by Rowena
Her eyes finally widen in horror.
Wordlessly, she scrounges around, locates her clothes and rushes to the bathroom and locks it.
“Do you want me to send him away?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer, and I hear the shower turn on.
I go back to the front door and unlock it. Drew is waiting patiently on the other side.
“Sorry, man,” I begin. “I hate to do this to you, but the girl—she’s a bit embarrassed and doesn’t want you to see her. Said something about never having a one-night stand before. Anyway, she’s taking a shower right now, but would you mind coming back a little later? At least until she’s out of here? I’ll text you and let you know.”
Drew stares at me suspiciously before saying, “Sure, man. Let me grab that list from the kitchen—I’ll pick up some groceries.”
The shower stays on and the bathroom door closed the whole time Drew pops in, grabs the list off the fridge, and then heads back out, tossing “See you in about an hour,” over his shoulder.
Nicolette exits the bathroom, dripping wet.
“Bad idea,” I say, staring at her wrapped in a towel, her damp hair cascading down her shoulders.
“What are you talking about?” she asks innocently. “I was listening—it won’t take me an hour to throw some clothes on and get out of here.”
“We’ll definitely cut it close,” I say before heading toward her, picking her up and taking her to my bedroom where I lay her on the bed. She’ll just have to take another shower.
What was she thinking? I thought she was going to get ready in the bathroom, and then quickly make her escape.
I only vaguely remember last night, but I’m about to make some new memories—some that will stick.
I take a moment to take in her heaving chest and those delicious feminine swells on it, with their hardened peaks. I consider taking her nipples in my mouth, but aware of the borrowed time, I lower my head to her core instead. I start licking her, taking her folds in my mouth, alternating running my tongue over her clit.
Then I push my finger in her as I continue sucking on her, and feel the pull of her warm, beckoning insides as her juices make my finger slick.
My cock swells, and practically pulses in beats of desire and want. I maintain control long enough to treat her to my oral massage, but soon, I can’t take it anymore as my throbbing member begs me to smother it in her, and since I’m already naked, I give in to its demands and plunge myself in her.
I am blown away by how amazing it feels to finally be inside of her, having her pussy clench around me and watching her head bend back in pleasure.
She looks unbelievably beautiful and hot, and it makes me want to come, watching her writhe and squirm, and hearing those soft little gasps from her.
She belongs to me right now, and I make sure she knows it as I thrust hard and deep, claiming her roughly as I move rhythmically in and out of her, watching her face until she looks at me and acknowledges who is owning her pussy.
I feel a climax building in her, and it pushes me closer to the edge. I fuck her harder until I explode inside of her and collapse on top of her, feeling jolts of sexual ecstasy down to my contracted toes, stiffened momentarily as the wave of orgasm washes over me.
God, I can get used to this.
I wait a minute or two before reminding her that Andrew will be back soon.
She rushes off to the bathroom again.
This time, when she reemerges, she is fully dressed.
She grabs her keys, and I follow her to the front door, intending to keep my naked butt behind it once it opens. I’ll shower and dress later; I like her scent on me.
She opens the door, and then turns to me.
“I had a great time,” she says with a small, shy smile.
“Understatement for me,” I say in return, amazed I got her beneath me at last, yet still hadn’t had my fill of the delicious creature.
“I’m so much more capable of taking care of you than he is,” I want to say to her as she turns to leave, but I know better than that. Instead, I say, “I can take care of you while he’s gone.” I stare at her in a way that leaves no doubt as to what I mean.
Her smile is wider this time. “Sounds like a plan to me,” she says with a twinkle in her eye.
I watch her the whole way to her car, taking in her curvy behind, and remembering what it felt like to grab hold of it while on top of her on the couch, and even what it felt like to hold on to it while plowing her from behind.
My cock stirs at the flash of an image of her bent before me, hands grabbing on to the couch, and the sight of my cock disappearing into her.
I realize more memories of last night are making their way back to me, and it was a wonder that they had even disappeared—even if temporarily: enclosing her breasts in my mouth, my lips on her stomach. The way she whispered, moaned, and screamed my name.
I don’t know what’ll happen once Mike gets out of jail, and for now, I don’t give a shit.
Later today, tomorrow, and for the next few weeks at least, that ass of hers is mine.
END
TAKEN FOR GRANTED
By
ROWENA
TAKEN: HIS BFF SERIES
FORBIDDEN FRUIT
Cover photo by Artem_furman.
Eromantica Publications
First Edition: October 2014
SYNOPSIS
Avery’s fiancé drains their financial resources, leaving them broke and depending on Chad, her fiancé’s hot best friend.
They have to find a way to pay strong, muscular Chad back for letting them stay in his condo until they get back on their feet, and Chad has a couple of naughty ideas how.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
SYNOPSIS
I: AVERY
II: CHAD
III: AVERY
IV: CHAD
I.
AVERY
I try not to glare at Kevin as we stuff the last item in my car. Moving is usually a pain in the ass, but it’s even worse under the fog of humiliation from having lost our apartment, and becoming essentially homeless. Thank goodness my idiot fiancé has a friend who not only has a spare bedroom in his condo, but extra space in some storage facility where we can leave some of our stuff until we get back on our feet again.
