Possessive Best Friend

by B. B. Hamel

  “Oh my god,” I moan. “I’ve been dreaming about this for so long.”

  “Look at you,” he croons. “You’re dripping wet, Lora. You’ve been touching yourself over the years, just thinking about what we could’ve been doing all this time, haven’t you?”

  “Dean,” I gasp as he sinks his fingers deep inside. He slides them back out and rolls his fingertips along my clit.

  “Just admit it,” he says. “You’ve been dreaming about me fucking you, Lora. You’ve wanted me since we were kids, and now you’re back in my life, and I’m not about to let you fucking go.”

  He kisses me again and I moan into that kiss. His fingers work my pussy and I roll my hips, loving the pleasure, the intense need that runs through me. I kiss him hard and he bites my lip before kissing my neck. He pushes me down against the bed and pins me there as he moves down my body. He kisses my stomach, my belly button, my inner thigh.

  “Dean,” I groan. “We shouldn’t. I mean, we’re in public. We can’t just…”

  He spreads me wide and licks me top to bottom.

  I moan and roll my hips. All protest dies on my lips as he licks me top to bottom. He sucks and works his tongue around my clit and I’m in heaven, absolutely in heaven.

  But it doesn’t last. He leans back and comes up, kissing me. I reach down to unbuckle his belt and just manage to get it off. He pulls my hair then takes off his jeans. I watch him and reach down, tugging off his boxer briefs. I take a sharp breath at the sight of his thick, long cock. He’s rock hard, practically pulsing with need. I take him in my hand and stroke his shaft as he grabs my hair and kisses me.

  I push him back down and take his tip in my mouth. He pushes me down, sliding his cock into my throat. I gag and he fucks my mouth. I suck him fast, stroking him with both hands, moaning as he reaches around to rub my pussy from behind. He sinks two fingers inside of me and fucks me as I suck his cock, my spit sliding down his shaft, sucking him faster, losing my mind.

  He groans and pulls my head back. He grabs me and turns me against him. I straddle his hips, his cock pressing against my dripping pussy, and all I have to do is arch my back.

  His shaft slides deep between my legs and I let out a loud, intense moan. He smothers that moan with a kiss.

  He fills me. God, he stretches me out and fills every inch of my pussy. I moan into his mouth as I slowly move my hips, riding his shaft up and down. I’m so slick and he’s so big and god, it’s heaven, it’s heaven, it’s what I always imagined it would be, but more.

  He pulls my hair, kisses me again, sinks deeper. He fucks me, thrusting inside. I ride him fast, the truck shaking, but I don’t care.

  There’s only his cock, the pleasure ripping through me.

  I ride him fast, bite his lip. He reaches his hands up my shirt, pulls it up, kisses my chest, my breasts. He leaves my shirt up and his eyes feast on my breasts, just barely covered by my black bra. I keep going, riding faster, my back arching, working, rolling up and down his thick cock, taking every inch.

  I moan his name. I can’t help it. “Oh, god, Dean,” I groan as he fucks me faster, rougher, thrusting up inside of me.

  Then he growls like he can’t take it anymore. He turns me, sliding out, and pushes me down on my hands and knees. I’m leaning over the side of the truck as he grabs my hips and slides himself inside of me.

  I throw back my head and gasp. He grabs my hair and fucks me, hard and without mercy. I take every inch of his massive cock, sliding in and out, making my body shake with pleasure.

  He pulls my hair and kisses me over my shoulder. His cock buries deep between my legs, pumping again and again, thrusting and taking me. I feel him reach around my hips to rub my clit and it sends ribbons of pure bliss through my skin. I can’t stop moaning, whispering his name, begging for more.

  He gives it to me. He gives me everything, big cock fucking me, big cock taking me. I push back and back, sweating now, groaning, rough and raw and needing everything.

  His fingers feel like heaven on my clit, his cock feels like bliss inside of me, and I know I’m close. I say his name, whisper for him to fuck me faster, and he gives it to me, ripping into my pussy over and over.

