Whiskey & Honey

by Andrea Johnston

  Laughing, I lead her into the house and flip the lights on.

  “What can I say? Men see a power tool and a wall must come down.”

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Piper is laughing as she walks away from me. As I expected, her first stop is the kitchen. I hear her sigh in relief as she confirms that the stained glass is safe.

  “Told you.”

  “You did, but I needed to check.”

  “Come on, you need to see the rest,” I say with a toss of my head toward the main part of the house.

  After a tour of the downstairs and showing Piper the plans for the upstairs master suite and additional two bedrooms, I grab the blanket and lay it out in front of the non-functioning fire place.

  Piper takes a seat on the blanket while I lay down on it. She’s still wearing my coat, but has twisted her skirt so that she’s sitting with her legs crossed in front of me. I watch as she fusses with her hair, closing her eyes and massaging her scalp. Thankfully I have enough sense to look away before she catches me.

  “I wish that fireplace worked, you have to be freezing since I have your coat.”

  “I’m fine. Sorry I’m not exactly prepared for entertaining. I actually called a chimney inspector last week. I figure if I’m going to be here working this winter I should get it functional. Obviously the one in the master will have to wait until the work begins up there.”

  “I can’t believe your master is going to have a fireplace. That’s a dream bedroom.”

  Piper tries to hide a yawn but fails.

  “We should go, you’re tired and it’s late.”

  “Just a few more minutes. This floor is hard on my butt though. I’m going to lay here.”

  Laying down on her side, she’s positioned so that we’re facing each other. I lift myself up on my elbow so I’m looking at her. This is a really bad idea.

  “Ben?”

  “Yeah, Piper?”

  “This friends thing is really hard.”

  “You’re telling me. It’s even more difficult with you running around as Princess Leia.”

  Smiling at my statement, Piper begins fiddling with the button on my shirt.

  “You don’t like my costume?” The innocence in her voice is deliberate. I roll my eyes at her.

  “Piper, I think we covered how much I like your costume at the bar. I don’t think I like that all those guys at Country Road were looking at you in it before I got there.”

  “I doubt anyone was paying attention to me. I look ridiculous,” she mumbles while still fiddling with my button. I still her hand, which causes her to look into my eyes.

  “A man would have to be dead to not pay attention to you regardless of what you’re wearing.”

  The smile I swear was made just for me takes over her face as I look into her eyes.

  “Ben?” My name is a question, barely audible above the thundering of my pulse in my ears.

  “Yeah, Princess?”

  “Will you kiss me?”

  “We agreed,” I say as we both start gradually moving closer to one another. My heart is beating out of my chest and my palms are sweating. I know we are about to make a choice we can’t take back. A choice I won’t want to take back.

  “I know, but right now I don’t care. I’m not thinking about consequences, choices, or promises.”

  That’s all the permission I need before I have her flat on her back and I’m positioned over her.

  “Tell me to stop,” I beg. Instead of doing as I ask, she tightens her grip on my shirt just above my waistband and gives a little tug.

  I don’t hesitate and give her what she asked for. The moment my lips touch hers, everything else slips away. The cold air, the hard floor, the broken agreements, and all the reasons we shouldn’t be doing this are gone. The only thing that matters is this woman in my arms and her incredible lips on mine.

  My kiss is gentle at first. I barely graze her lips with mine. I’m giving her another out. We can stop this. We can go back to the way things were. Instead, she relaxes more, slightly parting her thighs to make room for me. My arousal is evident and she seems to melt farther into the floor, taking me with her. This is the permission I need. I increase the pressure of my kiss, lightly licking her lower lip with the tip of my tongue as she gladly opens her mouth to me.

  Piper releases a slight purr from the back of her throat that has me wishing there was a mattress in this shell of a house. As I’m thinking this very thought, Piper’s hands find their way to my waistband, pulling my shirt from where it’s tucked in my jeans. Her hands touch my skin; like ice cubes to hot coals. It sends a shiver down my spine. Another purr from her has me claiming her with this kiss.

