by Lexie Ray
“For the sake of keeping the peace, then, maybe no Nick,” Faith agreed. “That’s kind of crappy of him. You’d think that, as your friend, he’d want you to be happy no matter who you were with.”
“I guess he just wanted it to be him and nobody else,” I sighed. “You’re right. It is crappy. Crappy and sad.”
“Well, I’ll start making the calls and getting the groceries,” Faith said. “I’ve got to get back to work, now. I took an ultra late lunch break, trying to make sure you got at least a little bit of sleep.”
“You’re sweet,” I laughed. “I’ll let Greg know. He’s going to be so excited to meet everyone. I just know it. You guys are going to love him.”
My phone buzzed and I checked the display. My stomach did a little somersault. It was Greg.
“What kind of meat does Greg prefer?” Faith was asking.
“I’ll ask him right now,” I said quickly. “He’s calling me. I’ll text you later today. I have to go.”
“Go get him,” she laughed, and I switched the calls.
“Hello,” I said breathlessly.
“Open your door,” Greg said.
I flung the covers off of me and leapt out of bed. It didn’t matter that I was just sleeping in an oversized T-shirt and a pair of ratty gym shorts. The man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with had just told me to do something, and it made me happy to make him happy.
I opened the door without so much as looking through the peephole, and was rewarded with the surprise of Prince Charming standing right there, holding a bouquet of daisies and a box of donuts. If possible, he was even more handsome right now than he had been the night before. He was wearing khakis that fit his form perfectly and a crisp white button down shirt.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, grinning, his voice as melodic as ever. “Did you awake feeling refreshed?”
I ended the call and nearly made him drop everything by throwing myself into his arms.
“Easy!” he chuckled. “You don’t want to ruin breakfast, do you?”
“Of course not,” I said, peppering his lips with kisses. “It’s the most important meal of the day.”
I led him to the kitchen, shoving some pieces of mail aside on the table before taking the box of donuts from him and setting them down.
“Those are fresh,” he told me, lifting the lid and taking out one fragrant treat. “Still warm.”
“Where did you find fresh donuts at 1 in the afternoon?” I asked, then had to stop talking as he put the soft donut in my mouth. He was right — it was still warm, and delicious, and gooey, and utterly sinful. Nothing in the world should be this good. I’d never had a more scrumptious donut, and I wondered whether it was because Greg really had found a gym of a donut shop in Miami, or if it was just because I was so in love with the man who’d brought this box full of goodness.
“You have just a little icing, right here,” he said, rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip. He popped the digit in his mouth, sucking it thoughtfully. “Those are good, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” I said, finally swallowing the bite I’d savored and fishing another style of treat from the box. “Try it.”
I fed him as he’d done to me, smiling as he nibbled at the ends of my fingers. Greg made a sound in his throat, chewing the treat, and I couldn’t help myself any longer. I stood on my toes and kissed him, not caring that he had a mouth full of donut. The kiss was sugar sweet, better than any dessert item masquerading as breakfast, and I could detect a trace of jelly filling. There couldn’t be a better way to start a day than this right here.
“Did you go to sleep and wake up?” he asked, smiling at me and hugging me around my waist.
“Obviously,” I said, laughing.
“Then it’s officially tomorrow, isn’t it?”
I smiled slowly, my happiness stretching across my face. “Yes. It’s officially tomorrow.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, to ask permission, or something, but I silenced him with my own mouth. I didn’t want anything to stand in the way between us. I wanted our swiftly developing relationship to grow as naturally as possible, as naturally as falling in love with someone you were meeting for the first time. I didn’t want to complicate it with wishes and dreams and labels and permission forms and drama. I just wanted to exist with this man, love him, and be with him, body and soul.
But right now, especially body.
The donuts forgotten on the table, the daisies languishing in the sink, I took Greg’s hands, and, still kissing him, walked backward toward my bedroom.
We collapsed on my bed, Greg on top of me, and I continued to guide his hands, giving him a tour of my body. We hadn’t made it very far past first base yesterday, but now we were rounding second and then…oh, third. His hands had found the edge of my shorts of their own accord and were rolling them down, paying me very close attention as I thrust upward at him, impatient for his touch, ready for every barrier between us to be completely removed.
I helped rip his clothes off of him, at least one button from his nice shirt skittering across the floor almost as an afterthought, and then I was running my hands over his gloriously sculpted body. For a man with an office job that required just a bit of travel, he really did know how to take care of himself.
“Like what you see, darling?” he asked. “The feeling’s mutual.”
We were finally naked, rubbing the entire lengths of our bodies against each other, and I practically vibrated with desire. I had never wanted anything more than I wanted this in my life. It was hard not to just grab him, flip him over, and straddle him, taking what I wanted. Greg’s light caresses, his knowing kisses, the way he seemed to understand just what I needed — that was all too sweet to put a halt to just because I wanted a little instant gratification. We had agreed to try to take this slow. If that included the first time we made love, then I was willing to give it a try.
We fit together like we’d been made for each other, and once he was inside me, I forgot my promise to myself to take it slow. I needed it fast. I needed it hard. I needed it now.
