by Shauna Allen
Tori stood and stretched. “Anyone hungry?”
“Me!” Ryder said.
“Me!” I echoed.
She smiled. “Okay. Ryder, why don’t you put the cards away then help me get the pizza in the oven?”
“Why do I gotta put the cards up?”
“The winner always cleans up. Don’t you know the rules?” She winked at me.
He studied her a moment then collected the cards into a messy pile, eventually getting them back in the box. I sat back and watched the show as they moved around the kitchen, opening the frozen pizza, rearranging the toppings just perfectly, then popping it in the oven. Next, she had him set the table with paper plates and napkins while she refilled our drinks.
It was all very domestic.
I chewed on that as we ate, trying to decide how I felt about it. Not good, not necessarily bad. Just strange.
But Tori made it all very comfortable. Which kinda made me uncomfortable.
We finished up our meal and Tori served us all chocolate ice cream before we moved to the sofa and fired up the Netflix. Ry picked a kid movie then snuggled in between us.
About thirty minutes in, I was bored to tears. Feigning a yawn and a stretch, I casually rested my arm along the back of the couch, my fingers curling through Tori’s hair as I massaged her nape. With the tiniest of movements, she leaned back into my hand.
Her head lolled back and she rolled to face me. The flicker of the television screen lit up her pale flesh. Her face was relaxed, happy, her gray eyes smiling. She turned her head a bit more and kissed my forearm.
Ryder was snug and warm against my side, his body heavy with sleep.
It was then, in that moment, that I realized.
I was falling in love with her.
Deep and wide and scary as shit, but no less the truth. Maybe I had been falling for her slowly, steadily, since I first laid eyes on her. As uncontrollable as the pull of the moon and just as mysterious. My heart knew what it wanted, and it wanted her.
Totally and completely and without reservation.
She must’ve sensed something different in me because she sat up and glanced down to Ryder’s sleeping face. “What?” she whispered.
“Nothing.” I shook my head, trying to deny the obvious a bit longer while I sorted it out.
She clearly didn’t believe me. Shifting carefully, she slid out from under Ry and stood. Moving to my side of the couch, she kept her eyes on me, her brows tilted in question.
Without a word, she sunk into my lap. I let Ryder loll over to lie on his stomach on the cushion she’d just vacated as her fingertips speared through my hair, massaging my scalp.
“What’s wrong?” she asked again.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?” I cupped her hips and ran my thumbs across the dip of her hipbones.
She frowned. “Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah.”
Her hands were still on my shoulders, her eyes serious. “These past few weeks . . . I . . . you’re my best friend.” She waited silently, while I simply stared, confused. “I’m serious.”
“About what?”
Her mouth popped open as she fished for words. “I . . . well—”
“You’re my best friend, too. So what?”
“So what? Just like that?”
I regarded her, trying to puzzle her out. “Yes, just like that. What am I missing here, Tori?”
She tilted her head. “Does the fact that we’re friends who happen to kiss sometimes bother you? At all?”
“No.” Should it?
A big breath puffed her bangs away from her face. “Wow.” She mumbled something about dense men and having to spell everything out. “Okay.” Facing me, she cupped both of my cheeks in her hands. “I’ve never had a real best friend before.”
“You haven’t?”
“No. And what I was trying to say was that you can’t really hide that you have something on your mind because we’re friends.”
“Best friends.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
Now her hands cupped her own face, muffling her words.
I gently pried her fingers back so I could see her luscious lips. “What was that?”
I watched as her gray eyes filled with tears. “I’m afraid I’m gonna screw things up with my first true friend because . . .”
My heart was thundering in my chest as it tried to gallop away. “Because what?”
“Because I’m falling for him. And I want to sleep with him.”
Thank fuck.
I stood so fast, she scrambled to hold onto my neck and wrapped her legs around my waist to keep from toppling to the ground.
With one last glance to make sure Ry was still asleep, I cupped her ass and strode down the hall to her bedroom. She said nothing, her hot breath fanning my neck.
In her room, her honey scent intensified so acutely, I had an instant contact high. I felt my way in the dark, only the sliver of light from the TV down the hall to guide me, and fell with her onto the bed.
“What are you doing?” I could’ve coated myself in the thick desire of her whispered words.
My lips found her throat. “What does it look like?” I mumbled against her flesh.
“I didn’t scare you off?” She gasped as my hand found its way under her T-shirt and slid along her hot stomach.
“Not even a little bit.”
“Wait.” She shoved my shoulders until I propped up on my elbows and stared down into her face. The moonlight kissed her features as our breath intermingled. A shaking hand touched my neck, ran down my shoulder, cupped my bicep. “Wait. I can’t breathe.”
I moved to roll off her but she clutched me desperately. “That’s not what I meant.” Her eyes squeezed shut, opened again. “Will this ruin things between us?”
I tipped my forehead to hers, fighting the adrenalin that raged through my body, demanding that I take her. “I hope not.”
“And Ryder?”
“What about him? He’s crashed like a dead person out there.” The uncertainty on her face nearly killed me. Too fast, too soon. “I’m sorry. I misunderstood. We don’t have to—”
“Yes,” she interrupted, her hold on me tightening. “Yes, we do.”
