Roomies with Benefits

by Amy Brent

  Sure, the sex was great. And sure, I cared about her. I cared about her a lot. But if I couldn’t trust her, there was no point in taking this thing—whatever it was—any further. If she and Andrew still had eyes for each other, I was going to break things off with her then and there.

  Screw them both. They could have each other if they were still keeping me in the dark.

  Chapter 22

  Allie

  Melissa met me at the mall while I was trying on a red lace dress. She dropped her purse on the table as she sank down into a chair in front of my fitting room, looked me up and down, and shook her head. “No,” she said. “Not that one. Too red.”

  “Too red?” I asked, planting a hand on my hip. “What does that even mean?”

  “Meh,” she shrugged, waving me away to try to get me to go back into the fitting room. “I don’t like it. It doesn’t scream ‘Steven Marx’s date,’ you know? And that’s really what you want, right?”

  “Right,” I said, starting to catch her drift. “This is why I invited you. I can never handle these kinds of things on my own. I’m useless.”

  “You’re not useless. You just don’t have as good of an eye for fashion as I do. That’s not your fault. Now go back in there and show me the next one.”

  I retreated back into the fitting room and shimmied out of the red dress. As I took a navy blue satin number off its hanger, Melissa called through the door to me. “So are you nervous about the party?”

  I shrugged like she could see me. “A little.”

  “Only a little?”

  “Okay, a lot. I’m super nervous. This will be the first time I’m in the same room with Steven and Andrew since Steven found out about the whole thing ten years ago. I can’t help but worry what it will be like when we’re all together again.”

  “Not going to lie to you, little sister. It’s probably going to be super weird,” Melissa said.

  “I know.” I pouted as I unlocked the door to reveal the blue dress.

  Melissa put her finger against her chin and feigned thoughtfulness as she inspected me in the dress. “This one is better,” she said. “Turn around.”

  I turned, modeling the dress for her. She nodded a couple of times, then shook her head, then nodded again. Eventually, she slapped her hands on her thighs and shook her head decisively. “Nope. You can do better. Try again.”

  “What’s wrong with this one?” I asked.

  “Satin. Not cute.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that right away?” I scowled.

  “It’s more fun this way.” She grinned.

  The third dress was a tight little black number with long sleeves. It had a plunging neckline, and the sleeves sat just off the shoulders. The hem ended above my knees and had small lace detailing along it. I opened the door and put both hands on my waist. “Okay, this one?”

  Melissa cocked her head to the side. “I can get on board with that one. Throw on a cute pair of black pumps, and you’re good to go.”

  The black pumps were easy to find. I went for a pair with an ankle strap for extra support, and by the time I was done, it was nearly four. Now feeling pressed for time, I hurried home and started getting ready.

  At seven o’clock, my buzzer rang. I was putting my earrings on as I hurried to the keypad. “Hello?” I called.

  “Miss Wright, your ride is here,” an unfamiliar male voice said.

  “I’ll be right down,” I said, frowning in confusion.

  After putting on my other earring, I peeled the price stickers off the bottoms of my shoes, stepped into them, and situated the ankle straps. I put on my red pea coat and snatched up my clutch from the kitchen counter. Then I rushed out the door, hurried down the steps, and made my way out to the street.

  There was a black limo parked at the curb. A man was standing at the back door. He dipped his head to me and opened the door, then gestured for me to get in.

  I got in, too surprised to ask any questions.

  The limo was lit with a strip of blue light on the ceiling. Steven was sitting at the opposite end. His arms were outstretched on either side of him, draped across the back of the bench seat. One leg was crossed over the other. His hair was slicked back, as per his new style, and he had sharpened the lines of his beard. A silver watch glistened on his wrist in contrast to his black on black suit. He looked like a man straight out of a Hollywood blockbuster.

  “Wow,” I said, unable to find the right words to express how impressed I was by the whole thing. “This is amazing. You look incredible.”

  “Thank you,” he said with a small smile. He leaned forward and plucked a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket. I hadn’t even noticed the limo had a bar. The cork had already been popped. Steven poured me a glass and handed it to me. “To a great evening,” he said, sipping from the glass he poured for himself.

  “A great evening,” I said, my stomach curling in on itself. I sure hoped it would be a good evening. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Who else would I invite?” he asked as the limo pulled out on to the street.

  Someone who hasn’t fucked your brother, I thought shamefully to myself. “I don’t know,” I giggled.

  The limo was warm. I unbuttoned my coat and laid it on the seat beside me.

  “You look so fucking hot in that dress.” Steven licked his lips, his eyes raking over me like I was a zebra and he was a lion.

  “Thank you. I had you in mind when I bought it.”

  “Damn,” he said, resting his champagne glass back in its holder. “I would love to fuck you right here. Would you like that? On your knees on the leather?”

  I licked my lips. “Yes,” I said. “Come here. Come do it.”

  Steven unbuttoned his suit jacket. My panties grew immediately wet. I grabbed the hem of my dress and started pulling it up.

