by Petrova, Em
“Let me finish.” Her voice was sultry and smooth. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t enjoy that at all? One of you between her legs, pounding away, and the other over her mouth, stroking himself, her tongue flicking out to caress his skin? That image doesn’t do anything for you?”
It was hard to tell which visuals were doing what. All he knew was he’d need some sort of release before dinner. He was seconds from telling her exactly that, if it meant she’d help. “I’d rather be alone between your legs, eating you out.”
A flush spread over her cheeks, but she didn’t pull away. “I wasn’t talking about me, and I call bullshit.”
“Oh?” They’d had similar discussions before. Normally one of them backed down before things escalated, but his rushing blood and rock-hard erection wouldn’t let him drop things this time.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, still stroking the inside of his thigh with her thumb. “Guys who insist they like giving oral better than receiving it only say so because they’ve never gotten a good blow job.”
Fuck. What he’d give for a chance to prove her wrong. Or—hell—prove her right. “Tell me it’s not the same for you. Maybe you’ve just never had a guy who knew what he was doing.” He trailed off, half-expecting her to blow a fuse at the suggestion. When she raised her brows instead, he kept talking. “Besides, I never blame the girl. It’s just harder to get me off orally.”
“Bullshit. Again. I could so prove you wrong.”
Every inch of him roared in response. The thought of her lips wrapped around his cock was almost enough to make him come on the spot. “Too bad we’re not in a position to do that.”
“You look like you’re in the perfect position to me. You never gave me your answer the other day.”
She still remembered. That saved him the stress of bringing it up. “About?”
“You know what about. Call it friends with benefits, if you want.”
It didn’t matter what they called it, as long as they kept the rules in mind. “It’s completely separate from our friendship.”
“Of course. We’re both okay with it, and neither of us assumes it will or won’t happen again. This is now, and every other moment is its own thing.”
Yes, goddammit. Yes. He forced his tone to remain even. “Exactly.”
“So the rules are simple. I bet I can get you off orally and you can’t do the same. You name the prize.”
“A screaming orgasm.”
“You’re on. Who goes first?”
He slid from his chair, done negotiating. He nudged her legs apart, scraping his fingers along the bare flesh of her inner thighs. Sharp cherry mingled with the scent of her sex, and his thoughts swam. He kissed up the soft skin, the pain of anticipation straining against his jeans, when she moaned and arched her back. He glided his lips up one leg and down the other—from knee to knee—never moving past the edge of her shorts.
She whimpered and slid her butt forward in the seat. “You’re a tease.”
“And?” The need in her taunt made him smile.
“And nothing.” She gasped when he kissed higher. “Just saying.”
He lightly scraped his teeth over the cotton covering her mound, gliding his tongue along the fabric and over her covered slit. She whimpered again and shifted her hips closer.
He hooked his fingers in the elastic waist of her shorts and tugged. She lifted her ass off the chair long enough to let him slide the clothes to the floor, before she dropped back in her seat, legs spread. He groaned at the sight in front of him. “Jesus. You’re gorgeous.”
She flushed and ducked her head.
He traced the outside of his finger along the edge of her pussy, his moan at how wet she already was mingling with hers. The promise of her taste taunted him, but he had a point to prove. His touch light, he parted her lower lips and followed a trail back down. Her skin glistened in the light.
He kissed up her leg until his mouth finally reached its destination. Her sweet taste hit his tongue, and his thoughts short-circuited. Better than the fantasy. Fuck. He wanted to bury his face down there and make her scream until she was hoarse.
Her breathing increased, and her hands rested on the top of his head. When he licked her clit, her gasp filled the room, and her hips bucked. His cock pressed against his jeans, begging to get in on the action, and he ignored it. He wrapped his lips around her swollen sex, and she cried out. The new sound drilled into his head and jolted his dick. He flicked his tongue back and forth over the button, sometimes nipping lightly with his teeth.
She gyrated against him, her hands locked at the base of his neck. Part of him wanted to drop his pants and slide inside her, but even more, he wanted to hear her come like this. Wanted to taste her and feel her against his mouth when it happened.
He teased the edge of her entrance with his finger, still licking. Her whimper at the light contact melted into a loud moan when he pushed two fingers inside her. Jesus, she was tight. He wondered if he might get off just from doing this.
He sucked harder on her clit, hooking up his fingers as he glided inside her.
She thrust forward again when he hit the right spot. “Fuck, Zane. God, yes.”
Her breathing came in short gasps, and he nipped at her again, her sweet taste and the lack of blood to his head making the room swim. He pushed his fingers hard inside her. The thrusting of her hips grew to a frantic pace, and she held his head in place. Her ass rose off the chair, and her pussy clenched around his fingers as she came, squirming and driving against him, and groaning until he didn’t know how she could still breathe.
Finally, she slumped back against the chair with a soft sigh.
He wanted to be smug, but even more, he wanted to bend her over the back of her seat and feel her tight pussy around his dick. Before he could decide, she stood, pulled him to his feet, and kissed him deeply. Cherry mingled with her juices, and he swore the remaining blood rushed from his head. Fuck, he wanted her.