Tori
Trace stared down at me, his face awash in shadows. Even then, I could see how truly beautiful he was. Inside and out.
Concern glowed in his eyes as he waited for me to make a move.
The rational part of me was fighting for purchase on the slippery slope I was treading. Still, it was getting harder and harder to imagine a universe where this man would hurt me. My heart was literally crying out for him to slip in and heal all my broken pieces. How could I turn him away?
Choosing for once in my pitiful life to not overthink things, I leaned up and brushed his mouth with my lips.
He sucked in a breath so I did it again.
Every inch of him felt so right. So perfect for me on a cellular level, it now seemed impossible that we hadn’t come together before this night.
“Trace.” I brushed his lower lip with my thumb. He was trembling above me and I longed to soothe him. To be soothed.
He seemed to understand, dipping his head to take me in a kiss so full of everything, my heart threatened to splinter into a million pieces.
A low growl rumbled from his throat as I opened to him, tasting him with my tongue. His hardness pressed against me deliciously as his hand trailed down my arm, back up my thigh, hip, waist, ribs.
I think I mumbled an incoherent curse word, or maybe a plea, when his hot fingertips brushed my breast. I thrust toward him, begging.
He wasted no time, his lips engulfing my straining nipple through my shirt.
I forked my fingers through his hair, simultaneously pushing and pulling him. So many sensations and emotions were warring within me, I didn’t know which way was up.
He raised his head and met my gaze. “I’m not sure I can be gentle
with you,” he admitted, his voice gruff and coated with barely tethered lust. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long.”
His words were my undoing. I stared back, praying this was real. “I don’t need gentle.”
Placing one last openmouthed kiss to my breastbone, he slid off the bed. I whimpered at the loss of body heat. I watched him stroll in the darkness and close my door, locking it with a gentle click.
The moonlight sliced in through my cracked blinds and illuminated the ridges of his muscles as he yanked his shirt off in a one-handed tug. My mouth went dry when his hands moved to the button on his jeans without hesitating.
I licked my lips.
Within seconds, he was standing in front of me, hard and vibrating with male energy, his black boxer briefs the only barrier on his skin.
“You taking off those clothes or am I doing it for you?” The demand in his voice had my eyes snapping back up. I wasn’t used to this Trace. My happy-go-lucky sweetie had been replaced with a demanding beast. And I liked it.
He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes in a threat.
Message received.
I scrambled up and tugged my shirt off, tossing it in the general direction of my laundry basket. His hot gaze raked over me, making goosebumps rise on my skin. Fumbling with my pants, I did not feel like the vixen I would’ve hoped for in this situation.
“Let me.” His hand stilled mine. I peered up at him and a hint of the smile I knew so well peeked out as he took over the task of unbuttoning my pants and sliding them down my legs.
Now on his knees above me, he skated his hands up my legs, pausing momentarily to play with the bikini straps on my thong, then moving up to my lace-covered breasts. I silently thanked God I’d worn my pretties.
“I said I couldn’t be gentle, not that I’d hurt you,” he murmured, his voice like melted chocolate. “You don’t have to be nervous.”
“I can’t help it.” I fought the urge to cover my near nakedness as second thoughts ripped through my brain.
“Do you want me to stop?”
I swallowed a groan when his hands found the sensitive skin of my inner arm, tracing soft figure eights. “No.” I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Tori. Look at me please.”
I opened my eyes slowly and took him in, kneeling above me, his briefs barely concealing the evidence of his need.
“I want you,” he stated the obvious. “But I won’t push you. We can stop all this before it goes too far and stick with being friends. Just tell me what you want.”
What I needed was guarantees. A crystal ball to tell me my heart would remain intact if I let him in. Not to mention potential career suicide if this went bad. But, he had just as much to lose. He had a child who we were both invested in protecting.
Moving with deliberate, painful slowness, I touched his bare thigh. Muscle and smooth hair teased my fingers. I ventured a bit higher. “I want you,” I finally admitted.
“No doubts?” His fingers traced my jaw.
Fears, yes. Doubt, no.
I shook my head.
His gaze dipped to my shoulder, where he slid my bra strap down, tracing my flesh as he did the same on the other side. Bending, he kissed my chest between my breasts as he deftly undid the front clasp, setting them free. He drew back far enough to study me with open admiration.
“Sweet Jesus.” He leaned down and drew one bare nipple into his mouth, his hands plumping them both closer to his lips.
My back bowed off the bed. It had been way too long since a man had his hands on me, and never like this. It was exquisite torture.
I raked my nails down his back. The scorching heat of his body was consuming me. Our mouths meshed with palpable greed. I writhed as he finished removing my bra and yanked my panties down. His lips worshipped the flesh of my thighs, my hips.
I know for sure I cried out a fervent prayer when his mouth and tongue found me, tasting me like his last meal.
He didn’t relent until I was a quivering mess of nerve endings beneath him, my fist shoved in my mouth to stop my screams.
