“You’re killing me, angel.”
“Good. Let me make it feel better.”
I reached between us and quickly undid his pants. I didn’t want either of us to have time to come up with excuses. A moment later, before he could dodge me, his cock filled my hands, hot and hard, and at my touch his head dropped back, and he hissed out a breath.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Let’s go to your room.”
Wishing we had more time, I gripped him tight for a few exploratory strokes. “Can’t. We have to be quick. Let’s do it here.”
“Screw quick. I need at least a few hours.”
The desperation in his voice made me smile. “You’ll have to up your game, ace. Or is that outside of your expertise?”
“You play dirty,” he said. “Fine, but next time I want at least a couple of hours.”
Then he spun me around, and I was forced to let go of him. Glancing up, I said, “Next time?”
“That’s right. If this goes how I think it will, I’m going to need a next time. And that’s the first rule. Now strip.”
He pulled off his shirt, and I lost the thread of the conversation. His abs rippled underneath his lightly tanned skin. Just underneath his jeans, I spied his tan line and confirmed a mental theory I’d been courting for a while. Tripp practiced without his shirt on. It’s why I rarely went to his practices. Eye candy for days. I wondered if I could now, or was that against the rules?
Which reminded me, “Stripping is the first rule?”
Since I was taking too long to comply, he helped me lift my shirt over my head, and his eyes feasted on my breasts even though they were bound in an unflattering sports bra that did nothing to accentuate them.
When he could speak again, he chuckled darkly, “I won’t say no to that, but I meant that we should always talk to each other. Communication is the first rule, so things don’t get too complicated.”
My nipples beaded underneath the thick material of my sports bra, but it wasn’t because it was cool inside the apartment. It was because he couldn’t stop looking at me. “I can agree to that. What else?”
He eyed me up and down, then slipped a finger down the front of my bra. “This is next,” he said.
I’d never been one to be shy about the naked body—I saw enough of them at work—but I blushed as I contorted to pull off the tight bra, my breasts bouncing free. His hands were there immediately, cupping them, lifting and testing their weight. My nipples were so sensitive that when he thumbed them, the sensation was almost painful.
My voice was thick with lust when I spoke, “I mean, which rule is next?”
Noting my reaction, his thumbs paid intimate attention to my nipples, caressing them in soft swipes that made liquid heat pool low in my stomach. “Honesty. If something changes, if you don’t want to do this anymore, then you tell me. I want you to always feel like you can talk to me.”
“Same to you,” I said, but I was breathing hard. His thumbs were masterful, and when he added his fingers, pinching and squeezing the sensitive buds, I nearly came out of my skin. “Tripp!”
“Shh, I’m trying to focus.” He leaned forward and took one of my nipples into his mouth. His tongue flicked, and he sucked deeply, causing me to arch my back against the counter. I wasn’t even naked, and I was about to come.
“So am I!” I nearly snarled.
“No one else,” he said darkly. “That doesn’t make this a relationship, because I know you’re not ready for that, but I don’t share. And if you find someone else, then you tell me, and we’ll call it quits.”
“Same for you.”
He didn’t say anything to that but helped me out of my yoga pants. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath, which left me completely bare. I suddenly remembered that I’d just been working out. I hadn’t even taken a shower. Oh my God, what if I smelled gross? Shit!
“Tripp, wait, maybe we should take a shower. Clean up first.”
“No time,” he said, and then he knelt in front of me.
“But wait, I’m probably all sweaty—ahhh!”
I didn’t have time to finish my warning. His mouth was already there between my spread legs, which he draped over his shoulders as though I didn’t weigh a thing. I threw my head back as his tongue lapped boldly at me. There wasn’t time to be self-conscious. Tripp simply didn’t allow it. He ate my pussy like he was a starved man, and I was the tastiest thing he’d ever had on his tongue.
There was no hesitation in the way he licked at my clit, no second thoughts. If he had reservations, he didn’t show them. The rasp of his stubble rubbed my inner thighs raw, but I didn’t care. What he was doing felt too good to worry about anything else.
He pulled away long enough to say, “Last rule is we don’t stop until you come.”
Based on the way things were going, I didn’t think that was going to be a problem—which was something, especially for me.
His hands spread my thighs wide, resulting in the need for me to brace my arms on the countertop behind me. The precariousness of the placement made it impossible for me to find a comfortable position. It kept me on edge, excited, uncertain. I never knew how much of a turn-on being reckless could be. Normally, when I had sex, it was always in bed, at night, with the lights off. Now, we were in the middle of my apartment, and the sun was blazing through the front windows.
Then, he reached his hands around my hips to spread my pussy apart. The action shocked me so much that I straightened and looked down at him. And that was it. I couldn’t look away. His eyes were closed as though in rapture. All I could hear were the wet, slick sounds of his tongue and lips sucking and licking at every part of me.
And the moans, oh, God, the moans.
Except they weren’t coming from me.
I mean, they were, but Tripp...he sounded like he was enjoying the hell out of himself. Which had never occurred to me before.
