Blow

by Fall, Lucy

  “Dare,” I find myself saying. After all, if he can take his pants off, surely I can do something semi-brave too, right? I don’t know if it’s just the beer talking, but it’s better than panic, so I’ll take it.

  He blinks, like he’s surprised I chose dare. Join the club, I think.

  He scrubs a hand across his jaw, which is flecked with tiny stubble. When he drops his hand, his eyes are boring into me with an intensity that almost makes the air lock in my lungs.

  “Are you sure you want dare?” he says.

  He’s offering me an out.

  He’s calling me chicken.

  Some stubborn part of me feels a flash of irritation. I might not have changed as much as he did over the last several years, but dammit, I can be bold too. I thrust my chin in the air.

  “Bring it,” I tell him coolly. What’s he really going to dare me to do anyway? This is Cole. He isn’t going to make me do something I’m uncomfortable with.

  The silence draws out for a moment before he utters, “I dare you to finish that kiss we almost had before I went to boot camp.”

  My mouth instantly dries. Oh holy shit, he said it. Ten years, and I thought I was the only person to remember that night. None of our correspondence even hinted about it, and now the words are hanging between us in the air, which seems to be growing thicker and warmer by the second.

  “What kiss?” I find myself uttering, then want to smack my own forehead. God, I sound like an idiot.

  He quirks that damn brow at me again. “Really? That’s how you’re going to go? Okay then.”

  I can hear the challenge in his voice. He doesn’t think I’ll do it. And under normal circumstances, he’s probably right. My heart hasn’t stopped slamming against my ribcage, and I’m afraid it might actually burst onto the floor between us.

  “Okay, why?” I toss back. No use pretending anymore that I’m ignorant to the almost-kiss. But I’m curious.

  He shrugs. “Why not? We’re just friends, right? So what does it matter?” The words are casual, like he’s talking about the weather.

  I find my attention drifting south again. This time I don’t stop it immediately. He’s wearing dark green boxers. I can see a narrow gap between his thigh and the leg of the boxers, and my core tightens at the thought of what lies in the darkness in there.

  Just friends. But I’m so not having friendly thoughts about Cole right now. It’s like I’ve slipped into an alternate universe, one where I’ve taken off my blinders and can see that my best friend is actually hotter than most GQ models.

  And he’s a military man, with all the confidence and swagger of someone who’s led men in battle.

  “I guess it doesn’t matter,” I find myself responding. I can do this. Whatever. It’s one kiss, right?

  I keep telling myself that as I shift to my knees and move in front of him. There’s something crackling between us, a tension that thickens the closer I get. Still, I ignore it as best as I can and repeat to myself that it’s not a big deal. Just a kiss between friends. It’s like kissing a brother or a cousin, really.

  I’ve known Cole for far too long to be feeling this odd attraction. It’ll probably be a shitty kiss, and we’ll both laugh about it as the tension dissolves. Then we can go back to normal, and when we’re eighty years old, we’ll both cackle on our rocking chairs as we remember that one spring night where I dared him to take his pants off and we kissed.

  No biggie.

  His eyes darken as I approach, and the fluttering that settles into my lower belly is definitely not friendly. No, that’s sexual anticipation, and the tightness of my skin won’t let me deny that.

  Our lips are mere inches apart, and then suddenly they’re touching. Cole doesn’t move a muscle at first, lets me dictate the action, but I can feel him coiled. His mouth opens and I find mine opening in response, and then his tongue slides along my upper lip.

  The electric zing from that simple touch sends bolts straight to my nipples and clit. I gasp in a breath, and Cole takes the opportunity to slant his mouth over mine.

  His hand darts out to slam my body against him. The heat of his skin scorches me through our shirts, and my nipples are tight buds, my breasts swollen, my pussy pounding. The light scent of his cologne is weaving around me, creating a spell.

  I’m intoxicated by this kiss.

