that seemed so painfully obvious to him. “Then you report back.” He cleared his throat. “To me.”
A mischievous giggle bubbled out of her. “You want me to have sex with Tal and then come back and tell you about it.” Coming from her mouth, the idea sounded ridiculous. “I presume you would need this to happen more than once.”
“Well…there are eight pills in a pack.”
Grace picked up the blister pack again and stared at it in silence. As John scrambled to scrape up the last of his persuasive powers, she said, “Deal.”
The tension that had been crushing him released its grip. She’d do it. “Oh, Grace. I owe you big time.”
She tucked the pills into her purse and laughed. “I have a feeling the pleasure’s going to be all mine. Just don’t be too disappointed if nothing changes between me and Tal,” she said. “And don’t be too shocked when you hear about what we do together.”
Chapter Two
As many times as she had been here, Grace still felt like a criminal, hurrying alone down darkened streets in search of something dirty and dangerous. To make matters worse, parking spaces were harder than usual to find on a Monday night. Somewhere people must have been watching the game, but she couldn’t see or hear anything like a sports bar as she hustled from her parking spot past empty storefronts. When she arrived at her destination, a warehouse located farther away from her car than she preferred, she checked the windows at the top right corner of the building. Bluish light flickered in the darkness there.
Good. He’s home.
Grace pressed a button beside the big metal door and unleashed a resounding buzz into the space beyond. She stepped away from the door and watched as more lights came on behind the upstairs windows. She pulled her coat tightly around herself and started an awkward little dance, trying to ward off a chill that descended onto her after she had taken one of the pills at the bar. Perfectly normal, John said, since oxytocin regulated body temperature. That didn’t make it any less uncomfortable, but Grace knew she’d be warm soon enough.
The clanging of locks preceded a loud rumble as the metal door slid open on its track. Barefoot and clad in well-worn jeans and a plain black t-shirt that clung to his hard body like a shameful secret, Tal Crusoe gave Grace the naughty grin that never failed to make her melt.
“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?”
The sight of him, the deep voice that sounded like old Virginia money, the eager heat in his blue eyes—all of it wrapped around her, banishing the cold for good. Her breath quickened and her sex grew warm and heavy, the muscles there flexing hungrily. The thought of him inside her, working her hard, overwhelmed her with its intensity. The new depth of her need surprised her. Could the pills be causing that as well?
Grace’s fingers longed to stroke his blond hair, and she noticed its casual disarray. She cursed herself for not calling before racing over here. Maybe he had another woman up there. Maybe he’d just sent one home.
“I brought you something,” she said.
“I bet you did.” He looked her over as if they’d been apart much longer than a few days, and then moved out of the doorway to let her in. “Come on. It’s cold out there.”
Despite the concrete floor and walls and all the open space, the converted warehouse that was Tal’s home and workplace remained quite warm. His loft overlooked the personal training studio where he led clients through fitness programs tailored to suit their individual needs, goals and personalities. Radiators maintained a temperature comfortable enough to sleep in the nude and on top of the covers, even in the dead of winter.
Tal slid the front door closed again with a rumbling roar. His shirt hugged his powerful frame as he moved, hard muscle flowing and shifting in a lovely advertisement for the male anatomy. Grace swayed slightly as she watched him, as if her hips and her legs and her hands had minds of their own, all desperate for his touch. When Tal turned to her, she shrugged out of her coat, responding to his gaze on a primal, instinctual level by beginning to undress.
He took her coat from her and flung it away into the shadows. His mouth covered hers, and as his arms wound around her waist, Grace pressed her body to him, opening her mouth to let their tongues duel and play. The sound of her breathing was harsh and loud to her ears. This intense craving for him excited her and she tugged at his thick hair, pulling him closer, wanting more. But Tal withdrew from her mouth and nipped her earlobe with his teeth.
“What’d you bring me? Hmm?” His big hands roamed over her before settling on her hips and slowly inching her skirt up and up and up. “Is it under here?”
Oh, yes, yes, yes. “Getting warmer,” she whispered. Her palms slid down the back of his neck and over his shoulders. She loved the way he filled her hands, as if he’d been made for her pleasure.
His tongue slowly caressed the sweet spot at the corner of her jawbone. His hand slipped beneath her skirt, gliding over her thigh onto her ass. God, the man put out heat like a furnace. She reveled in the sharp, clean scent of his skin.
“Is it up here?” Tal swept his hand between her body and his, nudging her thighs apart with his broad palm. His fingers stroked the scrap of fabric that covered the wet heat of her pussy. The sensation building between her legs rocked her like an earthquake and Grace whimpered, shamelessly bucking against his hand. His breath teased the fine tendrils of hair just in front of her ear. “Want more?” His husky voice sent a rush of heat through her. “Tell me what you want.”
“Make me come,” she whispered. She closed her eyes and let him work his sensual magic. “I want you to make me come.”
