Unfriended: A Geek and Stud Romance (Love in New Highland Book 1)

by Deana Farrady

  "Asher!" She was having a hard time of it, between giggles and wiggling to evade me—both my mouth and the hand I'd slid behind her back, lightly crushing her against me.

  Oh, fuck, yes. She tasted good. Sure, she was smacking me here and there, but her efforts were feeble compared to what I knew she was capable of.

  "You gonna knee me in the balls?" I said softly against her mouth.

  "You know it." But her body language told me I wasn't going to get my balls kicked quite yet.

  "Then maybe I'll check you out right here." I flicked open a few black buttons and slid my hand inside her coat, curling my fingers around her ribcage to bask in the heat coming through the thin camisole. I wasn't used to seeing her in clothing so bare. Even as a teenager, she'd gravitated toward tee shirts.

  No way she was wearing a bra with this thing. A happy thought.

  Her eyes bugged out, as if she couldn't believe I'd dared. "What are you actually doing?"

  "Checking you out." My thumb eased up along the softest of swells to a nipple. My intentions had been merely to brush it, test it out, maybe tease it through the cloth, but I didn't expect it to be killer-hard already, to stab my palm. I sucked in a breath.

  "Holy hell, Char, I know it's cold out here, but damn, you're…"

  "Asher, don't you even—"

  But I was already squeezing the bud between my thumb and forefinger.

  "Asher!"

  The sound of motor traffic nabbed my attention. I was standing here in the rain with street lights shining on me, embracing a woman in an entirely inappropriate way, considering, A) we were in public, and B) it was Charis, not some woman I was already fucking.

  But now I'd started, why stop? The nipple I'd captured was aroused, and not only from cold, since as soon as I started rolling and twisting, its owner started moaning.

  Now I was helpless to stop, because fuck me, Charis clearly liked tit play.

  The words were out before I thought twice: "You want me to go under your shirt and work you over?"

  "Work me what? Oh, geez, I can't believe this…" She started to push me away, but ended up arching into me, pushing her flesh even harder into my hand.

  That little push did me in, detonated something in my brain. Sloane's breast wasn't just responsive; it was wildly responsive. Whatever her voice said, her body wanted my touch.

  I backed us into the shadows, in the semi-privacy of a nook, never taking my hand out of her coat, an essentially moronic thing to do. Any passersby could easily see us if they turned their heads.

  Yet stopping didn't occur to me, not with Charis letting me virtually milk her with my fingers. I mean, she was mewling. Could she get any hotter?

  If I'd been thinking it through, I'd have determined that my friend is no quickie to snatch like the last piece of pie. She's the whole freaking pie.

  I wasn't thinking, though. My hands and cock were doing that for me. I licked my lips, like a raw boy in Stage One.

  It kept thundering through me, deep in my cells: This was her. Forbidden fruit. With a nipple that was tight and needy of loving. This was the girl I'd kill to have completely naked, to lick every inch of her body until she couldn't do anything except explode while I proved to her the puny age difference between us meant shit and she wasn't anything like one of my sisters…

  I raised up her shirt—

  "Oh shit, hold up, Asher, what are you doing?"

  Oh, shit, what?

  Oh, shit—she was right. What was I doing?

  This wasn't a kiss. This was foreplay.

  I let her go like she was on fire. Did a complete three-sixty on my heel while my lungs drank in the frigid air. "Oops," I gasped. "Fucking hell, Sloane, that was hot."

  She was hugging her waist. "What just happened?"

  "Nothing like what's about to happen." Determinedly, I strode back up to her, fisting my hands so they didn't do anything stupid. "We're going back to your place."

  "Oh, yeah?"

  "And when we get there, you know what we're gonna do?"

  "Um, take over the world?"

  I bent down to murmur in her ear. Otherwise I didn't touch her, because, cock out of control.

  "No, smartass. I will remove every stitch of clothing touching your skin. I will put you on your bed and I will look at you the way I've dreamed of looking at you."

  "Dreamed! Pff, you're on crack. C'mon, Ash, what's really going on? This can't be about my engagement any longer, since it's history. Is this to do with Aura, or what?"

