by V. Theia
“What do you want?” A hand grasped my chin, forcing me to look up into devastating blue even when I didn’t want to. He always saw too much of me.
“I want to go home.” My voice flat.
“You’re fucking lying to me.”
Everything in me bristled like he’d chafed me with a cheese grater and left my skin raw, I knocked his hand away, he didn’t get to touch me.
Not now. “Fuck you, Noah.”
“At least that’s honest.”
“Yeah? Here’s another. Fuck you. Now let me go.”
“Never. Fucking never, kitten, talk to me.”
When I wouldn’t, he attacked.
His tongue declared warfare on every cell in my body.
I surrendered, allowing him to slide a hand between my thighs to deliver the most body-shocking orgasm in record time. I’m left feeling not like myself and altogether too good as I come down, shuddering against him, my face pressed into the bed.
My eyes fluttered closed on a sigh when he rolled me over as easily as a new-born baby, sweeping kisses on my forehead, my cheeks and under my eyes.
Do anything—anything—to me, I wanted to cry.
The pit of frantic want in my stomach bloomed to fire. I couldn’t have faith in my being that woman who forgets every stab of hurt for a good dicking.
But here I am, opening my legs for Noah as he positioned into place, as he grunted against my lips, mine opened and accepted his warm tongue, his flavor exploded in my mouth and I died a little bit more.
The desire never quit.
It’s not long before Noah reached between us, his mouth still eating at mine, tongues danced to the tune of our making, and he dragged the tip of his cock through my wetness. Attacked with a shudder, I lifted and rippled to accept him.
His touch was everywhere all at once, overtaking my senses, he ran it up the valley between my breasts, across each nipple in turn, the roughness of his palm caused me to break out in pre-orgasmic tremors.
His touch was fire.
When he caressed my belly, I sucked in a breath, reminded what we have in there and it almost ugly-dropped me back to earth with a crash.
We can’t do this. We shouldn’t do this. Not when there’s so much we have to say—
“I’m going to fuck you one more time, kitten,” I looked at him through glassy eyes. My blinks were slow motion. His voice sounded otherworldly or I’m just that punch drunk on sex that all I did was nod my reply, fervent for more of his strokes. He palmed my belly again, and sort of pets me slowly, lovingly. “And then you’ll tell me every day of what I’ve missed about you and my baby in here.”
My lungs stopped working.
Noah didn’t take it into consideration that he’s caused my heart to stop beating when he began sliding into me.
Slow at first, allowing my body to stretch around him.
Even his moaned “oh, fuck.” Didn’t really register.
He knows? He knows I’m pregnant?
Shit, shit, shit, my mind was a sudden hot mess.
I floated somewhere on the ceiling sure this was all just a big fucking dream where Noah really wanted me, and I wasn’t emotionally muddled.
I just bet I’m laid puking on the bathroom floor just like last night and—
He shoved in hard, bringing my face up to look at him and that’s how Noah fucked me. Intense. Focused, making sure I watched the whole thing.
His grunts fell over my lips as we kissed.
It sure wasn’t slow sex.
It’s more of the wild fucking we did on the living room sofa
He railed me, and I took it and gave screams back.
He seemed charged with my cries, pushing in deeper, harder.
There’s no other choice.
With Noah I will always take it.
As senseless as it might make me after what I know. I still took it.
Because love isn’t logical as much as I wish it were. As much as I wish I could use my brain for good and make myself stop loving the unattainable.
Love doesn’t work that way.
It makes you dumb and pitiful for the risk to be loved and valued. And the thing that makes great sex so dangerous is; I felt loved and cared for and beautiful while he moaned my name.
When he moved in a certain angle to reach his pleasure I felt adored.
Noah repeated my name over and over and over, a hot, starved sounding mantra, kissing down my chest, he took as much of my breast into his mouth that would fit and sucked hard. And I held the back of his head and watched the erotic feast.
“I never meant to hurt you, kitten,” he finally groaned his guilt into my throat minutes later. The words barely audible.
My body constricted.
I shuddered, close my tear-filled eyes.
Heart hurting.
What’s there to say, other than cradle the back of his skull, holding my friend close to me, my own emotions ripping me up and I acknowledged, “I know you didn’t…”
FIVE
I was once in a car accident.
Oh, nothing serious, more shook up than anything else. I was fresh out of driving school, cocky with my shiny new licence and my brand new-to-me cherry GMC Terrain small SUV when I missed a stop sign because I was busy changing the radio station (thank you, Josh Turner) when another car came out of nowhere.
Luckily, we were both only doing the bare minimum speed and no real damage was done save for some body work bumps, but for months afterwards I had god awful anxiety every time I got behind the wheel. After daddy ripped me a new one, told me I didn't deserve to be on the road if I was going to endanger another person and how would I feel if that was someone else putting momma in danger, he really laid the guilt into me, scared me stupid, but to this day I still remembered that same dread, the gut clawing anxiety of what happened and just how disappointed daddy was in me for being reckless.
