The Best Friend Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
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“Okay, what is it?”

“I’ve … I think something’s wrong with me.”

He halts abruptly and whips his head to me, eyes searching my face. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He transfers the blanket to the other arm with the basket, touching my forehead and cheek and scanning my face with his piercing gaze. “You’re not feeling well?”

Shaking my head, I chuckle and focus my gaze on the mud clinging to his shoes. “No, no. It’s not that. I’m perfectly fine. It’s … I’ve never had an orgasm before. I think maybe I can’t.”

I shyly lift my face to his. His pupils dilate and his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows hard. The moment he speaks, his voice drops an octave. “We’re gonna have to remedy that.”

That simple answer has me clenching my thighs, trying to stop the gush of wetness from sliding down my legs. Dang it. I should’ve worn panties. Now I can’t hide the fact that I’m thoroughly aroused with only his words. He hasn’t even touched me yet, and I’m already drenched.

We eventually get to the lake, and as usual, it takes my breath away. I used to spend hours just staring at the surface, letting my mind drift, or sketching while Tristan studied beside me.

He lays the blanket on the soft grass by the water’s edge. It’s already dark elsewhere, but the mansion provides enough light for us. Someone also hung string lights on the trees.

I don’t know why anyone would do that. No one ever comes here.

I help Tristan unpack the wicker basket, taking out jars, bread, and to-go boxes. Our fingers brush occasionally, and I feel a jolt down my spine every single time. There’s a pool of warmth low in my belly, but when I look at him, it’s like it doesn’t affect him the same way.

God, what if this is a mistake? What if our friendship ends after tonight and I’ll end up without Tristan for the rest of my days? That fear extinguishes whatever desire I felt a second ago. A life without him scares me to death.

Maybe it’s because I know something’s about to change between us or that the night will end with him buried inside me, but I can’t focus on the food.

Tristan prepared my favorites—Monte Cristo with a side of curly fries, mini quiches, and fruits on a skewer.

We’re only about halfway through and in the middle of a boisterous laugh when the skies suddenly open up. The first fat raindrop lands on my forehead, and I squint at the sky. It was already night, so we didn’t notice the dark clouds rolling in. Another raindrop falls and another, each one heavier and more urgent, making the lake’s surface ripple wildly.

I scramble to gather the food and blanket, but Tristan grabs my wrist. He shouts over the roar of the torrential downpour, “Leave it, Bun. Let’s go!”

The rain is relentless, and we find ourselves drenched. We dash toward the nearest cluster of trees, and our shoes sink and slip on the mud. The mud sucks at our feet, making it difficult to run farther.

Finally, we reach the trees and huddle together—breathless, soaked, and cold. Our gazes meet and we both burst out laughing. Water streams down our faces and my clothes are stuck to my skin, but we only laugh harder.

Tristan’s black hair is plastered to his forehead, droplets of water clinging to his thick, long eyelashes, his glasses sliding down his nose. The laughter dies on his lips when he sees the way I’m staring at him. His dark brown eyes darken, and he drops his gaze to my slightly open mouth.

Just like that, the cold is gone, replaced by warmth that spreads to every part of my body.

The rain continues to pour around us, but I can’t see anything except him or hear anything except my pounding heartbeat. Tristan traces the length of my body with his smoldering gaze, and it makes me rub my thighs together. He sees it and clenches his jaw.

“Fuck.”

The words barely leave his mouth when he pushes me against the tree and kisses me hard. His one hand grips my thigh and brings it to his waist, while his other hand cups my breast. He coaxes my mouth to open and, when I do, plunges his tongue inside.

Oh God. This feels way better than I imagined.

My arms wrap around his neck, and he hauls me up, wrapping my legs around him and pinning me against the tree with his hips. His hard cock is pressed against my bare crotch, and I shamelessly rub against him. I need that friction. I need it like I need oxygen to breathe.

Droplets continue to fall on my exposed skin, but I no longer care. Both of us are so hot, I’m not sure why we haven’t combusted into flames yet.



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