  Then his phone rang. He groaned and pulled it out of his pocket. “Shit, I have to get this,” he said. “Work.”

  “That’s fine,” I said, still working my dress up over my hips. Steven watched me as he answered the call. I spread my legs, showing him my lacy black panties, and pulled them to the side.

  He watched, transfixed, as he spoke huskily into his phone.

  I sat like that for ten minutes before I closed my legs and pulled my dress back down. Steven mouthed that he was sorry several times. I understood. Work had to come first—especially with where things were for him business wise. He had bigger priorities than fucking me in the back seat of a limo.

  Which was unfortunate, because I was horny as hell and now had to endure the cocktail party with a soaking wet pussy.

  Steven hung up the phone when we were around the corner from his parents’ house. “I’m sorry,” he said. “There’s always the drive home. It gives us something to look forward to.”

  I smiled as the limo parked. “Definitely.”

  The party was as I remembered it being. The house was an old Victorian style home with three living rooms and a massive dining room. The hall was set up to cater to the night's event, decorated with candelabras filled with burning white pillar candles and set with silver platters of appetizers and desserts. Steven’s mother had hired caterers who spent their time wandering among the guests with trays of wine, champagne, and the cocktail of the evening, which was a pink bubbly concoction.

  Steven’s mother pulled me in for a hug when she saw me. I squeezed her back, and we pulled apart smiling at each other.

  “It’s so nice to see you, Mrs. Marx,” I said. “I’m so happy I could come tonight.”

  “Oh, likewise sweetheart. You look stunning, as always. And Steven,” she said, looking her son up and down, “handsome as ever.” They hugged, and she patted his cheek the same way she used to when he was seventeen.

  Steven gave me a crooked look, and I laughed. Then he offered me his arm, and the two of us began making our rounds throughout the party.

  When we arrived in the dining room, my stomach leaped into my throat. Andrew was ther
e, in the corner, chatting with a tall, slender blonde woman with red lips. He spotted us and waved, then excused himself from his conversation. My heart fluttered in my chest at his approach.

  When he was in front of us, he slapped Steven on the shoulder. “I’m happy to see you,” he said. “And even happier to see the company you’ve brought with you. I’m glad you are both on speaking terms again.”

  Steven shrugged and glanced at me. “Three months was a long time not to talk to my best friend.”

  I smiled and tightened my grip on his forearm. “It was the worst. How are you, Andrew? It’s been a while.”

  “Indeed, it has,” he said with a nod. His hair was lighter than Steven’s and much unrulier. Tonight, he had tamed it with a lot of product. It stood tall on his head, making him appear to be the taller brother—which I knew he was not. Steven had always been taller. Andrew was dressed in a black suit with a gray shirt underneath. His tie was thin and ironed. He looked good, as usual, but he paled in comparison to his younger brother.

  A server went by us and Andrew plucked a glass of red wine from the tray. “Things have been good. Keeping busy with work, and what not. What about the two of you? How are things going with the app production, Steven?”

  I listened tentatively while the Marx brothers caught up. I wondered how long it had been since they had spoken. Maybe Steven had kept his word and shunned Andrew for as long as he had avoided me. This made me feel guilty. I felt like I had driven a wedge between them.

  Nothing seemed to be bothering either of them, though. Steven chatted happily about his work, and Andrew asked him dozens of questions. They laughed and joked like they always used to, and even made plans to go out for drinks the following week to catch up without the constant interruption of people milling around the party hoping to get a word in with the Marx brothers.

  Andrew and I were the same as we always had been. Conversation was easy. There was no flirting. There was no tension. I hoped Steven was able to see how normal things were between us. There had never been anything there in the first place.

  By chatting with Andrew tonight, I hoped I was able to prove to Steven that he was the one I cared about. He had always been the one.

  Chapter 23

  Steven

  I held Allie’s coat out for her at the end of the evening and helped her slide into it. I stood beside her as she buttoned it up, then the two of us hugged my mother and father and thanked them for having us. Andrew was there with a glass of wine in one hand. He held out his other hand for me to shake.

  “I’ll call you later, and we’ll figure out when to meet next week,” Andrew said.

  “Sounds good. Talk soon.”

  Andrew then turned to Allie. She stepped forward and gave him a hug, as per their usual farewells. It wasn’t flirty. It wasn’t inappropriate. In fact, it was the exact same way I hugged Melissa whenever I saw her.

  When the front door closed behind us, I wrapped one arm around Allie’s waist. We made our way down the path to the limo which was waiting for us. The driver asked us how our evening went when he opened the back door for us. Allie told him it was wonderful and thanked him, and then we both slid inside.

  Allie made her way up the bench seat on the side and kicked off her heels. She crossed one leg over her knee and began massaging her foot. “I always forget how much I hate wearing heels,” she muttered. “Especially on nights where you barely sit down. It’s a torture.”

  I laughed and shook my head at her. “Then stop wearing them.”

  “But they look so good,” she whined.

  “You look good in or out of heels,” I said. “And torture isn’t high heels. Torture is being around you when you look so damn fine and not being able to touch you how I want to.”

