Just Friends (Blue Beech)

by Charity Ferrell

  “Holy crap,” she releases in a loud hiss while writhing underneath me. “More. Please.”

  With no warning, I give her what she’s demanding and thrust two fingers inside her warmth. Her pussy is soaked, which makes it easier to glide my fingers in and out of her tightness because, Lord … she’s so fucking tight that I can barely fit the two in. Satisfaction hits me of how turned on she is.

  Because of me.

  Her pussy is this wet in response to how much she wants me.

  Fuck, if this isn’t about to make me come already.

  I tilt my head and gently suck on her swollen clit. Her legs rise at the knees to each side of me, and her body quivers as I brush my tongue into her slit, licking it alongside my fingers. Her back arches, a desperate cry escaping her when I withdraw my fingers. Her cries change from desperate to strained when I replace them with my tongue, pushing it deep inside her.

  “Jesus,” she bursts out, bucking against my face. “Don’t stop.”

  Curses fly out of my mouth as I lick and suck her pussy, my thumb climbing to her clit and massaging it in gentle circles.

  “More,” she urges.

  I eat her pussy harder, and her hand falls to my hair when I add my fingers to the mix again. It fucking hurts, the way she’s clutching at the roots, but I’ll handle it. I’ll deal with anything to give her the best orgasm of her life.

  “Please,” she begs breathlessly. “Quit holding back and have sex with me already.”

  It kills me, but I ignore her pleas.

  Her moans grow louder, and the hard breaths knocking from her lungs tell me she’s close to reaching her brink.

  I briefly pull away to peek up at her before going back to work. “Come on my tongue, baby.”

  As if my words set her off, her back flies off the bed, and she holds my head in place. Her legs tremble as she lets herself go, and I deliver a simple kiss on her clit before lifting my head.

  “Holy wow,” she gasps, catching her breath. “Now, have sex with me.”

  I jerk back, stupidly shocked at her words momentarily. She was begging me to fuck her only minutes ago.

  I chuckle, shaking my head, and suck on the fingers that were inside her before responding, “Not happening tonight. I got you off. Don’t be selfish.”

  “You’re the one being selfish,” she argues with a hint of a frown as she points her chin toward my hard-as-a-rock cock pressed against her thigh. “If anything, you need this more than I do.”

  My knees nearly buckle when she wraps her fist around my dick, and I can’t stop myself from jerking forward.

  “I’m not fucking you with a house full of people,” I grit out, throwing my head back as she starts stroking me.

  “I’ll be quiet,” she whispers. “You can cover my mouth with the same hand that was in my vagina.”

  Holy hell.

  Where did this Carolina come from?

  As much as I crave to push her down and fuck her hard, we’re not ready for that step.

  My hand swoops down, wrapping around her wrist to stop her. “It’s okay. This was for you.”

  “Trust me,” she says around a snort, stroking me faster. “This will most definitely be for me, too.”

  My cock twitches, begging me to give her the go-ahead, and my mouth drops open as I move closer to offer better access. She seizes that opportunity to rise to her knees and shove me onto my back. I don’t have time to argue before she wraps her warm lips around my hard dick and sucks on the tip, and I nearly bust when she takes my entire length into her mouth. It’s my turn to thrust my hips up, feeding my cock to her as she draws it in and out of her mouth, swirling her tongue around my tip.

  It doesn’t take long before a surge of pleasure zips through me, and my balls tighten.

  “I’m about to come,” I warn in case she isn’t a swallower.

  She only sucks harder as if she can’t wait to taste me.

  My hips jerk forward, every nerve in my cock awakened as I explode in her mouth.

  “Holy fuck,” I seethe, still coming down from the high of the best damn blow job ever. “That was amazing.”

  She sits back, her butt hitting the back of her legs, and affection spills over her features. “When can we do it again?”

  My lips tilt up in a grin, and I give her a raspy laugh.

  Maybe this is what we were destined to be.

  Best friends.

  Temporary lovers.

