Leakage: A Friends-to-Lovers Romance

by Harley, Karen

  Rules:

  1) Anyone can drop out of the Challenge at any time and end it.

  2) Dropping out means the Challenge ends for everyone, not just the person/people dropping out.

  3) If anybody can't make the scheduled Challenge date, he or she must tell the rest ASAP and we will all reschedule.

  4) During Challenge time, we do not go into the apartment assigned to the other couple unless of course an emergency crops up.

  5) No leakage allowed. Leakage means when the Challenge starts to mess up our friendships. If leakage occurs, we agree to end the Challenge.

  6) No discussion about the Challenge outside of Challenge time except as needed for moral support and working out logistics. (This is to help prevent leakage.)

  7) All participants will go on as usual with their usual relationships and/or sexual encounters with other people.

  8) The Challenge is for sex only, not a romantic relationship.

  BACKSTAGE

  Friday was the longest day of Sara's life. Not because she'd hardly slept the night before and was up before dawn. Not because of the three last-minute clients at the therapist's office that led to her working an hour overtime.

  No. It was simply that today, eight o'clock couldn't get here fast enough.

  Despite stopping at the food co-op for a smoothie and groceries, her stomach was growling by the time she got home. As she passed the guys' apartment door, she resisted the urge to pause like an overeager puppy and put her ear to it to see if they were home yet.

  Pencil greeted her frenetically when she opened the door. She gave him a nice long walk around Green Lake, which took about forty-five minutes. Jasmine still wasn't home when she returned. No shocker; in the last couple of weeks, her roommate had been working till the wee hours, even on the weekend.

  Although of course, Sara reminded herself as she began preparing dinner, today Jasmine would have to come home at a reasonable hour. She had a date.

  If you could call it that. With Matt.

  And Sara had a date with Harrison.

  Best friends dating best friends.

  Today was the first day of the Challenge.

  Tonight, rather. Eight o'clock. Until midnight.

  The first Friday.

  What would happen when eight o'clock arrived and Harrison knocked on the door? She could think of any number of scenarios.

  One. He'd chicken out. Cancel. Or maybe he just wouldn't show up in the first place.

  Two. He'd gamely try to get it up, but he just wouldn't be able to stop thinking of her as a sister, a platonic pal.

  Or three, he'd be weirded out by Sara's drooling lust for him.

  The Mexican tortilla sandwich sat in Sara's stomach like stone.

  She spent an embarrassingly long time debating over what to wear, then showered and dressed. And waited. By 7:45, Jasmine still hadn't arrived and there was no sound of activity outside in the hallway. Matt was probably around, he usually was anyway, but she didn't know if Harrison had gotten home. Was everyone going to chicken out?

  Her heart was pounding by 7:55.

  It occurred to her belatedly they hadn't really planned how the zero hour would play out. They'd labored over everything else, but they hadn't specified who was going to knock on whose door, whether they'd call ahead of time, whether they'd all meet together or separately, or what.

  At 7:58, she heard noises in the hallway. Well, that tore it. She jumped up from the sofa, forgetting Pencil, who barked in surprise and scrambled off after her. A few moments later she flung open the door.

  Outside her apartment, the others were all loitering, standing there awkwardly like in some old Western movie showdown. They turned automatically to where Sara stood in the open doorway.

  "There you all are," she said brightly.

  "Yup. Here we are. Eight o'clock." Matt leaned against his doorpost. He gave Sara a once-over, a grin, and a thumb's-up. She mock-scowled at his own get-up, which only differed from his normal outfit in that his tee-shirt was more wrinkly than usual.

  Jasmine gave a small smile and busied herself stuffing her keys back in her purse, not meeting anyone's eyes. She gathered her long, red woolen coat more tightly around her figure.

  Harrison stood behind the others with his hands in his pockets. He was staring at Sara wordlessly. She noticed he was wearing his usual outfit—chinos and a button-down shirt with penny loafers.