But it was when he opened his eyes and looked up that I truly lost myself in him. His licks slowed as he moved from the sensitive nub of my clit to the place where I wanted him so badly. With his eyes on mine, he thrust his tongue deep inside. It was dirty, so dirty, and felt so good that I cried out, grabbed his hands, and came all over his tongue.
By the time I came back to myself and the haze had faded away from my vision, Tripp was back on his feet. After a moment, I realized it was the sound of his zipper drawing down that had caught my attention. His hands pushed at his jeans, freeing his dick, which glistened at the tip with a drop of precum. I wanted to taste it, but before I could get to my knees, he stopped me.
“You put your mouth on me, angel, and I’ll lose it. Next time,” he promised.
I meant to argue, really, I did, but he wrapped my thighs around his waist and kissed me. I tasted myself on his tongue. It was something I’d never done before, but damn, I liked it.
Then the thick head of his cock was pressing against me, and the heat that had built while he was going down on me returned with a vengeance. I clung to his shoulders and his neck and threw back my head as he teased my clit back and forth with long, slow strokes. He pushed inside once, and my eyes fluttered close. He was the perfect size. Thick enough to make it hurt in all the best ways, and long enough that he went deep to make me feel like he was a part of me.
He paused, muscles straining. “Fuck me, I didn’t bring a condom,” he said and sounded like a dying man.
I grabbed at his hips with my thighs, nearly sobbing with frustration. The friction was unbelievable. All of it was otherworldly, and I didn’t want him to stop. For the first time in my life, I was willing to say damn the consequences.
“I’m clean. I get screened for work, and I got tested after Chris to be safe. I’ve got an IUD.” It didn’t shame me to talk about it. I had never really been shy about my body.
“I get screened for ball. I haven’t been with anyone since my last checkup,” he admitted, which shocked the hell out of me, considering all of his hangarounds. “But I’ll stop if you want m
e to. I wasn’t exactly planning on this.”
“No, don’t. We should be fine. I trust you.”
And I did.
With all of me.
Which is why, when he continued, I relaxed into him, forgetting everything but how he felt.
It was like his hips moved without conscious effort. I could still see remnants of surprise and disbelief on his face, which were soon replaced by rapture. We’d deal with the consequences later. It felt too good to stop.
My arms went around his shoulders, and he twisted to press me against the kitchen wall without me having to say the countertop was digging into my back. The new position made him go deep inside with each thrust, and, with the wall at my back, I had nowhere to go, no place to escape. All I could do was endure.
Strangled, high-pitched sounds that sounded nothing like me came from my throat. It was like he made me lose control. And I liked it.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “Give it to me, angel. Come on me again.”
“Oh, God.” I’d never heard Tripp like this before, never dreamed the sweet, gentle baseball star could have such a filthy-talking dirty side.
“Yes, right there,” he said, more to himself than me when my moans hitched up an octave. He pinned my hips to the counter and held me in place as he worked a spot inside me that made me see stars relentlessly.
My body tightened all around him, unbidden. I stopped breathing. All of my senses honed in on the point of contact that felt like a spark of stars inside me.
“I’m gonna come again,” I warned because it felt like an explosion about to detonate.
“Do it,” he ordered. “Now, now, now.”
I came on a harsh exhalation, my limbs like vices around him. He continued thrusting until they relaxed, and then his hips pistoned once, twice, three times, and he roared his own release. The heat of him warmed me from the inside out, and as we came down and he put my feet on the floor, I could feel it seep out and down my legs, grounding me a little.
My thighs shook, and Tripp was breathing like he’d run a marathon. “Give me a second,” he said. “I think I’m dead.” He held me until we both stopped shaking, then said, “We should clean up before they get home. Shower?”
“Yes,” I said and followed him to the bathroom.
He turned on the spray and tested the temperature until he deemed it acceptable. It felt so normal to climb in after him, but it was a delicate normality, one I wasn’t used to and wanted to savor. Tripp handed me the soap, and I used it to wash his back. He did the same to me, although he paid special attention to his favorite parts on my body. As much as I wanted to linger, the twins were due home, and then we had dinner with his parents.
Oh, God, I had to look his parents in the eye after this.
“Don’t,” he said before I could begin overthinking it.
“I can’t help it.”
“Well, try. You’ve known me forever. Nothing has changed.”
I couldn’t help but feeling like everything had changed.
Chapter Twelve
Tripp
“You sure you’re going to be okay?” I asked.
She gave me a look. “We had sex, Tripp. I’m not damaged. I’ll be fine.”
“I didn’t think—yeah, okay. I’ll get changed and then pick you three up.”
Her expression faltered. “Is this a good idea? Maybe we should reschedule.”
“Never thought you were the shy type, Em. Good to know.”
“Shut up, jerk,” she said, but she was grinning. “I’ll go get the girls. My rule isn’t that we can’t tell anyone about this. Just not...not now. I know how that sounds, and I don’t want to make you feel bad, but there’s just so much going on and I can’t—”
“You don’t have to explain it to me. Hell, I’m the one person you’ll never have to explain yourself to.”