Sensing again what I was ready for, Greg seemed to take pity on me and pumped his hips quickly, brutally, deliciously. I wrapped my legs around his waist and squeezed, thrusting against him in counterpoint. The angle was incredible, the drive was delectable, and before I knew what was happening, I was coming, the orgasm crashing down on me, burying me beneath it. I screamed Greg’s name, clawed at his back, made fifty kinds of fool out of myself and didn’t care.
It was all worth it to see the moment Greg’s face lost its good-natured composure — the moment he let himself go and came in response to me, because of me. He gave a low, long groan, kissing me as he rode it out, and I realized I’d never felt closer to him than this moment, with his length buried to its hilt inside of me. We were one, now.
He groaned again as he withdrew, flopping down on the bed beside me, making me bounce a little and giggle.
“I want you to meet my friends,” I said, still panting from the incredible release, turning to face Greg, aware that I was sweaty and exhausted and utterly sated.
“I thought you were going to say your parents,” he said, clutching his heart in mock horror.
“I don’t really stay in touch with my parents,” I said. “They don’t live here.”
“That’s sad,” he said, tracing his finger down my chest, over the swell of my breast, circling the tender flesh of my nipple until it stood in hard relief. I shuddered.
“My friends, though, do,” I said. “They’re the family I chose for myself. I want you to meet them.”
“I’d love to meet whoever is important to you,” he said, darting over to my other breast, giving that nipple the exact same treatment. I mewled this time, unable to stop myself.
“I’m serious, Greg,” I said, aware that I wouldn’t have a chance to so much as catch my breath from our first coupling before our apparent next one. “I really want this.”
“I’m serious, too,” he said, dragging his hand down between my legs, gently rubbing me there. “You’re still so wet.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “So you’ll meet my friends? We’re planning a barbecue for this weekend. You’ll meet them all in one fell swoop.”
“Is your friend Nick going to be there?” Greg asked, inserting his finger into my body and curling it just like a question mark. I moaned loudly, feeling strange and naughty to be doing so while thinking about Nick.
“I don’t think it would be a good idea,” I said, trying to withstand the quick build of pleasure Greg was giving me. He was going to think I was a nymphomaniac with all of this carrying on. The truth was that it’d been so long since I’d been with anyone that I felt almost hypersensitive, with even the simplest touch making me sweat and quiver.
“You know what I think would be a good idea?” he asked, his thumb glancing over my clitoris, joining his finger in rhythm.
“What?” I could barely speak, let alone form coherent thought processes that included guessing what was on this divine man’s mind. “What…oh…what would be a…oh, fuck…good idea?”
“To stay in all day long,” he said, taking his hand away from me. I pouted, instantly bereft, then my mouth slowly fell open as he tasted my juices on his own hand.
“All day?” I licked my lips, wondering what I tasted like, and Greg obliged me that, too, by kissing me.
“All day,” he confirmed. “I know just what we could eat.”
And then his head was between my legs and I gave up on anything else.
By the day of the barbecue, I could barely walk, but I’d never been happier. Greg was an absolute gem, impressing everyone from Faith to Luke.
“I love the way he talks,” Sol exclaimed, taking me aside during the beautiful afternoon. Greg was deep in conversation with Xander, fascinated at the fact that Sol’s squeeze worked with the police department.
“The way he talks, the way he makes love, everything,” I said dreamily.
“Jennet!” Sol exclaimed, shrieking with laughter. “You have a glow about you. You dirty little thing.”
I leered and winked at her, and she grinned.
As we started to head out for the night, long after Luke had been sent up to bed and the beers and cocktails had been flowing, Faith stopped us. She was carrying a huge plate of leftovers, which she always sent home with anyone who attended one of her and Adam’s famous barbecues. It was almost better than the event itself.
“You better not forget your plate,” she scolded me, handing it over.
“Never,” I vowed.
“Greg, I’d make a separate one for you, but somehow I don’t think the two of you will be very far apart,” she said, smiling at him.
“I’d say that’s a safe assumption,” he said, planting a kiss on the top of my head.
“How much longer are you going to be in the city?” Faith asked. “We’d love to spend more time with you. Have another barbecue, maybe, or a day at the beach.”
“How could you be thinking of another barbecue just after we’ve stuffed ourselves silly?” he asked, laughing and holding his stomach. “I don’t understand why the lot of you aren’t enormously fat.”
“It fills up the soul, not the body,” she said, patting her heart. “That’s why.”
“Good night, and thanks for everything,” I said, giving her a big hug.
“Of course,” she said, smiling. “You all be safe.”
It wasn’t until we were driving to my apartment that I turned to Greg, puzzled.
“You never answered Faith’s question,” I said.
“What question, darling?” He didn’t take his eyes off the road.
“She asked you how much longer you were going to be here in Miami.” I paused, waiting, but didn’t get an answer. “Greg. How long do we have here?”
“The truth is, I just don’t know, Jennet.” He glanced over at me. “I’m dragging out my work as long as I can, but my employers are asking questions. Do we have to put an expiration date on this? Can’t we just enjoy every second we’re around each other?”