  Sara gave an exaggerated sigh. "Well?"

  Nobody did anything.

  "Come on, you guys, don't just stand there like a bunch of social retards." Sara reached out her hand toward Harrison, who automatically took it. Then she unceremoniously yanked him into the apartment. She heard Matt laugh as the door slammed shut.

  FIRST FRIDAY—JASMINE AND MATT

  "Are you going to stand there like that all night?"

  Jasmine supposed she should be grateful Matt had waited even a few minutes for her to gather her composure after Sara and Harrison had disappeared into the apartment. Unfortunately, she hadn't moved, hadn't spoken, and now couldn't manage even a cool smile.

  But now she did manage to say one word: "Hi."

  Please. Make this easy. Act normal.

  "Hi," Matt said, making it easy, just as she wanted.

  It didn't help.

  She stood there like a complete dolt. She didn't know what to do. For the last few days she'd been trying not to think of this moment. Luckily, she'd had little contact with Matt, only seeing him from a distance if at all. And work had kept her from pondering too long and hard about the Challenge. Only the nights were bad. During the nights, she dreaded it. Anticipated it.

  Now she looked at the ceiling. The stairwell. The hallway walls behind him. Never at his face. But when she glanced down at the floor, she saw out of the corner of her eye that his hand was extended toward her, the palm turned upward. An invitation.

  Had he been holding out his hand to her like that all this time?

  Almost afraid to believe it, she unloosed her right hand from its killer hold on her coat and put it into his.

  His grip clamped onto her fingers so tightly she jerked and stumbled and looked up, startled, finding herself inches away from him.

  "Jasmine."

  Strange, she'd spent a lot of time in the last two years thinking about Matt's physical appeal. About his classically good-looking features, his killer body. But she'd never really thought about his voice. It was a voice made for sex—very low, soft, mellow, and clear.

  "All right," she said. "Let's just get this over with."

  His face was so close. She tried not to look at his eyes. That meant focusing on his jaw. It was uncommonly clean-shaven, no shadow today. Matt's lips were neither full nor narrow, moist-looking nor cracked. Just a very nice mouth in a very nice shape. His lips parted.

  That was all the warning she had. Then his mouth was on hers. Jasmine stilled as the draft in the hallway, the background noises of the street, the rushing of her own blood faded away and there was only the gentle feel of his flesh sliding over hers, clinging. And then it was over.

  "Yeah," he said. "Let's go get it over with." And he let go of her hand, turned, and went to his apartment door.

  She stood there in shock, reeling from the kiss. The first time he'd ever kissed her, even casually. And now her whole body was on fire. The coat was like wearing an oven.

  Oh, God. She couldn't do this.

  "Come on," he said impatiently. Forcing her feet to move, forcing air back into her lungs, Jasmine followed him. He held the door open for her while she went first.

  She cleared her throat. "You've cleaned up."

  "Not really," he said. "We nuked the place last week. It's been going downhill since then. You left your earrings last time you were here." He gestured to the small table by the window. "I keep forgetting to bring them over."

  Last week. Had it really been only a week since she'd last been to Matt's apartment? She'd been here so many times with the rest of their small gan
g. She found herself automatically eying the closed door they'd just come through, then had a surreal moment of awareness that Harrison and Sara were not going to come in.

  It was just Matt and her in his apartment. But suddenly it was unfamiliar. More like…like his lair, and she was some kind of captive. Weird image.

  He went into his bedroom without another word. She loitered in the living room. Matt's and Harrison's bedrooms were habitually no-go territory. Not that it was a rule or anything, but when she and Sara came over, they just didn't go in there.

  She fingered the buttons on her coat, then dropped it onto the plush couch.

  Matt appeared in his doorway and leaned on the post. He started to say something, then stopped.

  "Nice outfit," he finally drawled.

