The F#ck It List: The Complete Story

by Rae Lynn Blaise

  I really think late thirties is the peak of men's hotness. The sweet spot. Hello, Benedict Cumberbatch, Michal Fassbender, Joel McHale, Tom Hiddleston.

  Men that age are experienced and well-seasoned. Maybe greying at the temples, but no health problems or creep-factor. I won't have to worry about him having a stroke or heart attack while we fuck.

  I blow out a frustrated breath after I coat my lips with cherry gloss. If only Scott was here to talk me up. I'm still super pissed he stormed off like that. Especially after such an amazing fucking night. But I still miss him. Like a lot. Is this what phantom leg syndrome feels like? It feels like I'm missing a vital part of me. A part I didn't realize quite how important it was until it was gone.

  This entire week since I saw him last, I've gotten myself off to him. A lot. Not to my other conquests or even future adventures.

  Just. Him.

  My memories of the things we've done together. Fantasies of what we still could do together. Thinking of his mouth against my pussy. Thinking of his massive cock stretching me. Thinking of his fingers in my ass. Thinking of his hands on my tits. Thinking of my mouth wrapped around his dick. Thinking of the countless orgasms he gave me.

  Feeling my nipples pucker at the reminder, I shake off thoughts and frustrations over my jerk best friend, and finish getting ready. My mind and emotions are all over the place without him around. Especially after our night with Brennan. It's gotten me all wound up and confused and frankly, super fucking horny every time I remember it, think about it.

  I'm starting to think he ghosted on me because things have gotten tense between us since we added all this sex to our friendship. Mind-blowing sex, but it's put awkward areas in our friendship. Has it made him think of and view me differently? Did he need a break so we'd have a chance to get back to normal? Should I have kept him out of this whole thing? It's been a constant worry in my mind that I haven't been able to shake almost from the beginning. And now it looks like I should have paid attention to all those fears.

  I don't know anymore. All I know is I'm finishing it. All I know is I miss him.

  And I hate that it's bothering me so much. We've had fights before and taken breaks from each other. It's no bigger deal this time than it was any of the other times. He'll be back eventually. And things will get back to normal. We've been through way too much together for it all to end now.

  I give a final pat to my hair before I shove my makeup back into the drawers. I need to go or I'm going to be late, and that won't win me any favors with my boss. I'm trying to seduce him, not piss him off.

  My phone flashes to life, vibrating against the bathroom counter. Scott's grin fills the screen. My chest lurches with a twinge of pain and longing. It's like he heard my thoughts, felt me missing him.

  What the hell, man? He hasn't spoken to me in an entire freaking week, and now he wants to call while I'm getting ready to leave? Fuck it. Fuck him. This isn't the time.

  I reach out with a trembling finger and press the decline button.

  I'm off to get laid. I don't have the time or patience to get into it with him right now.

  27

  I shove my phone in my bag and hurry from my home. I turn to lock the door behind me when I hear a noise from the front stoop.

  I spin around, my heart pounding and hands shaking when I see a man loom before me. I slide the keys between my fingers in a pathetic attempt of brass knuckles. Recognition only takes a split second to flare along with relief I don't have to fend off an attacker.

  "Scott!" I exclaim, trying not to show the rush of warmth flowing through me, replacing the fear at the sight of his familiar, handsome face. "You scared me. Why are you here? I'm leaving. I'll call you later." I move to sweep past him, nose in the air.

  I'm nowhere near ready to forgive and forget. No matter how secretly glad I am to see him.

  "Don't," he says, holding out a bouquet of flowers and a purple apron, halting my dramatic exit.

  My forehead wrinkles with confusion as I pause with my foot above the step. "Ummm..." What the hell is going on?

  "Hear me out." His blue eyes plead with me.

  Confusion overrides the hurt and anger. "What are you doing?" The flowers, okay. A good start to an apology. The apron? I don't get it. I already have a red one clenched in my hands. This better not be some weird make-up gift. Because if so, worst ever.

