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Just Friends (Blue Beech)

Page 17

by Charity Ferrell


  “You have any leftover cookies?” He raises his leg to nudge a closed pizza box on the table with his foot. “I’ll share pizza.”

  “They’re in the car,” Carolina answers, thrusting a thumb toward the door. “You can go grab them if you want.”

  I followed Carolina home after we left the church to drop off her car. She made a pit stop into the loft and packed an overnight bag, and I drove us to my place.

  Josh stands. “Be right back. You two make yourself comfortable, and everyone pick a movie.” He snaps his fingers and does a circling motion around the three of us. “Make it a good one, so I don’t pass out.”

  Angelica scoots over to give us enough room on the couch, and I collapse onto the other end. Carolina falls down next to me, her body halfway on top of mine.

  The remote is in Angelica’s hand as she glances over at us with a raised brow. “What kind of movies do you like?”

  “I have a feeling I’ll be outvoted, and we’re bound to watch something romantic,” I comment.

  Carolina rolls her eyes while patting my thigh. “Honey, don’t act like you didn’t get emotional during A Walk to Remember.”

  “Yes, because the girl reminded me of you!” I argue, throwing my right arm up in frustration before counting my reasoning with my fingers. “Preacher’s daughter. Ugly-ass sweaters. The guy is the complete opposite of her. At the end, she dies.” My attention briefly flicks to Angelica. “Spoiler alert.”

  A flash of understanding flashes in Carolina’s eyes. “Oh shoot, I never thought about that.”

  “That entire week, I stressed, waiting for you to tell me you had a terminal illness and that the movie was a silent warning. Scared the shit out of me.”

  Angelica points at me with the remote. “You wait until you watch The Notebook.”

  “Already seen it,” I reply.

  “The Fault in Our Stars?”

  I nod.

  “The Vow?”

  I nod again.

  “P.S. I Love You?”

  Another nod.

  Angelica looks back at Josh when he walks in. “You need to step your movie game up, babe. Rex has watched nearly every movie that I’ve cried over!”

  Josh plops next to her with the container of cookies in his hand and whistles through his teeth. “Dude, quit making me look bad, or I’m not sharing the pizza or cookies.”

  “Don’t get mad at me for being smart,” I fire back.

  He snatches a cookie and takes a large bite before gagging. “Jesus! What are these?”

  “Oatmeal raisin,” Carolina replies around a laugh.

  He sticks out his tongue, gagging again, and tosses the cookie back into the container as if it were toxic. “Why would you do that to a man? I thought they were chocolate chip.”

  The three of us crack up in laughter.

  “Told you,” I say to Carolina. “Oatmeal cookies are blasphemous.”

  “And banned from our apartment,” Josh adds.

  “What about Save the Last Dance?” Angelica asks, flipping through the options.

  “I love that movie.” Carolina peeks up at me. “You haven’t seen that one.”

  Angelica hits play.

  The movie is actually pretty damn good.

  Josh and Angelica are knocked out when the movie credits flash across the screen.

  I’m spent as my eyes dart over to Carolina snuggled in my arms. “Another movie or bed?”

  She yawns loudly, standing and stretching, and I do the same.

  “Bed. Definitely bed.” Her attention drifts to the snoring couple. “Should we wake them?”

  “Would you want to be woken up?”

  “Probably.” She nods. “That couch isn’t very comfortable.”

  Josh’s eyes pop open when I nudge his foot with mine.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. It’s bedtime.”

  He shakes Angelica awake, and they grumble a quick, “Good night,” before sluggishly poking along down the hall. Carolina and I turn off the lights, moving to my bedroom in slow motion.

  As soon as I close the bedroom door, Carolina rummages through my drawers, pulling out her favorite tee of mine. With her back to me and with no hesitation, she whips her dress over her head, causing my heart to nearly jolt out of my chest. Only seconds pass before she unsnaps her bra and slides the tee over her head. The shirt hits the top of her knees, and her nipples are poking through the thin fabric when she turns around and looks at me.

