Sour

by Jennifer Woodhull

  “So, you’re a competitor, and thought you’d just crash our party? Not to mention, you’re here with this asshole, so I’m afraid you’re not welcome here on two counts. Let’s go.” I step forward and Elle puts her hand up.

  “No. You go tend to our guests. I’ll make sure Nathan finds the door.” Her jaw is set as she crosses her arms tightly across her body. I meet her gaze and she nods once, decisively, so as much as it pains me, I do as she asks.

  “Let’s go,” I hear her say to them as I walk back inside.

  Chapter 14

  Noah

  After a few minutes of saying goodnight to our guests and passing out the hospitality bags full of branded samples Elle arranged for, I’m shaking hands with the last stragglers and don’t see Elle anywhere.

  I talk to the waitstaff, asking them to come back and finish cleaning up in the morning when we’re out for the day, and give them the healthiest tip the company will allow on my expense account, then lock the door behind them when they leave.

  When I turn back to the room, Elle is standing in front of one of the tall, wide mirrors next to the fireplace, just staring at her reflection.

  I walk toward her, loosening my tie, and take my jacket off, tossing it on the chair as I pass. When I get to her, I stand behind her, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Tears silently stream down her beautiful face, and all the anger I felt that night she came to my apartment with her heart broken, is back.

  “Elle, sweetheart, please don’t cry,” I put my palms on her shoulders and she meets my gaze in the mirror.

  “Did you see her?” She asks quietly.

  “I did. She’s nothing. He’s nothing.”

  “She’s someone worth throwing me over for, clearly.” Elle shakes her head, and my heart breaks a little more. “She’s not someone you make fun of with other people via text when you’re supposed to be dating her.”

  She drops her head, and I would do anything to take this pain from her. Then a crazy thought wriggles into my head, and I can’t shake it.

  “You don’t realize how gorgeous you really are. How sweet, and funny, and sexy,” I say, leaning forward just a little.

  She rolls her eyes, which frustrates me, but I continue.

  “Stop that. I mean it. It’s true. That Aussie guy wanted in your pants so bad he was willing to have you imported to his home country. Which, by the way, made me want to punch him,” I smirk, and she smiles a little.

  “You’re always looking out for me,” she replies sweetly.

  “Elle, I’m serious. You, tonight? That dress? You are fucking incredible. Every guy in this room probably had a hard-on as soon as he saw you looking like that.” I shake my head and hold her gaze in the mirror. My hands slide down to her arms, gently caressing them up and down.

  “Well, not every guy. I mean, you, for example, don’t see me that way.”

  She drops her gaze, and I lift her chin, so her eye is meeting my reflection again. Then I slide my hands down further, holding her hips.

  Her gaze softens as she holds my eye. I hesitate for just a moment, but when I realize how heavy her breathing is, how her heart is beating just as fast as mine, I know. I step forward and pull lightly on her hips. I press into her so she can feel me. I want her to feel the effect she has on me. For the first time, I’m not trying to hide it. I need her to know that I want her.

  As I ease against her, my cock is rock hard through my slacks when I press into the small of her back. Her lips part and she gives the faintest little gasp, and fuck if I don’t want to make her gasp a helluva lot more.

  I dip my head down so my lips are close to her ear without ever breaking my stare.

  “No, Elle. Every guy.”

  She’s breathing heavy now as I press harder against her. With the tips of my fingers, I begin to bunch the fabric of her skirt up in my hands, slowly. I dip my head a little further, so my lips are almost touching the sensitive skin of her neck, just below her ear.

  “You’re strong, and sweet. Funny and brilliant. You’re fucking gorgeous. No man in his right mind would give you up,” I say, my voice husky and low.

  Her smell is so intoxicating. I only had a few drinks tonight, but I’m beginning to feel buzzed just from inhaling the scent of her. Her breasts move up and down as her breath quickens. I keep bunching her skirt up into my fists, and when the bottom hem is just at my fingertips, I graze the outside of her thighs with my fingertips.