  Overwhelmed with a need to taste her skin, I begin my descent to her neck, which she turns slightly, granting me more access. This time it’s a noise from me that fills the room. A sound that is more growl than anything else.

  My hand has found its way to the opening of the jacket. I part the lapels and slowly move my hand up her side until it is just below her breast. I make my way back to her mouth as she arches her back enough that I know she is begging for some sort of relief.

  Giving her what she wants, I slowly move my hand so that my thumb finds her pebbled nipple. Her breaths increase as I make feather-like movements over her nipple. She’s lightly running her nails along my back in a pattern I don’t even bother to try and figure out and, instead, I sink a little more into her. Piper responds in kind by lifting her hips to me. My senses are overloaded and I feel like a teenage boy about to explode in my pants.

  This top that seemed far too tiny earlier suddenly seems as big of a barrier between us as a ten-foot wall. I’ve moved my lips from hers to the spot below her ear that, by her reaction, is the spot I should make note of.

  “Please, Ben,” she pants as she continues to run her hands up my back.

  “What, baby? Tell me. Tell me what you want,” I demand while never stopping my assault on her sweet spot.

  “Please touch me.”

  That statement gets my attention and I turn my gaze to her. Stilling my hand that remains on her breast, I see so many emotions in her eyes. Lust, passion, kindness, a little bit of fear, and trust.

  “Are you sure? Piper, if we stop now we can go back to how it’s been. If I touch you, I don’t think I can go back to friends. We have to break promises.”

  “I know. I’m sure. Please touch me.”

  She doesn’t have to ask me twice. While it’s only been months with Piper, it feels like I’ve waited a lifetime for this. The feelings I have for her are beyond attraction and physical. I know if we cross this line my heart will be hers. I can only pray hers will be mine.

  I gently tug her top down, exposing her breasts. “Perfect,” I whisper more to myself than her. Without a second thought, I lean in, taking her hard nipple into my mouth. Rolling my tongue over it, I am aware of the sounds coming from Piper and they only encourage me. With a slight nibble she lets out a whimper and I take that as a cue to turn my attention to her other breast.

  Still nestled between her legs, I begin rotating my hips slightly. A movement she returns by lifting her hips and rolling them just enough to cause friction. I am so consumed with all things Piper I can barely stand it. While still holding myself up with one arm, I pull my hand from her breast and lower it to where her skirt has ridden up. I gather the skirt up so that her thigh is exposed. My hand, calloused by the work I’ve been doing, grips her thigh and I feel her quiver as I let my hand make its way around to her perfect ass. I release an animalistic growl when I realize she’s wearing a thong.

  Still offering as much attention to her mouth as her neck and breast, my hand finds the band to her panties and it’s her turn to voice appreciation.

  “Oh God,” she whimpers.

  I take that as an invitation to move my hand around to the front of her panties, easing myself to the side for access.

  “Fuck, Piper. You are so wet.”

  “Please,” she
begs.

  My thumb finds its way beneath the silk of her panties and automatically begins a circular motion over her clit.

  “Let go, Piper.” My voice is hoarse and full of lust. I remove my lips from her skin as I take in the sight before me. With her head tilted back, her neck is exposed, begging for me to kiss it. I don’t. Instead, I watch as her still-closed eyes alternate between relaxation and squeezed so tight she looks to be in pain.

  Her breaths become more ragged and labored as I dip a finger between her folds. Pumping my finger in and out of her while simultaneously rubbing her clit with my thumb, I see the moment she approaches her climax. I want nothing more than to release myself from these jeans and sink into her. Then the realization of where we are hits me and I know I don’t want our first time to be on a dirty floor in a house filled with debris and power tools.

  “That’s it, Princess, let go. Let me see you come.”

  She does. I feel her spasm around my finger and let out a moan as she says my name. Dropping my forehead to her chest, I’m panting as her fingers come up to my head and tug at my hair, causing me to lift my eyes to hers.