  My mouth waters at the sight.

  I gulp when the memory of us in the hotel room courses through my mind—of how similar the situation was and how I turned her down. I fight with myself on how to handle this. Sure, we hooked up last night, but we didn’t take that final step.

  No doubt that will happen if I touch her tonight.

  She smiles back at me while walking to the bathroom, her hand brushing against my stomach when she passes me. I follow her, and Carolina snags the toothbrush I bought for the nights she stays over. My hand is nearly shaking as I brush mine. Her smile grows the second time she slips past me, and my knees nearly buckle when she hops into my bed and yanks the blanket up her body, stopping only inches underneath her neck.

  My cock is obnoxiously hard, and there’s no hiding it. The room is dead silent while I change into sweats, and the sheets are cold as I settle on my knees on the edge of the bed. She scoots over, giving me room, and I leave the bedside lamp on when I join her. My sheets still smell like her—a vanilla mixed with cherry scent.

  She wastes no time in getting comfortable under my arm, resting on her hip, with her leg slung over mine.

  Carolina is halfway straddling me, and I’m not freaking the fuck out.

  It feels right.

  Natural.

  Where she belongs.

  “Thank you again for everything,” she says, rubbing her foot up and down my leg.

  My arm swings around her waist. “Always.”

  I release a hmph when she pushes herself up to straddle me.

  “I think you deserve a reward for all your hard work.”

  My hands settle on the tops of her thighs as I fight to control my breathing and not shift my hips. She’s only wearing panties underneath that shirt, and her pussy covered with only panties would feel amazing against my cock.

  “You normally reward me with cookies.”

  Yes. I’m suggesting she reward me with cookies rather than straddle me.

  Fucking idiot.

  She smirks, her pink lips full. “Would you rather have cookies?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Her smile wavers, confliction on her face as her gaze lowers to me, and my stomach twists at the sudden disappointment.

  My hand leaves her thigh when I reach forward, pushing away a loose strand of hair away from her face. “Hey. What’s up?”

  She hesitates.

  I slide my hand up and down her thigh in reassurance. “Come on, tell me.”

  Her face tightens, and she bites into her cheek. “I suck at this whole seduction thing.”

  A heaviness falls over me, and my voice is tender. “Trust me, babe, you don’t suck at this.”

  She’s not convinced. “You look like you’d rather me pluck your eyeballs out than be on top of you.”

  I tighten my grip on her to stop her from moving off me.

  Here, I thought I was doing us a favor by holding back, and she thinks it’s because I don’t want her. As scared as I was that us being together would push her away, my constant rejection will do just as much damage, if not more.

  I tilt my hips up, and she gasps when my erection presses against her core. “There’s never been a question of if you turn me on. It’s always been if this is a good idea.”

  Her eyes widen, understanding flickering on her face. “So, I do turn you on.” The grin she was sporting minutes ago resurfaces.

  The air grows thick, and I curl forward to cup the back of her head with my palm. Not a word leaves my mouth until our eyes are locked—
hers with traces of every emotion.

  Fear. Excitement. Love. Hurt.

  We’re so close that I feel her chest heaving underneath my shirt.

  “I want this as much as you do, babe,” I say, inches from her lips, not breaking our eye contact. “Hell, more than you do.”

  That gorgeous smile of hers grows larger than I’ve ever seen in all the years I’ve known her. “If I say something, do you promise not to throw me off your lap?”

  Not going in the direction I thought this was going.

  I arch a brow, my hands digging into her hair. “Sure?”

  “I want you to take this step with me, Rex.”

  “Step?”

  She blows out a long breath and lifts one of her hands, smoothing her palm over my face before settling it on my cheek. My mouth goes dry. Affection simmers in her eyes as we focus on nothing but each other, in our own little confused world.

  Her words come out slow. Her tone soft. “Rex, you’re capable of a relationship, and as someone who believes in you, who trusts you, I’m willing to put my heart on the line to prove it.”