  Jasmine looked down at herself. She was still wearing her slim navy blue business suit. Since there was a full-service bathroom in her parents' executive suite, there had been no need to torture herself by coming home from work early to get ready. She'd just showered, re-applied makeup, changed into new underwear, and donned the same clothes before coming here.

  "It's what I wore to work."

  "Yeah, I know."

  "Is that a problem?"

  "No, it's not a problem. You're not going to be wearing it for much longer, anyway."

  She supposed she shouldn't have felt shaken up by that. It was the kind of thing Matt would say.

  "Whatever." She was beginning to get her composure back and decided it had been a good move, wearing the suit instead of some kind of date outfit. It put her at something of an advantage. "We really haven't discussed it yet, have we?"

  "Discussed?" His brows rose.

  "Sara's plan. What we're trying to accomplish. What's going to happen tonight."

  "Riiiight. Okay. What's going to happen is that you're going to come in here and I'm going to close the door."

  Oh. His bedroom. He wanted her there.

  She didn't budge. "And then?"

  "And then we have four hours."

  "But to do what?"

  He shrugged. "According to Sara, the plan is for lessons."

  She remembered. Lessons to help her loosen up and him gain self-control.

  This struck her now as intrinsically unfair. Matt didn't seem to care if he had self-control or not, but she had no desire to loosen up.

  At all.

  She breathed deeply. There was something else that needed addressing. "I'm, uh, free of sexually transmitted diseases. In case you wondered. What about you?"

  He smiled gently. "I'm clean."

  "No exceptions? Accidents?" she said. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. Never careless. Documentation is available."

  Jasmine was impressed, despite herself. "Okay."

  So that was that.

  She racked her brain for more excuses.

  "Tell you what, Jas. Go get yourself a drink. Make it nonalcoholic, okay? There's cola and apple juice in the fridge. You know where the water is. Come in here when you're done."

  Her jaw dropped as he just turned around and went into his bedroom.

  Well, what was she supposed to do now?

  She was thirsty, though. And she'd fixed herself innumerable drinks at his place. It wasn't like this was new.

  But her hands fumbled as they took down the amber-colored glass, poured herself a soft drink. Sipped it with trembling lips. The sweetness delighted her taste buds. After just a few sips, she found herself unthinkingly wandering back into the living room and toward his bedroom. It was as though he'd programmed her, and she was just following her program.

  She stopped just inside the doorway. Matt was standing in profile by the far window in front of his big computer monitor, bending over to look at the screen, one hand propped on the desk for balance. He was shirtless.

  His torso was tanned and his chest and arms were lightly muscled, his stomach trim. It was not the first time she had seen him bare-chested. She knew he had a wiry, athletic body, with strong legs. Not a body builder, just very fit and far stronger than he looked. She regularly saw him running laps at Green Lake in the summer while she did Tai Chi sets on the grassy lawn.

  But to see him suddenly half-naked here, tonight, was not exactly the same thing. Then she noticed his hand. It was at his fly. She must have made a noise, because he heard her then, glanced over her way, smiled, looked back at the screen, and finished lowering the zipper on his fly. Then he eased out of his jeans, one well-muscled leg at a time, still reading the screen.

  The movements were so casual they stole her breath.

  "Come here," he said. "Check this out."

  She felt her legs take her forward. When she was right next to him, Matt gestured to an area on the screen. She followed his pointing finger.

  And saw absolutely nothing. How could she focus on the jumble of letters and colors on the monitor screen when he was…dear God, now he was taking off his briefs. Plain white cotton. She watched them land on the pile of clothes in front of his closet.

  "This isn't the first time this dude has left a trolling comment. What do you think? Should I approve it or mark it spam?" He was removing his socks now.

  Jasmine couldn't help it; she had to look. Matt's butt was…oh, my God. That ass. Muscular and adorable and…

  He straightened. "Sorry, I'm blocking it. Here, have a seat. Read it and tell me what you think." He rolled back the chair for her, took her glass out of her hand and set it on the edge of the desk.

