Leakage: A Friends-to-Lovers Romance

by Harley, Karen

  She had a bad feeling she used begging words. He kept her there, hovering on the rim of an orgasm that promised to knock her into unconsciousness, for so unbearably long that she began, like last time, to cry. This time, though, he took it as the signal. He clasped her hips bruisingly hard, and then he began driving in, ramming her down with something just short of true violence. A split second after she succumbed, she felt him erupt, drumming almost brutally inside her and without even trying to suppress his carnal groan.

  Right then as they came together, any idea she'd ever had that being on top of a man meant being in charge flew out the window. It was a true surrender on her part, so sweet the tears flowed on even after the last pulses of coming had faded, even after he'd gently separated them and gathered her to him, intertwining limbs.

  "Stop it," he murmured, kissing her hair. "Tigers don't cry."

  "Tigers?" she sniffed.

  "Owls. Badgers. Predators. They don't cry."

  "You think of me as a predator?"

  "Hungry," he said sleepily. "Fierce. Protective. Mm. Tired."

  He fell asleep in her arms.

  Bliss.

  She listened to his breathing and hers, felt the even rhythm of his heart slow-drumming against her chest.

  Gradually, though, the euphoria faded and her eyes began to watch the clock.

  At a quarter to midnight, she shook his arm. He didn't wake. She stroked down his back, to his buttocks, and he stirred. She heard him murmur something in a low, rumbling voice. Waited for his eyes to open, futilely. He slept on.

  At ten minutes to midnight, she pinched his thigh. His eyes blinked open, noncomprehending. She saw just when he registered her presence: his lips broke into a sweet smile and he kissed her and said, "baby," and she knew it was automatic, the universal male response to finding a woman in his bed.

  Her hand came down on his ass. Smack.

  "Wake up, Matt! Time to get dressed."

  Then he really woke up. "What the hell? Jasmine? Ah, shit. What time is it?"

  "Time for you to go."

  "Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Yeah."

  And he rolled away without another word or touch.

  SARA AND HARRISON REDUX

  Sara was absolutely going to murder him.

  Even as he swiveled his chair away from his desk to face her, having finally arrived at a stopping point, Harrison geared himself up for the inevitable. It was Friday between eight and midnight, and they were on the schedule. They were supposed to be having sex, not being hang-out buddies. Wrong-way leakage. Major transgression.

  It had been nagging at the back of his mind the entire time he was working. From all his relationships, he'd learned the lesson well, even if he'd never really understood the reason for the rule. When he was involved with a woman, the time he spent with her should be for her. To use his date time for regular stuff that didn't center around a girlfriend was to reject her. Once he'd gotten the basic principle, he'd at least begun to make a consistent effort to honor the letter of the rule.

  Sara was just his friend, so normally it wouldn't be an issue; the rules were different when you were just hanging out. But tonight, Sara's status was undefined. Friend, crossing over dangerously into girlfriend territory.

  Which meant she'd probably take it personally that he'd used up half their scheduled time to do work.

  Not that he'd had much of a choice. Unexpected events had required him to wrap up what he was doing before the weekend was over. He was relieved she'd sensed his urgency and given him free rein to work.

  But he didn't fool himself that she would appreciate being relegated to the back burner. Passing off his tablet to her had been a last-ditch effort to occupy her, but he didn't hold out much hope it would work.

  "I'm sorry about that," he began humbly as he turned to her. "I think I'm…." And ended when he saw that far from shooting him dirty looks, Sara was fast asleep on his bed.

  Relief was his first reaction. But almost immediately came the red flags.

  The first was how she'd managed to contort her short body so as to take up the maximum real estate on the bed with her limbs. That would drive him crazy if they were in a relationship. He might be able to live with it, though.

  The second red flag was more immediate and concerning: she'd skipped the chastity jeans, no doubt on purpose, damn her stubbornness.

  Earlier, he'd been too distracted to notice her clothes. She'd put on a voluminous sea-green skirt that looked appropriate for grade school, except that the way the skirt bunched around her well-rounded bottom was far from wholesome. Her red hair was all mussed and sexy around her head. Her tits were modestly covered in a fuzzy sweater, but the way they squished out beneath her as she lay there….