  Then, I’ll lose her.

  Our lives will never be the same.

  We’re risking it all for sex.

  For the first time ever, I’m awake before Carolina.

  The morning sun shines through my bedroom blinds, offering me the view of her tucked comfortably at my side. I’m on my back, and she’s on her stomach. One of her legs is slung over my hips, and her arm is draped across my bare chest.

  We’ve shared a bed plenty of times, but it’s different this morning.

  We gave each other oral last night.

  One of my old high school T-shirts is bunched up at her waist, granting me a peek of her white boy shorts and the bottom cheeks of her plump ass. She grabbed a pair last night from the drawer in my dresser she assigned to herself, which is now overflowing with panties and bralettes.

  She stirs, showing off more of her ass, and her body shifts more on top of me. My dick hardens as I recall what took place in this bed—her shoving me onto my back and sucking my cock as if her life depended on it. The taste of her is on my tongue.

  There’s no going back from this.

  We weren’t drunk.

  There’s no blaming it on the alcohol or pretending it didn’t happen.

  All morning, I’ve stressed over what this means for our relationship.

  I need to know where Carolina’s head is.

  After her mind-blowing blow job, I kissed her and jumped out of bed. Otherwise, I would’ve ended up fucking her. She joined me in getting dressed, stealing another one of my tees, and swapped her contacts for glasses.

  Josh’s guests usually spend the night, and my door was locked, but I wasn’t risking anyone seeing her naked.

  There’s no containing my cheesy smile when she wakes up, and her eyes soften when they see me.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” I chime.

  “Morning,” she says sleepily, not alarmed at our position.

  “How’d you sleep?”

  “Wonderful actually.” She grins. “It’s been a while since I slept over.”

  “A while as in a few days ago at the hotel.”

  “Since I’ve slept over, not shared a bed with you.”

  “I guess it missed you.”

  She repositions herself and props her chin on my chest, staring up at me. “Want to talk about the elephant in the room?”

  “Here, I considered you the shy one.”

  “I am … except around you.” She pokes me in the chest. “It’s your fault, making me hang out with you all the time.”

  “Hey, this isn’t a one-way street. Somehow, you know every detail of my life, you force me to watch shows about desperate housewives banging their lawn boys, and you insisted you teach me how to bake.”

  She laughs. “I’m an evil woman.”

  “Damn straight you are.”

  Thank fuck we’re comfortable. Normally, I don’t do sleepovers in fear of suffering through the morning after. If I ever do stay over, I leave early without breakfast or conversation.

  “What will we be walking into when we leave the room?” she asks.

  “Huh?”

  “Josh and his friends were sure having fun last night.”

  “More fun than us?”

  A blush rides up her forehead. “Eh, doubt that.”

  I wrap a strand of her hair around my finger. “Like me, Josh is picky about our houseguests. One guy is his cousin, the other is a girl he’s steadily dating, and then her friend.”

  “Josh has been steadily dating someone?”

  “Shocking,
huh? They’ve been off and on for a minute and are on right now. She and her friend are cool.”

  A silence passes as she gawks at me. “Do you … ever hang out with her friend?”

  “No.” I tuck the strand of hair I’ve been playing with behind her ear. “I haven’t slept with her.”

  “How’d you know that’s what I was thinking?”

  “I always know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

  She slaps my chest. “I hate you.”

  “You love me.” I roll us over, settling her on her back and staring down at her. “Is this real life right now?” My gaze travels down her body.

  She pinches me. “You feel that?”

  I flinch. “Uh … yeah?”

  “Then, yes, it’s real life.” She briefly looks away before she frowns, her eyes meeting mine. “Why wouldn’t you have sex with me? Was last night a one-time thing?” She smacks her forehead. “I’m so confused.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “You wouldn’t have sex with me last night, though. Why? You don’t give other girls a hard time about it.”

  “You’re not any other girl, Carolina.”

  “What are we then? Friends with benefits?”