She pulled away, face flushed and eyes still heavy with want. “You were incredible.”
He smirked. “Told you.”
She nudged his shoulders, and he dropped back into his chair. She slid her fingers down the front of her shirt, undoing the few buttons holding it on, and dropped the clothing off her shoulders.
He couldn’t pull his gaze from the gorgeous sight—the round tits, the curve of her hips, and the smooth spot between her legs.
She fell to her knees. “My turn.”
The husky tone of her voice made his cock pulse harder. She made quick work of his belt, fingers brushing his bare waist as she undid the button on his jeans. “That really was amazing.”
She pulled down his zipper, and he whimpered at the release in pressure. He groaned loudly at the skin-on-skin contact of her soft fingers working his shaft free from his boxer briefs.
She stroked him. “You’re big. You never thought to mention that?”
The compliment might have warmed him at any other time, but now it was the last thing on his mind. “Show, don’t tell. Right?”
She laughed and dropped her head, lips hovering less than an inch from his cock. He watched the deliberate, sensual movements, his pulse screaming. Her breath was hot against his skin.
“You don’t mind”—she moved her lips up his length, still not making contact, and slid her free hand down her chest—“if I feel us both up. Do you? I wouldn’t ask, but that thing you did with your tongue…” She looked up at him, her lip caught between her bottom teeth. “Just the thought of sucking you off… I’m still hot.”
He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. “Please do.”
She glided her tongue over the head of his cock. He growled when she dropped her hand between her legs at the same time she took him in her mouth, her groan vibrating through his skin. She moved slowly, keeping the tension high and him right at the edge, as she sucked.
Her sighs of pleasure increased, mingling with his. The sound of her voice blended with the look
in her eyes, her mouth sliding up and down, and the sensation of her hand wrapped around him. All of them heightened every nerve ending in his body.
She pumped in rhythm with the bob of her head, hair spilling around her face and surrounding her in a curtain of blonde strands. She increased her pace. Her muffled sighs and moans grew louder, and he recognized the sound of her drawing close to climax again. The noise drew him closer to a peak, taunting him, leaving his thoughts begging for release. She let her cries echo against his cock as she came, never slowing down.
He leaned back his head, so close to peaking but still not crossing that line. She caressed his sac, her fingers still slick from playing with herself, and he grunted in pleasure. She stroked the soft skin. Teasing. Tugging. Taunting. A rainbow wave spilled through his thoughts and filled his body. He felt a familiar clench in his gut and came fast and hard, all his thoughts vanishing is a rush when he hit the back of her throat with desperate thrusts.
She slowed as he did, pulled away, and licked him clean. He shuddered with each touch, his head still light from all the sensations.
She shifted her weight to sit on the floor, instead of kneeling, and folded her legs to the side. Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she rested her head against the inside of his thigh. Expectation and question shone in her gaze when it met his.
He let out a laugh, tinged with relief and disbelief. “Wow.”
“So we call it a draw?”
He didn’t care what they called it, as long as he got to keep the memory seared in his head. Still, he said, “A draw implies we get to try for a tie-breaker.”
“I guess it does.” She grabbed her shirt as she stood, pulling it on but letting it hang open. Her smile never faded. “I need another quick shower.”
Fantasy ran rampant through his thoughts. “You want help?”
“Most definitely.”
He closed the distance between them, tangled his fingers in her hair, and kissed her hard. His teeth crushed into his lips, and she groaned against his mouth. He let go, not hiding his smirk when a tiny sigh escaped her lips. “Maybe next time,” he said. “You don’t want to hear it from Kenzie, for being late. But give me five minutes to clean up when you’re done?”
“Sure.”
He watched her walk away, hips swaying, the shirt barely covering her ass. Reality rushed back in, and he sank into his seat with a grunt. Please don’t let this be a mistake. The internal plea turned to a chanting voice, asking if he was being selfish again, doing what he wanted, regardless of who else was involved. True, the consequences for hurting Riley wouldn’t be as severe as his last big mistake, but he’d never forgive himself if he were a cause of long-term pain for her.
Chapter Eight
Riley hit the next preset button on Zane’s radio, and sighed at the bad memories the song summoned. She moved to the next station. Commercials. She tried one more time.
“Stop.” There was no irritation in Zane’s voice. He pressed the CD button, loosely grabbed her wrist, and set her hand back in her lap.
Her skin warmed when he didn’t pull away immediately. He had been incredible back at her place—she’d meant that—but he also hadn’t said more than a couple words at a time to her since she got out of the shower. Which was exactly what she wanted to avoid. Maybe they’d pushed for too much too soon. They still hadn’t found their footing after being apart so long.
A heavy techno beat filled the car, and she groaned. “Seriously?”
“You love this song.”
She shrugged, though he was watching the road and not her. “I did a decade ago.”
“Sorry. I haven’t had a lot of time to update my music collection.” He skipped to the next track, and screaming electric kicking in. “Better?”
She flopped back in her seat. They needed to talk about what happened between them. Or she did. For all she knew, his silence meant he’d already moved on, and she was the only one stuck in the moment. “Kenzie’s going to know the minute she sees us,” she said.