  Time freezes as I look at her. Her eyes are alive and she’s looking at me like nothing else matters in this world. I pull my hand from between us so that I’m able to hold myself up over her. Never removing her hands from my hair she nudges me toward her. Instinctively I smile at her and drop a tender kiss to her lips.

  “You are always beautiful, Piper. But, watching you come is majestic.”

  With my lips still on hers she smiles and laughs.

  “Majestic? What am I, a unicorn?”

  To that I can’t help but laugh too.

  “Baby, you are most definitely my unicorn.”

  I drop a kiss to her nose and tug the coat shut as I lift myself off of her. Sitting up, she follows suit and suddenly her expression changes from euphoric to one of concern and perhaps slight embarrassment.

  “We should probably talk.”

  Her only response is a nod and a sigh.

  Talk. He wants to talk. Of course he does. As usual, he seems to have all the answers. Unicorn. I can’t be his unicorn. That is far too much pressure for this girl.

  Let us not forget the fact that I just acted like a complete whore. A cheaply dressed, panting, spread your legs at the first compliment kind of whore.

  This has been a ridiculous night from moment one. I should never have trusted Ashton to make my costume. When I said princess I meant Cinderella-level princess, not stripper.

  Fine, I’m Princess Leia. Whatever. Ashton took advantage of my distracted state the last few weeks and my options for tonight were to accept her costume or stay home. Staying home is all I’ve done lately and, quite frankly, I was getting sick of myself. I’ve read every ugly cry book I could get my hands on, watched The Notebook no less than twenty times, and had enough quality time with Ben & Jerry to declare my own intervention.

  I’ve relived that moonlit conversation with Ben at the lake over in my head so many times. He laid it all out for me and I still ran scared. The reality is, we could pursue this thing we have between us. We could tell Ashton and yeah, she’d probably freak at first but in the end she loves us both. I’m sure there would be some sort of ceremonial vow or declaration from both of us that we wouldn’t blame her if (when) we broke up, but she’d be okay with it.

  I wouldn’t. I know myself enough to admit I would likely screw something up and our, whatever this is, would end and I’d be outcast. Regardless of how close Ash and I are, Ben is her brother. Family trumps friend every single time.

  Other than a few encounters at school and the occasional dinner at his parents, Ben has been pretty scarce since the last weekend at the lake. Sure, his disappearance has ensured the awkwardness we seem to ooze every time we are together be non-existent. Only, it’s made me a little too emo for my liking.

  Tonight when we talked at the school festival I felt more relaxed than I have in weeks. I knew then that it was stupid to deny that I missed him. After he stepped up and handled Felicity I knew I needed to pull him back into our group. He’s my friend regardless of any attraction we have and I’ve missed him. Plus, he seems to bring a calm to the group, and if I have to listen to Ashton and Jameson insult each other one more time I may start looking for a new place to call home.

  That was how I found myself in this barely legal costume at Country Road. I knew Ben wouldn’t disappoint Ashton and blow off the night. It was my one chance to talk to him and clear the air. Only, the moment I saw him I wasn’t thinking about my friend and how he could run interference between Ashton and Jameson. No, I was thinking how I really have a thing for cowboys and how I was almost willing to beg Ashton for her blessing to jump her brother’s bones.

  I wasn’t even really drinking. I had one shot and had been nursing an actual soda I played off as a cocktail. Taylor was sympathetic to my plea for help passing off my drinks as alcoholic so that Ashton wouldn’t worry I wasn’t having fun. As the night went on and on I began to think Ben wasn’t going to show. Then he was there.

  Perhaps it was all of the romance I had been reading and watching, but I swear the room faded away and he was the only other person in the room. I was overcome with relief and happiness. Genuine unbridled happiness. Of course, the fact that he looked like a fantasy come to life didn’t hurt either.

  Then Jameson had to remind Ben that he missed out on hooking up with hot girls and that happiness morphed into hurt. The reality of only being friends with Ben became very clear. Friends are happy for their friends when they date and meet new people. If we’re friends, I will have to watch him with other women. Looking for a new home may still be in the cards.

