Because, of course, Magnolia would be the one to trade recipe secrets in a bar.
“It’ll take out the bitter bite of the collards!” she finishes a split second before I lift her by her waist, carry her outside, and plant her on the sidewalk.
As soon as her feet touch the concrete, she stamps her hands on her hips. Her stern features match her scolding tone. “Hollis Barnes, that wasn’t very polite.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know. But I’ve gotta get you home before you regret tonight and hate me in the mornin’.”
Her expression softens. “Don’t you know I could never hate you?”
I sling an arm over her shoulders, allowing her to lean her weight on me, and guide her along the sidewalk. She slides an arm around my waist. “I sure hope you feel that way tomorrow.”
Her head rests against me. “Always,” she says, just shy of a whisper, and I hold her tighter.
A few girls pass by us, arms linked, the one in the middle a little unsteady on her feet. When her eyes lock on us, she calls out as her two friends help her past, “Aww! I love love toooooo!”
A small laugh escapes me, and Magnolia’s arm at my waist tightens. I glance over at her. “You okay?”
“Mmhmm,” is all I get in return.
I frown. “If you feel sick, just let me—”
“I’m fine, Hollis,” she mumbles in a weary voice. “Just tired.”
Less than a minute later, we’re stepping up to the dorm. I think she’s sobered up a little on the walk back, but I wish I could keep an eye on her through the night just the same. But, well…I reckon she wouldn’t want me hovering over her tonight of all nights and—
“Can I spend the night with you?”
I jerk my head to stare at her in surprise. She lowers her gaze as if she suddenly feels shy and quickly rushes on with, “Never mind. You’ve helped me enough.” She tries to draw away from me, but I hold tight to her. “I’ll be fine.” She tries to inject firmness to her words, but I can hear the vulnerability clear as day.
“Shortcake.” I wait for her to raise her eyes to mine. “I told him not to come back tonight, and after what went down, I know he won’t. So…” I tip my head to the side and try to offer her a comforting smile. “You’re welcome to stay with me.”
She holds my gaze for a long beat before nodding slowly. “Thank you.”
A moment later, we’re inside my dorm room, the entire building so quiet you could hear a pin drop since the designated quiet hours are enforced.
I don’t know what has me feeling antsy, but I scramble to pull out clothes for her to change into. After she disappears into our Jack-and-Jill-style bathroom we share with the guys next door, she returns with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. The scent of mint lingers as she gets closer. She must’ve used toothpaste on her finger to rid herself of the taste of liquor.
She appears almost shy, her clothes clenched in her hands in front of her, dressed in my T-shirt and a pair of my boxers. I’m not sure what to make of it, but deep down, something about seeing her in my clothes is strangely satisfying.
“Can I set these somewhere out of the way?”
I tip my head to the area near my desk. Then I quickly head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and change into a pair of pajama pants and an old T-shirt. Once finished, I pull the door closed behind me.
“You can take my bed. I’ll grab a blanket and sleep on top of his bed.”
“Could you”—she hesitates with a wince—“lie with me for a bit?”
“Okay.” My voice is low and huskier than usual. I walk over to her and peel back the covers. She slides between the sheets, shifting to her side to allow me some room on the twin mattress. She frowns and shakes her head, sitting up.
“Can you lie on your back, and I’ll just curl up along your side? That way, you’ll be more comfortable, right?”
I shift to my back. As soon as she curls up with her head on my chest, an arm draped over my chest and a leg over one of my thighs, I let out a slow exhale and close my eyes. Damn, it’s been a hell of a night.
“This is nice,” she whispers.
My mouth curves up slightly, and I whisper back, “It is.”
Silence fills the room and just when I think she’s drifted off, she whispers again. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Mmhmm.” Shit, I’m tired.
“What’s an orgasm feel like?”
My eyes flash open, and everything stills. I’m afraid to speak, let alone move. Thank God she doesn’t look up at me. Even with the bit of light from outside shining in through the blinds, I’m not sure I could handle her staring me in the eyes, waiting on my answer.