  My hand covers hers resting on my cheek. “Carolina—”

  She shoves my hand away to press a finger against my lips. “I’m not finished.” Her finger leaves my lips and brushes my chin before she lowers her hand to my chest, tapping the spot over my heart. “This heart is capable of being a good friend, a good boyfriend, a good lover—”

  “Is that what you want?” I cut in, my head spinning. “For me to be your boyfriend?” Just the thought sends a jolt of excitement through me.

  Us together.

  Boyfriend and girlfriend.

  Lovers.

  She nods. “More than anything.” The serious look on her face morphs into a smirk. Her next words come out in a song, one sounding like a cheesy-ass car commercial, and she moves her shoulders from side to side in a dancing motion. “You know you want to.”

  She further proves her point by wiggling on top of me, rolling this romantic moment into a hungrier one filled with need for her.

  “Let’s do it then.”

  Her face brightens. “Really?”

  My answer comes in the form of kissing her with everything I have.

  We’ve lit the fuse, and I pray it doesn’t burn everything we’ve built.

  19

  Carolina

  My heart thuds against my chest.

  Rex’s tongue slides into my mouth, giving me the taste of toothpaste.

  I grind against him in his lap while we make out, feeling his erection grow harder underneath me with every movement. My skin tingles at his excitement for me … for us.

  “I want you,” I whisper into his mouth.

  He draws away, locking my eyes with his, and understanding dawns on his face.

  This is it.

  What we’ve been beating around our entire friendship.

  Nervousness rocks through me as I grab the waistband of his sweats. I whip a leg over his, no longer straddling him, and am on my knees when I tug at his pants. I don’t make much progress before his hand wraps around my wrist, his grip firm. Just as I’m about to argue, he flips me on my back and hovers over me.

  “Swear to me, Carolina,” he whispers. “Swear to me, this won’t change us.”

  I shake my head, the pillow soft under my head. “It won’t change anything. I swear.”

  All the reluctance he’s been carrying splits into hunger, and his voice is thick as he speaks, “You want to fuck me?”

  What does he think I’ve been trying to do for the past week?

  Play Yahtzee?

  He leans down to whisper in my ear, “Do you remember the first time we had sex?”

  His scruff rubs against my cheek, and I shiver when he pulls away.

  I will until the day I die.

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “God, I wanted to do so much more, starting with this.”

  Heat creeps up my spine when he pushes up my shirt, baring me to him, and palms my breast while lowering his body over mine.

  “I love you in my shirts,” he bites out, capturing my nipple in his fingers and lightly pinching it. “I wanted to suck on these.” With the last word, he draws a nipple between his lips and sucks hard.

  My hips tilt forward when he slides his tongue up and down my entire breast.

  “My mouth watered to taste your pussy … to have it on my tongue, so I could taste you all night.”

  Unlike our first time, I stare down at him, not wanting to miss a second of what is happening, when he slides my panties down my legs. Our eyes are locked as he carefully spreads my legs. Then, my lips between my legs part, and he sticks his tongue inside me.

  Holy mother-freaking crap!

  “I wanted to set you on fire while I played with your pussy. Wishing I could suck on your clit.”

  He does just that, wrapping his lips around my most sensitive spot and slowly sucking it, circling his lips around it in the process.

  Rex is a dirty talker during sex.

  I love it.

  Just as I’m wrapping my mind around his tongue being between my legs, he grips my thighs, pulling my butt off the bed, and drags me into his mouth, devouring me.

  I’m dizzy.

  I’m trying to keep up and watch, but when he loses his hold on a thigh and curves a single finger inside me, all eye contact is over.

  I’m overtaken by tingles hitting every inch of my body, and my moans take over the room.

  “There’s that G-spot,” he says with a chuckle.

  I don’t have to see him to know he’s sporting a smirk.

