Even though the scene in her room had begun much like he’d imagined. His pretty Anne was jilling off to porn. No one snapped a laptop closed that hard or that fast unless they were doing something they didn’t want anyone to see.
When the mattress had bowed and slid her against him, he’d felt the gentle vibrations under the blanket and the way she’d squirmed beneath the covers; it made his cock so hard. His first instinct was to reach beneath the blankets and make her come like she was dying—she’d be screaming his name, unable to find fulfillment with a quiet whisper.
He palmed his cock, sliding his hand up and down the shaft slowly as he thought of her. His go-to fantasy all those years ago was much the same as it had been these last months, of sliding his cock into the valley between her breasts, her thumbs grazing back and forth over her nipples as she held her tits firm around his thrusting cock. He imagined drizzling warm massage oil over her tits as he fucked them, her head dipping to take the crown of his cock into her mouth.
Chase knew he should be filming this for the site—he had to put up new material—but he needed to come so badly he couldn’t think. He could always take the performance enhancer later.
This, right now, was about him and Anne. Not displaying himself to pay for this house or for med school. This fantasy wasn’t for anything but enjoying how it felt. He wouldn’t deny he liked filming for the site. Seeing a million hits and knowing all of those people were bringing themselves off to his image was great for his ego.
He squeezed the bottle of Astroglide over his straining cock and smoothed the gel up and down the length of his shaft, imagining its slickness to be Anne’s pussy. Chase groaned as he stroked himself, pushing up into his fist, knowing that drilling Anne would be even better.
Her cheeks pink, her sexy mouth open, that black hair spread out behind her and the marks on her skin where he held her hips to guide her to meet his thrusts. He imagined the feel of her nails digging into his back… His Anne would be like some wild animal in her passion.
If this were real, he would have tasted her sweet cunt, licked between her thighs until she came on his face then fucked her until she came again. Here, in his fantasy, he could be a selfish lover. Take what he wanted and spend without drawing it out.
His balls tightened and his cock surged as he pictured spilling his jism all over her tits and lips, her hot pink tongue lapping at his cum. Chase’s orgasm hit hard and fast, the sensation fading just as quickly as it bloomed into something that he didn’t want to name.
Chapter Three
“There’s a man for you.” Chase referenced Gin’s earlier decree and waved with his beer at Seth Grayson, who’d just pushed through the door of The Bottleneck. He nodded in reply and made his way over to their table.
That statement was proof positive to Anne that Fate had one seriously twisted sense of humor. Before she’d discovered the Dreamed Desire site, there had been some light flirtation and possible interest on both sides of the Seth/Anne equation. Now there was only Chase.
Seth wasn’t the average med student on his way to a god complex. He’d been raised by his grandmother and had the manners of a gentleman at a cotillion. He had a quiet, yet still confident way about him that exuded a surety and safety that would serve him well in his chosen specialty. He was going into obstetrics and gynecology.
Chase was forever giving him grief about “taking his work home”, even though Seth wasn’t that type of guy. In the four years Anne had known him, he’d never had a girlfriend and there were no rumors of any hook-ups. He didn’t seem the type for a one-night stand or casual sex.
It wasn’t that he was hard to look at. He was built like a Norse god—tall, broad and blond. But he was quiet and more concerned with his studies than socialization. Anne thought that alone was sexy.
“Yeah, maybe Seth and I should go out,” Anne said, slyly watching Chase for his reaction.
“He’s not your type,” Chase replied, and took another drink of his beer.
“No? But you just said there was a man for her. Why not Seth? He’s a good guy,” Gin said.
“Actually, Seth is more your type.” Chase nodded to Gin.
“He’s not interested in me.” Gin sounded certain, but suddenly she found the napkin under her beer overly interesting.
“What did I miss?” Seth queried as he joined the table.
“We were debating if you should go out with me or Gin. Although Chase thinks you’re more Gin’s type,” Anne supplied.
He nodded as if he were considering the matter in detail. “Well, I guess it will have to be you, Anne. We all know Gin is hardcore fangirl for Chase,” Seth said matter-of-factly.
Gin blushed to the roots of her hair.
“Aw, Tank. I didn’t know you cared.” Chase smirked.
“I don’t,” Gin said in a rush.
“No? Too bad.” He winked at her—knowing full well that Gin wanted a piece of him.
“It is, isn’t it?” Gin shook her head and sighed. “You owe me, Anne. I’m talking first born.” Then she grabbed Seth’s hand and led him out to dance in front of the stage.
Which left Anne alone. With Chase.
She shook off her trepidation. It was stupid. She’d been alone with him plenty. Hell, they’d slept in the same bed on their senior class trip in high school, and other times besides. Sitting with him at a table in The Bottleneck while having a beer and listening to their friend’s band play wasn’t anything to be afraid of.
Even though she’d been paddling the pink canoe to images of him earlier. That was fantasy. This was reality. Two completely different things.
“What was that about?” Chase asked with a raised brow.
In all honesty, Anne had no clue. It seemed for a second Gin had swooped in like an expert wingman to give her time alone with Chase. Why would she do that? Chase was finally starting to pay attention to Gin. It was as if she were pushing them together.
