Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
He glanced at my lips and I tasted victory. But a second later, he met my eyes again. “Night, Sugar.”
“Night.” I tried not to let the disappointment show on my face.
He headed down the front walk, got behind the wheel of his dad’s car and drove off. When his taillights had disappeared down the block, I shut the door and wandered into the kitchen. As I finished cleaning up, I tried to calm my racing heart.
“Stop it,” I said aloud. “Nothing is going to happen. It’s obvious. We’re just going to be friends. He wants to come for dinner again because he likes my cooking. He offered to help me paint because he’s a nice guy. He said I was family because of my friendship with Mabel. Don’t get carried away.”
But as I lay awake in bed that night, I desperately hoped I was wrong and Veronica was right. I just wanted to know what it was like to be with him. To feel desired by him. To get this thing I had for him out of my system once and for all.
Just once. That was all I needed.
Just once.
SIX
dash
Jesus Christ, I thought as I drove home. I’d almost kissed her.
I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t touch her tonight. I’d kept my distance all during that endless, waterlogged movie. I’d even caught her staring at my crotch, and I still stayed on my end of the couch.
There should be a reward for that kind of restraint.
She was so fucking pretty, with that curly hair and those curvy hips and that sweater that looked so soft it would be like hugging a cloud if you put your arms around her. And that mouth. Jesus. The number of times I looked at her lips and thought about them on my dick was fucking obscene.
But it wasn’t just physical. She was so different from the women I knew in L.A. So normal and real and down-to-earth. When she laughed at something you said, you knew she really thought it was funny. When you made a ridiculous remark, she called you out on it. When you had a conversation with her, she didn’t just talk—she listened.
Everything just felt easy with her.
Except keeping my hands to myself.
You shouldn’t go back there tomorrow night, I told myself. You should just stay away from her house for the next month, because you know what might happen if you keep spending time with her.
Hell yes, I knew what might happen.
In fact, I thought about it in great detail as I undressed and got into bed. While we were sitting on the couch, I might move a little closer. Put my arm around her shoulders. Pull her onto my lap. Press my lips to hers. Slip my tongue in her mouth. Unbutton her jeans.
My hand moved inside the elastic waist of my boxer briefs and fisted my cock.
I might slide my hands beneath her sweater. I might tug her jeans right off. I might lay her down on the rug and bury my head between her thighs. I might give her an orgasm with my tongue right there on her living room floor.
My erection thickened in my palm as I imagined the way she’d taste. The way her body would tremble. The way she’d say my name. The way she’d beg for my cock.
But this time I’d say yes.
My arm worked furiously, my stomach muscles flexing, my breath coming fast.
This time, I’d strip her clothes off myself. I’d get my mouth on those luscious tits. I’d push inside her tight, wet pussy and fuck her hard and fast, hearing her cry out with every thrust, and then I’d come so hard I wouldn’t be able to think or see or even breathe.
You know. Emotional depth stuff.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whispered through clenched teeth, the climax rippling through me.
When I was completely spent, I lay there for a moment, my chest heaving, my conscience spiraling. Was it wrong that I was getting myself off while thinking about my sister’s best friend, just like I used to when she was sixteen and sleeping down the hall?
Probably. But damn, it felt good.
The next morning, Austin picked me up and we went to the gym together.
“Why the hell did you tell Ari I could fix her car?” he asked as soon as I got in his truck.
“Because I didn’t think she’d let me take it to a mechanic, and the thing is barely alive,” I explained as I pulled the door shut. “It needed serious resuscitation.”
“Oh. So where is it now?”
“Harbor Garage. It’ll be done later. Can you take me to pick it up?”
“Yeah.” He reversed out of the driveway and glanced at me. “That was nice of you. Having her car fixed.”
I shrugged. “She doesn’t have a lot of extra money right now. And it wasn’t much for me.” I waited for the Bulge Bucks joke, but he didn’t make one.