  With the few guys I’ve done this with, it maybe lasted a good ten minutes and resulted in no orgasm, but not with Rex … no. He’s passionately kissing me between my legs, fingering me, and he rides me through one orgasm … then another. At this point, I’m doubting if he’s going to have sex with me or just keep getting me off, using his tongue to appease me.

  I’m not complaining, but I want more.

  I want him inside me.

  All of him.

  I sigh at the loss of his mouth, and he stares up at me.

  “You were so wet and tight when I got you ready for my cock,” he groans out at the memory.

  I writhe underneath him. “I remem—” I stop myself from finishing. “Actually, I don’t. Please remind me.”

  He smirks, climbing over my body, and sweat lines his forehead when his mouth returns to mine. “Now, Carolina, a man will have a complex if you don’t remember how good he filled you with his dick.”

  I taste myself when he briefly plunges his tongue between my lips before I lose him again.

  He rubs a thumb over my bottom lip—that seems to be his thing. “You want to fuck me, Carolina?”

  I nod repeatedly. “Yes … please … now.” My voice is so strained; I hardly recognize it.

  A yelp leaves me when he rolls us over—him on his back and me on top again, his hands firmly gripping my hips.

  “Then, fuck me,” he grounds out, tilting his head toward the nightstand. “Condom, top drawer.”

  I wriggle against him a few times, hearing him release a hiss, and then stretch along the bed to the nightstand. There’s a box of condoms inside the drawer. It’s nearly full, XL—not surprising since I’ve seen his cock a few times now. It was a struggle to take him all the way in my mouth last night.

  I hesitate, taking in how he’s having me do all the work, and build up the courage to appear as confident as I can.

  He hisses as I drag his pants down, his cock springing free, and I fumble with ripping open the condom wrapper. It’s the first time a guy has asked me to do the honors.

  His muscles tense when I stroke him once before rolling the condom onto his thick cock.

  “Is that good?” Stupidity hits me at my question, but it’s important.

  Homegirl is not getting preggers over here.

  My parents would really shit.

  I scrub a hand over my forehea
d.

  Why am I thinking about my parents right before having premarital sex?

  “Is everything okay?” Rex asks, rising on his elbows at the change in my mood.

  I nod. “Mmhmm. More than okay.”

  “Take off your shirt, so I can see all of you.”

  I whip it off and throw it across the room. Our moans fill the room when I align myself with his cock and slowly ease my way down, as he fills every inch of me. It’s been a while since I’ve had sex, so there’s a slight pain, and I still for a moment.

  “Holy fuck,” he hisses, biting hard into his lower lip. “You’re tight.”

  I only nod while adjusting to his size.

  “You good?” Rex asks.

  I’m grateful he’s not rushing this, that he’s giving me time.

  I nod again. “I’m perfect.”

  His hand rises, rubbing circles over my clit, making me wetter.

  Turning me on even more.

  Well ... that’s a way to get my mind off the twinge of pain.

  “This will be better than the last time, I promise.” I buck forward as he slows his movements on my clit.

  “Every time is perfect with you, babe.” His hand locks around my hip before his jerk forward.

  A burst of pleasure barrels through me, my ache of pain turning into an ache of needing more of him, and I slowly grind against him.

  He stays still, allowing me to take charge.

  At the rotation of my hips, his rise, matching my tempo.

  It doesn’t take us long to find the perfect rhythm.

  Sex with Rex is amazing.

  Perfection.

  Better than what I imagined.

  I fall forward, unable to support my weight, and rest my hand onto his chest, knowing I’m close to my brink.

  That slow tempo speeds up until we’re going wild, all the years of sexual tension bleeding through us. My hand moves from his chest to the headboard as he drills his hips into me, his hand on my waist tighter to keep me from flying off him, and I collapse against him, moaning out my release, not caring who hears.

  He thrusts violently underneath me, losing every ounce of gentle control he’s ever had for me, and I gasp when he rolls us over again. As soon as I fall to my stomach, he props my hips up, his hand sliding down my back, and I level myself on my elbows, peeking back at him.

 

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