  “Noah,” she says on a breathless whisper as she collapses back against my chest. She reaches up and wraps her left hand up and around my neck, grazing the back of it with her short, red nails.

  Looking at her in the mirror, her eyes are heavy with desire. I keep pressing my aching cock against her back at the top of that spectacular ass of hers as I pull the skirt just a little more and press my fingers against her skin. She makes a little sound that just about kills me. She digs her fingertips into the back of my neck with the hand she has there, not stopping me, but encouraging me.

  My body is pleading, begging to be inside of her. I am desperate to taste her. For the moment, though, I’ll settle for seeing her experience pleasure and knowing it’s me who gives it to her.

  I dig my fingers into her flesh, sliding forward a little as I move toward the place her thighs come together. I press my fingers between her thighs, and she parts her legs, just a little, for me. I rake the edge of my thumbnail along the lace fabric of her panties from between her legs up and over her clit. Her mouth opens, and she gives the faintest little sound of pleasure that shoots straight to my cock and I swear I almost lose it like some kid.

  Her lids are heavy with desire, but she keeps her gaze fixed on mine and I’ll be damned if it’s not the sexiest fucking thing ever. I press against her a little more, and whisper against her skin.

  “Do you feel that, Elle?”

  “Yes,” she replies, breathlessly.

  “That’s the effect a strong, beautiful woman has on me.” I gently graze my lips against her neck. “You do that to me.”

  I slide my hands between her thighs again and press my index finger into the fabric between her legs. Her panties are drenched, and when I press my finger against them, she sucks in a breath and bites her lower lip. I gently glide my hand over her sex, slowly moving up and down. When my fingertips find the edge of her panties, I raise my eyebrows in question. She silently, almost imperceptibly nods her head yes, once, and I am more grateful than I have been for anything in life, ever.

  As my finger pushes the fabric aside, her lips part again, but she stifles whatever words were about to spill out, biting her lip instead. I slide my hand into her panties. My fingertips move slowly, as I feel the place on her body that I’ve wanted to touch for so long. I move my fingers down, spreading her lips and letting my fingertips find the source of that exquisite heat. I press my thumb against her clit as my finger slides into that warm, slick channel, and she gives the faintest little moan.

  I can’t help myself. I let my lips press against her neck, and gently graze her earlobe with my teeth.

  “You’re so damn wet, Elle. You’re so warm…so tight.” I slide my finger deeper inside of her and her breath hitches.

  When I press against her clit, she gasps deeper, and grinds into my hand. With me pressed against her like I am, each grind of her hips against my palm is also grinding that perfect ass against my dick. My inner caveman wants to rip these panties off of her and bury my cock so deep inside of her that she forgets any other man ever existed. Her ass grinding against me is exquisite torture. She’s not just some random beautiful woman, though. She’s the woman, and I’m doing this for her, so I concentrate on what will give her pleasure.

  “So damn sexy,” I growl into her ear as my fingers fuck her deeper, and that’s when she loses control.

  Her head lolls back against my shoulder and she quietly moans, “Fuck, yes.”

  I move faster, then move my slick fingers to h
er clit. She grinds harder, letting the hand that gripped my neck fall as she moves her hand to press against her belly.

  “Tell me, Elle. Does that feel good?” I press the words into her neck.

  “God…yes…,” She murmurs.

  “I want you to say it,” I command. “Say you’re beautiful.”

  “I…mm…,” her words melt into a moan.

  “Say it or I’ll stop,” I tell her.

  “Don’t…you…dare,” she breathes.

  “I want you to say you’re beautiful,” I reply.

  “I’m…beautiful,” she says, looking back at my reflection in the mirror.

  “You’re sexy,” I say, moving my hand faster up and down her swollen clit.

  “I’m…sexy…,” she says, looking at me intensely.

  “You’re loved,” I say so quietly the words are barely a whisper as I intensely hold her gaze.

  “I…I…love…,” and that’s all she can get out before her body begins to tense. She’s on the verge and I know that it won’t take long for her to fall over the edge into orgasm, so I keep working my fingers to pull the orgasm from her.