  He takes a tentative step forward. "I want you to listen to me for a little while."

  Red fury rages through me. He can't come here with flowers and an—an apron right before I'm due for work and for my final list item. I don't care why he's here. I don't have time for this. I almost shove him right off my stoop. "What the FUCK. Hell no. I'm not listening to a word you have to say. You've been a complete dick, and I'm sorry that you found your hard line in the sand when my fun was just TOO MUCH for you, and turns out being so close to another dick was intimidating, which is DUMB, because yours is way bigger than his anyways and you work it better, not to mention you had to actually teach Brennan Jones how to go down on a girl properly because he had no clue what he was doing, but still fuck you for leaving me, and--"

  He interrupts me. "I want to hire you."

  His words hardly sink in and I shrug them off, uninterested in his explanations. I'm not remotely done telling him off. I shake my head. "Scott, shut up. I--"

  He interrupts me again, desperation tinging his voice. "I want to be your boss, Amanda. And I want to be your professor."

  My mouth falls open and my brow furrows as my pulse skitters before resuming its hard pounding. What? He wants to be my boss and professor? What does that even mean? What the fuck is he thinking showing up here, making me late for work, all to just speak cryptically on my doorstep? He can be so infuriating when he gets like this. Speaking in metaphors and innuendos. He knows I don't like meaningless words, I like hard facts and actions.

  I close my mouth with a snap, determined to just shove by him and go to work. This can wait, and I'm too upset and pissed right now to be able to have any form of a calm conversation. He knows full well I was planning on seducing my boss today. He doesn't get to just disappear on me for a week, and then come here and make me late for work by offering to hire me. He doesn't get to—oh.

  The anger fades away, clearing my head, turning into something else as I finally start to catch on. He knows me. And that's why he's here, holding out a fucking apron and flowers. He knows I need actions.

  And this is a romance novel level grand gesture.

  Scott isn’t trying to make up our friendship. He’s declaring his love.

  I gasp at the feeling that swells my heart. It both surprises me and yet it doesn't. Because Scott HAS always been in my heart, I just never opened up enough to let him all the way in. I was scared it would fuck up our friendship.

  This entire time as I towed him along on my adventure, it was my biggest worry. I couldn't afford to lose him or fuck things up with him. He's my best friend and losing him would break me. Besides, he hadn't been interested anyway.

  Or had he? Have I misunderstood him this whole time? Is this what I wanted? What he really wanted? We should talk this out and make sure it's what we want. Right? I can't just jump into this. For just one second, I imagine being with Scott the way I was once with Adam. I imagine the differences, vast as an ocean.

  If I said yes, would it ruin everything?

  His eyes are soft and flutter with terror as he stares at me, shifting from foot to foot. "I want to be your football champion and your celebrity and your stranger and every other thing you can come up with. Let me be that for you."

  Or would I gain everything I ever wanted?

  Tears prick at my eyes. I need to touch him, make sure he's real. "Scott!" I run to him, heaving myself at him and kiss him hard. "Look, I-I want to talk about this, but I really am due at--"

  He cuts me off with a swift, but passionate kiss. "Yeah, I kind of called you in sick already." He offers me the apron again as I giggle. A s
trange giddiness bubbles up inside me. I'm reckless now, and determined to throw myself right off the deep end.

  Scott smiles, relief filling his voice, washing away the worry on his face. "So, I'm serious. Let me hire you. The cup of coffee I ask for must be made exactly the way I want it, or you won't get paid." His voice changes from relief and fills with dark desire.

  My humor fades into arousal--he's going to play boss for me? Hot.

  I grab the apron and tug him back inside, locking the door behind us.

  28

  The door barely closes behind us before Scott's lips cover mine and he presses me into the door, his hard body flush against mine. I whimper into his mouth, my bag and red apron dropping to the floor, and wrap my arms around his neck. His kisses are hot, desperate. They taste of relief and home.

  This is where I belong. In his arms, kissing him.