I’d considered all the consequences of us hooking up years ago. I never thought it’d actually happen, but now that it had, I was faced with what would happen if it all went wrong. While I didn’t regret what we had done—and to be frank, I couldn’t wait to do it again—those consequences were all too real. If this arrangement went sideways, I risked losing it all. Losing her.
And that scared the shit out of me.
Looking very vulnerable in skinny jeans and a t-shirt, her face bare of makeup, and her hair a deep red from being damp, all I wanted to do was pull her back into my arms.
But I resisted.
“Alright,” she said with a shy little smile. “Well, um. I’ll be right back then.”
“I’ll meet you back here after I get changed.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Sounds good.”
Leaving was harder than I thought it would be, which didn’t bode well for when this arrangement of ours came to an end. Which it would. It couldn’t go on forever. She deserved more than just sex, but if that’s all she wanted from me, I’d make it the best she’d ever had for as long as she wanted.
Once I changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt, I shot my parents a text telling them we were on our way. After knocking on Ember’s door, I waited in the hall. On the other side, I could hear the girls shouting, and I smiled. I really did love those kids. I was an only child, so having them around was fun for me.
Ember threw open the door and said, “Two minutes, promise.”
“Take your time,” I said.
Tillie and Molly were sitting on the couch watching cartoons, their hair in identical pigtails. Their backpacks and jackets lay in a tumble by the door, the contents spilling out. I said hey to the girls, but they were too engrossed in the TV to respond.
“I’m ready,” Ember said in a rush as she hurried down the hallway. I didn’t miss that she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “C’mon on girls. Time for dinner at the Wilder’s house. Let’s go.”
There was a lot of groaning and “Aw, man”, but they did as Ember asked and followed us down to my truck. Ember transferred their booster seats—or car seats or whatever they were called—to the back row and then climbed in. Once she was buckled, we set out.
The ride was long, for the girls at least, but they only asked if we were there yet twenty times, so I considered it a win. Ember kept her hands knotted in her lap, and, as much as I wanted to take one into my own, I gave her space. This wasn’t a relationship. I didn’t get those kinds of privileges.
Lights were on inside my parents’ place as I pulled into the drive. The shadow of my mother flitted around the kitchen as she fixed dinner. She liked to fuss now that she was no longer teaching full time. Which meant she normally fussed about me, but I didn’t mind. Especially not when I was reminded what the alternative was every time Ember’s mom did something spectacularly fucked-up like abandoning the twins.
“Now, when we go inside, you make sure to tell Mrs. Wilder ‘thank you’ for inviting us over for dinner. No playing with your food, and play nice, and use your inside voices. Am I clear?” Ember said to the girls over the back of her seat.
“Yes,” they both intoned.
“Then let’s go get some grub!” I said.
Once Ember unbuckled them, the girls slithered out of their seats faster than a greased pig and darted to the front door where they knocked until my dad answered. I put a hand on Ember’s to stop her from jetting out after them.
“I should make sure they behave,” she said with a look at my hand.
“Wait,” I said.
“Tripp, the kids.”
“It’ll be fine,” I said and lifted my free hand to her cheek. “Don’t worry.”
She snorted. “Fat chance.”
“Well, try not to worry. We’ll figure it out.”
Her expression turned serious. “Don’t be too nice to me, okay? I don’t know how to handle it.”
“Learn,” I said after a moment, then followed the girls inside.
My dad already had them huddled around the train set he’d been building in the den, showing them how to work the controls. He’
d slapped a conductors hat on Tillie and was showing Molly how to start and stop the train. He’d been a conductor for twenty years before he retired last fall. Now he spent most of his time making and selling custom train sets like the one he was showing the twins.
One of my earliest memories was going to work with him when they couldn’t afford a babysitter. My parents hadn’t always had a lot, but despite that I had never wanted for anything. They had always made sure I knew I was loved.
“Hey, slugger,” he said as Ember and I walked in. The light glinted in the silver streaks running through his blonde hair. He was only sixty-five, but every time I saw my parents, they looked a little bit older. “Your mom’s waiting for you in the kitchen. She’s got a pile of food, so I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving,” said Molly with enthusiasm. Tillie nodded emphatically.
Ember leaned down to kiss them both. “Let me talk with Mrs. Wilder first, and then I’ll come get you both to eat. Behave now.”
“They’ll be fine,” my dad told her. To me, he said, “Sneak me one of her stuffed mushrooms if you get the chance.”
“I’ll try.”
“Are you sure it’s not a burden to her?” Ember said, tugging on my sleeve before we reached the kitchen. She chewed on a nail and glanced toward the open doorway.
“She wouldn’t have offered if it was a burden. They’ve both got a lot of free time since they retired. Honestly, you’re doing me a favor. Having the twins to distract them will get them off my back during the season.” At her hesitation, I pulled her into the kitchen. “It’s fine. I promise.”
Scents of meat and spice wafted from the sizzling pan my mom was stirring. She looked up and smiled at me, her glasses fogged from the steam. “Tripp!”
“Hey, Mom.”
She wrapped her arms around me, still holding the spatula. “It’s so good to see you. I’m so glad you came.”
“You, too. Mom, you remember Ember.”
Friends with Benefits (Friend Zone Series Book 3) Page 8