“Right here?” His fingers worked their way under her thong, where she was hot and slick, more than ready for him. “Now?”
Grace moaned, opening her legs to make way for him. He pulled her closer until her side was flush against his chest, his arm around her waist. She drank in the heat and strength of his body as he drove her higher and higher.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Tal, make me come.”
He teased her first, stroking her swollen mound with his fingertips. His wicked chuckle made her shiver with need, and then two of his long, thick fingers plunged into her. Then three, filling her easily, in and out. The surge of pleasure took her by surprise, so strong that she cried out with equal measures of shock and delight. The earthy fragrance of her arousal mingled with the coarse rasp of her breath and Grace let her head roll back as the rich sensations carried her away.
Tal’s grip tightened around her. His breath caressed the tender flesh of her throat, and an instant later he fastened his mouth against her pulse, sucking on her hard. Then the broad, rough pad of his thumb flicked her clit, once, twice, before his firm touch rested there for good. Grace flew high over the edge, lifted up on a wave of ecstasy so intense her ears rang, so powerful that she couldn’t hear her own cries.
When she drifted back down to reality, Tal steadied her in his embrace, letting her settle her weight on her feet again. She had just started to catch her breath when he released her. He took her hand in his, still wet with her juices.
“Come on,” Tal said. “I’m not done with you yet.�
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* * * * *
Spooned tightly against Tal’s warm strength, Grace couldn’t see his enormous flat-screen TV, but the theme to the latest of the late-night talk shows told her what time it was. She was usually sound asleep by now—unless the two of them were still going at it. Tonight, as she stroked the powerful forearm that lay draped over her, sleep kept its distance. Tal had given her everything she’d asked for, and now from her place in his bed, she wondered if she’d be able to find her clothes in the TV’s flickering light.
Was this what it was like for men? Completely satisfied, but still looking for the door?
“You gonna tell me what this is about?”
Tal’s abrupt question made her turn over toward him. His face was in shadow, backlit by the television’s glow, but there was no mistaking his focus on her.
“What do you mean?” she asked. Guilt pricked at her. She’d been so excited by the idea of the pills, and then by their effects, that the matter of what to tell him had simply slipped her mind.
“You come over here out of the blue, on a Monday night. No phone call, no text, nothing.” He sat up and leaned against the headboard, folding his arms over his chest. “You’re all over me the second I shut the door. Now you’re looking around for your clothes like you’re in a hurry.”
Grace opened her mouth to apologize, but he cut her off.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. Any time you want to come over in the middle of the ball game to pounce on me, you’re more than welcome. I’m just saying it’s unusual.”
She rolled onto her back with a sigh and looked up at him. Where to start? How to start? “The friend I hang out with every week,” she said. “He’s a biochemist.”
Tal raised his hand to stop her. “Am I going to need a beer for this story?”
“Probably.” She smiled. He might need more than one, but Tal wasn’t one to overindulge. At least not with alcohol.
“Are you?” he asked.
“No, not for me. I don’t think I’m staying.” Saying it made her decision feel more real, but the words still sounded strange to her.
She propped herself up on her elbow to watch Tal cross the loft’s open space to turn off the TV. The play of light and shadow on the long lines of his muscular thighs would be an artist’s dream. When he opened the refrigerator, a wide shaft of golden light spilled across the room and revealed the perfect curve of his ass, accompanied by the soft sound of clinking bottles. “So what about your friend the biochemist?”
“He gave me some experimental pills.”
The refrigerator door closed with a slap. “Whoa. Experimental?”
“Yeah.” Grace bit her lip. Why hadn’t she put more thought into this?
She couldn’t make out his expression in the darkness when he asked, “How experimental are they?”
“They go through two rounds of testing, one to make sure that they’re safe, and then another to make sure they do what the marketing says they’ll do.” She sat up in bed and hugged her legs to ward off the chill created by Tal’s absence. “See, if the ads claim the pills will do things that they actually can’t, then the government gets involved.”
Tal got back into bed next to her and twisted the cap off his beer. “What do these pills do, supposedly?”
“They suppress oxytocin. It’s a hormone that causes women to feel attachment after sex. The pills should keep me from making our friendship into a relationship.”
“I like the sound of that,” he said, lifting the bottle in salute before taking a long drink from it. “What do they do for me?”
“That is what they do for you,” she said.
“So they don’t make these for men?”
“I don’t think they do, Tal. I guess there’s not that many men complaining that they want the same sexual freedom that women have.” She rolled her eyes and then squealed when he brushed the ice-cold bottle against her thigh.
“Hey,” said Tal. “We have feelings too, you know.”
“I think that’s another set of experiments.” Grace swung her legs over the side of the bed and turned on the lamp. She lowered herself onto the hard floor and found her thong where Tal had dropped it, right beside the bed.
“Wait, your friend the biochemist is a he?”