I clench and unclench my jaw, wondering how the hell to handle this. Finally, I just think, The hell with it.
“Shortcake, you mean to tell me those guys never gave you a damn orgasm?” Fucking asshats.
And goddamn Preston. I grind my molars wishing I could hit him again. What kind of guy would date her for so long without giving her an orgasm?
She shakes her head against me. “No.”
Something in the way she says that one word sends prickles of unease through me. “Wait. You mean, never with a partner, right?”
Her voice sounds tiny, and I can practically feel the embarrassment radiating off her. “I know I sound stupid, but I’ve just never felt comfortable tryin’ to…you know. With myself.”
I stare at the dark ceiling. Lord help me. This is a conversation I never thought I’d have with her.
Ever.
“I mean, I’ve googled it.” Her index finger starts tracing a random pattern on my chest, and my abs contract instinctively. The reaction down below is jarring because my dick begins to harden.
Not okay. Especially when part of her arm rests just a few inches above it. Not to mention, just because she’s asking me a question about masturbating doesn’t mean she wants to sleep with me.
Even if my buddy down there is delusional enough to think so.
“The diagrams are so confusin’.”
Diagrams? What the hell is she talkin’ about?
“I mean, you’d think that with all the info on the internet that guys would be able to zero in on the clit. But noooo.” She drags out the last word, then releases a long, disappointed sigh. “Then again, it’s not like I’ve been able to work my magic on it, either.”
A choked sound escapes me. “Uh, Shortcake? I’m not sure this is a conversation you should be havin’ with me.”
She shifts to prop her chin on my chest, and a shaft of dim light illuminates part of her face. “You’re the only person I can have this conversation with.”
I part my lips to protest, but she interrupts with, “Hollis, just listen for a minute.” A split second of a pause hangs between us before she tacks on, “Please.”
When I stay silent, waiting her out, she continues. “You were my first kiss. You’re my best friend and…” She trails off before starting again, her voice hushed. “I just know that I can tell you anythin’, and you won’t laugh at me or make me feel stupid.”
I drag a hand over my face slowly with a silent groan. Shit. Of all the things she could bring up.
“Are you good at, um, you know…findin’ a girl’s clit?”
My hand stops at my jaw, and I run it along the slight scruff, trying to buy time.
“I swear, Hollis, I won’t breathe a word to a soul.” Her hushed pleading tone has me wavering. “I just don’t want to be clueless forever.”
Dammit. As idiotic as it sounds, I know if our roles were reversed, she’d suck it up and talk to me about it. Which is why, even though my tone is resigned, I grit out an answer.
“Yes.”
She practically vibrates with curiosity. Even her voice perks up. “Yes, you know how to find it?”
I toss an arm over my eyes and grunt an, “Mmhmm.”
If I could drown in awkwardness, this would be the moment.
“So, you’ve made a girl, um…orgasm that way?�
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“Magnolia…” My tone is exasperated as hell. And for good reason.
“I’m just askin’ because—”
“Yes.”
There’s a millisecond of a pause before she softens her tone to a hesitant, “And you’re sure of this?”
I fling my arm off my eyes and speak through clenched teeth. “Yes.”
“How can you be so su—”
“Because she came all over my goddamn tongue!”
Fuck. I didn’t mean to say it so loud. Or be that crude.
I rush to apologize. “I’m sorry, Shortca—”
“Did you like it?” Her voice has a hint of breathlessness to it.
I pinch my eyes closed and murmur quietly, “Yeah. I liked it a whole hell of a lot.”
My damn dick is getting harder to the point where pretty soon, she’ll notice. But it’s not because I’m thinking about the times I went down on Charlotte. It’s that my mind has replaced her with Magnolia, and now I’m thinking about her riding my face. Thinking about the little sounds she might make. How she might taste.
