by Rachel Jonas
“Uh… sure,” I answer, forcing my eyes toward the mirror and away from him.
“Cool. Thanks.”
He steps in then, and I try to ignore the sound of water pelting the tile when he turns it on. But what’s not so easy to ignore is when he drops his towel, giving me an eyeful as I stare at the chiseled perfection of his muscular back and perfectly toned ass. My vision of him in the reflection is cut off when he disappears behind the shower curtain.
“What time’s cheer practice start?” he asks, prompting me to blink for the first time since he entered.
“Eight,” I answer. “What time do you have to report in?”
“Eight thirty. I’m usually early, but I’ll be cutting it close today.”
I knew he’d gone to bed late. At least, I saw light coming from the living room TV well past midnight, but I wasn’t sure he was still awake. Guess I could’ve gone to check but, honestly? After I finished with laundry and we returned to the loft, I stayed to myself.
Call me crazy, but coming on your best friend’s fingers makes things a tad bit awkward. Although, I must say, Dane rebounds from these encounters with impressive ease. It’s like getting so close to one another doesn’t even faze him, like it feels completely natural.
“You’re quiet this morning,” he notes, just as steam and the scent of his body wash are starting to fill the small space of our shared bathroom.
“Am I? I didn’t realize.”
He goes silent then, which makes me even more aware of my weirdness. Geez, I really have to stop doing this shit to myself—overthinking, letting anxiety get the best of me. It’s Dane, the person I’m closest to, out of everyone. I’ve got to relax.
“Mind if I ask you something?” His voice trails off and more of that tempting aroma wafts my way.
“Sure,” I say, smoothing my hair to where I intend to secure my ponytail.
“Last night was the first time someone’s touched you like that?”
He asks this question already knowing the answer, seeing as how we hide very little from each other. But I’ll be damned if my pep talk didn’t just go right out the window, knowing he expects an answer. Just like that, I’m all nerves again.
“It… I… yeah,” I finally admit, uncertain why I had such a hard time getting those words out.
“Hm,” is all he says at first, which has my mind going in a thousand different directions.
“I know. I’ve lived my life like a nun, right?” I say with a laugh, hoping it’ll help me loosen up.
“I wasn’t thinking that.”
When his words cut off there, I’m left hanging on the end of his sentence.
“Then, what is it?”
“Just that… something else came to mind. Something you might enjoy more than me fingering you.”
He stops there and doesn’t elaborate. The possibilities that race through my thoughts have my heart beating double time.
“Like what?” My voice quivers when I finally manage to get the words out.
I’m finished with my hair, but still lingering, desperate to see where this conversation goes.
“Has a guy ever gone down on you?” he rasps, making my eyes flutter with the question. He’s so straight-forward, so confident, sometimes it’s staggering to be on the receiving end of whatever he has to say.
“N—no. Never,” I practically choke out.
“Hm.”
He makes that vague noise again and I’m no more certain what it means now than I was the time before. Thinking the conversation is over, I push off from where I’ve leaned against the counter’s edge and take one step before Dane’s voice rings in my ears again. It sounds different, though.
It’s contemplative, deep, smoky.
“If you’re ready, we can try that next. Just say when.”
I process that, his offer. Then, I imagine it. That’s enough to make the sensitive areas he touched and probed last night awaken with need.
A quivering breath puffs from my lips and I leave him without a response. Not because he doesn’t deserve one, but rather because… he terrifies me. Like, legit scares the shit out of me. I didn’t know this side of him, the side that’s sexual and ravenous and so, so tempting. He leaves me raw, feeling like there’s not much I wouldn’t agree to when it comes to him.
All because I’ve never wanted to be so close to anyone in my entire life.
We have a rule—that we won’t let our emotions come into play. Only, the more we touch, the more I let him in, I feel that barrier I’ve built up beginning to crumble. Piece by piece.
It’s enough that, I’m wondering if we should stop before we’ve really even gotten started.