  Of course Ben would be the good guy and offer me a ride home. And, because I’m a masochist, I had to let him hold my hand. Multiple times. I had to curl up next to him. I had to almost kiss him. I’m my own worst enemy and obviously I hate myself.

  Then I lost my damn mind and begged him to kiss me. Not just kiss me, but I practically asked him to ravish me right here on the dirty-ass floor of his home. Whore. It’s a wonder I haven’t gone up in flames. That may only be because this isn’t a church. I have no idea. Maybe I should go to church and ask for some sort of forgiveness.

  “Hey, you need to stop that.” I’m pulled from my self-loathing by Ben’s voice and his hand on my leg. Looking down at his hand, I can only think of where those fingers have just been and, I won’t lie, I’m about to ask him for a second go-round.

  Whore. Oh my God, I’m awful.

  Burying my face in my hands, I can only shake my head.

  “Come here,” he says, grabbing me and pulling me so that I’m nestled between his legs, my back leaning against his chest. His really hard and muscular chest. I let him wrap his arms around me and, without a second thought, I relax into him and release a sigh. And start crying.

  “Whoa, whoa there. What’s wrong?” He pulls me closer, if that’s even possible, and delivers a soft and gentle kiss to the side of my head near my temple.

  “Sorry, I just … it’s.” I have no words, just snot and tears.

  “Tell me. Piper, you can trust me, what’s wrong?”

  Why not? I’ve just thrown myself at him, had the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life, and am dressed like a trollop. What do I have to lose? Nothing. My pride is somewhere over there by the nail gun.

  “You must think I’m pathetic. I have been sending signals as mixed as a batch of cookie dough full of nuts and not only begged you to bring me here but then I threw myself at you. I’m so embarrassed.” I begin to pull away from him, but instead of letting me go, he turns me to face him.

  “Up here,” he says, patting his leg for me to climb on his lap. Hell to the no. I shake my head vigorously so he knows I really mean no.

  “Yes, Piper. Up.”

  I don’t even attempt to argue more and climb up on his lap so I’m facing him. Straddling him. This is so many different kinds of bad. But I�
��ll be damned if this doesn’t feel perfect.

  “First, I swear you are going to be the death of me with your constant need to put yourself down. I would like to know who is responsible for making you think that you are less than worth every single amazing thing this world has to offer you. I think that person and I need to have a serious conversation.”

  I don’t respond to his comments, I just listen and enjoy his arms around me. This is all going to end and I want to always remember this night and what we’ve shared.

  “Now that we have that out of the way, can we talk about how we tell Ashton about us? I think we need to have a plan since she can be a little unpredictable.”

  That has my attention. My eyes are wide and his smile is sweet and gentle.

  “What? Us? What us?”

  Chuckling, he reaches for my hair and I know he’s going to push it away from my face. I do it before he can and his hand stops mid-air. He seems a little bummed that I took the task from him.

  “Us. You and me. We should probably have the conversation sooner than later.”

  “There is no us, Ben.” I drop my chin to my chest and begin to pull my leg away so I’m no longer on his lap, but he stops me. Placing his hands, his very lovely hands, on my thighs, he begins lightly forming circles with his thumbs.

  “Yes there is, Piper. The only thing that kept me from making you mine completely was the fact that you are too good for that to happen here in my freezing-cold house on the damn floor.”

  No words. I have no words. I lift my chin to look at him. Staring at him speechlessly, he scoots a bit so I am able to remove myself from his lap. This gives Ben time to stand and offer his hand. I put my smaller hand in his and he tugs me up. Still at a loss for words, I look up at him and don’t argue when he kisses me. Gentle at first, he begins to deepen it as I lean in to him. Just as I’m about moan in delight he pulls back and rests is forehead to mine.

  “Us, Piper. I can’t go back. I told you that. I like you and want to see where this goes.”

  “I … I.” Stuttering, I am unable to complete a thought before he’s kissing me again. His kisses are gentle and full of promise. Not only does he render me unable to argue, but I want nothing more than to live off these kisses. A few more sweeps of his lips across mine, he pulls back to straighten the coat I’m still wearing.