I already knew I’d be the one handling our finances when Kevin and I get married, but stupid me let Kevin talk me into already starting a joint savings account, and Kevin lost most of our money gambling.
We are pretty much down to zero, and couldn’t ignore that eviction notice anymore. All we have left are our cars, and I am definitely not selling mine—I need to get to work; unlike Kevin, who lost his job a few months ago, and who hasn’t been able to find a new one since.
God, I promise I’m usually smarter than this—Kevin just wasn’t like this when I met him. He seemed like he had it together: he took me out to fairly expensive dinners, bought me gifts for various occasions, stuff like that. Even after we’d been together for a while, I had no clue that after all these years of being an adult, Kevin never managed to save any money at all from those high-paying jobs he used to talk about having.
Plus, my ring isn’t out of some cereal box either—it’s worth five-figures (and no, I’m definitely not pawning it). So what the hell happened, you ask?
Well, Kevin kept up his charade for a while, we eventually moved in together, and he convinced me that we could afford the rent in this spacious place we got—double the cost of what I was paying on my own, but I figured, well, there are two of us, right?
Little did I know he was living month to month at the time, had a bit of a gambling problem, and was driving without insurance, which, after a freak accident, had us paying thousands of dollars in out-of-pocket expenses.
The way we live, it just wasn’t possible anymore for me to sustain the two of us on my income alone—I am an independent contractor, and even though I manage to keep myself busy, the strain is just too big—what I bring in can no longer cover everythin
g. And like I said, whatever I had managed to save, that could have covered us for at least one more month, buying valuable job search time for Kevin, he threw down the drain.
Kevin told me he was feeling desperate and inadequate, and wanted to do something. He thought he was so great at online poker, and he was sure he’d double his ‘investment.’
Yeah, that worked out.
This whole thing is particularly stressful for me because I’m pretty far away from home, unlike Kevin, who is from this state. I grew up in the Midwest, whereas, in about two hours driving time, we will have moved from where we settled in L.A. to San Diego County, where Kevin grew up, and where most of his family and friends still live.
Of course, there was no way we were going to move in with any of his family—hell no, I’m not even going to get into that.
I’m just glad his old friend, Chad, is somewhat well-off, and they’ve been best friends since elementary school, so now here we are, about to head to Chad’s.
I’m not as embarrassed about this whole thing when it comes to Chad—he understands as a young, single guy who has had his own share of problems, situations Kevin claims he had to bail Chad out of, so there won’t be much judgment on his part. Chad may or may not owe him; shit happens, and they’ve had a long friendship. Besides, I sort of know Chad—I’ve had to meet him, and even hung out with him a few times with Kevin, since they still keep in touch pretty heavily; he seems like a decent dude.
Chad even offered to lend us rent money for the next few months, but I was like, hell f-ing no. I feel like it would just enable Kevin, and we’d be in the same situation a few months down the road—Kevin, with no job, and no extra money to save up, while fighting to keep up with the rent. And, of course, one more debt added to our list—to Chad. Kevin suggested we move to a cheaper place so we wouldn’t have to take as much loan money from Chad, but again, hell no. Sorry—in L.A., and I’m sort of picky about where and how I live.
When I lived by myself, I had a comfy little place in a comfy little location for under eight hundred a month—no roommates, one bedroom, one bath.
I absolutely cannot imagine having to downgrade the square footage and/or location, and be stuck in some area I hate and/or in a tiny-ass place without the usual amenities with Kevin, the stench of his weed filling the whole room. No way, José. Yes, I know we’ll still be confined to a smaller space since we’re sharing with Chad now, but that compromise, along with moving two hours away from L.A., is nothing when you consider that Chad is not letting us pay a cent in rent. That deal isn’t on Craigslist, I can tell you that—at least, not without coming with some other terms, if you get my drift.
Anyway, with me still doing my promo gigs, Kevin and I should gather enough money to move back into a nice, respectable place in a few months or so, and if Kevin manages to finally get some work, in even less time.
I’m so glad for this chance to start over and get it together, and I don’t know how we’ll repay Chad for giving us this opportunity.
When we get to Chad’s place, he comes out to meet us, and I am struck dumb immediately. Chad has pants on, but he is completely shirtless, and his body is built like a god’s.
I stare, and I know I’m staring, but I can’t help it. I’ve never seen him without his shirt before, and while I knew he had a strong, fit body underneath his clothes as a former Army Ranger, I was not prepared to see the actual muscles lining his arms, his tight, wide chest and the rippling muscles of his stomach.
I’m fairly certain I’m about to drool when Chad suddenly winks at me, which Kevin doesn’t see as he is reaching into the car to start pulling stuff out.
Odd way to say hello, I think, but Chad’s sexy wink effectively breaks my trance, and I am able to function again.
“Don’t worry about the rest, Avery,” Chad says. “Let us guys handle it.”
“No, I’ll take some light stuff in,” I say stubbornly, and grab my backpack first.