  Then it dawns on me. Did she say I love? Was she going to tell me she loves me?

  My hands are still stroking gingerly up and down her sex as her breathing begins to slow, and her muscles relax. I press a kiss into her temple as she lays her head back, eyes closed, against my shoulder.

  She’s about to fall, and I know that this is the moment. I can tell her everything, right here, right now.

  “Elle, sweetheart,” I wrap my free arm around her waist and press my cheek against her temple as I brace myself to say the words I’ve been thinking for so long. “I…,” as I search for the right words, the doorbell to the suite sounds.

  Are you kidding me right now?

  I hold her tighter against me, and it sounds again.

  “Noah,” Elle’s voice is a desperate plea.

  “They’ll leave in a minute,” I growl.

  The bell goes again.

  “You have to get it, Noah.” Her words are soft and just tinged with the pain of an incomplete release.

  I shut my eyes, hard, as I reluctantly let my hands drop from her, I walk toward the door, and when I cast a glance back at Elle, her gaze is fixed on me. I slide the two fingers that were inside her in my mouth and suck her juices from them as I step into the foyer, and her eyes grow large, seemingly shocked by my action. She is honeyed perfection. Tasting her makes my cock ache even more.

  Walking over to the door, I fling it open angrily.

  “Yes?” I ask, not even trying to disguise my frustration.

  “Sorry, mate.” The thick Australian accent bursts the bubble of our solitude when I open the door. “I think I left my shades. Just need to pop in and get them.”

  “Of course. Come on in,” I say, opening the door wide.

  “No, yeah, here they are, then.” He grabs a pair of Cartier aviators off the bar and slips them into his pocket.

  “Good deal. Glad they were still there.” I reply, walking toward the door.

  “On your own this evening, then?” I follow his gaze around the room and realize Elle is MIA.

  “I’m afraid not, and we were just about to call it a night. So…glad you found your shades. Have a great night.”

  I walk over to the door of Elle’s room, and call her name as I put my hand on the door handle.

  It’s locked. I knock and call her name again.

  “Getting in the shower,” she calls back through the door. “Goodnight, Noah.”

  Damn. And just like that, she has slipped through my fingers like water through a sieve.

  Chapter 15

  Elle

  Holy crap on a cracker. Noah just touched my girlie bits. He didn’t kiss me, not on the mouth anyway, but he did touch my… everything. Not to mention he pressed his giant, spectacular cock against my ass. He was hard as a steel rod.

  I did that. He said so.

  At first, I thought he was just trying to be nice. He knew I was upset after seeing my ex with some pregnant woman who had to have gotten in that condition while we were still dating. Now, though? I can barely remember his name. I can barely remember my own name. I think it starts with a vowel, but my mind is completely scrambled from being taken to the brain-shattering cusp of orgasm by my sinfully gorgeous best friend, so I can’t be sure.

  In the massive, elegant bathroom I put my palms on the vanity and examine my reflection in the mirror.

  Elle, what the heck is wrong with you? You have the most gorgeous piece of man candy on the planet thirty feet away. He wants you. He just showed you how much.

  These are all true things. Still, the thought of me actually getting everything I’ve always wanted is more than I can wrap my head around. I want Noah, I love him, and he at the very least wants me too.

  So, what the hell are you waiting for?

  I walk through my bedroom, pad across the living room, and stand in front of Noah’s door. I take a deep breath and put my palm flat against his door as I still myself and listen.

  I clench my fingers into a fist and prepare to rap on the door, a knot forms in the pit of my stomach. One word wriggles its way from the back of my brain to my consciousness and it stops me in my tracks.

  Starfish.

  Frowning, I breath out a sigh and quietly walk back to my room.

  I strip out of the dress, and my strapless bra and panties and head right for the shower.

  I turn the water on scalding hot and scrub every inch of my body with soap and force of will. When I towel off and return to the bedroom to put on my nightshirt, I realize, it’s no use. My body has been fed an exquisitely delicious appetizer, and there’s no sating it now.