With a satisfied smile, he kicked off his briefs and rolled on a condom from his discarded jeans. Crawling up my body, our sudden skin to skin contact reignited me. His breath smelled of me as he kissed me, wrapping his tongue around mine in an intimate dance.
I was wrapped up in him—his arms, his earthy scent mixed with desire, the blazing heat in his eyes. He collected me so close that my breasts were smashed against his chest, his erection straining between my legs.
“You ready?” he asked, his voice strained.
“God, yes,” I answered, turning my lips to kiss a bead of sweat from his throat, tasting the heady saltiness of him.
Without another word, he thrust his hips and sank home. We moaned in unison and I shifted my body to seat him deeper as I gripped his ass to hold on for the rough ride he’d promised.
With a grunt, he pulled back, only to shove forward with enough force to slam the headboard against the wall. Again. And again . . .
“Daddy?” a sleepy voice called from down the hallway.
Trace froze above me, his head curled into my neck as he breathed heavily. “Damn it,” he whispered.
I stifled my disappointment and kissed his temple.
“I’m here, Ry,” he called loud enough for his son to hear. “I’m . . . uh, helping Miss Tori with something. I’ll be right there.”
Ryder shuffled in the other room and I imagined him getting into what was left of a bowl of popcorn we’d left on the coffee table.
“Think we were too loud?” I whispered.
“No.” With a great heave filled with regret, Trace pulled out and rolled to his back next to me, throwing his arm over his face. “He’s usually a heavy sleeper. It must be because he’s not home.” He blindly reached for me, finding my hand on my belly. “I’m so sorry.”
I peeked down at the erection still straining against his groin and felt sorry for him. “Don’t apologize. It’s just . . . one of those things. They happen.”
He rolled his head and studied me from under his elbow. “You’re awesome, you know that?”
My body was still tingling. At least one of us got a happy ending tonight. “I’m thinking you’re the awesome one.” I lifted his hand to my lips and kissed his scraped up knuckles.
With another sigh, he stood, yanked his clothes off the floor, and moved into my bathroom. The toilet flushed then the sink ran as he cleaned himself up. A minute later, he reappeared back in his mouthwatering jeans and T-shirt just as I was pulling my yoga pants back on.
I met him at the door, where he paused, his hand on the knob. “I guess I should get Ry home.”
I nodded. “Sure. I understand.”
His dark eyes met mine. “Do you?”
“Of course.” I offered a tremulous smile.
Suddenly, his hands were on my face, cradling my jaw, his long fingers in my hair. His kiss was fast and fierce and full of emotion. He pulled back and met my gaze. “We will finish this. That’s a promise.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
With a quick nod, he was gone. I took a moment to collect my thoughts before following him to the living room. He was crouched down by the couch, talking in hushed tones to his son and they both looked up when I entered the room.
God.
I’d already fallen for both of them.
Trace
I was a God damn quivering mess of hormones and emotion by the time I got Ryder out of Tori’s place and back home to his bed.
One taste of her and I was hooked. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get her out of my system. Those sexy mewling sounds she made when I tasted her, the scent of desire on her skin, the way her eyes lost focus when I was inside her . . .
I couldn’t get a sitter and get her alone fast enough.
After a long, cold shower, I tugged on my old flannel pajama pants and dove into bed. On the nightstand, my cell buzzed with a text.
Thanks
4 tonite xoxo
Ur welcome. Can I call u?
Absolutely
She answered on the first ring. “Hey.”
“I wanted to make sure we’re good,” I blurted. “Nothing’s awkward between us now, right?”
“We’re good.” Her voice was whisper soft and as emotional as I felt.
“Good. Cause if I screwed anything up, I’d never forgive myself.”
“You weren’t there by yourself, Trace.”
“Yeah, well. Still. I just want us to be good. And to do that again as soon as humanly possible.”
Her smoky laugh soothed me like balm. “Honestly? Me, too.”
I snuggled further under the covers, ready to get us back to normal. “So, what’re you wearing?”
She giggled again. “Same thing as when you left me. My T-shirt smells like you now,” she confided, her voice lower. “I may not wash it for a while.”
I closed my eyes as desire ripped through me. “You give me a chance, I’ll have every shirt smelling like me if you want.”
“Yeah. I want.” It sounded like the admission pained her, but I was right there with her on this journey. We definitely had chemistry, I’d known that from the beginning. But it was beginning to feel like we could have something real and special. More than fuck buddies. I’d never imagined that would be possible for me. I never imagined I could want that.
Tori made me want to throw caution to the wind and risk crumbling every single barrier I’d ever built. This would either be the single most stupid thing I’d ever done or the most brilliant. Only time would tell.
“So, when can we go out again?” I asked as I bent my free arm under my head and stared up at the ceiling, envisioning her without her clothes.
“Go out or get naked again?” There was a sexy smile in her voice.
“Both?”
She laughed. “I love your honesty.”
“Would it do me any good to lie and say I had no interest in being inside you again?”
I heard her quivering intake of breath. “No. I guess not.”
The silence between us was full of a thousand unspoken things . . . all too tenuous and scary to be spoken aloud. Like we’d pop the bubble surrounding us, surrendering every perfect thing we had, if we spoke of it.