We only planned to move in our clothes, shoes, and other basics like toiletries, a few books, and of course my hair products—I have thick, long curly hair—I can’t play around with not having those.
Then, once we have taken in the necessities, and confirm we need nothing else or can add nothing else to Chad’s place, the boys will take our other unnecessary stuff to storage. I’m pretty sure Chad isn’t missing a spatula or anything, so the boys will probably head off as soon as we get our suitcases in.
As I drop the backpack in our new bedroom, my face is still hot, and I am definitely still bothered by the sight of Chad’s upper torso and that amazingly evocative badass tattoo covering the sinews of his back that I got a load of. I feel like that shirtless image of him is going to haunt me, and I wonder how I’m supposed to function properly with Chad’s beautiful masculinity so near.
Don’t get me wrong, Kevin isn’t ugly or anything—obviously I was attracted to him enough to date him, and then stay with him; I plan to marry him, for Christ’s sake. But there’s one thing that’s usually not a conscious factor that certainly is now: Kevin in no way compares to Chad’s physicality.
Kevin is one inch shorter than me—not that that’s a big deal, I dated a guy in high school who was also shorter, although he happened to be stocky and athletic and muscular, so it wasn’t a real issue. Kevin, however, also happens to be rather slim—almost thin. I used to dance, and ran track in the somewhat distant past, so my body is more on the athletic side, myself—I have solid, toned legs, for example. But Kevin’s legs are thinner than mine and his arms are probably the same size as mine. Hell, we might even weigh the same, ultimately.
But Chad—good Lord. He is definitely taller than me—I never really logged how much so, but now I’m guessing six foot two—and he is, no doubt, wider than me. Those broad, golden shoulders, that expanse of chest, those arms, lightly dusted with hair, and bulging with muscle and blood vessels, sure do make me feel like a woman.
Even his green eyes looked different when he winked at me, like he had some juicy secret.
How the hell could I have missed how fine he was before?
I don’t know the last time I found myself needing to catch my breath like this, and having to avert my eyes to hide the look of appreciation in them.
I’m still hiding out, fanning myself.
I can’t remember when last I felt so exposed, so weakened in the face of such unapologetic maleness.
Maybe moving in with Chad wasn’t such a good idea after all.
II.
CHAD
Finally, moving day has arrived for my buddy, Kevin, and his girl—the delicious Avery. Waves of anticipation passed through me earlier today at the thought of having Avery around practically twenty-four seven, and being able to spend more time with her. I try not to get hard at the thought, but damn it, she has always had this effect on me.
The first time I met her I had to catch myself—my first thought was that a woman like her belonged on my arm, not Kevin’s.
How did Kevin bag a girl like this? I wondered every time I hung out with them, but had to keep my thoughts off my face.
Avery is tough and hardy, and I bet she used to be an athlete—her body has the tone and form of one. She has this crazy long curly hair I want to put my hand in and grab onto as she’s on her knees before me, sucking me off, hair that I want to see cascading down her lovely shoulders and waving behind her as she bounces on top of me, naked.
I want to see what those round globes underneath her shirt look like in the nude—are her nipples more brown or pink? You never know with redheads—or any girl, I guess.
She has a sprinkle of freckles around her nose that make her look cute, but her hazel eyes look anything but cute—they always seem to be burning with something. She is a smart girl, I learned quickly, so perhaps that’s it—her eyes are always alive in a way that make her look like she is always actively calculating and processing information, her intelligence showing all over her face. Her bow lips always seem to be red, eve
n when she’s not wearing lipstick, and I wonder if I can kiss them pale. Her butt cheeks look round and tight, and I often find myself imagining the lips of her pussy.
I don’t know if she knows I want her, and if she ever wondered, she probably brushed it off, not really wanting to examine further because, how awkward, right? She can’t exactly ask Kevin what he thought, and there’s no way she’d directly accuse me of anything; after all, I’ve kept my hands to myself, and I’ve been fairly slick about eyeing her.
I generally watch people carefully because I have to—it’s hard to turn off, having to assess and evaluate objects and people in situations where it’s a matter of life and death. I pay close attention to verbal and nonverbal communication, so even if Avery thought she saw something, she probably remembered how attentive I am in general.
I don’t think she ever caught me staring at her ass, or the wicked curve of her waistline, but if she did, she’d probably brush that off too. Men are men, right? Boys will be boys and stare at ass and boobs—count on it. I’ve even seen Kevin do it right in front of her when some good-looking chick passes by.
Kevin has no idea what he’s getting into serving Avery up to me like this, but hey—desperate times call for desperate measures, right?
Poor schmuck. He doesn’t have a job right now, but he will—he grew up here, and there are plenty of connections still around—including me. I’ll see if I can pull a string or two.
Either way, he’s going to have to leave the condo sometime, and leave Avery and me alone. Lots of times, if I can help it.
I don’t have shit to do, since I’m on ‘vacation,’ and there’s no way I’m going to let this opportunity slip by to get to know Avery more.
“Thanks again for letting me stay here, man. I owe you big time,” Kevin says as he pats me on the back, once we’re done with all the heavy lifting and the last item is inside.