by Whitney G.
Only if I get three eggrolls that I don’t have to share.
Sure. Be there in twenty.
I got out of bed and straightened my room, something I never did when he was on his way over. I moved my food and beverage magazines to the window sill and cleared my desk of all my half-written recipes, leaving only my notebook, so it would like I’d been writing.
I made the bed—tucking the sheets in for the first time in months, and as I was vacuuming, I suddenly stopped.
What the hell am I doing?!
I returned the vacuum to the closet and finally changed out of my dress. I put on the most unflattering pair of sweats I owned—along with a large T-shirt, and pulled my hair into a low ponytail. To perfect my “look like a bum” effort, I found my makeup remover wipes and brushed them against my face, until every bit of foundation and mascara was gone.
When I finished, Carter walked into my bedroom—Chinese food in hand.
“I lied about the eggrolls,” he said, setting a brown bag on my desk. “You’re going to have to share at least one of them.”
“That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“It also wasn’t part of the combo special.” He tossed me a fork and froze—looking around my room with his eyebrow raised. “Did you and Chris come back here after your date?”
“No, what makes you think that?”
“Because this is the cleanest I’ve ever seen your room.” He handed me a white box. “Is your mom coming to visit you tomorrow?”
“No, I just felt like cleaning up.”
“Right.” He took a seat on the edge of my bed. He stuck his fork in my bed of rice and lifted a piece of chicken onto his plate. “What really happened on your date? There’s no way he brought you right home in that dress.”
“We found a park and …” I paused. “Everything was going right for the most part but …”
“Do I even want to know the rest of this story?”
“No, but for future reference, if you ever start going down on a girl, please refrain from saying ‘Nom-nom-nom’. It kind of kills the mood.”
A smile spread across his face, and he held his laughter back for all of five seconds.
I rolled my eyes. “Feel free to stop any time now.”
“I can’t.” He laughed harder. “That’s really sad. So much for your ‘pretty decent’ sex.”
“No, what’s sad is a guy who claims he’s going to sleep around for the summer, but he’s not able to get it up for several days in a row.” I leaned back against my pillows, laughing.
“Is it really that funny?”
“You not being able to have your infamous “rough and dirty” sex? Yes, it definitely is.” I shut my eyes, still laughing, and the next thing I felt was his lips on mine. Threading his fingers through my hair, he kissed me harder, rougher—forcing me to open my eyes and look at him.
There was no sudden break away, no “What the hell was that?” between us. There was only a shared look of understanding, a silent confirmation that I wanted him to take things further. A lot further.
Pulling away from my mouth, he trailed his fingers against my lips. “Is there any reason why you decided to put on the worst clothes you own before I came over tonight?”
“What makes you think I would do something like that?”
He didn’t answer. He slowly slipped a finger into my mouth, and groaned when I flicked my tongue against it. Smiling, he slipped in another finger. “You can’t lie to me, Ari,” he said, pushing his fingers in and out. “I see right through you.”
“These aren’t my worst clothes …” I muttered around his fingers.
“They are.” He smirked, moving his fingers away. “But they’re not going to prevent me from fucking you tonight.” He pulled me out of the bed and made me stand in front of him.
He ran his hands across my breasts—palming them through the fabric of my shirt, making me moan as he gently twisted my nipples. “Take off your clothes.”
I stood still, entranced by the feel of his hands on me.
“Ari …” He squeezed my breasts.
“Yes?”
“Take off your clothes.”
I hesitated for a few seconds, and he leaned forward and gently bit my bottom lip.
“Right now,” he said.
I grabbed the hem of my shirt, but he placed his hands over mine and helped me pull it over my head. Without him saying anything else, he pulled the drawstring on my sweats, keeping his eyes on me as he stepped back and took off his shirt.
My breathing slowed as he unbuckled his jeans, as he slowly stepped out of his briefs and exposed his cock.
Oh my god …
I could feel my jaw dropping, feel redness crossing my cheeks, but I somehow managed to get out of my panties without taking my eyes off of him.
He grabbed my hand and placed it against his chest—trailing it across his abs, then lower and lower until I could hear his breathing slow with every touch.
His mouth latched onto mine again and his hands went around my waist, gripping me so tightly, I could feel his fingers digging into my skin. Sliding his hand down a little lower, he slapped my ass. Hard.
“Ahhh …” I cried out, as he did it again. And again.
The sharp pain was a complete contrast to the softer way he was kissing me, and I couldn’t explain why, but I loved the way he was making me feel.
I moaned as he began to slow our kiss, as he suddenly pulled away from my mouth and spun me around. His cock was against my ass, and his mouth was on my neck—softly biting my skin.
Shutting my eyes, I felt him running his hands up and down my sides, heard him whispering, “Am I allowed to fuck you the way I want to?” He bit me a little harder. “Or do you have a spreadsheet for that, too?”
I shook my head.
“Yes, to fucking you the way I want to?” He slid a hand between my thighs. “Or yes, to the spreadsheet?”