“I already do,” I said, holding his hand. “I always do. I don’t want what we have to end, even if you do have to go back to New York.”
He smiled and kissed my hand. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“That depends,” I said. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Waiting for you at my hotel,” he said. “I think you’d really like it.”
“It’s a date, then,” I said, and kissed him sweetly as he dropped me off at my building. I wished he could come upstairs, but I didn’t want to push him. We’d spent so much time together, and I knew he actually did have to do some amount of work while he was here.
The bed felt cold and empty and too big that night, however, and I looked forward to the next morning, eager to meet Greg at his hotel room. I’d been alone for so long that I had instantly become addicted to being around another person — especially one I cared for so deeply.
I got ready probably earlier than I should’ve, eager to leave my solitude behind, excited by all the texts I’d already exchanged with Greg since the moment I got up.
Out of my apartment a full hour before I’d agreed to meet my Prince Charming at his hotel, I told myself that I wasn’t going to just show up this early. I was going to play it cool. Run an errand. Grab a bite to eat. Drive around. Go for a walk. Anything to distract myself from this intolerable time apart. And maybe I could still play off being a little early — as long as I wasn’t an hour early. I walked toward the exit, jingling my keys in impatience, wondering if it would be better to just admit to Greg that I couldn’t be without him for a single hour. He’d probably just laugh at me…and then remind me just why he was so delicious to spend time with.
“Jennet, wait!”
I turned to see Nick stepping out of his apartment and into the hallway. Half of me was happy to see him — he was my friend, after all, and it had been a while. There was a lot to catch him up on about my life.
But the other half of me wanted to dance around in impatience. I was going to meet Greg at his hotel, and we were going to have another day of blistering romance, and Nick was delaying that gratification for me. I couldn’t help but resent him a little, and walked quickly back up the hallway to see what he wanted.
“What’s going on?” I asked, a little sad that I had to force a smile. “Long time, no see.” The more time I spent thinking about it, the more I realized that I hadn’t seen Nick at all since I first met Greg. That was silly. Nick and I usually ran into each other dozens of times throughout the day. Had he purposefully been staying away?
“Do you have a minute?” he asked.
I didn’t have a minute, and I didn’t want to subtract minutes from Greg to give to Nick. That’s not the way my time worked.
“Sure,” I lied, striding quickly down the hallway toward him. “But I’m kind of in a hurry. I’m meeting someone.”
“Greg,” he said, looking disgusted.
“That’s right,” I said, pushing my chin out. “Wait. How did you know his name? Have you met him?”
“Thin walls, remember?” Nick said, pointing at my door.
“Not that thin,” I said, skeptical. “Unless you’re pressing your ear against the door. Please tell me you weren’t doing that.”
Nick let out a big breath. “I don’t need to have my ear pressed on the door to hear you screaming his name while you’re having sex with him, Jennet.”
Wow. I’d never felt so embarrassed in front of Nick before in my life. I hadn’t cared who’d heard me when Greg and I had finally given in to the unbearable attraction we had to each other. But now I did. I cared deeply. Nick was my friend — or I thought he was, at least. I didn’t want to alienate him like this, and certainly not from him having to listen to me have sex with Greg.
“I’m sorry about that,” I said. “I’ll make sure we’re…um…that you don’t have to listen to th
at again.”
“I really need to talk to you about this, Jennet,” Nick said, looking sick to his stomach. I hoped it wasn’t because he was picturing Greg and I having sex. I flushed and wished that the ground beneath my feet would just open up and swallow me whole to save me from my shame.
“Okay, whatever you need to say,” I said, crossing my arms in front of me almost protectively. I really didn’t need to hear anything else about my sex life with Greg from Nick. But I wasn’t prepared for what he really wanted to address.
“I don’t think this Greg guy is good for you,” he said, then leveled a look at me that told me he knew just how controversial that statement was going to come off.
I took a deep breath. “I don’t think that you’re in a position to say just who or what might be good for me,” I told him, fighting to stay calm, wrestling my voice into an even tone.
“The thing is, Jennet, you don’t even know this guy, do you?” Nick’s eyes were pleading. The only reason that my love life could be of any importance to Nick that I could figure was that he wanted to somehow insert himself into it. That made me so angry.
“I have the rest of my life to know him,” I said. “All I know is how I feel about him.”
“Do you know his last name?” Nick demanded. “If he has a wife or any kids? What his favorite color is? What he does for a living?”
“He works with a housing development company in New York City,” I said sullenly, daring Nick to contradict me or ask some other question. Sure, I didn’t know every specific fact about Greg. That wasn’t a fair assessment of whether he was good for me or not.
Nick made a harsh sound of disbelief in his throat before studying his feet for a long moment.
“You know I’m your friend, right?” he said finally, looking back up at me.
“I thought you were, yes.” I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was under some kind of attack from him, and it made me terribly uncomfortable. Why was he doing this?
“Friends look out for each other,” Nick said. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“The only person hurting me right now is you,” I said, embarrassed and even angrier at the tears that sprung into my eyes. “Why can’t you be happy for me that someone makes me happy in my life?”