Keep Her

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Keep Her Page 4

by Faith Andrews


  “You too, B. Don’t stop.”

  There is was again. That cute little thing between only us. It made me tingle, and it had nothing to do with fucking her. Feeling connected, and nostalgic, and in complete ecstasy, I could go like this for hours—or at least I wanted to. But the way she was riding me, I would be exploding on that belly like I’d wanted in no time.

  She leaned down and started kissing me again. Her urgency matched the way our bodies connected so forcefully. I wanted to feel more of her, so I reached my arms around her back to unsnap her bra. When her tits were free, I kneaded her nipples between my fingers, tugging with the tiniest of pressure.

  “Oh,” she moaned, arching her back while she continued slamming over me. “So good. So, so good.”

  I leaned down and sucked one breast into my mouth, pinching the pearl of her nipple with my teeth. She moved faster and more frantically—it made her fucking wild. Surprise, after surprise, after surprise. This was the most refreshing, unexpected, and rewarding lay I’d ever had.

  “B, please tell me you’re close, too,” she panted in my ear. “I’m almost there and I want to make sure you come too.”

  For one of the first times I almost didn’t give a fuck about finishing. Watching her have an orgasm was like witnessing a miraculous spectacle. It was fucking beautiful. But I wanted her to experience the same satisfaction I had, knowing that she made me come undone. One or two more powerful thrusts inside her tight pussy would do the trick.

  “Turn around, Riles.” I helped her swivel her body so that her back faced my front. I gripped her waist, guiding her up and down. I thrust my hips upward, meeting each movement with my own forceful penetration. It was heaven.

  “Fuck, Beck! Oh my god,” she screamed as I felt her walls pulse and then tighten around me. It was all I needed to push me over the edge, as well.

  I lifted her from my lap so I didn’t let loose inside of her. We would have enough to think about after this… we didn’t need a pregnancy to further complicate things. I hated having to be on guard in this moment, but I guess that was the nature of cheating. Even though Marissa wasn’t technically my girlfriend anymore. I just couldn’t help feeling like a scumbag anyway.

  Before I had the chance to bask in my guilt, Riley turned around, still straddling me, and rested her head in the crook of my neck.

  She let out a sigh, and then I thought I felt tears. “I’m a horrible person. You have a girlfriend. What was I thinking?” Her shoulders started to shake—she was definitely crying. What a turn of events. This couldn’t be happening—but it was, and I understood why.

  “Please don’t cry,” I said, caressing her naked back and hugging her against me. “It’s not like that. I promise you, it’s not. Let me worry about… her.” I couldn’t even say her name. It would hurt Riley more if she heard it. And if I knew one thing, it was that I didn’t want Riley to hurt because of me. “Riles, please, babe. Don’t cry. Let’s not ruin this.”

  She sat up, looking into my eyes. “Ruin what? Are you telling me this wasn’t just some ridiculous one night stand, Beck? You have a girlfriend. You don’t want me.”

  In the midst of all the guilt, lust, tears, and questions, the craziest thing was that I did want her. I wanted to be with her again. I maybe even wanted to be with her on more than just a sexual level. “I don’t regret one second of tonight, babe, if that’s what you’re thinking. But it’s late, you’re still a little drunk, and we shouldn’t talk about this now. Let’s go to sleep and we’ll talk in the morning.”

  She perked up again. “Wait. You’re staying? Won’t she be looking for you?”

  If we lived together—like I’d asked her to—she’d be looking for me because she’d be home waiting for me. But that wasn’t the case.

  Pulling her closer to me with my hand at the nape of her neck, I whispered against her ear. “No, she won’t. Can you show me to your room now, sweet thing?”

  Beck’s phone ringing woke me up from a dead sleep. When I looked at the clock, I realized we’d slept for a pretty long time, considering all the times we wound up screwing around last night.

  That first time on the couch just wasn’t enough. We made our way up to my bedroom sometime past one a.m., after scarfing down half a pint of ice cream. After another glorious round of orgasms in my bedroom, we moved to the shower to clean up and indulge in some orally stimulating activities that had us wrinkled like prunes and the water running cold by the time we were moaning out each other’s names.