  Harrison was not aware of moving; he never consciously decided to get up, but the next thing he knew, he was leaning over Sara with a killer hard-on and a brain doused by sex-fog.

  He was brought to rude awareness by the sensation of his penis brushing her skirt; he glanced down and blinked. What the—when had he lowered his slacks? Make yourself right at home, Thomasson, why don't you? Just help yourself to whatever looks juicy on the shelf.

  Even worse, at that point he didn't do the decent thing. No, he tossed his glasses on the pillow, shoved off pants and boxers entirely and discarded his shirt without even unbuttoning it beyond what was necessary to pull it over his head.

  And then his hands were all over her, as if he owned her, and God, but her ass was lush, and it was so easy to draw up that skirt and take his palms and cup those ample cheeks, then tug down the panties and lie down and let his hands go all over her bottom and hips and between her legs and penetrate her with a finger. She wasn't wet, and that alone should have stopped him. But he kissed the back of her neck and let his hand roam wherever it wanted to, all over her sex, all the while rubbing his shaft against her as his body shuddered with pleasure. And pretty soon she started getting ripe and slippery, and now it was a simple matter to stab her with his finger, with two fingers, three. He couldn't believe how tight she was, how strong the muscles clenching his fingers.

  She murmured, her head turning to the side. He knew he should wake her up and make sure she was willing, but his body saw no reason to wait. His dick prodded at her entrance and then he was pushing in, feeding himself to her exquisite, wet—

  The sensation of nakedness hit him like a cold shock, stiffening his whole body.

  Jesus fucking Christ, he'd just crammed his dick inside Sara without a condom.

  It was the first time in his life he'd been inside a woman without one.

  And it was Sara.

  And she was asleep.

  He'd raped her.

  As if his thoughts had somehow transmitted to her, she stirred.

  "Harrison, ooh, what are you…"

  Fuck, oh, fucker. He tried to draw back. Really tried. But he ended up pushing forward again.

  "Ohhh." Her hips moved back, ground against him. That happy, throaty noise she was making didn't help at all. He thrust forward again, and again, and again.

  "Shit, Sara, I'm not—wearing a—condom—I need to stop—"

  "Ooh, no, you don't, that's nice. Just keep doing that."

  "Dammit, Sara—"

  "Oh, that felt good. Do that again."

  He drove in helplessly. "You know I have to stop."

  "In a minute."

  Paradoxically, her lack of concern lent him strength where his own will was failing him. He didn't know how he managed, but somehow he shoved away, rebounding onto his back.

  It wasn't really possible to register much for a while. To go from warm, wet woman to cool, empty air was literally painful. He sensed her moving, getting up from the bed, and she said something, and then, like an amazing dream, a condom was being rolled down his shaft and he was inside her again, and whether he or she had put himself there, he had no idea, but he was pounding, rolling with her, and it was such a relief, she was so tight, and the ache in his balls loosened up and
now pure lust drove him on, so that he forgot who he was with and what he was supposed to be doing, just as he'd been afraid of.

  The dismay only set in afterwards, after they'd separated and he'd climbed out of bed and gone in search of a paper towel. His hands shook as he disposed of the condom, avoiding looking at Sara as, for the second time tonight, he found himself apologizing, only this time it was a lot worse than neglecting her for a couple of hours.

  "I'm sorry," he said stoically. "That was uncool. I could have gotten you pregnant." And that's not the least of it.

  "Aw, it's okay. I'm sure it'll be fine. Wow. I mean…wow."

  She sounded extraordinarily cheerful. He did look her way then. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, still dressed, except the skirt was in disarray all around her legs and he suspected her underwear was somewhere lost in the bed. But if he didn't know better, he'd have thought she'd just been having a relaxed chat rather than having just had full-penetration sex with him for the first time.

  "If against all odds, you are pregnant, I want you to tell me."

  Her nose wrinkled in a classic Sara look. "Okay."