Grace dropped onto her hands and knees to retrieve her bra from under the bed. “Mm-hmm, that’s right.” She stood to find herself facing Tal’s sly smirk. “What?”
“So why aren’t you at his place with him instead of here with me? Like I said, I’m not complaining, but this sounds like a golden opportunity for your friend to…deepen his friendship with you.”
Grace fastened her bra and slid the straps over her shoulders. “John’s not like you. He doesn’t want to have sex with me.”
That was probably for the best, all things considered. She’d been like an animal from the second Tal opened the door. Her friend with benefits welcomed that sort of behavior. She wasn’t so sure about her best friend.
Tal lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Is John married?”
“No.”
“Is John gay?”
“No.”
“Then John wants to have sex with you.” Tal took another drink from the beer and then pointed the bottle at her. “Which makes me think there’s something wrong with these pills. Side effects or something.”
“They’re not going to do anything to you.” Grace stepped into her skirt and reached behind herself to zip it. “Honestly, men get so paranoid when it comes to their dicks.”
“So explain to me again how come you’re not doing this with your friend.”
“John and I are not friends the way that you and I are friends.” She shook her blouse free from the welter of bedding on the floor. “I didn’t think you’d have all these questions.” Grace paused to slide the partially unbuttoned blouse over her head. “You know what I think? I think this offends your ego. I’ll bet this has never happened to you before.”
“This has nothing to do with my ego.” Tal put the beer on the nightstand. “But you’re right, this has never happened to me before.”
Grace patted Tal’s six-pack. “Then this experience is going to be good for both of us.”
At the door, she refused his offer to walk her back to the car. He’d probably tease her all the way there, now that he had a new topic to add to his repertoire of favorites. She found her coat dangling from a bar situated over a narrow bench. Tal sat to watch as she slid her arms into the sleeves.
“You should come back upstairs.” His voice dipped low, turning musical and seductive. “I didn’t know we were testing before. None of that should count.”
He leaned toward her, his elbows on his knees. He was temptation incarnate, and it would be so easy to let him throw her coat aside again, so she could feel the hard length of his erection with only his jeans and her skirt between them. But her earlier hunger for him had been replaced by an equally intense desire for the solitude of her own bed.
“Go to sleep,” she said.
He pouted at her as he rose to open the door.
From the oversized windows, Tal watched Grace make her brisk, nervous walk down the block and out of sight, and he waited there until her car passed by a few minutes later. For someone who gave herself over with such abandon in his bed, she sure had a lot of hang-ups. He’d never understand why his neighborhood freaked her out so badly. And her hair. He thought she was going to hit him last week when he’d gotten her hair wet.
He’d coaxed her into staying long enough for a morning shower. In the steamy heat, she’d amused herself by making him turn around beneath the water, first in one direction and then the other, appraising him with one of her mischievous little grins. Grace stood safely away from the water, carefully wetting one of his washcloths before withdrawing to the far end of the bathtub to smooth lather over her long legs. She had made Tal promise not to touch her, so that she’d have some chance of getting to work on time without her hair looking all wi
ld. Instead he had caught her by the wrist and pulled her to him, the water running over them both, his cock at full, aching attention against the supple fullness of her thigh.
They’d both gotten wet that morning. Very wet and very warm and more than a little loud. As she’d promised, Grace had been upset about her hair—but not until later.
Maybe that was why she’d left so early this time. If she thought he was going to stop fooling with her hair…well, she was wrong about that. He thought it looked just fine, wet or wild. Still, she’d been a little weird tonight. More responsive than usual. More aggressive than usual.
Tal grinned. If those experimental pills caused all that, he’d be more than happy to test them out as much as she wanted. He could live with that kind of weird.
Too keyed-up now to sleep, he returned upstairs and threw the empty beer bottle into the plastic recycling bin with a loud plink. Turning back to bed, he noticed another bottle on his end table, a half-full leftover from the football game Grace had interrupted.
The letter lay next to the bottle and beneath the remote control. Tal pinned the envelope to the table with his finger and pulled the letter out, careful to avoid the condensation left behind by the forgotten beer. He traced the delicately drawn tendrils of ivy that marked the left side of the envelope. Equally delicate handwriting spelled out a return address he had committed to memory. He tucked the letter between his thumb and index finger and took it back to bed.
He studied the lettering that formed his name on the front of the envelope, looking for something in the shape or spacing of the letters that would have given him a clue as to the surprise that lay inside. Nothing hinted at the sucker punch concealed in the pretty paper. Tal opened the drawer of his nightstand and tossed the letter inside with the others.
He hadn’t really been lying when he’d said Grace’s postcoital departure was a new experience. That was true in its way. Somewhere in that drawer, beneath a stack of ivy-adorned letters was a note written on the corner of a takeout menu, something that had been waiting next to his alarm clock one morning years ago. He had been left to sleep alone then too.