  There was no denying, after that first time, I felt like a home-wrecking whore. But Beck helped me believe it wasn’t me who was at fault. Yes, I’d slept with him knowing his situation, but there was obviously something wrong in his relationship with Marissa if he was willing to go through with it.

  I’d known Beck for a long time—as a cute child, through his gawky pre-teen years, his glorified high school quarterback days, and now his responsible adult days. He was a good person—not as reckless as my brother, taking random girls to bed all the time. Beck had morals and a conscience, so he had to be feeling like shit about now.

  “B, your phone’s ringing,” I said, nudging his shirtless body.

  He grumbled, pulling the covers over his head.

  Oh, no, don’t do that! I was admiring the view. I’d probably seen him shirtless millions of times, but this time—with him in my bed—it was so different. I’d always thought Beck was a good-looking guy, but suddenly I was more appreciative of his sexy dark features, his well-defined six pack, and those delicious, magical lips. God, I was swooning over Beck Matthews. What the hell was wrong with me?

  Before I could wipe the drool from my lips, Beck was out from under the blanket, grabbing me.

  “Come here,” he said, tossing me around the bed so that I was wrapped in his arms.

  Mmmm. I liked this, but I probably shouldn’t get used to it. He was Beck. He wasn’t available. He belonged to someone else. He was my brother’s best friend.

  “Stop thinking, Riles. That wheel is running marathons in your brain. I can actually hear it,” he joked with his ear resting on my head.

  “Yeah, well, for someone with such impeccable hearing, you didn’t hear your phone buzzing for the last half hour.”

  He shot up from our cozy cuddling position to grab his phone from the nightstand and check the display. “Shit!” His fingers flew through his hair and then he banged his head purposely against the headboard.

  “What?” I asked, like I didn’t already know the answer to my question.

  “She’s been calling since last night. She’s probably worried sick and—”

  “Fucking pissed. I know I’d be.” Reality was crashing in and I had to make like I didn’t care. Even if I felt like the green-eyed monster and the other woman, both rolled into one.

  He stood up from the bed, searching for his clothes.

  “Over there.” I pointed to the chair in the corner of the room. “And the rest is downstairs.”

  After he’d pulled on his boxers and T-shirt from last night, he came to sit next to me on the bed.

  I couldn’t help feeling so cheap at that moment. The room still smelled of hot sex and he was about to tell me all the things a cheater was supposed to say the morning after a night like ours. Like: please don’t tell anyone; it was just a mistake; I never thought it would go that far; it was the alcohol talking.

  What I didn’t expect was what he actually did say: “Riles. Last night was—” He paused to scratch his head and take a deep breath. “Last night one of the best nights of my life, and I’m not just talking about the sex, babe,” he winked and smiled, melting away the insecurities for a moment. “I don’t want to talk about her with you, but you should know Marissa and I are on a break.”

  And then the insecurities were back. I pulled away from him, immediately thinking I was some rebound or a form of revenge. He must have sensed my fears, because he inched closer, cupping my face in his hands.

  “I know what
you’re thinking and it’s not like that. We have a lot to think about, but right now,” he looked at his phone, shaking his head. “Right now, I have to deal with her. Can I call you later?”

  I reached up to hold his warm hand in place at my cheek. It was a comforting show of affection from him and I didn’t want it to end. “I’d love it if you’d call me later.”

  I could have said more, and maybe I should have. Maybe I should’ve let him off the hook and told him there was no way we could ever be anything other than two friends who had a little fun. I couldn’t see this playing out any other way, but in that moment, I really wanted to hold on to the possibility of more.

  “Fallon, answer your damn phone, you ass! Great news! My dry spell is officially O-V-E-R!”

  I’d tried calling him at least ten times, and it just kept ringing with no answer. This was the first voicemail, and he wasn’t the best at checking those. Fallon was notorious for having a bit too much fun on the weekends and going MIA for most of it.