  “We’re way beyond friends with benefits. I can nine thousand percent confirm that.”

  “Super-best friends with oral benefits?”

  “Wrong again.”

  “Is it because you think I suck at sex?”

  “What? Why would you think that’d crossed my mind? As a matter of fact, you’re pretty damn hot in bed.”

  “I was boring when we had sex in high school.”

  “You mean, when you were a virgin?” I stroke her jaw with my free hand. “I didn’t expect you to be a pro at sex or for it not to be awkward. We were teenagers.”

  “Still, no doubt it sucked for you.”

  I scoff. “Did you forget I came? I was worried it’d sucked for you.”

  “Yes, it was painful, but you were gentle with me.”

  I’ll always be gentle with you.

  We’re interrupted by her stomach grumbling.

  “Breakfast?” I ask, pulling away from her.

  “I’m starving.”

  “Do you work today?”

  She shakes her head. “I have the spaghetti dinner fundraiser to raise money for the after-school program at church.” She motions back and forth between us. “We have the fundraiser dinner. I told you to mark it in your calendar.”

  I forgot.

  “I wait for your reminders,” I grumble.

  “This is also a reminder that you’re helping me make the cookies.”

  I groan. “How many again?”

  “Only two hundred. Lauren and her mom are making the other two hundred, and Shirley is making the pies.”

  “Jesus. We haven’t done that many in a few years.”

  I nod. “Yep, so get ready.”

  One of Carolina’s hobbies is hosting fundraisers. She’s done countless silent auctions and dinners for people, organizations, or the church’s needs. I love how much she loves helping others. I tag along, helping and allowing her to boss me around.

  Her stomach growls again, and I hop off my bed.

  “Let’s get food in your belly.”

  17

  Carolina

  “Good morning, lovebirds,” Josh bursts out when we walk into the kitchen.

  “Don’t start,” Rex warns.

  Josh holds up his hands. “Hey, I’m happy for you! I’ve waited a long time for this moment. I’m a proud mama bear here.”

  “Waited for what moment?” I ask, diverting my attention into the kitchen.

  He makes a sweeping gesture to Rex and me. “You two to bang.”

  Rex shoves his shoulder when he passes him. “We didn’t bang.”

  Josh scoffs. “All right. I’ve waited a long time for you to hook up.”

  “Who says we hooked up?” Rex fires back.

  “Your guilty-ass faces when I busted you in the living room.” Josh raises his brows.

  “We were playing video games,” I explain, looking as guilty as he said we did last night.

  What I’m wearing doesn’t help our argument—Rex’s tee, a pair of his sweats—and my hair resembles a rat’s nest.

  Josh opens his mouth to reply, but everyone’s attention shoots to the tall blonde strolling into the kitchen, wearing a shirt that hits her knees.

  She stands on her tiptoes and snags a mug from the cabinet before glancing at me, wearing an amused smile on her face. “You must be Carolina.”

  “Yes?” I answer in confusion.

  She points at Rex. “He’s in love with you.”

  “Told you!” Josh shouts.

  “Every convo we’ve had, he’s mentioned you.” She tips her mug my way. “We order pizza; he tells us your favorite is chicken and pepperoni. We watch a show; he informs us how many episodes he’s seen with you. Girl, I know enough about you that we could be best friends.” Her smile grows. “I’m Angelica.”

  I offer a friendly wave. “I’m Carolina … although it seems you already know that.”

  The fridge shuts, and Josh holds up a carton of eggs.

  “Is the happy couple hungry this morning?” he says. “I’m making French toast!”

  “I’ll never turn down French toast,” I reply.

  Josh starts pulling out ingredients while Angelica grabs a pan. Rex squeezes between them in the narrow space, snatches two mugs, and makes our coffee—adding the perfect amount of sugar and almond milk.

  “I’m waiting for Rex to tell me that French toast is your favorite,” Angelica jokes.

  “Pancakes are her favorite,” Rex inputs. “Extra syrup. Add bananas if possible.”