How one stupid second can change your entire life.
A lot can change in a second, Sena. He'd told me.
And he was so right.
I'd blinked and the relationship I’d had with Noah changed because of what I’d witnessed between him and Tom, and now I’m left with my guts in knots and a head full of unanswered questions, my heart bruised, and it had only been a split second when I'd taken my eyes off the road.
I never meant to hurt you, kitten.
But you did.
Oh, but you did.
“That night in your bed … why did you really touch me?” My voice cut through the silence we’ve been comfortably lying in for maybe thirty minutes. After Noah rolled off the bed and came back with a cloth to clean me, much to my protests, he then returned a few minutes later once he’d closed the house down, carrying a glass of ginger ale from the fridge for me before he slipped back into bed.
There we lay saying nothing.
Not touching, just sharing the same space.
His eyes are on me through the darkness.
A brand of penetrating blue.
It’s a scalding caress. I longed for him to reach out and touch me, take my hand, something.
Neither of us did.
It’s the infamous night in question that was the domino effect all these weeks later.
“I can help you out with that.”
“With what?”
“With your needy little clutching body.”
“I think you should let me, Sena. I think you want me to.”
“Are you going to let me in these shorts? To find out what all the fuss is about, to feel a too tight wet pussy with my fingers, Sena?”
The suggestive memory was both one of the best nights of my life and equally fucking stupid as far as I can tell. On any given day the last two weeks I’ve bounced back and forth between bad idea, shitty idea and both don’t make me feel good. We should never have crossed the line. Now it’s unclear.
I turned my head on the white pillows to look at him. Far from seeing a hint of guilt, shame or regret as I’d expected at
the mention of that night, Noah was relaxed, not surprising, he fucked me good and hard, exerted himself like an athlete, but there was something more in his eyes.
Tenderness.
He cared for me, I knew this.
We’ve been friends for so long sometimes I forget how close we are. I used to say he was like my left arm and being right handed I would miss him if I lost it because opening Ben and Jerry’s one handed is difficult.
He would laugh and knock a fingertip to the end of my nose in that silly Sena way that would always make me happy.
If not for the huge complication that crash landed in both of our lives I might have chalked up our few weeks together as just a sexual itch and moved back to being besties.
We were amazing friends.
Me and my stupid crush.
The fucking amazing sex.
His perfect, addicting dick.
A lot of factors weighed in to show how much of a mistake we’ve made.
Really, it’s not just my imagination, our sex was —is as of thirty minutes ago— amazing. No one ever made me feel what Noah does, but for friendship, the connection of keeping him in my life no matter who his life partner may be, even if I’m internally spitting on Tom’s Prada shoes, I would have reconciled myself to that role again.
Lovers move on, it’s no big deal, shouldn’t be as big of a deal as I’m making it.
But as the saying goes; we’re up shit creek and about to capsize.
Because, baby.
We’re having a B A B Y. If I don’t say the word it won’t be true.
I want kids. Don’t get me wrong, I want kids. At least, I think I do.
There’s no actual confirmation of it besides the pregnancy kits I peed on and the gnawing sickness that plagued me like a flock of zombies after brains.
So yeah. Complication city here we are, citizen of two.
I waited and waited. And then he faced me. Looked me directly in the eye, the storm of it was no less effective, tumbling heat through me as if he didn’t just pound me into a climax or three.
I assumed he wasn’t going to answer. When.
“I wanted to. I needed to.”
Needed to?
He needed to touch my pussy that night?
My toes curled under the sheets.
Mouth dried. “Really?”
“I don’t lie to you.” He twitched a corner lip smile and rolled sleekly onto his side, propped by an elbow, using his hand to hold up his head.
With two feet of bed space between us, I felt the heat of him under the sheet. He radiated like a volcano. That kind of body temperature shouldn’t be natural.
“I wanted you for a long fucking time, Sena and I held off acting on it because of that bullshit reason of not wanting to screw up our friendship.”
It kind of is a bullshit reason not to dive head first into a romantic relationship, life is too short to hold back, and if he’d been straight you can bet your last month's rent I would have been all over Noah like fleas on a skunk that very first night. I wouldn’t have waited, I would have acted on my attraction to him, I possibly would have acted on it again through the years, just to test the waters, to see if he’d changed towards me.
For the fact he was —is— fricking queer, and supposedly all the way queer, no deviation to pussy town until me, I never chanced telling him how I felt.
I hung back and crushed on that villain from his sofa and was so happy with our friendship.
Friendships like ours is rare.
Noah diving his hands into my shorts and stroking me to orgasm changed everything.
And excuse me——he wanted me!
My belly flutters went into free fall.
It finally penetrated through the haze in my brain. I didn’t mishear that. He spoke clear with his usual gruffness in his voice, but it’s discernible.
He’d wanted me all along.
It hadn’t been spontaneous. Or a fluke.
Noah had wanted me.
Those words sounded peculiar.
I don’t even know if they’re in the right order, but they sound foreign to my ears. He’s speaking Japanese or something.
