The Best Friends Anthology (A New City Story Book 5)

by Stefanie Simpson

  He scratched the stubble on his neck and pushed the batter aside. “What do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know. That’s my point.”

  “Who hurt you?”

  “Lots of people.”

  His eyes dimmed as he folded his arms. “I’ve done the scene, and I don’t want it. There’s a certain expectation of me. I have to be a certain way, but it’s just not what I want. I can be vanilla.”

  I couldn’t breathe. “Scene? Vanilla?”

  Stepping closer, the intensity of his eyes made my heart lurch.

  “I’m a nice person. I like art and walking. I enjoy films, music, and yes it’s part of me, but I’m able not to. And I’m not asking you for that. I just want to see someone. Date. No expectations. No negotiations. Not having to be this one thing because it’s what is expected of me. I’m more than one thing.” He looked me dead in the eye.

  “I thought you were a fuckboi.”

  He laughed. “No. I mean it. I’m not asking to be a dom, and right now, I’m not looking for it. I want some fun. Company. That’s it.”

  “Casual dating?”

  “Yes, if you want to. But exclusively.”

  “That’s not a problem. Are you sure you want me?”

  “Yes. You’re perfect. Hot, funny, clever, sexy, good in bed, what else is there?”

  Blinking, I cocked my head. “Why? Why can’t you have those things and that part of your sexuality?”

  “It’s… do you know what a munch is?”

  “Snack?”

  “It’s when kinksters meet up and socialise. It’s a specific kind of space. Part of it is being free to be who you are, but that comes with pressure, in a way, to perform it. The scene was great for me, I learnt how to do this, but at the same time, I became a role. One I love, don’t get me wrong, but… I don’t know. I’m tired.”

  “I’m sorry.” I fidgeted. “Okay, I’d like to date you.” I tried to be casual, but I think he saw through it. Sweat prickled on my back.

  With a smirk, he kissed me, hoisting me up onto the work surface. My legs went around him with my heart hammering.

  “I want pancakes.” I leant back.

  “I’ll pan your cakes in a minute.”

  With a laugh, I tried to squirm away. “Promises, promises.”

  I squealed as he pinned me, kissing down my front.

  “I’m a man of my word.” He nudged my legs apart and massaged between them.

  With his mouth below my ear, he kissed gently. “You can ask for what you want. Don’t hold back with me.”

  I made an incoherent sound that should have been words, but my brain mushed as he un-popped the buttons on my jeans.

  “Do you want me to be sweet? You want romance?”

  A wickedness came over me. “No. I want you on your knees.”

  He laughed and sank down in front of me, pulling off my jeans, leaving me naked and exposed.

  With my legs over his shoulders, he ate me. There no other word for it. He ate my pussy like he was starved, and I came way too quick. He licked his mouth, eyes heavy when he pulled away.

  “Fancy a quick, dirty fuck?” He pulled his t-shirt off before I could draw breath and gave me the eyebrows as he undid his jeans.

  I nodded, my mouth watering.

  In a flash, I was undressed, and he hoisted me over his shoulder, leaving the pancakes forgotten. I laughed, still feeling my quick orgasm. He threw me on his bed and put a condom on. I was discombobulated as he pulled me by the ankles and set them on his shoulders.

  He was in me hard and quick. He held my thighs, fingers gripping me to his body, and I held his wrists because I needed to hold on. My body jolted, and I watched him. Needy, almost vicious. He was amazing. His eyes flickered, and he slowed. Our gazes met. He moved deep and smooth and reached somewhere no other man had.

  “There.” He hummed.

  I squeezed his wrists and squirmed; it was almost too much, but he kept me in place. Hips working as he knelt. Looming over me. This was vanilla?

  I lost thought. I couldn’t tell you what happened because my orgasm built deep inside, spread through my arteries, nerves, and into my muscles.

  I know I screamed, that my body went rigid and I half-sat up as I clenched on the brink of release and then it hit, almost painful it was so intense, and I took over fucking his cock, thrusting up to him, as he stayed still for a minute. When I came down, shuddering and moaning, he pulled out and flipped me onto my knees.