  I stiffened, like she'd kicked me in the balls.

  "Fuck your suspicions!" I exploded. "You're unreal sometimes. What's really going on is that I have a hard-on for you that won't die. You were my first wet dream and again when you came to our Christmas that year I was sixteen and the only reason our friendship has been a hundred percent platonic is because you made it clear that the only way I could have you was to direct my cock elsewhere."

  Her jaw was hanging open. Good. It was time for a dose of reality.

  "So I did. I fucked half my high school and then I found Aura. You know how long my relationship with Aura would have lasted if you weren't around?"

  She didn't reply, not even a head jerk.

  "I have a pretty good idea it wouldn't have lasted more than a few months, tops. I did hope we'd be something more together, her and me, but it didn't happen. But I'd have given up on the whole affair a lot sooner if you weren't there. Because with you around, I'd better be involved with someone or I'd explode. I actually thought there was something wrong with me, can you believe that?"

  I saw her flinch at that.

  "Yeah, you treated me like a little brother and I felt like a libidinous jerk. So I went all in with Aura, trying, I don't know, trying to prove I could be a decent boyfriend. Ironic, because apparently I dicked her over good. Ultimately I was bad news for her and she's well rid of me."

  "You're not making sense. It makes no sense. You loved her."

  "Not enough. Truth is, Char…truth is I lied to myself about you. It's the biggest mistake I ever made, letting everyone tell me what to think about you. I always liked everything about you, every fucking thing, and all you'd have had to do was crook your finger one time and I'd have taken all of you. All. Of. You. Not friends with benefits, not sex…everything.

  "But you were off limits. And now…now it's all fucked, I'd want you if you were ten or twenty years older, not just four measly ones. Fuck Karl, I don't want you getting engaged to fucking anyone. I want you for myself. And I hope to God I can get you to want me like that, too. Because that is the only future I see for us."

  There. I'd said it.

  Damn, but it was terrifying, this spilling all my shit thing.

  "That's not true, Asher. You can't." She shook her head.

  Her disbelief slammed into me.

  Struck me dumb.

  I'd said all that to Char…and it meant nothing.

  Aura hadn't trusted me when I told her how much I wanted her, but Aura was an insecure mess. To have my best friend in the world not trust me when I laid myself out there and admitted my feelings…

  How could she? Even if she didn't reciprocate them, how could she just throw them back in my face like that?

  I swallowed, feeling my eyes water.

  "Don't believe it then. I'm lying. Why should I try to convince you? Just fucking forget the whole thing. We'll go back to hanging out and everything'll be hunky-dory. It was all a dream. It never happened."

  Her hand flew to her mouth. Remorse filled her expression. "Oh, my God, no. I didn't mean it like that. Asher, I do believe you. I…" Her face screwed up and her hand rubbed at her nose and forehead.

  Charis was tough, yet she looked on the verge of crying, and the only time I'd seen her cry from emotional causes was when her grandmother had died.

  "I just…you don't get it about me. You think you know me, but there's stuff you can't know, because we don't talk about it." She muttered something under her breath.


  "What? I didn't hear that."

  "I said I'm as bad as Aura in certain respects. I'm not…how did you put it the other day. Secure in my body. So whatever it is you imagined…doing with me…there's no point. You might as well forget it. Because I'll just screw you over, maybe as badly as she did."

  CHAPTER 18

  One Year Ago—The Anniversary

  Asher: Do you know what the worst thing ever is? Shopping.

  Charis: Word.

  Asher: All you do is wait. Wait for traffic. Wait in line. Waiting to wait.

  Charis: Preaching to the converted here, dude. Get to the point.

  Asher: I have to buy Aura an anniversary gift. Our two-year dating anniversary is coming up Monday.

  Charis: How about getting her some jewelry? She wears those great necklaces.

  Asher: Been there, done that. She's been hinting she wants more than jewelry.

  Charis: More than jewelry, okay. Uh…what's her favorite band? Does she need workout shoes? I know, hair bows…get her some big black velvet ones, it'll look so cool with her hair. Or hey, what about a gift card to one of her favorite stores?