I stuttered as he pressed his thumb against my swollen clit and rubbed it. “The first one.”
“Good.” He suddenly bent me over my desk—pressing my chest against cold metal, and spread my legs.
I heard him unwrapping a condom behind me, heard him saying, “You’re so wet,” as he trailed a finger against my slit.
Gripping my hips, he leaned against me and pressed kisses against my spine.
One kiss. Two. Three …
I tried to focus on the warmth of his mouth, the strength of his hands, and when I was finally picking up on the pattern of his kisses, he started to slide inside of me.
Slowly at first, very slowly.
He forced himself deeper and finally filled me, and then he placed one last kiss on my back before pulling back and pounding into me so fast and hard, that I nearly lost my balance.
“Fuck, Ari.” He rasped. “You feel so good …”
“Ahhh … Ahhh …” I murmured, as he reached between my legs and strummed my clit, never stopping his reckless rhythm—thrusting in and out of me again and again.
“Carter, I….” I could feel my legs trembling, feel my pussy throbbing. “Carter, I …”
“Shhh.” He pulled out of me and flipped me over, grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his waist before sliding into me again. He looked into my eyes, pressing his fingers against my mouth as I moaned.
Unable to hold on for too much longer, I tightened my legs around his waist, and when he thrust into me again, I lost all control. I started to cry out his name as I reached my climax, but he covered his mouth with mine—muffling me as he reached his own release.
Panting and trembling, I shut my eyes—not answering any of his questions, as he peppered my forehead with kisses.
The next thing I felt was him pulling out of me and lifting me up, placing me into my bed. I heard him step out into the hallway bathroom and run water, and then I felt him wiping a warm cloth between my legs.
He placed another kiss against my forehead, whispering, “I love the way you say my name when you come.”
&n
bsp; With my heart still racing a mile a minute, I had no idea what the hell I should say to that. No idea how the hell Chinese food had turned into fucking …
I just continued to lay in bed with him beside me, with him running his fingers through my hair and softly caressing my neck.
I was certain he had nothing else to say either, because hours later, he fell asleep and I was still staring at my pale white ceiling. I tried shutting my eyes and forcing sleep, but my body wouldn’t allow it.
My lips wanted to be kissed again, my thighs wanted to be caressed, and there was a yearning ache between my thighs that I’d never felt before.
To make sure I wasn’t dreaming, or stuck in the middle of one of my recent fantasies, I looked over at Carter and made sure he was asleep. Then I trailed my hand down between my thighs—touching to see if my clit was, in fact, really swollen or if I really was—
“You’re still horny?” Carter whispered, a smile in his voice.
I ignored him and immediately moved my hand away, keeping my eyes glued to the ceiling.
“Ari?” he asked again.
I didn’t answer.
He let out a low laugh and moved on top of me, looking into my eyes. “Ari …”
“Yes?”
“Are you still wet?”
“No.”
Smirking, he slid a hand between my thighs, getting the true answer to his question. “Would you like me to help you with this?”
I shook my head and he leaned down, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. “Why not?”
I couldn’t answer. He was circling his thumb around my clit and sucking my nipple even harder.
“Should I take your silence as a yes?” He slipped a finger inside of me and I barely managed a nod.
His eyes met mine and he smiled, not asking anything else.
He took a pillow from his side of the bed and positioned it underneath my lower thighs. Pressing his lips against my forehead first, he slowly kissed his way down my body—teasingly darting his tongue against every inch of my skin.
When he made it to my stomach, he spread my legs apart and blew warmer kisses against me. Then he suddenly pulled me forward and buried his face into my pussy.
My hands immediately grabbed his head, trying to push him away, to fight it, but he paid me no attention. He sucked my clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it repeatedly.
In utter bliss, I writhed against his mouth, and he held me still, not letting me get away.
“Carter …” I murmured. “Carter …”
He didn’t answer. He released my swollen clit from his lips and slipped two fingers in and out of me, pushing them deeper each time I said his name.
“Come on my face, Ari,” he whispered, and I leaned back against the pillows—shutting my eyes and letting another orgasm rip through my body.
I kept my eyes shut, until I could feel my legs again.
When I finally did open them, I saw Carter looking at me with an “Are you okay?” expression on his face.
I nodded and a slight smile crossed his face. He got another washcloth and wiped between my legs. Then he stared at me for several minutes, not saying anything for a while.
“I’ll be right back,” he finally spoke, disappearing into my bathroom.
I heard the water turn on, heard him brushing his teeth, and I rolled over before he came back.
Fully sated, I smiled—still in utter disbelief about: 1) How good that fucking felt; and 2) That I’d just slept with my best friend.
“Goodnight, Ari,” Carter whispered into my ear, rolling me over to face him.
Or so I thought.
He rolled me on top of him and then to the other side of the bed. “You hate sleeping on the right side, remember?” he whispered, and then, with one arm wrapped around my waist, he told me to go to sleep.