  “Fuck, your pussy so sweet, look at it.”

  I laughed, and he bit my arse cheek. I yelped, but he grabbed my hips and pushed inside.

  I fell forward, arse in the air, and I’d not been fucked that hard and deep, ever. My whole body felt it. I needed it. To feel his desire reached the core of me.

  “You’re incredible.” Strained, panting, he came with a shout.

  He pulled out and fell back. I could see his heart beating. He looked at me, drugged and grinning.

  Then I fucked everything up. He was amazing, and I saw how this would go. I’d fall for him, and he’d get bored. I’d see his flaws and weaknesses. He’d break me.

  I saw it all play out. Sex wasn’t this good. Guys weren’t this lovely. Especially ones like him.

  “I should go.”

  He licked his lips, still catching his breath. “What?”

  I staggered up and left the room, finding my clothes and dressing quickly. Panic crept up, but I didn’t know why.

  “Why? Are you okay? What did I do?” He followed me.

  “Nothing. You’re incredible.” I didn’t look at him, but he barred the kitchen doorway while I found my jeans. “Wait, wait. Don’t go, tell me what this is about.”

  I made myself look at him. “I think you’re too much for me, not in a bad way, but you’re gorgeous, and I’m not. You’re interesting, and I’m boring. You call that vanilla? Really? Non-kinky, boring sex to you is the best sex I’ll ever know. And at some point soon, you’ll see it. You’ll be bored. By which point I’ll be besotted and spend a year getting over it.”

  His mouth moved wordlessly.

  I stepped closer and reached up. “You’re a dream come true, and if I didn’t still feel you inside me, I’d think you weren’t real.”

  With a kiss on his cheek, I pushed past, grabbed my bag, picked up my boots and virtually ran to my car.

  He didn’t follow. Numb, I drove home.

  Nine messages. Not creepy or weird but concerned. I nearly answered but felt so ridiculous and horrible, I couldn’t.

  Lots of I’m sorry, and I hope you’re okay. As if he did something wrong when it was me.

  Then he called. It was Friday, and he’d given me a few days space.

  Anne and I were power watching a series while I knitted, and she cross-stitched, living our best young granny lives. But I was distracted by The Good Sex and the man who I’d shared that with.

  Anne stared at me as I stared at the phone when it rang. My knitting in one hand, phone in the other, shaking. I answered automatically.

  “Hi.”

  “Can I see you?”

  “Why?”

  “Because you took me by surprise, and I’ve been thinking about you. What you said. And I’d like to respond.”

  It wasn’t unreasonable, I mean it was pointless, but not unreasonable.

  “Okay but not here.”

  “Fine, here then.” He sounded exasperated.

  “Now?”

  “Now.” The command in his voice drew me, and I stood up.

  In leggings and a slouchy jumper I’d knitted years ago, I grabbed my keys and coat. I didn’t think, couldn’t; I acted. My coat hung off one shoulder, and I knocked his door in a daze.

  He opened it, grim-faced, and gave me space.

  We sat in his living room. It was bright and comfortable. I don’t know why, but it surprised me.

  “Right.” He perched opposite me on
the coffee table. “When I saw you, I saw a pretty, bright woman that looked like fun. And hot. Just, you’re exactly my type, I don’t want to date from the scene. I’m tired of it. I told you what I want. I want you. But you don’t get to tell me how I’m going to feel about you. The things I want to do with you,” he bit his lip, lust hard in his eyes, “but I won’t ask. I want to date you. I’ve been thinking about the night we shared and the pancake incident. I’ve not had that kind of banter or felt free enough to relax and be myself in so long I’d forgotten what it felt like. When I’ve had relationships, I’ve been a role, an identity to fulfil a purpose. You reminded how I could feel as a person.”

  Emotion closed my throat.

  “All I’m asking is a chance. I want to get to know you.”

  “I knit. I like reading. I’ve never been loved. I’m quiet unless I’m drunk. I can’t cook for shit.”

  He grinned.

  “I like romantic films. Nature documentaries and museums. I’m no-one.”