  I don't let the worries over the future invade and ruin this moment.

  Instead, I kiss him back with everything I have. All my love for him pours from me and into him.

  When he finally ends the kiss and pulls away, we're both gasping. We exchange giddy smiles and another swift kiss.

  He steps back. "You're late. You need to get to work." He sets the flowers on my little table by the door.

  I shiver at the stern note in his voice. "Yes, Boss." I peer at him through my lashes and slip by him, making sure my tits brush against his arm. I leave bits of my clothes making a path in my wake.

  He groans under his breath and follows me into the kitchen. I tie the apron on and smile. Where the hell did he find this? It plunges at the top, revealing abundant cleavage, and it's super short, barely covering my pussy.

  I turn to him. "Can I get you anything, Boss?"

  He leans against the counter, taking in every inch of me with a leer on his face. "I want you to prove to me you can handle making a simple vanilla latte."

  I smother a smile. "Sure, Boss." I start a nice, strong pot of coffee, then grab the milk from the fridge, pouring it into a saucepan on the stove, setting it to simmer.

  "While I wait for my order you need to clean these filthy counters. We have to maintain a hygienic work area."

  I play along, even though I keep my kitchen pristine. I grab the canister of Lysol wipes and rub down the counters with them, making sure Scott gets an eyeful of my cleavage, making sure my tits bounce.

  I sneak a peek at him and his eyes are zeroed in on my chest. I turn around, checking on the milk, and wipe down the counters by the stove, bending over a little and shaking my bare ass.

  I hear Scott suck in a breath.

  "You're supposed to get my order to me in a timely manner. This is taking way too long."

  "I'm sorry, Boss. It's almost ready." The coffee pot dings just as I finish speaking, and I pour half a mug full of coffee for him, topping it off with the milk I burned on purpose. I completely forget to add the vanilla syrup.

  I slide it over to him with a smile, waiting for him to take a sip. His mouth puckers and he scowls at me. I barely keep the smug grin off my face.

  He rises and stalks into the kitchen, pouring most of the drink into the sink, but making sure some splatters onto the floor.

  "I asked for a vanilla latte. Not burnt sludge. And make sure you clean that up."

  "Sorry, Boss. Right away, Boss." I speak in a breathy voice, fluttering my lashes.

  I grab my sponge off my sink and sink to my hands and knees, aiming my ass at him. My pussy is already glistening with desire and I'm sure he can see it the way I'm spread open and bent over.

  He whispers a choice curse word at the sight. I make sure the few drops he let hit the floor are really, really clean before rising. When I rise back to my feet, I squeeze my legs together and try not to moan out loud.

  I make him another cup, this time with way too much syrup. I know how Scott likes it, and tooth-ache sweet is not it.

  He tries this one and sighs sadly. "Amanda, you have to be better than this. You have to make my order perfectly." He slips his hand down the front of the apron to tweak one of my nipples. "If you don't, you won't get your payment."

  My lids grow heavy and slide half-closed. "Yes, Boss."

  He removes his hand from beneath the apron after another tweak that jolts all the way down to my toes. "I'll give you an easier task this time. Just make me a regular cup of coffee with cream."

  I oblige, making it right this time. He sips and sighs yet again. "Not enough cream. You know I like my coffee with plenty of cream." He stands close to me, so close I can feel the heat pulsing off him. I can't handle much more. I'm perched on the edge of a precipice and I want him inside me. I want his hands all over me.

  Scott slides his hand under the skirt of the apron, grazing light fingers up my thighs until he reaches my drenched core. He slides his fingers through my folds and brings them up to his cup, swirling them in the coffee. "This is my favorite flavor in the world."

  I almost come right then. He takes a sip and moans. "Finally. Perfect."

  I stare at his mouth, my frozen limbs making it impossible for me to move. Fuck, he is perfect. I want him so damn much. Now. On the floor of my kitchen. Bent over the counter. On top of the counter.

  I want to fuck him through every inch of my home. And then, I want to go to his house and do the same.