It was much easier that time.
Track 11. I Knew You Were Trouble (1:55)
Carter
Shit.
Tenth Grade
Carter
Subject: Basketball tryouts.
I think I’m going to try out for the practice squad next week. If I get selected, they say I won’t be eligible to play varsity until my junior year. You think I’ll make the cut?
Sincerely,
Carter
Subject: Re: Basketball tryouts.
Yeah. From what I recall, you’re pretty good, although I think your ego is already big enough. Do you really need any more attention from the girls at our school?
You may also have to explain those two tattoos you have on your arm when you get your uniform. (Still can’t believe your mom took you, a minor, to get them.)
Wait a minute. Isn’t the reading of your dad’s will today? (It’s rude to email during stuff like that.)
Hoping you’re okay,
Arizona
Subject: Re: Re: Basketball tryouts.
I already told the coach I have tattoos. He said that if I’m any good, most people won’t care, and that I wouldn’t be the first high school basketball player to have tattoos. (I still can’t believe that she acknowledges she’s a “mom.”)
My dad’s will-reading is over. (It’s rude to leave your only son and cheat on your wife.)
I’m more than okay.
Sincerely,
Carter
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Basketball tryouts.
Where are you?
Still hoping you’re okay,
Arizona
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Basketball Tryouts
In my room.
I told you I was okay already. (Trust me.)
Sincerely,
Carter
I put my phone on silent and leaned back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Today had been one of the worst days of my life, so I was lining up things to make tomorrow better: I was going to have sex after school with my girlfriend, if she wasn’t still upset with me for not telling her why I hadn’t been to school for the past three days. (I refused to talk about my family with anyone.) I was also going to go back to my favorite sketchy tattoo parlor and get another tattoo on the inside of my arm—some type of tree, so I could add onto it for years to come. Then, I’d probably need to spend some time with Arizona at the end of the day. Being around her always made things better for some reason.
I grabbed my white earbuds from the nightstand and placed them into my ears, shutting my eyes and drifting to sleep.
Or so I thought.
Just as my favorite album began to play, one of the earbuds was ripped from my ear, and a blur of pink and purple crawled over me and took over the left side of my bed.
Arizona.
“What the hell are you doing?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Did my mom let you in?”
“You really think that?” She dangled a silver bracelet in front of my face. “I told you I made a copy of your house key in shop class months ago. Your mom is passed out on the couch.”
“Of course, she is,” I said. “Well, I need to be alone, so I can think. So, no offense, but I don’t really want your goddamn company right now, and since you had to, literally, break into my house to even see me, I’m going to ask you to leave.”
“Okay.” She stared at me, blinking. Then she put my left earbud into her ear and reclined against my pillows.
“Did you hear what I said, Arizona? Do I need to repeat it?”
“I heard you perfectly,” she said, motioning for me to lie back down next to her. “You said you were going to ask me to leave because you don’t want my company. So, when you actually ask me to leave, I will.”
Her eyes met mine and I knew she could tell that I was far from okay, that I was an emotional wreck today, and that I did really want her to stay.
Instead of fighting the facts, I lay next to her and put the other earbud in my right ear. “You being here today and seeing me like this didn’t happen.”
“It never does.”
Track 12. The Moment I Knew (4:09)
Carter
I stood in Arizona’s kitchen the morning after we’d had sex, brewing a fresh cup of coffee. Two of her roommates, Jenny and Heather, were standing across from me—waiting for the timer to sound.
“You know you can technically get coffee as it’s brewing, right?” I asked, noticing that they were staring at my chest.
“I’m aware.” Jenny blushed. “Just waiting like you are.”
“I actually did not know that.” Heather stepped forward and held her mug under the coffee machine. “Learn something new every day. Just in case I don’t see her today, will you tell Arizona to pick up some dish soap when she wakes up? It’s her turn.”
“I will.” I nodded.
The timer went off and Jenny stepped forward, deliberately rubbing her mug against my chest before holding it under the coffee machine. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” She laughed.
“Anyway,” Heather said, ignoring Jenny. “In addition to the dish soap, could you also tell her to get us some more coffee? It’s her turn for that, too.”
“Noted.” I noticed Jenny was still touching me. “Don’t you need to get to work?”
She blushed again and stepped back. “Whenever you want me to leave my boyfriend for you, just say the word. Say the word.”
“I won’t.” I laughed.
“You will.” She sipped her coffee and headed toward the door, laughing back. “I’ll be awaiting that phone call!”
I waited for them to leave, made sure the car had revved up and pulled out of the driveway before I sat down.
My mind immediately attempted to process what the hell had happened last night in a series of frames: Movie. Laughter. Uninterrupted Kiss. Sex. Sex with Arizona. Sex again with Arizona. Sex with my best friend for as long as I could fucking remember, Arizona.
“Morning.” She walked into the kitchen wearing a plush white robe, avoiding my eyes.
“Morning.”
“Did you or one of my roommates make the coffee?”
“I did.”