  He sets down a mug in front of me and winks, and my heart melts.

  “I have an excellent idea,” Rex says when we finish unloading groceries in my sister’s kitchen. “You bake. I taste-test.” He tips his head toward Tricia’s kitchen table with a boyish smile beaming on his full lips. “I’ll sit here, watch the master do her work, and then make sure they’re scrumptious when finished.”

  I deposit the bags into the recycling bin. “Nice try, but no. You’re the assistant baker today.” I tug two aprons from the drawer and toss him a pink one printed with yellow rubber duckies.

  “Can’t blame a man for trying.” He ties the apron around him with amusement. “I like this look.”

  After devouring Josh’s French toast and evading questions from him and Angelica, we cleaned up and went to the grocery store for the cookie ingredients. Rex offered his kitchen, but room is limited there. Tricia’s has more counter space and top-of-the-line appliances. We’ll also be left alone since she and the family went away for the weekend.

  It’s been a while since I’ve baked this large of a batch. I’m a bit rusty and grateful Rex is helping.

  “I will let you lick the bowl in reward for your help,” I offer, strolling around the kitchen while gathering all the needed supplies.

  He gives me a satisfied smile. “I love when you let me lick things.”

  The measuring cup slips out of my hand, crashing onto the floor, and I bend down to retrieve it. Normally, I’d roll my eyes and throw a dish towel at him—something along those lines—but his words hit a different spot. Not annoyance. Desire. He’s right. I do love it when he licks things, but I’m too shy to tell him that.

  When I rise, I replace the cup in my hand with an oven mitt and slap him on the side of the head, wishing desire weren’t igniting through me. I’m supposed to be making cookies for my church fundraiser, and all I want to do is fall back onto my knees and taste-test him.

  He exaggeratedly flinches with a satisfied smile on his face at flustering me.

  “All right, what flavors are we baking up today, boss woman?” He scrubs his hands together.

  I swoop my hand toward the ingredients. “Chocolate chip.”

  He snatches the bag of chocolate chips. �
�I call those.”

  “Oatmeal raisin.”

  He gags. “You can’t do oatmeal raisin.”

  “What? Why?”

  “People who make oatmeal raisin cookies deserve to be in prison.” He stands taller. “Here us chocolate chip lovers are, minding our business and snagging a cookie, only to bite into it and discover it has wrinkled-ass grapes inside.” He flicks the box of raisins along the island with his fingers. “And people wonder why I have trust issues.”

  “You have trust issues because you get too much in your head.” I drag the raisins back and hold them up. “You’re getting raisins. We need variety.”

  He scans the ingredients. “What are our other options? Peanut butter? Snickerdoodles?”

  “None. Everyone has confirmed what they’re bringing. I’m responsible for chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin.”

  “All right, but don’t let anyone think I helped you with that disgrace of a cookie. I’m making the chocolate chip, and I will give you the honors of eating the nasty raisin dough.”

  “You’re too overdramatic.”

  “I take my cookies very seriously, Lina. You know this.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I mutter.

  “I’ll be on sugar duty.” He snags the sugar jar.

  I pluck it out of his hand. “I will be on sugar duty.” I set it on the other side of me on the counter, away from him, and waggle my finger in the air. “Remember last time I let you be on sugar duty?”

  “Yes, they were heavenly.”

  “No, they weren’t.”

  His palm goes to his heart. “You sure know how to hurt a man’s baking ego.”

  “You put way too much sugar in them. They tasted horrible.” I hand him the carton of eggs. “You’re on batter-mixing duty.”

  “Well, if that isn’t damn boring,” he grumbles, opening the carton.

  Four hours later, the house smells like a bakery, and the cookies are done.

  I rub my hands together before turning around and washing them. “I need to shower and get ready.”

  Rex nods, and I swallow back my laughter at the flour handprint on his face from me tapping his cheek earlier. He tried to wipe it away with the back of his arm, and I was such a good friend and held back from telling him he missed it.