  I walk over to the bed and lay back on the comforter. All the lights in the room are off. The neon glow of the strip peeks in through the edge of curtain as I lay back on the bed. For a moment, I close my eyes and concentrate on what Noah said just minutes ago.

  “You are fucking incredible. Every guy in this room probably had a hard-on as soon as he saw you looking like that.” Noah’s words play on an endless loop in my brain.

  “That’s the effect a strong, beautiful woman has on me.” He said. “You did that.” Then he made me repeat his words. “You are sexy…you are loved.” Loved. What did that mean? Was he trying to say that he loves me? I know one thing, I almost told him. The words, “I love you, Noah,” were there, tumbling out when the most delicious orgasm started to appear on the horizon, saving me from saying what my heart feels so completely.

  I don’t know why what just happened, happened, exactly. I know he wanted more. I wanted more too.

  If the bell hadn’t rung, would we have had sex? Is that even possible?

  I mean, I get that guys are different. Something physical doesn’t necessarily mean anything more than what it is for them—an enjoyable release. They don’t get their feelings all tied up in sex like I so often do. Sometimes I wish I could be more disconnected—enjoy a hookup just for what it is and nothing more.

  I remember what Noah’s breath felt like against my ear…his lips barely grazing the skin of my neck, and I rub my aching breasts. Closing my eyes, I remember him slowly pulling up my dress, and pressing his fingers into my flesh, and the ache in my channel is fierce.

  I know what I’m about to do. I’m about to lose the bet. I don’t give a fuck. I need relief. I need Noah, but there are more things wrong with that idea than I can think about. I know he cares about me, and we have a blast together. If we actually got together, though, if we tried to date, it would just fizzle out, like it does with all his girlfriends. I’d become another sad ex that fluttered in and out of his life and our friendship, the thing that brings me more joy than anything else, would be gone forever.

  I want to be strong enough to go to his room, climb into his bed and take what I so desperately need. Instead, I settle for the meager sati
sfaction I know I can provide myself.

  I move my hand down my body, imagining it’s his hand. I move my fingers to my clit and imagine they’re his fingers…then his lips. I dip my fingers to wet them in the desire that’s pooling there, and stroke my swollen, aching clit until my body begins to hum.

  After I come down, I remember how hard Noah felt against my ass, and I wonder if he has had to take matters into his own hands as well. Maybe I lost the bet, or maybe we’re both out at the same time.

  L

  My alarm rings painfully early. Last night was weird. Awkward, to say the least. I nearly had an orgasm at my best friend’s insanely skilled hand. He did things and said words that were confusing and sexy and everything I’ve wanted. I don’t know if that whole experience was borne out of kindness or pity, or…could it have been something else? Could he be feeling the same way I do? If he has been feeling feelings too, there’s no way that can become anything besides the beginning of the end.

  We’ll have to talk about it at some point. I need to understand what he was thinking. That doesn’t have to happen today, though, and if it did, I might die of embarrassment.

  So, I leave my best friend a note, and skulk down to the buffet for breakfast and coffee before he comes out of his room. By the time he catches up with me later, I’m at the table in the exhibitor’s hall, and that is not the place to talk about whatever weirdness is going on with him and me right now, which is exactly how I planned it.

  Chapter 16

  Noah

  Elle was up before me this morning. First time ever, I think. She actually got dressed, went downstairs, and ate breakfast before I made it out of my room, no doubt to avoid me.

  I, on the other hand, took a painful, ice-cold shower this morning, just like I did last night before bed.

  I still can’t believe I was holding her last night. Touching her. Making her feel…I don’t know what, but definitely something. Elle has moments of insecurity, sure, especially after the breakup with the asshole. In most areas of her life, though, she is an absolute badass. She’s strong, smart, creative, decisive and one of the funniest people I’ve ever known in my life. The idea that someone like her, someone who doesn’t need me, could actually want me makes me feel like I’m fucking invincible. When she was letting me hold her, letting me touch her, letting me give her pleasure…I felt strong, important, and want to do whatever it takes to be worthy of having her whole heart the way I had full command of her body in that moment.