  Allie shot me a devious look and put her foot back down. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, it is,” I said, looking to rekindle the beginnings of the romp we almost had in the limo on the way to the party.

  I needed the distraction. Although I was feeling good about how Allie and Andrew interacted at the party, my mind was still whispering about being betrayed. Getting Allie’s skirt up and playing with her sweet little pussy would be enough to put those thoughts to bed. If not permanently, at least for the rest of the night.

  “How do you want to touch me?” Allie asked.

  I looked her over from head to toe. “Can I show you?”

  “Please,” she whispered.

  Her soft voice was an invitation. I inched closer to her on the seat. She remained where she was. I rested one hand on her knee and then began inching it slowly upward, under the hem of her dress, and higher until my fingertips grazed those black lace panties that had made my mind spin when I saw them earlier. I pushed them aside the way she had on the drive over.

  She was so wet.

  “Have you been thinking about this all night?” I whispered in her ear.

  She nodded and swallowed.

  I chuckled and nibbled her earlobe. I kissed her neck and her jaw while running my fingers up and down the length of her slit. She was tense beneath my touch. She had been waiting for this for hours. So had I.

  I didn’t want to wait any longer. Her soft folds beneath my fingertips were too tempting. I pushed two fingers into her. She was swollen and ready, and she was tight around me. I fingered her hard, my knuckles hitting the insides of her thighs.

  She rested her head back on the seat and moaned softly. I covered her mouth with my other hand. The driver didn’t need to hear her. Those sounds were reserved for me and me only. I fingered her harder until her hips were lifting off the seat. It was as if she was encouraging me to somehow get deeper into her tight little pussy.

  I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried. So I switched tactics and curled my fingers inside her, rubbing the patch I knew was her G-spot. Her muffled cry beneath my palm promised that an orgasm wasn’t far away.

  She bucked beneath me, jerking away from my fingers as she came. I followed her retreat, keeping my fingertips pressed up against her sweet spot and letting her writhe in my grasp. Her moan became a higher pitched wail. I stuck a finger between her lips and teeth and pressed down on her tongue. She fell silent and sucked my thumb, her eyes falling closed as I worked her over harder. I wanted her to come again. It wound me up when I felt the tightness around my fingers. I wanted to spill her juices on the seat.

  I moved my fingers harder, pulling them in and out but aiming for that same spot. Allie twisted, and her teeth bit down on the base of my thumb. I didn’t care. I fucked her harder. She grabbed my shirt.

  And then I felt it. Her pussy gripped me fiercely as it prepared to release. Right when I knew she was ready I pulled my fingers out of her and rubbed her clit vigorously. She squirted her juices on the seat and the floor.

  When she was done, I tapped her clit lightly. She flinched away from me, incredibly sensitive, and I began working to undo my belt. I yanked my pants half-way down until they were around my knees and slid off the seat. I knelt before her. My cock was at the perfect height with her pussy.

  I pushed her legs apart. She was breathing heavily. She seemed surprised by how aggressive I had been. Surprised, but pleased. Her eyes were hungry as she watched me angle my cock down. I pressed it up against her, rubbing it up and down on her clit. She was so plump and pink. She inched herself closer to me. She wanted me. I could feel her desperation. She wanted me to fuck her.

  I leaned into her, my cock pushing her open until the tops of my thighs were pressed against her ass. Her moans were more ragged now. She was watching me move inside her. Her hands fell to her sides, and her fingers gripped my thighs. I could feel her nails against my skin.

  I pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip of my dick in her. Her hands on my thighs tried to pull me closer. I made her wait. I braced myself with my hands on the back of the seat above her. She looked beautiful beneath me. Her hair was up but falling loose. Her cheeks were flushed, and the dark eyeliner on her eyes made her look
like an exotic princess. Although the lipstick had long since faded away, her lips were still tinted a darker shade of pink than usual.

  “Steven,” she cooed, reaching up and running a hand over my chest. Her fingers slipped between the buttons of my shirt, and she ran her nails over my skin. “I want your cum inside me.”

  I eased my cock back into her. I pushed until I couldn’t go any further. Her hand slipped out of my shirt, and she clutched the edges of the seat. Her knuckles turned white. I began thrusting, deep and fast.

  I covered her mouth again. Both of her hands wrapped around my wrist. She cried out beneath me, and I kept going. She was closing in around me again. Fuck her pussy was tight. I loved it. I needed it. It consumed me.

  I drove myself into her one last time, and then I exploded, filling her up more than I ever had before. I pulled out and watched in fascination as my cum dripped out of her and onto the seat.

  She stayed where she was, breathless and heavy-eyed, watching me as I grabbed a napkin from the bar to clean myself up before pulling my pants back up.

  I stayed on my knees between her legs, watching as she licked her finger and lowered her hand to her pussy. She touched herself delicately and pulled away. Strands of our cum came away on her fingertips. She smiled at me, pleased with how full she was. Then, she slid a finger inside herself.