  Asher: She wants a teddy.

  Charis: A teddy bear?

  Asher: No, a teddy.

  Charis. Oh! You mean a boob frame. That kind of teddy.

  Asher: What are you talking about?

  Charis: What the breasted of the world wear to show off their assets. You laugh, he of the perfect proportions, but you have no idea what it's like to have a whole class of undergarments sneer at you every time you shop for underwear.

  Asher: You should sneer right back.

  Charis: That's what I do. I give the rack the finger. I'm just saying…what am I saying? I forgot my train of thought. So she wants a teddy, what's the problem?

  Asher: I hate shopping. That's the problem.

  Charis: All right, pest. Give me a hundred bucks and I'll get it for you.

  Asher: What, you'd face the sneering teddies for me?

  Charis: For you, I will. But you have to promise not to say one word when you see it.

  Asher: What would I say? I'm innocent, I tell you, innocent.

  Charis: Huh. Aura has a figure like Raquel Welch, which means I could use one of the boob cups to support my whole ass. I swear, one lifted eyebrow, mister, and it gets stuffed up yours.

  Asher: Deal.

  Asher

  CHARIS WASN'T SECURE in her body?

  If she'd thrown a lit hand grenade at me, I couldn't have been more stunned.

  I screwed up then, by doing something completely and utterly insensitive.

  I laughed.

  That cloddish reaction had one positive result. She stopped looking like she was about to burst into tears. She glowered and shoved me hard with both hands, making me stumble and nearly trip over a passing dog.

  "Sorry, cool, it's cool!" I said to the man holding the leash.

  Then it was a matter of trailing Charis as she stomped off without looking back. Once out from under our nook, the rain lashed down on us.

  I didn't try to speak to her. I just followed meekly. I barely noticed the moving umbrellas we passed. Actually, the way I was feeling, the water and wind felt good. It was replenishing, made me feel alive. I felt like a kid who'd just been let in on a grownup secret.

  I'd just gained insight into what made Charis tick.

  When she reached her building, I wouldn't let her close me out, sticking my foot in the door. Yeah, it was an aggressive move, but my cause was righteous. I followed her down the hall.

  "This is not a good idea," she began as her apartment door shut behind us.

  "This is a perfect idea," I argued, and picked her up—hat, wet coat, boots, and all.

  Carrying a wakeful, soaking, squirming woman was about twenty pounds heavier than holding a limp, dry, drunken one. When I tossed her down on the bed, she lay there for a split second, looking astonished. Then she was bounding up, and I was coming down on her. Wet coat, boots, and all.

  "You're soaking my bed, Norrell."

  I tugged off her hat and smoothed her hair down. "Water has this amazing property. It's called evaporation. Let me explain. The water cycle begins in the atmosphere. When a hot front meets a cold—"

  "You blockhead, you're crushing me." Her laughter never failed to make me smile.

  "No, I'm not. You can breathe fine."

  She gave an exaggerated sigh.

  "You of all people," I said, growing serious, "can't have body issues."

  Immediately she tensed. "What the hell do you know about it? Anyone can have body issues. Your sister Ryanna has body issues. Winona has body issues, Mel has body issues, your Aunt Ruthie has them and so does your mom. Even Douglas does."

  "Doug?" That gave me pause.

  "His hair."

  "Premature balding is not body issues."

  "That's not the point!"

  "I'm not talking about my siblings. I'm talking about you. I mean sure, you joke about your—" my eyes flitted down briefly to her chest, "—self, but you never sound really serious, like you give a fuck."

  "Well it wasn't your business how I felt, was it?"

  "Anything about you is my business."

  I felt the jolt that gave her. I could see the wheels turning in her head. Then: "Listen, whippersnapper—"

  "No." I cut her short. "No treating me like a kid. Not even jokingly. This is serious, Char. What the hell do you think is wrong with your body?"

  She swallowed. Squirmed. I liked the squirming, but not what caused it. "You've said it yourself. I have the figure of a twelve-year-old boy."