  And just like that, he imagined what would happen if a pregnancy did occur with Sara. The expected feeling of dread wasn't there. Not about that. But…

  "Sara, I know…look, I know I didn't satisfy you. I, uh…" There was no decent way to say it. I forgot who I was with and that eight to midnight was supposed to be about you and that I wasn't going to put my dick anywhere near your pussy. Instead I pretty much just screwed the hell out of you because you were a woman. Not Sara. Not a friend. Just a lust factory. Which has been the problem all along.

  "Oh, no, it was fine," she assured him.

  Yeah, right. "Really? You had an orgasm?"

  She nodded. He didn't believe her. He started to pace. "Dammit, Sara, don't lie about it. I didn't even go near your clitoris. I completely forgot. I was out of it."

  "Lie! You think I'm lying! Thanks a lot."

  "You have a habit of putting up with crap from men," he pointed out. "Why would this be different?"

  "Well, I don't lie about that. And you know what? Even if it hadn't happened, Harrison, what's the big deal? I'd have just told you if I was frustrated. It's not like I'd expect you to say, 'No, Sara, I shall not grant you an orgasm this night.' You're way more gallant than that."

  He stopped pacing. Now he had to tell her. She had him totally wrong. "Sara."

  "Yes?"

  "Last time I wanted you to wear a chastity belt. That didn't change this time, even though you wore a skirt. I still didn't plan to fuck you. But then tonight I turned around and saw you lying there, and that was it. The next thing I knew, I was inside you, without a condom."

  "It was wonderful."

  He reddened. "Yeah. Except I didn't want it to happen."

  "But why? I don't get it. What's the problem? That's what the Challenge is all about."

  The words came reluctantly. "I didn't fuck you because of the Challenge. Or because you were you, Sara. I…" Fucked you because you were lying on my bed and I thought I had a right to you.

  No. That wouldn't fly. He started again.

  "I used you," he said flatly.

  Her eyes got big.

  "I needed sex. I saw your ass, and I…needed it. And then I took it. And I basically forgot who you were." He swallowed. "Even the fact that you were asleep. It didn't matter. I basically raped you."

  The damn woman seemed to be trying not to laugh. "Harrison, you goon, I'm here for freakin' sex with you. How could it be rape?"

  She wasn't getting it. "If not rape, I still took something I had no right to take. And not in a…respectful way."

  "Oh." She looked solemn. "Is that what happens with your girlfriends? You, uh, just…"

  "Jump on them?" He shook his head. "No, never. I'm careful. I know how to be with them. If anything, I'm not that focused on the sex. They're girlfriends. You're not a girlfriend." He saw her suck in her breath, but wasn't sure what that meant. "As I keep saying, you're my friend. But that doesn't mean I can control things when you…like tonight, I went nuts. And," he took a deep breath, "it's not the first time."

  If her eyes had been big before, they were huge now. "What do you mean?"

  "It's always been like that. With some women, you want them because they're pretty, or you're flattered, or they're interesting. That's not the way it is with you. I've basically wanted to screw your brains out since I first saw you, before you ever opened your mouth. Not," he hastened to add, "in a romantic way. Just…"

  "Like an animal?"

  "Uh, yeah," he said uncomfortably. "It's not exactly something I'm proud of. Maybe that's why I always say you're like a sister. I don't want you as a girlfriend. Besides the fact that it would kill our friendship, it would drive me crazy, trying to follow all the relationship rules when I'm pretty much going into, uh, primal sex mode. Last time I ejaculated in my fucking pants, Sara. And today I forgot to even take care of you."

  She looked confused. "So you want to bed me, but you don't care about me."

  His chest tightened. "No, that's not what I mean. Of course I care about you, although you're exasperating a good lot of the time. But I can't trust myself to be considerate past a certain point."

  She gazed at him wordlessly. He couldn't tell what was going through her head.

  "So what are you saying?" she said finally. "You don't want to ever do that again?"

  "That's the problem. Now that I've done it, I don't think I can stop. Or cut it off at midnight. In fact, I want you again right now."