  I gasp, throw back my hair. I feel it come over me, feel it start between my legs and grow as he fucks me faster, fucks me like an animal. It’s heaven, yes, it’s better than heaven, it’s right here and now, and the orgasm comes over me, rips through me, makes me arch my back and sing his name and scream it loud and not care about anything but coming, god, yes, coming.

  He keeps going, doesn’t slow. He doesn’t hold back. He fucks me deep and rough and pulls my hair until he growls my name. He kisses me as he comes, spurting deep between my legs, filling me up to the brim.

  We collapse back into the bed of the truck. I laugh, unable to help myself, and he joins in. He pulls me against him and holds me like that for a while. We sit there listening to birds fly by overhead and briefly I wonder if my uncle will ever notice that we fucked in here.

  Probably not. But fuck him.

  “I’ve been waiting for that,” he says, his voice deep and soft.

  “Come on. Really?”

  “Really. For years. Longer than you think.” He’s quiet for a moment. “You don’t have any clue, do you?”

  “About what?” I look up into his face.

  It’s clouded, but happy. He kisses me instead of answering.

  We stay like that for a little longer but eventually I have to get up. “Come on,” I say. “Take me back. I have to give this thing to my uncle.”

  “Think he’ll notice that we fucked back here?”

  I laugh. “I thought that same thing.”

  “Well, you think he’s a dick, right? So who cares?”

  “Exactly what I thought.” I kiss him and hop down off the back. He follows, helps me into the cab, then climbs behind the wheel. We drive slowly back to the manor.

  “Oh, shit,” I say. “How will you get home?”

  “I’ll call work, have one of the guys come get me.”

  “I can’t just leave you here.”

  He shakes his head. “No, it’s better this way. I’ll walk a little bit then call. I don’t want them picking me up from here and telling my dad about it.”

  I frown a little. “Ashamed of me?”

  He smiles, leads across the space between us, and kisses me. “Not even a little bit. I just don’t need the fucking lecture.”

  “Good.”

  He parks and gets out. I call up to Archie and he opens the gate as I get into the driver’s side. I pull through slowly and watch as Dean waves then starts walking back toward town.

  I know there’s something odd with his father going on, but I got the sense that he didn’t want to talk about it, so I didn’t push. I don’t think anything can ruin my good mood though. I’m smiling the whole slow drive back up toward the house. I park the truck out front then walk up the steps. Archie meets me just inside, frowning down at the truck.

  “What is that monstrosity?” he asks.

  “That’s for Uncle Ron,” I say. “Is he in?”

  “I believe he’s in the dining room taking lunch.” Archie hesitates. “And by lunch, I mean gin.”

  I smile at him. “Perfect. Maybe he’s in a good mood.”

  “Lost at golf to your father today, so I doubt it.”

  “Poor man.” I hurry off to the dining room and head inside. I spot Uncle Ron sitting alone at a table in the far corner, smoking a cigar, drinking a glass of gin, and reading the Wall Street Journal. He’s dressed just like the day before in golf attire.

  “Hello, Uncle Ron,” I say, smiling at him.

  He looks up at me and frowns. “Oh, you,” he says. “Hello.”

  I beam at him. I’m not letting this sourpuss jerk ruin my good mood. I just had one of the best orgasms of my life in the back of this asshole’s truck, so things can’t get better.

  “I come bearing gifts.”

  “Do you?” He puffs
his cigar. “And what gift is that?”

  I hesitate. “The truck.”

  “Truck?” he frowns at me.

  “The F-150 Limited.”

  “Ah, yes, a good truck,” he says, nodding. “I’ve been wanting one. But what do you mean, you come bearing it?”

  I stare at him, my eyes wide. “The warehouse. The truck. We had this conversation yesterday?”

  He frowns for a long moment then groans. “Ah, yes, yes, yes, I remember now. I forgot all about that conversation.”

  I stare at him. He must have a terrible drinking problem and I didn’t even realize it. There’s no other way to explain it.