How I’d damn sure find her clit and make her come. How she wouldn’t wonder about much of anything after I finished.
Fuck.
Her voice sounds small when she finally says, “He never wanted to do that.” Then in a derisive tone, she adds, “Always said it wasn’t his thing.”
If I could go back and punch Preston harder, I’d do it just for that alone. What a selfish little shit.
I lower my eyes to her partially illuminated face and run a finger down her cheek. “He’s a clueless asshole.”
Magnolia falls silent for so long, I think she’s done with the conversation. I relax, my muscles losing the rigid tension, and close my eyes.
“Could you show me?”
My eyes snap open, and I stare at her, my lips parting in shock. “What?”
She shrugs. “It would be the same as the kiss you gave me. You just show me how it’s done right so I know from here on out.”
I huff out a laugh filled with exasperation and disbelief. “Not quite how it works, Shortcake.”
“What about dry humpin’? I’ve never done that before.”
“You are not. Askin’ me. To dry hump you,” I grit out.
“I am.” She nods.
I don’t respond because I’m not sure I can. Or what the hell to say.
“I just”—she drops her voice, her tone gentler—“need to know if I’m the problem.”
I don’t know what the hell I did, but it must’ve been a hell of a doozy to piss off the big man upstairs and get tortured like this.
“This is so fuckin’ awkward,” I mutter under my breath.
She shifts, rising up to straddle me before lowering herself down. Right over my dick that’s clearly jonesing for action since he hasn’t seen any since Charlotte and I broke things off. And it’s not for a lack of offers. Guess I’m old-fashioned, but I want to be with someone I actually care about and like. Someone I want to spend time with.
It doesn’t mean it makes my dick happy, but that’s too damn bad.
“Ohhh…”
Yep. She’s realized exactly what I’m packing. These pants don’t disguise much, and the boxers she has on aren’t much of a barrier either.
She rocks her hips experimentally, ripping a pained sound from my throat, and she immediately stops. I mash my lips together and close my eyes.
“Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head.
“Can I…do it again? Because it feels good”—her palms flatten against the hard wall of my chest, her voice catching slightly when she grinds against me—“when I do that.”
Shit, shit, shit. Without thinking, I find my hands gripping her hips. I keep my eyes closed, and it’s dumb, but a part of me rationalizes that if I keep them closed, this isn’t real.
That I’m not doing anything wrong. That we’re not crossing some line.
When I tighten my hold on her, guiding her to work herself against me while I give a shallow thrust upward, that little hitch in her breathing sends a surge of heat flicking through my veins. “Make sure you’re gettin’ your clit.”
There’s no mistaking the breathlessness in her tone now. “I am.”
My voice is low, gravelly. “One sign you’re doin’ it right is when you’re wet.”
Now, she’s moving on her own, to her own rhythm, without my guidance. I slip my fingertips beneath the waistband of the boxers she rolled down a few times and graze my thumbs against her hip bones. God, her skin is so damn soft.
“I’m—” She breaks off, her breathing choppy. “I’m really wet.”
Hearing her say it makes my cock leak at the tip, wetting my pants to combine with the slight dampness from her. I wish there were more light so I could see those cotton boxers. Wish I could see the spot of wetness from her pussy.
Fuck. I roll my hips, pressing my cock harder against her, and she gasps. Her movements are more frantic now, and I know what she’s chasing.
“It’s…”
“I know.” My whisper is ragged. “Keep goin’. Make yourself come hard.”
Shit. My balls tighten, a pressure building as a tingling spreads through me.
“Oh, Hollis.” The way she whimpers my name has me gritting my teeth to hold back. No way in hell will I get off before her.
Without thinking, I slide one hand up beneath the front of her shirt. When I find her braless, I can’t resist running the pad of my thumb over her hard nipple. She instantly arches into my touch, continuing to work herself over me.
Her nipple feels perfectly puckered, and I’m dying to get my mouth on it. To suck on it while she rides me hard.