  Was he serious? He was standing in front of her stark naked and wanted her to read a comment some guy had left on his blog?

  Jasmine searched his face. He seemed serious. So she sat down and forced herself to focus her gaze. She did it at work all the time, focused on stuff that held no interest when she really wanted to be doing something very different.

  Like running as far away as she could.

  It didn't work this time. Jasmine couldn't help seeing his cock out of the corner of her eye. After that, she simply could not stop herself from turning her head to look at it. Jet black pubic curls. He was half-erect. His balls were—

  Matt's hand lightly touched the back of her head and guided it gently around so she was once more facing the screen.

  She blinked at the monitor several times, trying to block out the sight of that masculine package from her inner eye.

  She managed to forced herself to read the words in front of her.

  Then read them again. "Wow. That's obnoxious. He basically called you a moron."

  "Yeah. Happens a lot when you review children's toys."

  "Really?"

  "Mm." The hand at the back of her head began stroking her hair. "Something about a grown man spending all his time with toys and games makes people resort to the 'never grew up' meme."

  Jasmine's attention was split between his fingers on her scalp and a twinge of guilt. "I'm always calling you lazy and juvenile," she acknowledged.

  "That's only because you know me well." She could hear the smile in his voice.

  She couldn't believe he was touching her like this and she was letting him. She tried to remind herself that she hated casual touching. But those strokes on her hair were lovely. She felt like a cat.

  That's when Jasmine realized her sex was soaking wet and swollen and that if he kept up stroking her hair like this, she might actually come on the spot.

  She swung the chair around, breaking the contact.

  He glanced from the screen to down at her. "Well? What's the verdict?"

  She concentrated on making her brain function. "Spam," she said at last. "There's no reason to publish comments purposely designed to harass you on your own blog."

  He tilted his head. "You think so? Here. Look at this."

  He swung the chair around again and crouched down next to her. She smelled the scent of soap, felt the warmth of his body all the way through the material of her suit jacket and blouse—which were already too hot.

  "Damn desktops," Matt muttered as the curs
or skittered all over the screen. "Hold on." He reached around her and typed on the keyboard. "There. See this?"

  Jasmine closed her eyes. Engulfed by him, overheated, and so turned on she could barely sit still without twitching, she thought about just telling him to stop delaying and get it over with and put his cock inside her already.

  She forced her eyes open. "What am I supposed to—oh. That's a huge page."

  "Yeah. Over five hundred comments. I'd gone to Idaho for a week so I'd set it to automatically approve all comments. Got a whole lot of shit that I'd normally have deleted. It went viral."

  "Did it make you a lot of money?"

  "Mm, over time, yes, because search rankings went up. That was a while ago. I learned that sometimes to get the cream, you have to take the crap."

  "So what are you going to do? Allow it?"

  "Not sure yet." He closed the browser window, then stood up. Suddenly she found her gaze level with his cock. She just had a quick chance to see that it was now fully erect before he turned and walked over to the door, shut it, then went to the bed.

  He sat on the bed and looked at her. "Well, Jasmine?"

  Her tongue came out to moisten her lips.

  What, Matt? Do you want me to say you have the most beautiful set of cock and balls I've ever seen in my life? Because you do. You're a dream. And you have to know it. At least you can't see your effect on me.

  She grabbed for her drink and chugged the sweet, bubbly liquid down so fast she started coughing. Her chest started doing that up-and-down thing that meant she was panicking. "I suppose…I suppose you want me to…take my clothes off too."

  He leaned back on his arms. "It would be nice."

  It struck her then that he wasn't flaunting himself. He was just being naked. His complete lack of self-consciousness was disconcerting after all the posers she'd dated.

  The urge to reciprocate flared in her, but was tamped at the thought of what would happen when she, too, was naked. There was more than one danger there.

  "Here's my problem." She tried to sound calm. "If I do take off my clothes, it means we'll…uh…"