  "You've said that, not me. I just haven't contradicted you."

  "Same difference."

  "Not the same." I shook my head. "And you don't have the figure of a twelve-year-old boy. I can guarantee you that is a false and unsupported statement."

  "It doesn't matter what you think. What's important is what I think and I think I have the body of a twelve-year-old—what? What did I say?"

  Because she'd felt my flinch.

  "Thanks a fucking lot for telling me it doesn't matter what I think. It's basically what Aura told me and you know what? I'm tired of women saying my opinion doesn't matter. I'm a fucking guy and I'm telling you I'm shaking like a leaf at the idea of lifting up that flimsy top you're wearing because you don't have the fucking body of a twelve-year-old boy!"

  Her jaw dropped. "Okay, you don't have to—ah, crapitude."

  I was shifting, sitting up on her and getting to work on her buttons. It took me no time at all to part her coat, to spread it out on the bed, forming a puffy scarlet backdrop for her body.

  When I saw what I'd revealed, I groaned.

  Her long, creamy arms, perfectly shaped shoulders, the mint colored top that did nothing to hide the bold projections of her nipples, the skin-tight jeans that molded to every subtle curve, including the sweet pad of her crotch…

  "What was I saying?" I said stupidly as blood rushed south.

  "You were making a point." For all her nonchalance, I saw her heels digging into the mattress, her fists clenching repeatedly by her side.

  Those impudent nipples. How could I have missed noticing them all these years? "Yeah, I was making a point," I said thickly. "Tell me honestly, Sloane, are your tits why you wear those bulky sweaters all the time?"

  Her mouth opened, then shut.

  I waited, noting with interest when the tits in question got harder, stretching the fabric and making my fingers twitch.

  "What, ah, what are you going on about? And stop using that word, unless you want to be kicked."

  "Feel free," I invited. "Since you ask, I'm going on about your nipples. They're…"

  "What?" she said quickly.

  "They're a cock-tease. They make me…" I wrenched my gaze away from those tempting points and met her eyes. "They'd make any guy itch to work them over."

  "What does that even mean?"

  My vision went smoky as I envisioned d
oing it. "You ever come from having your tits played with?"

  Her gasp gave me my answer.

  "Answer my question, Sloane."

  "Yes, okay?" she burst out. "I have big nipples and I wear tops that cover them, including heavy sweaters and multiple layers. I even have special padded compression bras to keep them under control. If I hadn't spilled pizza on my last clean one, I'd be wearing it now. Is that a crime?"

  "I'd say so. But that wasn't the question I was referring to."

  Now her hands were plucking her coat's plush red lining and she was eying me like I was the Big Bad Wolf.

  Good. She should be wary.

  I planted my hands to either side of her head and leaned over her. "I asked," I said in measured syllables, "have you ever had a dude tease and suck your nipples until your pussy had a nice little orgasm?"

  I knew she hadn't, but I was no longer seeking information. I was riding a high. Because Char was hot. Hotter than hot. Her tits were swollen to the max. Her face was beet red, even her cute little ears. And her legs were moving restlessly. Her signal array was blasting arousal.

  "In a minute," I rasped, "I'm going to raise that shirt to your neck. I'm going to check you out. Then I'm going to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs."

  Now her chest was jerking up and down, making her nipples bob, and I bit down another groan.

  I licked my lower lip. "I'll pull your panties down. Don't worry if you're shy. I'll leave them there at your knees. Then I'm going to check you out down below, Sloane. I'm going to look at all of you and tell you what I think of your body and settle this argument once and for all."

  "Asher." Her voice was low and rough. She was loving this dirty talk.

  I moved in closer, so my mouth was hovering right over hers, and smiled. If she wanted sweet filth, I'd give her a bucketload.

  "Do you fuck the same way you eat, Sloane? Do you scream when you come the first time? What about the second?"

  A tiny moan came from her lips. Her hips heaved up in a reflexive signal of female invitation. Her shy response made my cock rigid as iron.

  "This isn't funny," came her strained whisper.