“I don’t know. She said I needed a man and then takes the only available one at the table.” Anne shrugged.
Chase grabbed his chest and made a choking noise. “Right through the heart.”
Maybe this was the segue she needed to talk about what she’d been feeling? Maybe fantasy could be reality. “Oh? And you’re up for gigolo duty?”
“Anything for a friend.” He grinned lasciviously.
Friend. A firm reprimand back to the Friend Zone. Or maybe he was playing it safe too? “Sure.” Anne nodded, slapped her hand on his thigh and slid it near to his hip. “What’s a little fucking between friends?”
For a moment, Chase’s cheeks billowed out, full of beer. He looked like a cartoon chipmunk with his cheeks packed to save up for the winter. Anne had the urge to poke one cheek and see if that would make him spew like a beer geyser. He finally managed to swallow.
“I didn’t think women called it that. I thought it was ‘making love’?”
“For such a smart guy, you can be a dumbass. It has to be ‘making love’ because I have a vag? I thought you knew me better than that.” Oh, they were skirting dangerous territory now—and it thrilled her.
“When was the last time you fucked someone as opposed to made love?” Chase questioned, his expression serious.
She wanted to lie. To tell him she’d been with as many men as he’d been with women, but her numbers were nowhere near his. Then there was the fact the last guy she’d had sex with, she’d loved. Head-over-ass, stupid-for-him type of love. “Never.”
“You haven’t been with anyone since Jim the Jackass?” He was incredulous.
“Nope. I’ve gotten very close with Bunny,” she confessed.
“Who the hell is Bunny?” he demanded.
“My Rabbit. The plastic kind with batteries, not the furry kind.”
His cheeks billowed out again but he swallowed more quickly this time and spluttered.
“Don’t ask if you don’t want the answer,” she said sweetly. Anne liked having him off balance. He was always supremely
confident in everything he did, every goal he set for himself. Knocking him for a loop was a difficult task.
“Anne, did he hurt you that badly?”
Damn. There went her advantage. “I’m okay.”
But she wasn’t. Jim had broken her heart and left her disillusioned. Was that why she’d suddenly turned to Chase? He’d always been her safe haven and now, was she expecting him to fix that part of her life too? He seemed to be able to fix everything else. It wasn’t fair to push her needs onto him. Not until she was sure she could meet his as well if he did feel something for her other than friendship.
He studied her intently. “You know, I never liked him anyway.”
Good old Chase, always there with the standard best friend script. And he meant every word. He never liked any of her boyfriends. From the first time in fourth grade when Billy Ludkins made her cry all the way until Jim the Jackass. He never thought any of them were good enough.
“You never like any of them.” Anne smiled.
“Because you have shitty taste in men, sweets. Except for me, of course. Now come dance with me.”
“Oh no, I—” She started to demure, but he’d already pulled her from the chair, his hands already on her waist.
His familiar scent washed over her and the security of his strong arms quickly squelched any protest she could muster.
“It will be harder for them now,” he promised.
“Why is that?”
“You’re living with me and I’ll take care of you.”
“Are you going to wait up on the porch with your shotgun?” she murmured into his shoulder.
“If I have to.”
“Would it be okay if I did the same to you?” she tossed back, her lips bare inches from the pulse in his neck.
“Sure. Any girl you don’t like is gone,” he said with conviction.
“I didn’t like Randi.” Anne knew full well her name was Randa but mispronounced it on purpose, and he didn’t correct her.
“I know. And she’s gone.”
“She broke up with you.” Anne laughed into the curve of his shoulder. It was an effort not to rub her cheek against the soft material of his t-shirt and let her hands wander the broad planes of his back.
“I was getting to it.” His hand traced up her spine in a casual caress.
Anne realized she wasn’t dancing with him as she would a friend, but clinging to him as she would a lover—their dance a preview to how their bodies would work together, all sweat-slicked and needing. Her hands had splayed over his muscled back and her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She couldn’t catch her breath and the casual touch of his hand on her back caused her to imagine all the other places he could be touching her. She was wet for him again, and all the bliss that brief touch promised.
His breath was warm on her cheek and she wondered what would happen if she tilted her face up to look at him. Would he thread his strong fingers through her hair and kiss her? If he did, would it be gentle and sweet or hard and demanding? Would it be all she’d imagined, or would it be like kissing a brother?
Anne had kissed him once in seventh grade. It had been one of those kissing games. Even at twelve, he’d been a knight in shining armor. He’d been so careful with her, told her they didn’t have to… She wished the memory was clearer because she’d shoved him on top of the pedestal of her expectations. Regardless of what happened now, this moment would be replayed over and over again in her head and she’d remember every indrawn breath, every stray touch or casual brush of skin while she brought herself off.
The tempo of the music changed. The band’s last set was done and a DJ was now in control of the sound. A dance beat blared through the speakers and Anne was bereft. She didn’t want this moment to end.
But Chase didn’t let go.