  He reaches up with his free hand and releases the tie of the apron from my neck. The front of it falls to my waist, revealing my breasts. He closes his eyes for a second, breathing deep.

  When he opens them, they swirl with a dark lust that makes me shiver in anticipation. He keeps moving close to me until the top half of me is splayed across the counter.

  He takes another sip of his coffee and nods to some internal dialog he's having with himself. Before I can prepare myself, or even realize what he's doing, he spills drops of coffee on my nipples. The liquid is warm, but not so hot it hurts. It spreads a different sort of heat through me as the droplets run down my tits. I hiss as he ducks his head down to lick it from my skin.

  I grasp at the edges of the counter as he dribbles and licks more from me. He trails of line of coffee down my belly and back up to my boobs, drinking his cup of coffee off my body.

  The hottest and dirtiest body shots in the history of time.

  When the cup is empty, he leans down to kiss me. All around me swirls the scent and taste of coffee. I'll never be able to drink a cup again without thinking of this moment. I'll probably never be able to drink coffee again without getting incredibly horny.

  It's totally worth it.

  Scott kisses and licks down my neck, past my collarbones, over my chest, to my nipples. He sucks on them one after the other, sending me arching off the counter. He grabs my wrists and pins them above my head while he continues his assault on my nipples. I bring my legs up and wrap them around his waist, grinding my needy cunt against the bulge in his jeans, the rough fabric scraping against me in an altogether pleasing way.

  Begs and pleading fall from my lips in whispers. I need him. I need to feel the proof this is real, that we're really doing this.

  He ignores me, feasting on my tits, running the hand not holding down my wrists along my sides, back under the apron. He pulls his pelvis away so he can reach my pussy with his fingers. He drags his fingers through my folds, rubbing at my clit in circles.

  My head thrashes and I moan as tingles spread through me.

  Scott raises his head and smirks at me. "I think I need more of my favorite cream. Ever since tasting you again last week, I've had such a craving."

  I whimper and bite my lip.

  Scott releases my wrists and kneels down on the floor beneath me. He tosses the apron up, revealing my pussy shining with my desire for him, resting my feet over his shoulders. No one else has ever gotten me as hot as he does.

  No one.

  He's the first one who made me forget Adam, and Scott will be the one to erase him forever.

  "I still have a little bit of coffee left. It'd be a
shame to waste it." Warm coffee spills over my clit and I cry out, spreading my legs wider.

  The first touch of his tongue against my core is almost enough for me to come, screaming his name. He moans with each lick, like I'm his last meal and it's the best one he's ever been given.

  He's more than welcome to enjoy it any fucking time.

  My eyes roll around in my head as he works his magic on me. After playing with my clit until I'm almost senseless, he slips his stiffened tongue inside me, folding it up to hit my g-spot. My moans and sighs join his until we create our own symphony of pleasure. His voice vibrates against me, sending me higher.

  My mouth falls open in a silent scream as my body wracks with tremors, bucking from the pleasure pouring over me, crashing over me, sweeping me away.

  Scott laps up every bit of my satisfaction from me, waiting until my body stills before rising from his knees and smiling down at me. He kisses me and I taste myself on his lips with a slight hint of coffee mixed in.

  Why did I ever think only one man wouldn't be enough for me? Scott is almost more than I can handle.

  He pushes himself off me and the counter, and helps me down onto my shaky legs. My apron falls back into place, but I don't bother tying the top back up. It's more fun this way.

  "I think I want an iced coffee this time. Let's make sure you know how to handle that."

  I grin. "Right away, Boss."

  He smacks my ass as I scamper squealing over to the coffee maker. I don't really have the supplies to make a true iced coffee here, but I make do with my flavored creamer and the now cooled off coffee in the pot.

  I hand the cup to him, the coffee crackling and popping over the brimming ice. "How's this, Boss?"

  He tastes it and hums with appreciation. "You're showing great improvement. Not quite as tasty as the last cup, but still. Quite delicious."