  And Cole…holy shit, can he kiss. He drinks from my mouth like he’s owning me, and I cling to his shoulders, though my hands want to roam everywhere. Our bodies are locked tight, our breaths panting into each other’s mouths. He tastes of beer and his tongue touches mine, and every time he strokes inside my mouth, I have this urge to straddle his powerful thighs and grind against him.

  I don’t know how long we kiss. I stop caring, just lose myself in his taste, the feel of his firm fingers gripping my waist, keeping me in place. Cole groans and his other hand reaches up to cup the back of my head. I wrap my arms around his neck.

  I need to be closer.

  Every cell in my body pounds with intense need unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s overwhelming, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. The way his hot hands press my mouth against his, the brick wall of his chest, how I slide my aching body along his— Shit, what am I doing? A flash of guilt-tinged reason slams into my brain and I pull back from the kiss, gasping, trying to think.

  For a moment, Cole doesn’t do anything but stare at me. His mouth is slightly swollen, and I swear to God, it takes every ounce of will I have to move back to my side of the blanket, despite my confusion and discomfort and more than a healthy dollop of embarrassment.

  “Truth or dare?” I make myself say. There’s almost no tremble in my voice. Why, you’d think I didn’t just have my world turned upside down or anything. You’d think my body isn’t aching with intense sexual need. I’m actually wet, pulsing in my panties.

  Cole’s mouth curls in the corners, like he can see right through my ruse, how I’m faking this casual attitude, and his cocky smile tugs at something in my chest. I slug him in the shoulder, which actually sends a jab of pain into my fist—yowch, he really is muscly.

  He barks out a laugh. “Hurt yourself, kitten? Be careful how you throw those punches around.”

  I roll my eyes, grateful for the way the ice seems to have broken that weird sexual vibe that was crackling between us. I need a moment to regroup, to figure out what the hell just happened, where to go from here. After all, this is Cole, not some guy I met online or at a bar.

  He’s my best friend.

  “I need to pee,” I blurt out, then almost run into the decrepit bathroom. I flick the light switch and slam the door and stare into the mirror.

  My hair is mussed where his fingers dug into the back of my skull—oh shit, that felt so good and I am insane to even let myself relive the sensation—and my lips are swollen and my pupils are so big my irises are almost nonexistent.

  I look like I’ve been thoroughly fucked, yet it was just one stupid kiss.

  One stupid kiss with someone who I’m not supposed to have these kinds of thoughts about.

  He and I have known each other through puberty, through the tortures of school. All through boot camp and his deployment, we kept our friendship strong through text messages and email and random Skype calls at all hours of the day.

  He’s my rock, the single constant in my life, the man no others have compared to. The one who has been there for me, and I’ve been there for him.

  We’re not supposed to have this attraction toward each other. It could ruin everything. Imagine if we dated…broke up for some reason…and then the friendship I’ve relied on all of these years would be gone.

  Evaporating over nothing more than some out of control hormones.

  I grip the sink and draw in slow breaths. The bathroom light flickers above the mirror, like some kind of creepy prop in a horror film, but, strangely enough, I’m not feeling fear anymore. No, that emotion has been taken over by the rampant confusion and arousal inter
twined in my chest.

  I stare hard at my reflection. “Knock it off,” I tell myself in a quiet tone, so he doesn’t overhear me. This is probably just some weird, emotionally hyped reaction to being locked in the basement. I bet Freud would tell me I’ve transferred my fear into the only emotion guaranteed to distract me from my predicament—arousal. Not to mention all the work stress recently, plus my lack of dating, much less sex… It’s no wonder I reacted that way to a kiss.

  We’ll get through the rest of this night, and tomorrow, when I’m back in my own space, I can think it all through. Figure out how to handle it. Cole is a gentleman—I know he won’t make me embarrassed about how turned on I got.

  Even as I think that, I can remember the way his muscled shoulders bunched under my fingers. How his hands squeezed my flesh. His mouth opening, his tongue sliding along my lips. His warm breath pouring into mine.

  That wasn’t a passive kiss on his part. That wasn’t all just me.

  Cole felt something too.

  The realization sinks into my bones.