  Her cheeks got pink. "And that's supposed to be a bad thing?"

  He started pacing again. "I have no control with you. It means I'm going to hurt you eventually. Offend you. Hell, I don't know. Just…you're not my property. But I act like it sometimes."

  Now her face was very red. "Oh."

  "Jasmine told me you don't like tuna."

  "What? No, I don't. What does that have to do with anything?"

  "I like tuna. You hog the bed. I want to hog the bed. I'm always immersed in a research project, and after I graduate I'm probably going to go the professorship route and seek tenure, all of that, which means a lot of teaching, a lot of publishing, more academic pressures. You have fun. You like people and doing things. You see? We're fine as friends, because our dissimilar lifestyles don't conflict, but as lovers, we're opposed in every way."

  "Uh…okay. So what's your point? You're saying you want me now, but you don't want to do anything about it?"

  "No, I'm going to do something about it. As long as you're willing, I'm going to fuck you until I'm dry. But it probably won't end at midnight."

  "Ah." She leaned toward him, but he caught her hands.

  "Sara, I want to end this blighted Challenge."

  Her jaw dropped. "But we can't!"

  "Oh, yes, we can. Any one of us can end it at any time."

  "But why do we have to end it? We can just—"

  "Leakage, for one."

  "Leakage, schmeakage," she argued.

  "Why are you being so stubborn? You said you were going to rethink the whole thing."

  "Yes, but I changed my mind. I decided I want to continue it."

  Was she trying to madden him? "To put it very clearly, Sara, I don't want you fucking Matt," Harrison said bluntly. "From the way you acted last time, I don't get the sense you wanted me having sex with Jasmine. I think it's pretty clear that the only fair thing—"

  "Exactly. That's my point. It's not fair to them."

  "To them?"

  "There really is something going on between them. They're wild for each other. We could screw it all up for them."

  "Are you playing frigging matchmaker?" he said incredulously, letting go of her hands and straightening suddenly.

  "No, no. Not at all. It's just…"

  "You are. You really are."

  "Well, it's just that…Jasmine's nice and yet she picks these loser guys…"

&nb
sp; "So all that B.S. that first day about helping each other —"

  "It wasn't B.S., Harrison. I meant it all. It's just sometimes things happen for more than one reason."

  "And one reason you suggested the Challenge was because you wanted to orchestrate some liaison between Matt and Jasmine?"

  He was glad to see she looked nervous. He wanted to shake her.

  "Only a teeny, tiny little bit."

  "If this whole scheme was because you're trying to get Jasmine and Matt together, why didn't you just set them up on some kind of blind date? Why did you have to involve me and yourself?"

  Her expression became vague, which instantly roused his suspicions. "Sara, what was in it for you?"

  "Well, I kind of lusted for you, too," she said.

  Harrison stopped short. That was the last thing he'd expected her to say.

  His indignation faded just a bit. But he wasn't letting her get away with it so easily. "Did you even think about the fact that you're putting all our friendships on the line?"

  "Not much," she said frankly. "If I went through life worrying about that kind of thing, I'd go crazy."

  "That's exactly the kind of stuff I do worry about."

  "I know, but you're a dodo. Those are the kinds of risks life is for. I love you…guys, but nothing stays the same. Sometimes to get them to change you need to shake things up."

  A strange feeling swept him at her casual pronouncement that she loved "you guys." She'd said that kind of thing before, but it had a new flavor now, and he wondered if he could take it at face value as he always had. Now that there was another dimension to their relationship, it made him both giddy and uneasy.

  He didn't like either reaction. He liked knowing where he stood.

  Unfortunately, he didn't even know where she stood as far as he was concerned.

  Abruptly the tingling, background urge to take her again stepped up to the foreground.

  "I know you're all gung-ho for stability," she went on, crossing her arms over her breasts. "But life just isn't stable."

  "Which is precisely why I like stability so much. Sara, would you take off your clothes?"

  "There's no point in fi—oh." Her gaze kind of drifted down then, and he became self-conscious not just about his hard-on, but the fact that he'd been prancing around the room in his butt cheeks this whole time.