I finally spluttered. “You wanted me? It was predetermined and not spur of the moment? How? But…” I’d thought it had been some spontaneous side-step from queerness that night. Or maybe Noah was just damn horny and used my body. To hear he wanted me before that and finally acted on it…
My mind blew fucking glitter everywhere.
And then, I laughed a little and rubbed my eyes.
Fuck. I really am screwed now.
My heart gave a little shove, telling me to be brave, to ask everything I need to know. “Look, I know it sounds idiotic now giving the fact of where we are and what we’ve done recently and before but, you are gay yet wanted me? In that way?”
“Kitten, it’s not idiotic. Why do you think I held back? If I had no answers for myself, how was I meant to give them to you? I ached to get my hands on you so fucking badly and finally I said fuck it and tested the waters by seeing if you’d want it too, in a cheesy as fuck way.”
He smirked, reached out to knock a dark strand of hair out of my eyes.
It’s as though I tasted my heartbeats. Thump. Thump. Thump. Each one was irregular and loud. If he saw my soul shining out of my eyes as he gazed at me he didn’t mention it which I’m glad for.
As ballsy as my claims are for what I would have done, I’m terrified of being rejected, or being left behind, of not being good enough.
Of losing him.
That’s a big fucking fear.
Cinderella danced with her prince and that bitch ran away.
Okay. Terrible analogy, but my mind was reeling and I’m smiling and feeling sick all at once.
“I’m besotted with you.” He confessed. My eyes pinged open. “I always have been. It just altered from one thing into another. I can’t answer why. Or why you. Or why now. It’s a feeling in me, and I don’t question it. I haven’t driven myself crazy needing to know why this is happening when no other woman has ever stirred me in the same way. Only one woman. Only you, Sena. But never doubt what I feel. It’s real.”
I’m not proud of the startled noise that came out of me.
I kind of open and closed my mouth before slapping a hand over it.
I wanted to launch myself at him and lick him all over.
“The first time you made my dick hard. Fuck.” He laughed, and I gawked, my mouth falling open again in that surprised what the fuck way.
“Wait. Back the truck up. The first time? It wasn’t the night we fooled around?”
“No. It was one morning you were going to yoga in a pair of those indecent pink shorts you like to wear. You bent down to tie your shoes. I’ve never got hard so fast.” He twitched a smirk and left the rest unsaid.
I choked. “You dirty pervert. I never knew.”
Noah winked.
It’s good I’m lying down; all my bones have disintegrated.
I’m telling you, men make women stupid. What with their gorgeous dicks and stupid, sexy crooked, villainous smiles and good smelling necks. All of them make us stupid at one time or another.
My mouth gaped open and closed, soundless.
I searched for the right words in the right order to reply.
Noah waited patiently, seeing as how the ball and decisions were in my court.
He’s made me stupid.
“I don’t. I mean. How. Well. Shit.” I blushed cherry red, the flood of heat in my belly draws my attention to the fact he’s slid his hand through the sheets and started rubbing my stomach right up to the valley between my breasts and back down again.
That big, firm body moved across the bed, coming towards me, his fingers hot on my skin. I breathed in and held it.
Held it some more.
Held it until my lungs protested.
It’s not possible to look away from him, he’s a magnet for my eyes.
The man was just too much, more so k
nowing there’s only a thin layer of sweatpants between us. We all know my reaction to him in dick-print pants. I’m practically licking my chops when his ripped body came up against mine, he leaned over me, eyes on my mouth as he descended
I’m ready to be kissed.
Lips puffy ready.
Body aching ready.
His fingers rested right under my boob, almost touching, the peak ached for attention as he just kind of caressed the under-boob skin.
Dear, god. How he tortured me.
I’m on fire, anticipating the friction he’ll give me.
“I want you, kitten.” He declared, an inch from my mouth.
He’s so close I tasted his air.
A delicious shiver rocked through me.
There’s that word again; want.
He’s so near if I were able to drag my eyes from his I could count the whiskers on his strong jawline.
There’s ample opportunity for me to reach up and meet him halfway, it’s a miracle how I don’t slut-pounce him and wrap my legs around his head. There’s no shortage of desire in me right now. It puddled, and it curled around every corner of my body.
I whimpered, and Noah smiled dipping that last inch.
I feel his mouth.
A whisper of a brush.
I wanted him. I wanted him, too.
But then that’s never been in question for me.
I’d always known it.
Knowing he wants me was … staggering.
New. And still so confusing.
“What about Tom?” I blurted right before Noah could dive for my tongue.
We stilled.
He breathed against my lips, his fingers continued their exploration moving to cup a full achy boob, he teased the nipple with his thumb and I hollowed my back pushing up for more. “Are you seeing … dating him again? I saw you with him, Noah.”
He dropped his head into the side of my neck and sighed.
Then he met my eyes.
“I know you did. So, let’s deal with that first so we can get to what’s important.” He cupped my belly.
The baby. God. Why do I keep forgetting about that?
I'm going to make the worst mother.