  Things have changed between us. Only question is, what’s going to happen now? Will we both pretend that moment didn’t happen? Will we talk about it? Am I really the world’s biggest chicken, because my first impulse is to stick my head in the sand and not think about it right now? Ugh.

  I draw another deep breath and exit the scariest bathroom ever. Cole’s over by the canned food shelf, his pants back on, and the relief that hits me is hard. Thank God.

  He turns, a can of mixed fruit in his hand, a casual smile on his face. “I found us a snack. I needed sugar.”

  I nod and give a bigger grin than the situation probably warrants. “Me too. Divvy that up.”

  He cracks the can open and splits the contents onto two small plates, then hands me one along with a fork. We resume our spot on the floor.

  “Truth,” he says after shoveling a slice of peach into his mouth.

  Oh. Right. The game. I swallow my bite and scramble to think of something to ask him that won’t bring us back to the topic of anything sexual. “Tell me…a little about your last tour.” He didn’t talk much about it, and I have to admit I’m curious about why he retired.

  Cole stiffens, and a frown flashes on his face. There’s no sign of arousal anymore, probably for the best, though I feel bad for causing him angst. I’m about to tell him never mind when he answers. “It wasn’t good. I don’t really like to think about it. There was an attack and we lost several troops. A few of them buddies of mine.” He looks down at his plate and pokes the fruit with his fork. His voice is even, not giving away any emotion, but I can sense it costs something for him to play it so cool. “After that, I was done. I kept thinking about my family mourning if I came home in a box, and I couldn’t do that to them. Not after Mom.” The last words were quiet, but the emotion came through then.

  Poor Cole. My heart squeezes, and I reach over and grip his hand. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “It’s fine.” He shrugs. “Over now.”

  I wait until his eyes connect with mine. “I’m glad you’re back,” I tell him. “I missed you so much. You have no idea.” The words are among the most true I’ve ever spoken. Not having Cole in my life has been worse than I even realized.

  But he’s back now. I’ll do everything I can to help him, to be there for him however he needs me.

  I put my plate down and shift onto my knees and hug him hard. It only takes a second for him to shed his own plate and wrap his arms around me.

  “I missed you too, Lauren,” he murmurs against my hair, and finally I can hear his feelings in his voice. The sincerity, the warmth I need so much right now. “I’m so glad to be home.”

  Cole

  My eyes are closed and Lauren’s in my arms, and she’s all I can think about. The soft press of her body right against me. I’m so hard I could hammer a nail with my dick. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted another person as badly as I want her right now.

  That kiss blew. Me. Away. It was so much more than I expected to happen when I dared her. I wondered if she’d give me a little peck and that would be it. I am thrilled I was wrong about that.

  I breathe in the scent of her thick hair. She used to get teased in school about it being so red. And all I wanted to do was touch it. All the damn time.

  It’s fucking difficult as hell to stop myself from kissing her again right now, but any idiot could see the panic she felt afterward. So I gave her a moment to collect herself, all the while fighting my urge to rip the bathroom door open and demand she stop running from me and this chemistry between us.

  This woman has been here for me, and I’ve been there for her, and why can’t she just see that what we have could be even better if we jump off the ledge together? If we take a risk and see what happens? No one knows her better than I do. No one could make her happier than I can. No man will ever love her with the depth and passion I feel.

  I rub a small strand of her hair between my finger and thumb. Lauren’s hand is making soothing circles on my back as she whispers sweet little words of comfort. My heart kicks in reaction to her simple affection. I love this woman so much, and it’s going to end me.

  I know Lauren felt something in that kiss. I could taste it. Smell it. Her breathing changed, and she was clinging to me, opening to me, and I wanted to stick my face between her thighs and lick that sweet pussy so badly until she creamed all over my face. Never has my control been more tested than it was then.

  Yes, she felt something, and it scared her…but that’s just because she never thought of the possibility of us, I’m sure. Her hard nipples and her breathy sighs and the way she kept rubbing against me tells me there’s something here. An attraction she can’t deny.