  “Would you like to see the truck?” I ask. “I have it just outside.”

  “Color?”

  “Burgundy.”

  “Perfect,” he says. “I’ll see the vehicle later. In fact, have Archie drive it around back and park it in the garage. I’ll see to it at my convenience.”

  “Okay, I can do that,” I say.

  He turns back to his paper, puffing his cigar. He sips his drink then realizes a moment later that I haven’t moved.

  “Yes?” he asks. “You were going to go move the truck?”

  “The warehouse,” I say. “You asked for the truck. I got you the truck.”

  He nods. “It’s a nice gesture. It truly is, and makes me think you really are a serious buyer. So I will sell to you.”

  I stare at him. “The truck wasn’t… the price?”

  He barks a laugh. “God, no, girl, are you insane? No, the warehouse will cost $2 million, just what I paid for, not a cent more or less. You are family after all, dear.”

  I laugh stupidly. “Two… million?”

  “Yes, Lora. Wipe that stupid look off your face, girl. It’s a warehouse, not a bloody truck. How much did you think it would cost?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it,” I admit.

  “Well, think next time,” he snaps. “Come up with the money. I know you can. When you do, I’ll sell.” He turns away and this time I go to leave. “And have Archie park the truck!”

  I nod and stumble away.

  I don’t know what I expected. Maybe a family discount. But $2 million… I can’t come up with that much. I have it, but that would take a huge chunk out of my trust, and I wouldn’t be able to draw on it again for… years, maybe. I’m not sure.

  Shit, shit, shit. Anger rolls over me, hot and white and clear. I can’t believe Uncle Ron is such a bastard.

  But I’m not giving up. There’s money here, I just have to figure out how to get it. I’m buying that warehouse no matter what.

  10

  Dean

  I get a call a few hours later after dropping Lora off and walking halfway back to the office. I’m tired but goddamn, am I happy, and nothing can bring me down. So when I see her name pop up, I answer instantly. “Hey,” I say. “How did it go?”

  “I want to see you.”

  I hesitate and clear my throat. “Yeah, sure. What time is it?”

  “After seven? I don’t know. Where are you right now?”

  “I’m at home.”

  “Oh, I want to see it. You have a house?”

  “I have a house,” I confirm. “Turns out, the housing market in Loftville is a buyer’s market.”

  “Text me your address. I’m coming over.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah, okay. Sure. It’s a mess right now, though.”

  “Clean up fast.”

  She hangs up and I’m left smiling. I shoot her a quick message then go into full-on panic mode, cleaning as much as I can.

  It’s not like I live in a dirty house. I keep my shit neat and orderly the best that I can, but still. I’m a bachelor and I’m not exactly on top of the straightening as much as I should be.

  I get changed and by the time I get the place in a halfway decent state, I hear a car pull into my driveway and a door shut. I hear a voice then someone knocks at my door. I feel strangely nervous, although I can’t be sure why. I walk to the door and there’s Lora, smiling up at me.

  “Hiya,” she says.

  “Hey.” I step aside. “Come on in.”

  “Here it is,” she says. I glance outside and spot a black sedan parked in the driveway, the driver still sitting there, reading a book with the interior lights on. I shut the door and follow her in. “Love what you did with it.”

  I shrug a little. “What can I say. I call it bachelor chic.”

  She laughs. My house is fairly small, nothing special, about the best I could afford. There’s a little living room that flows into a dining room with the little kitchen in the very back. I don’t have a whole lot in the way of decorations, but I do have a few decent houseplants that I’ve kept alive somehow.

  “I like it,” she says. “Seriously. I can’t believe you own a house. How old are we again?”

  “Old,” I say, grinning. “And it’s really not much. Two bedrooms, one bathroom. Barely 1,500 square feet. It’s more like a big apartment than a house.”

  She gives me a look. “Do you know what I own?”

  “No, tell me.” I lead her into the kitchen and take out a bottle of white. I open it up and pour two glasses.