He glanced at her.
She tried to ignore the way his gaze briefly traced over her body, but she couldn’t completely suppress her flush at the attention.
He blinked and turned back to the road. “Is that a bad thing?”
Neither one of them liked Kenzie’s knowing glances. Her assumptions. The insistence that one day Riley and Zane would end up together.
“I don’t know. If it’s not a big deal, we shouldn’t have a problem telling her. Right?” Riley asked.
“That’s really up to you. I’m not sure when your sex life became your sister’s business, no matter how close you are.”
“It’s not. It’s just that… Did you do that to placate me?” The moment the question spilled past her lips, she regretted it.
He paused, as if measuring his response.
“Forget it. I never should have asked,” she said.
“It’s not that.” His response rolled out in a single word. “Fuck. I meant it when I said you were incredible. In every possible way.”
“Except things are getting awkward,” she said. “I feel like you’re telling me what I want to hear.”
“I do a lot to see you smile, but I don’t lie to you.”
Relief crept in at the words. “I know. This is new territory to me. I’m still figuring out how I’m supposed to act.”
A short laugh slipped out. “Me too, but if nothing else is supposed to change, then we act like we always have.” He squeezed her fingers. “We don’t have to tell Kenzie, because there’s nothing for her to know.”
Except something had changed. It wasn't only that the images dancing in her head felt far more real now she had a point of reference. Or that her fantasies about sex with Zane had a basis in reality and would be more insistent than ever. But it wasn’t a bad change, and the things he’d done with his tongue—she had no problem admitting she’d been wrong about being on the receiving end. And she could do this. They were still friends. “I guess so.”
“You know so, or it doesn’t count.”
“I know so.”
He traced his thumb along the back of her hand. “So no big deal if it happens again?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
He gave her a sideways glance.
She wasn’t writing off another chance at whatever they could get up to. “No big bad deal, if it happens again. If next time is anything like this afternoon, it’s certainly not insignificant.”
“Fair enough.” He let go of her hand to downshift and turn into the restaurant parking lot. A whisper of disappointment trickled through her at the missing contact, but she tucked it away.
They maneuvered through the parking lot, looking for an empty spot. Riley recognized the familiar black Escalade in the front row as they approached, the G4M3G0D license plate making it hard to miss. She wasn’t surprised Scott and Kenzie were already there. They were rarely less than ten minutes early to anything.
“Game God? Really?” Zane’s question was laced with disgust. “I wonder what kind of jackass drives that.”
This wasn’t quite how she’d wanted to continue a fantastic evening.
He glanced at her, as he pulled into a parking spot. “You’re kidding.”
“I told you. Kenzie landed herself a sexy rich guy.”
“He’s like… a programmer or something?” Zane fell into step beside her, as they headed toward the restaurant.
She probably should have given him a little more information when she extended her sister’s invite, but the conversation had taken a random tangent—like they so frequently did—and she’d never gotten around to it. “Something like that. He’s Chief Technology Officer of Rinslet Enterprises.”
Zane’s step faltered. “You mean that Scott McAllister? How do you neglect to mention your sister is engaged to one of the biggest names in the industry?”
Sometimes Riley forgot Zane could be a fan boy. She tugged his hand to get him moving again. “Because I know him,
and he’s just another guy.”
“Yeah, okay.” He didn’t sound convinced. He also didn’t let go of her hand, as they approached the entrance.
Kenzie looked at their intertwined fingers and then back at Riley, a knowing smile on her lips. Scott glanced at his watch.
Riley glared at her sister, hoping to convey this wasn’t what it looked like.
Kenzie shook her head, still smiling, and turned to Zane. “Hey, stranger.”
“Hey, yourself.” He gave her a brief hug, both of them pulling away awkwardly.
Riley hid her laugh. Neither her sister nor Zane was ever physical, but it showed the most when they were together.
Introductions were made, while Scott studied Zane, brow furrowed.
“They won’t hold our table forever.” Scott’s tone was friendly but clipped.
Riley resisted the urge to ask what his problem was. He seemed to have lost the good humor she assumed was an integral part of him. She glanced at her sister. Kenzie’s shocked expression probably mirrored her own.
“Right. Sure.” Kenzie nodded toward the entrance. “We’ll catch up when we’re seated.”
The steakhouse was packed with an eclectic assortment of businessmen drinking and loosening their ties, families, and couples in jeans and T-shirts. Amber light diffused the white tablecloths, and the background music was lost in the chatter filling the room. Riley was grateful, as she usually was, that Kenzie and Scott didn’t go for the higher-end places. She hated getting dressed up to go out to dinner, and she was glad someone had convinced her sister that wasn’t necessary for a happy existence.
Scott was on a first-name basis with most of the staff, and they were seated quickly. Water and drinks were on their table within moments.
The conversation lulled, and Riley shot her sister a helpless look.
“Game God, huh?” Zane took a sip of his water, his tone casual.
“We can’t all drive classic Beemers.” Sarcasm laced Scott’s reply.
Riley resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Please don’t let them do this.