  I really needed to talk to him. Who else was I going to tell about what happened with Beck? I couldn’t exactly keep everything I was feeling to myself. I might combust!

  There was only one other person who would hopefully understand. Tessa. But I had no intention of calling her and asking permission to come over for some girl time. She’d given me a key for emergencies. This was certainly an emergency.

  By the time I’d driven to her neighborhood and replayed my night with Beck over and over again in my head, I was starting to weigh all the repercussions. I was already in too deep, already feeling things I shouldn’t be feeling.

  I liked him. I liked the way we were together and the things he said to me. He didn’t have to say those things. He could have left well enough alone, pretended it was what it really was… a one night stand between two old friends.

  A mistake.

  But was it a mistake? Something that felt so good couldn’t be confused as a blunder in fate’s workings. Yes, I was a deep thinker and circling the crowded Brooklyn blocks for a damn spot, was giving me more time to think.

  When I finally made my way to Tessa’s front door, I took out my key, reminding myself that she gave it to me with the intent to use it, and put it in the lock.

  “Hello?” I bellowed as I walked in to the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee. “Tess? I really need to talk to you. You’re not gonna believe what I—” I was laughing as I said it, but all humor vanished when I walked into the kitchen. There at the table sat a glowing Tessa, feeding Luca his breakfast—that part was normal. But the not so normal part was my shirtless brother, nonchalantly standing at the sink with a cup of joe.

  “No. Fucking. Way.” My mouth dropped to the floor when I realized what was going on. He’d obviously spent the night. These two were screwing behind my back, even though I’d told them what a disaster that would wind up being.

  “Riley? How’d you get in? What the hell are you doing here?” Marcus remained frozen at the sink, looking like he’d been caught red-handed.

  Fucking red-handed, alright.

  My emotions were on such overload from my night with Beck and their blatant disregard for everything I’d tried to warn them about. I couldn’t help but be angry. “Me? What’re you doing here? And better yet, what the fuck is this all about?” I waved my arms all around, pointing fingers between the two of them. “Now you’re playing house? Well, how fucking adorable.” Marcus had no right pretending he could be what Tessa—and Luca—needed in a man. And I really never thought Tessa would fall victim to his seductive ways. “And you,” I said pointing to her. “I thought you knew better. I warned you about this. Shit, Tessa! How stupid could you be?”

  “Enough!” Marcus roared. “You have no right.”

  “Oh, the hell I don’t!” I did so have a right. She was my friend and I’d just gotten her back. Once he was done messing with her, I’d lose her again. Marcus wasn’t relationship material. This was just sex. And even though I felt guilty for ranting and raving at these two after pretty much doing the same thing with Beck, Beck was different than Marcus. I had hope. I’d seen it enough times to know that my brother was hopeless.

  “You think you can just fuck whoever you want and leave me to pick up all the pieces, don’t you? This won’t work, Marcus, and when you decide you’re done with her, like you did with all my other friends, she’ll be devastated and she won’t want to talk to me anymore. Again!”

  Marcus glared at me with fury and rage in his eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, and his breathing picked up so that his chest heaved. He was about to rip me a new one, but before he could open his mouth, Tessa was between us. “Okay, everyone calm down. Marcus, why don’t you let me talk to Riley? We can catch up again later.”

  He eyed me with pure hatred, his nostrils still flaring, but when Tessa walked over to him and stroked the bulging muscles in his tensing arm and whispered something to him, he visibly calmed down. “You’ll call me later,” he barked like a Neanderthal, like he had something to prove to me.

  I rolled my eyes, but didn’t look away. I had to witness this whole ridiculous exchange for myself.

  Tessa caressed his arm one more time and said, “Promise. Now, go cool off.”

  He bent down to kiss her—a long, lingering kiss right on the mouth—again, making a show of what he thought I needed to see. It meant nothing to me. It was all an act. He was trying to impress her. There was no depth—Marcus didn’t do depth.

  After he collected his belongings and walked out with a huff and the slam of a door, I sat down at the kitchen table next to a babbling Luca.