  How can I get her to face this without making her run for the hills? How honest should I be right now?

  I’ve been given a huge gift today, in this odd situation. Time. And I intend to make use of it. And first step, I need to make Lauren face that she wants me too. Not let her run and hide the way she usually does when faced with an uncomfortable situation. I know my friend far too well.

  “Do you know what I missed about you when I was overseas?” I say, shifting her until she’s sitting sideways on my lap.

  Her arms wrap around my shoulders and she cuddles into the crook of my neck. “What?” Her voice is soft, warm, and her body feels so right against mine.

  I rest one hand on the base of her spine and the other on top of her thigh, tugging her side as close to my chest as she can get. She tenses a bit, but I don’t move my hand, and give her time to adjust. I can feel the heat pouring off her skin; I swallow. “I miss the way you smelled on hot summer nights, like when we’d break into the neighborhood pool and go swimming.”

  She gives a soft chuckle. “I forgot about that. We got in so much trouble that one time we were busted.”

  “And I missed the sound of your voice, in person,” I continue. “How you laugh so hard you snort.”

  She shakes her head against my shoulder. “Oh God, my stupid laugh.” Her voice is tinged with embarrassment.

  I tilt her chin up with my fingers. I need to make sure she understands me. Her eyes fix on mine and we stare at each other. I stroke the curve of her chin and spread my other hand out wider on her back. “Your laugh is warm and real, and every time you chuckled at one of my jokes, I felt like I could do anything.”

  Her breath hitches and she draws her lower lip between her teeth.

  The blood’s roaring so hard in my veins I can hear it in my ears. I feel like I’m putting it on the line right now, but I can’t stop. “You always made me feel worthwhile, valued.” I inch closer to her face, her shallow breaths panting out against my lips. Her body is solid against mine, and the weight of her on my lap is comforting and arousing. I’m sure she can feel my dick stirring, but she doesn’t acknowledge it.

  “You always underestimated yourself,” she says, then swallows. Her hand absent
ly strokes the base of my skull, cascading shivers down my spine. “But you are an amazing person, and it made me sad you didn’t see it back then. I hope you do now.”

  “I also missed the way you chew on the ends of your hair when you get nervous,” I press on. I can’t fight the compulsion to spill everything out now. “How you never made fun of me even though my life was so fucking weird. And most of all, I missed the opportunity to touch you just once, kiss you just once, and there was no way I was going to fucking die out in the desert until I could do so.”

  Her chest rises and falls from her rapid breaths, and her mouth is parted. My thumb inches closer to her lower lip, and I can’t resist—I stroke the soft flesh there. My pulse is pounding in my throat, my skin is taut, my cock aching to get out of my pants and plunge deep inside her. I want her so badly I hurt.

  “Cole,” she whispers, and I can see emotions warring in her eyes. Despite her fear of this…thing happening between us, I can see her pupils dilating again. Her gaze darts down to my mouth.

  Then the tip of her tongue reaches out and brushes my thumb, a gesture so fast if I hadn’t been looking at her face I might have missed it. But it’s enough to slam my cock against my zipper.

  I move my thumb and plunge my mouth onto hers, drinking from her again, this time not waiting for her to set the pace. Suddenly it’s the most important thing ever for her to understand how much I want her.

  She shifts in my lap, her hip brushing against my dick, and I groan into her mouth. Both of her hands slide around to cup my neck. Her mouth is warm and wet and she opens for the stroke of my tongue. I sweep my thumb along her collarbone, my palm resting right above her breast, fingers itching to slide down and cup its weight. But the sane part of me keeps in check. I won’t touch her there until she shows me she wants me to.

  Though it might be torture.

  Her teeth bite down on my lower lip, and a rumbled groan erupts from my chest. Fuck yeah, this is the sexiest torture I’ve ever imagined. I spin her body until she’s straddling my thighs, her limbs wrapped around my waist, and pull our torsos flush against each other, our crotches separated only by a few layers of fabric. So fucking close, yes.