  “I think you’re someone special and sweet.” He was so genuine and gentle.

  “Oh, cock it, let’s do it.” I threw my coat off.

  His eyes grew wide. “What?”

  “Get your kit off.”

  “Fuck yes.” He whipped his t-shirt off and had me over the side of the sofa in a second.

  His mouth hovered near mine. “Don’t freak out and run off. Just talk to me. I won’t bite unless you beg for it.”

  I whimpered, and he laughed before kissing me hard.

  When he came up for air, the confidence he nudged to the surface within me appeared. He set me so at ease but excited me, and I wanted to experience things with him. He pushed my jumper up.

  “I should make it up to you,” I said.

  “Oh, I agree.”

  I reached between us, finding him already hard. “Would you like to fuck my mouth?”

  His eyes went wide. “Do you know what you’re asking, Princess?”

  “Princess?”

  “Sorry, it’s a habit.” He frowned.

  “I’m not pretty or glamorous enough for that.”

  “Are you shitting me? Feel how hard to get me. Fuck. You’re lovely.”

  My skin goosed, and he whipped off my jumper, kissing around my breasts. I pushed his jeans down.

  He got off and stripped before returning the favour, yanking everything off me.

  He lay over me, and I urged him up. I didn’t tease, but took him, warm and hard, into my mouth. Sucking and working him until he went on his own.

  In shallow thrusts, he went slowly, and I clutched his nice, firm arse. Working deeper, I took what I could. Tapping him, he eased off, and went carefully, before pushing deeper again. I gagged, but he kept going, moaning, lost in pleasure.

  When it was too much, he pulled out, and I heaved a breath. He stared; jaw clenched.

  “Sorry, I tried.” I wiped my mouth and eyes.

  “That was good. So good.”

  “Really?”

  He stood, urging me with him. “Get upstairs.” He slapped my arse, and I yelped with a laugh and took off. He chased me.

  I’d not felt a thrill like it. He growled as he caught me up. I squealed and laughed with his hard, wet cock pressed into me as he walked me to the bedroom.

  He grabbed a condom, rolled it on, and pressed me against the wall. Lifting a leg, he hitched it high, nudging his tip in me.

  “Ready?” His muscles strained.

  “Yes.”

  He thrust hard, shoving me up the wall.

  “Arms up.”

  Above me was a bar under a shelf I’d not noticed.

  “Hold it.”

  Holding my bottom, he took me when I obeyed. Punishing and ruthless.

  “Don’t walk out on me like that again.”

  “I won’t.” My arms shook with strain.

  “Will you promise? Huh? Talk first.” Every word was a grunt.

  “Yes. Promise.” I gasped.

  He came, sudden and desperate. My clit pulsed.

  He pulled out and put me on the bed.

  Disposing of the condom, I was a little disappointed but smiled.

  “Did you think that was it? No, that was hello.”

  The urge to tease was too strong. “Not every guy is good at getting women off.” I managed not to laugh.

  “You’re a brat, not a princess. I’m going to fuck you into next week. You’re going to come five times, no six.” He pulled my thighs open.

  “You say that but...”

  He laughed. A full belly laugh. He flipped me over.

  “I don’t think you could be vanilla if you tried.”

  “No. Probably not. I’m sorry.” His hand stilled on my back.

  “I don’t mind. I love the way you do this.” I turned my head to him.

  He pushed my legs wide. “Would you want to try it?”

  “I think so. Depends what’s involved.”

  “Trust. Communication. Your absolute wellbeing is mine. Your needs are mine. In exchange for submission for that gift, I’ll give you everything you want.”

  I tried to turn, but he pressed his hand on my back.

  “I will give you pleasure.” He kissed down between my shoulders. “Show you sensations you’d never thought of. Pain. Ecstasy. Fun. Fear. All wrapped up in me. Safe with me. On your terms, but for me. It’s complicated. Takes time.”

  All his words were punctuated with kisses and fingers exploring me. He kissed along the underside of my bottom and licked and fingered my pussy.

  Moaning, he brought me close. Then moved away, rolling on another condom, he eased in with his arm sliding underneath, cupping my pussy. Massaging, he took his time. I came hard, but he kept going, pressing his weight down.