Magnolia suddenly shifts. My eyes squint open—I’m equal parts scared shitless that this is only a dream and also that it’s not. That I’m doing the worst thing I could possibly take part in. That I’m betraying my best friend by taking advantage of her.
She sheds her shirt, letting it drop to the floor, and fuck me. The faint light on her body… She’s just perfect.
I jerk upright, bending at the waist. Cupping the weight of one breast in my hand, I latch onto her nipple, sucking it deep into my mouth. When I flick my tongue against the hardened tip, her faint cry of my name urges me on. One of her hands clenches my shoulder in a near death grip while the other cups the back of my head, as if to prevent me from stopping.
No way in hell anyone could make me stop. She tastes so fucking good.
I move to her other nipple while I palm her firm ass cheek, urging her on. The front of my pants is damp, and I’m dying to tear everything away and have her sink down on me. To bury myself deep inside her.
“Fuck, Magnolia.” I groan the words against her skin, then flick the tip of her nipple again with my tongue. Her tortured-sounding moan urges me on. “I need you to come, baby girl. I don’t wanna come without you.”
The clench of her hand on my shoulder tightens, and her breathing turns even more ragged, telling me she’s close.
“What do you need?” I toy with her nipple, laving it before circling the areola and repeating. “Tell me, and I’ll do it.”
“I…” She falters, and I sense the hesitation even through the thick fog of arousal hanging over me.
“Tell me.”
When she answers, her voice is so faint, I strain to hear her. “A kis—”
She doesn’t finish because I grip her ponytail in my fist and fit my mouth to hers, mindless to being gentle. The kiss is hungry. Explosive. Desperate. Wet. My tongue darts inside to toy with hers, and her ragged moan gets lost in the mix. I can’t seem to get enough.
Finally, I retreat slightly to catch her bottom lip between my teeth and gently tug on it. I can’t help myself. My voice is hoarse, heavy with lust. “You taste so fuckin’ good.”
That’s the instant she explodes.
“Hollis.” My name comes out as a shaky whimper, laced with a sense of both wonder and surprise. She fastens her lips to
mine, her scream muted by mouth as she comes.
The damp heat from her body has me mindless to anything but the feel of her beneath my palms and the weight of her on top of me. The way she moans while I kiss her and work her over my hard cock.
One more deep thrust against her is all it takes before every muscle in my body goes rigid and I jerk, my cock pulsing and shooting in hot spurts. “Fuuuck.”
She breaks the kiss, breathing ragged like my own, and slumps against me. I lean back to lie flat with her sprawled out on top of me. Smoothing back stray strands of her hair from her face, I lightly trace slow circles over her bare back. My heart thunders in my chest, taking its damn time to slow down.
Our breathing is the only sound in the quiet room. With her cheek pressed to my chest, she moves, and it’s almost like she’s nuzzling me.
“Hollis?” Her barely audible whisper causes every muscle in my body to tense. I’m honestly not ready to let reality intrude just yet.
I draw in a slow breath and close my eyes to concentrate on everything at this moment. I may only be a college freshman, but I know enough to realize that what just happened wasn’t something casual.
At least not for me.
“Gotta get cleaned up.” I slide off the bed and rush to grab another pair of pajama pants before darting into the bathroom to clean up and change.
The entire time, I’m internally laying into myself.
Dammit. What have I done?
Magnolia Barton is and has been my best friend for years, but there’s something between us that hints at more being possible. We have a spark.
No, that’s not right. It’s more like a lit match to kerosene. Hot as hell.
But maybe she doesn’t feel it. Not only that, but just because this happened doesn’t mean she feels anything for me aside from just needing a body tonight. She’s never once implied she feels something for me—something more than friends. Plus, she’s been drinking tonight.
Tonight’s opened up the biggest fucking Pandora’s box for me—the one I held in secret. The one I shoved away in some dark part of my mind because I knew—know with painful certainty—that I have no chance in hell of her reciprocating my true feelings.
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