Yet the moment had changed nonetheless. The sweetness was gone, but the raw desire remained. Chase moved his body against hers and she let the thumping beat take over. The music pounded through her and she obeyed its call—shifting her hips and swaying in time. His hands moved from her back to her hips, releasing her only to let her spin with the breaks in sound.
She worked herself against him—and heat flooded her cheeks when she realized he was hard. Startled by his reaction, Anne looked up at his face and saw pure lust in his eyes.
Hot need coursed through her and made her slit clench and ache. It was only a dance, but feeling the evidence of his desire and the reality of him meshed with the fantasy—all of those images came crashing in on her at once. Of watching him touch himself, of fantasizing about what it would be like to do those things for him and have them done to her.
The mouth she knew so well curved into his easy smile—she imagined it wet with the evidence of her desire. The arms that fit around her so often strained with his efforts, her nails digging into his back while he drilled into her…
“Sorry.” Although his tone said he was anything but. He leaned in and whispered against the shell of her ear. “That’s what happens when a beautiful woman grinds on me. Even if she is my best friend.”
She licked her lips. Damn. Back to the Friend Zone again. Even though part of her cried that it was the Beautiful Friend Zone. It was just as well. Her earlier convictions reasserted themselves. It was for the best.
But her mouth refused to cooperate with that train of thought. “Does that mean you want to stop?” Anne knew her words sounded like the most blatant of invitations, but her body was on fire. She’d play it off later if she had to, but she had the idea this thing she felt was like a freight train quickly running out of track and she couldn’t slow down.
“Do you?” He turned her, pressing against her backside intimately—as if he wanted her to know the extent to which she affected him.
Rather than answer, she slid down the length of him and back up again, working her ass against the hard ridge beneath his fly. He grasped her hips hard to anchor her against him and electric jolts ricocheted through her, from deep in her belly all the way to her clit. But she wanted more. She couldn’t get close enough.
Anne turned to face him and looked up into the turbulent storm in his green eyes. The music continued to throb and pound and it seemed as if it were pulsing in time with her need. Her body moved almost against her will.
Chase’s hands slipped from her hips and cupped her ass. His steady gaze never left her face as he eased his knee between her thighs. He lifted her up on his leg as they danced and his thigh rubbed the seam of her jeans against her pussy.
At the first stroke, she gritted her teeth against the intensity of the sensation. She wanted to tell him to stop, she wanted to run away, but she needed to come more. Anne’s body wanted this, no matter what her common sense told her.
“Do you like dancing with me, Annie?” He moved again, shifting his leg between her thighs and pulling her higher. She wrapped her legs around his hips and he held her there, the hard ridge of his cock where his leg had been.
“Please,” she begged, unable to answer.
He gripped her ass tighter and increased the pressure on her slit. Anne gave up all pretense of dancing, or even moving to the music, and allowed him to move her as he would. She tightened her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.
Jolts of desire stole every sensation but that of Chase thrusting in a mock act of coitus. It was on the tip of her tongue to beg him to take her home, to strip her bare, but she bit down on her lip and rode the waves of pleasure he wrought.
“Chase!” His name was torn from her as the mounting tension crested, and she shuddered as the orgasm took her, more intense than anything she’d ever felt with her Bullet or Rabbit.
He stilled as she stopped writhing, but she could feel his heart still pounding against his chest and his need evident in the press of his body against hers. Chase made no move to find his own release, but let go of her.
Anne was trapped—she had nowhere to look now but up at him. She could look or she could run. She wasn’t a coward,
so she turned her face up to his. The music was still thumping, people danced on around them, but the world had stopped for this moment between them. It hung gravid with possibility.
Until the heavy beats stopped and melded into something soft and slow. She leaned against him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His erection was still like steel, but he held her softly. There was no expectation in his touch.
Anne didn’t know if she wanted there to be or not. It would have been easier if he’d demanded his gratification like a god claiming his due. She could still pretend they were caught up in the moment, but that wasn’t the case. The moment had passed.
And then even the soft music stopped. It was over. Time to pay the piper.
Chase took it from her, like any other task she didn’t want. He brushed his lips over the top of her head in a gentle dismissal. “Thanks for the dance, Annie.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Was that all it had been? A dance? When the sun came up in the morning, would he be able to forget this? Would she?
Anne nodded. “Yeah, you too. It was fun.”
Fun? Like the amusement park? Why had she said that? It had been so much more than that. She knew they’d have to talk about it, but the window was gone. Seth and Gin were headed their way.
“Somebody’s going to jail.” Gin grinned.
“For what?” Seth asked.
“Alcohol abuse.” She pointed to Chase’s thigh, where Anne had been riding him like a pony.
She was mortified to see a damp place down the fly of his jeans. She’d done that with her need and then her release. Anne blushed so hard she thought her cheeks were going to burst.
“Yeah, I’m a klutz. Can’t hold my beer,” Chase admitted casually. His face was a mask that betrayed nothing.
Anne wondered if mortification could be a fatal condition. She almost hoped it was.
“Let me buy you another beer,” Gin offered. “It’s last call.”
“No thanks, I have to drive. Maybe next time?” Chase didn’t wait for her to answer, but put his hand on Anne’s back to guide her out the door.
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