  “I want to pin you.”

  “Yes.”

  I needed it. Everything. He pulled a pillow over and wedged it under my hips.

  We shifted as he grabbed my arms, gripping them tightly, leaning on his elbows, and kept moving in long, deep strokes. His breath and body on top of me.

  It was too much. It built up. Higher and Higher. Deeper. Longer and slower until my body trembled and spiralled into orgasm. I couldn’t move like usual. It was so intense I shouted into the duvet, and he moaned a laugh. I went lax.

  “I love this.” He circled his hips into my arse, still hard.

  “Yes.” I was exhausted.

  “Hmm. I’m not finished but lie still, and I’ll tend to you.”

  I shivered, relaxed and sated, as he went again in slow, easy movements.

  Yes, I loved it too.

  Adam kept going like that. I couldn’t move, just experienced it. He kept talking to me, reassuring me, I understood I was reassuring him too as he kept me with him.

  He whispered filth to me, of fucking my arse, tying me up, hurting me; all the naughtiest things I could imagine and more I hadn’t, he wanted to do with me. My heart hammered when I came again, sweat coating me. In slow motion, pleasure wound through me, and I sobbed my release.

  He raised up, let me go, and moved in deep strokes, harder, faster, and I loved it when he came with a blissed-out cry.

  Cleaned up afterwards, he pulled me close, kissing me, until I nestled in his arms.

  I’d never been that happy. Truly desired. Beautiful in the hold of a tattooed man, unlike anyone I’d known.

  I’m good. Quiet. Sedate. I have a tee that says ‘knitter life’ for crying out loud.

  Something about him brought out the best, or very fucking worst in me, and turned me into a horny sex obsessed bitch.

  And I loved it.

  “Rest now before I fuck you again.”

  I kissed and sucked his nipple bar, and he hissed.

  “Definitely a brat.”

  “But yours,” I said it before thinking.

  “Yes. Mine.”

  Completely relaxed, I snuggled down.

  “Let me
take you out tomorrow. Cinema, dinner, drinks?”

  I grinned into his chest. “Yes.”

  He wasn’t anything like I expected or the kind of man I imagined myself with, but here I was, exactly where I wanted to be.

  GOOD TIME

  Nerves wound through me, it was silly, I mean we’d fucked already, and the day before was lovely. But this was different. We met at an entertainment complex near a retail park with restaurants and bars.

  He was already there, snug check shirt and jeans, even his hair was neat. The grin that crept over my face was uncontrollable, and he hugged me tight. He smelt so good, and I melted into his hold.

  “Ready?” He kissed the corner of my mouth, took my hand and led me into the cinema. We curled up near the back and ate popcorn. I tried to pay attention, but it passed me by, and I kept glancing over at him. Once or twice, he caught me and laughed at my embarrassment before squeezing my hand or leaning over to kiss me. He was sweet and affectionate. It was dangerous.

  After, as my ears rang, and the crowd seemed bright, he guided me out and to a chain restaurant where we settled at a table.

  “Did you like it?”

  “Huh?”

  “The film?” He looked up from the menu.

  “Oh. Yeah, it was good.”

  He leant back, bunching his lips. “Really? Name one thing that happened?”

  I blinked. “Um…”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  I knew the redness on my face signalled my thoughts, and I became intent on the menu. “I think I’m getting a burger.”

  “Claire, it’s okay.”

  I set the menu down and pressed my hands flat. “I’m out of my depth.”

  “With me or the situation?”

  “Both.”

  He reached over and took my hands in his. “I really like you, get used to it or end this before it goes further. I understand caution and hesitancy, but you’re not here, not up there.” He let my hands go and pointed at my head. “It’s your choice, but you ought to make it.”

  The impulse to spill secrets to him welled up. Things I’d never really spoken of. My life hadn’t been easy, and I’d fought for who I am now. Sex and relationships hadn’t really countered into that, I’d not been really able to.

  Adam’s eyes were deeply open, but they were a little guarded as I made myself look at him.