  “I own nothing,” she says, taking a glass. She takes a big swig and I smile at her a little uncertainly. “Seriously, Dean. I own nothing.”

  “Come on. You’re rich. I know you have a ton of stuff.”

  “Stuff,” she says, making fun. “Sure I have stuff. I have clothes, jewelry, a couple laptops. That sort of stuff. But I don’t own anything, you know what I mean?”

  “I guess.” I lean against the counter and tilt my head at her. “What do you want, then?”

  “That fucking warehouse.” She leans against the counter next to me.

  “I take it negotiations didn’t go well.”

  “No, they didn’t.”

  “What happened?”

  She sighs. “Uncle Ron is a dick, that’s what.”

  “Right, that’s a given.”

  “He wants $2 million for it. The truck was just to get him to negotiate.”

  I whistle, eyes wide. “No shit?”

  “No shit,” she says. “And look, I won’t lie to you, I can probably pay for it from my trust. But that means I won’t be able to take out any money for a while, assuming my mother approves of a big up-front withdrawal, which she might not.”

  “So how do you plan on getting the money?”

  “I don’t.” She takes another long drink. “I don’t at all.”

  I let out a breath. I can see the anxiety all over her. I know she wanted this and wanted it badly. I hate that she’s let down right now and not getting what she wants.

  “Maybe I can help,” I say.

  “No offense, but I doubt you have that kind of money lying around.”

  “No, I don’t,” I say, and nudge against her. “And quit calling me poor.”

  “Sorry.” She sighs.

  “I can help though,” I say. “We can brainstorm some ideas. The money’s out there. We just need to find the right investors.”

  She frowns at me. “Investors?”

  “Sure. We get some people that might be willing to help out in exchange for a percentage of the profits. That sort of thing.”

  “Huh. Right. Investors.”

  “You really don’t know anything about this, do you?”

  “Art motherfucking history,” she says, gesturing with her wine. It sloshes and nearly spills, but she knocks the glass back and holds it out for another.

  I hesitate then fill her up. Shit, if she wants to get drunk to blow off some steam, I won’t stop her. I’m not about to take advantage, but I’ll help her out at least.

  “This is a setback,” I say. “It’s not the end.”

  “Feels like the end. Two million!”

  “I know. It’s a lot.”

  “Who the hell is going to invest in some indoor fun park in some little rundown town for that kind of cash?”
>
  “I don’t know,” I admit. “But we’ll think of some people. How much of that money can you come up with, do you think?”

  “Half,” she says. “And that’ll be rough, but manageable. It’ll leave me about seven months without any money from the fund. But I could survive if I kept living at the manor.”

  “How much money do you get paid every month?” I ask, incredulous. I could do the math but I choose not to.

  She grins at me. “A lot. Rich, remember?”

  “Yeah, well, not rich enough.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Half, and only if my mother is willing to approve it. I don’t have full control yet.”

  “Think she will?”

  She nods. “I think so. She seemed into the idea when we spoke to her, at least.”

  “Okay then. So we just need another million. That should be easy.”

  She groans and shakes her head. “It just isn’t worth it. Imagine we buy the warehouse, right? There’s two million gone. Then we’ll need to refurbish the space, install the games and stuff, hire staff, do all that. It’ll be forever before we ever see any profit.”

  “Hm,” I say, nodding. “True. There are things we can do to speed that up though. Corners we can cut.”

  “Like what?”

  “Go for as much used equipment as we can. Hire local teenagers for low pay at first. Rent out space we’re not using. That sort of thing.”

  She closes her eyes and sighs. “I really am out of my depths here.”

  “It’ll be okay.” I put a hand on her arm. “I’m going to help.”

  She smiles at me. “Thanks.”

  I hesitate. I want to kiss her, but something stops me. She takes a long drink, nearly chugs the whole glass, and sighs again.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” I say suddenly.

  “Why?” she asks

  “It’s nice out. And I want to show you something.”

  “But… the wine’s in here.”