  Tessa was the first to speak. I guess one of us had to break the ice. “Hey,” she said with a small smile. I had to hand it to her—here I was barging in on her Saturday morning afterparty and she didn’t seem the slightest bit annoyed with me. I guess, unlike my brother, she understood I only wanted the best for her. I didn’t want to see her hurt again.

  “He’s bad news, Tessa.”

  With that, her expression changed from appreciative to irritated. “Drop it. Please? I understand where you’re coming from and I appreciate it with all my heart, but I like being with him.”

  Oh God, he’d gotten to her. “Ridiculous. I just can’t see how—”

  “Riley.” She inched closer, locking her eyes with mine. “Leave. It. Alone.” It was a stern warning and I knew better than to push my luck.

  I looked away from her and down to Luca, who instantly made me smile. But then Tessa reminded me of why I’d been here in the first place and my smile grew even wider. “So, wanna tell me what you barged in here ranting about before you started your tirade on me and Marcus? I gave you that key for emergencies. Is there something you need to tell me?”

  I found myself embarrassed by what I had to admit, yet I was giddy and couldn’t stop smiling, thinking about the way Beck had made me feel. But Tessa only knew him as Marcus’s friend—his not single friend. She would judge me for being with Beck, knowing he had a girlfriend.

  And what about me being the world’s biggest hypocrite? After the ass-chewing I’d just given her and Marcus—hadn’t I’d done the exact same thing in reverse? I was probably about to get a well-deserved ass-chewing of my own. Pushing away the guilt, I feigned ignorance and played the drunk card. “I—shit, I was so dumb.” My head dropped into my hands, trying to hide my embarrassment, and the big smile that just wouldn’t go away. “I slept with Beck last night.”

  “You what?”

  I’d never heard Tessa shriek that loud. In fact, I was pretty sure her own son hadn’t either, because at the sound of her shrills Luca was in tears.

  “Oh, Luca. Don’t cry, baby.” I stood up to take him out of his high chair, but Tessa clamped a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back down.

  “Oh, no. Not so fast. I’ve got him. You talk.”

  So, now I was supposed to feel guilty, right? Was I supposed to call Marissa and tell her I made a mistake and that I was sorry for acting
out my anger with a revenge fuck? Problem with that was—I didn’t feel one ounce of remorse. Not one.

  This was what she wanted. Marissa needed a break from me, and while we were on that break I should be able to do whatever and whomever I wanted. I didn’t need to explain myself to her anymore. She had no right texting and calling me like a nagging mother—she’d given up on us. Didn’t she have some studying to do or something?

  So, after I made my way across town to my apartment and took a quick shower to wash off the night before, I dialed Marissa’s number with pure ambivalence.

  “Hi,” she answered on the first ring.

  “Hi. Everything okay?” I didn’t want to care, but I did. You couldn’t just turn off your love for someone.

  “Yes. I tried calling you last night and when you didn’t answer I stopped by, but you never came home. I’m not judging or even asking for an answer to where you were, but—can I come over? I want to talk.” For the first time since she told me she needed a break, I could sense the urgency in her voice.

  Maybe she wanted to come over to apologize and admit that she was overreacting when she broke up with me. That was all fine and dandy, except for the fact I’d just spent a really incredible night with my best friend’s sister. It had me thinking things I wasn’t sure I should be thinking.

  I didn’t owe Riley anything after one time together, but by the same token, I promised I’d call her. I wasn’t going to hurt Riley Grayson. She was one of my oldest friends. She didn’t deserve to be treated as a rebound fuck because she wasn’t.

  In fact, I wondered exactly what these thoughts were stirring up in my brain. I found myself replaying our night together with a huge smile on my face. And it wasn’t just because of the smoking sex with a beautiful woman. Even in a drunken haze, we shared something that needed to be explored again. I wanted another shot with Riley.

  So, where did that leave me with Marissa?

  Regardless of my newfound interest in Riley, I gave in to Marissa’s request. “Sure, come over. I’m here.” I had no idea how this would play out, but I owed it to Marissa—and myself—after two years of being together.

 

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