But there’s a large part of me that’s telling me something I don’t think I’m ready to hear.
That if the plan was to not fall for Dane… I’m already years too late.
My concentration’s been shit all practice.
I’ve missed half my cues, got slapped in the face by a blonde ponytail when I wasn’t paying attention, and I think one of my coaches already hates me.
Why?
Because my squad’s working out on the track instead of inside the gym. Which means I’ve had my eyes glued to the practice football field where Dane and his teammates run plays.
All I can think about are his words. The ones that have had me living in a fantasy ever since he spoke them.
Football practice is almost over, so the guys are mostly just throwing passes and hanging out while the coaches talk on the sidelines. I spot all three Goldens—because being so close, they flock to each other like magnets. Dane stands out, though. More than anyone, actually. The sun’s beating down on his broad shoulders as he sweats in this insane heat, free from the pads and jersey that once blocked my view. He tosses his head back with a laugh and, with the distance between us, and over the music streaming through Coach Melissa’s speakers, I can only hear its sound because I’ve memorized it.
“Francois!”
My head snaps toward the sound of my name being called. The voice is sharp and filled with frustration. And it isn’t until now that I realize the reason I heard music is because our next set of squats was supposed to start.
And I missed the signal.
“I’m so sorry. I—”
“Save it,” Coach Melissa snaps. “Step off the track until you fix whatever the hell has you so distracted.”
Embarrassed hearing a few members of the squad laugh behind their hands, I do as I’m told, knowing I have to get my shit together. But another glance in Dane’s direction has me thinking about Coach’s words.
Fix whatever has me distracted.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach for my duffle and pull out my phone just as Dane drops down onto the bench beside Sterling. I type out a message and hit send quickly, knowing I’ll change my mind if I don’t.
My heart races as he pauses mid conversation to reach for his bag, retrieving his phone I’m guessing at the sound of the notification my text generated. The slow smile that spreads across his lips tells me I’m not the only one looking forward to what comes next.
And all it took was sending him one word.
Joss: Tonight.
@QweenPandora: Holy back-tatts, Batman. No clue how well football practice did or didn’t go, but these pics are about to break the internet! Our boys have certainly been eating their Wheaties!
With reports of VirginVixen blatantly screwing up cheer practice, is it safe to say she was blinded by the sunlight glinting off her bestie’s chest?
I’m going to go out on a limb and say I’ve nailed it.
Also, it bears mentioning that my fave messy trio—PrettyBoyD, VV, and NotJoss—have been blowing up, haven’t they? I checked their followers this morning and WTF! Pretty soon, they’ll have more people tuning in than me!
I have a couple theories why this might be. Either you lovelies are flocking to them because you’re rooting for one pairing or the other, or it’s what my gut’s telling m
e. That you’re all addicted to the drama.
Well, keep the pics coming and we’ll sort through the dirty laundry of Cypress Pointe royalty together. There’s certainly enough of it to go around.
Later, Peeps.
—P
21
Joss
Dane: Be there in five.
That text has a quivering breath puffing from my lips.
Nervous wreck?
Jittery mess?
Yep, that’s me.
He had plans after practice. He and his brothers had a date to sort through some of their father’s things to ready them for a charity pick-up, per their mother’s request. So, I used the time alone to try to relax, ending the task with a piping hot bath that helped some. Now, I’m standing naked in the mirror, asking if I’m ready for this. Ready to be seen.
And I mean completely seen.
I moisturize from head to toe, then spray a little perfume, but still don’t feel settled. I’m obsessed with being perfect, so despite having shaved yesterday, I did it again tonight. Simply because the idea of being so exposed has me self-conscious.
I ignore the thought that comes next—that I’m not concerned with perfection in general, but rather that… I want to be perfect for him.
Shit. I can’t believe I agreed to this.
The thought hits me that it’s not too late to back out, tell him I spoke too soon. But then I think about last night and, if I’m being honest, I kind of love it when he touches me.
Removing matches from the top drawer of my dresser, I light both lavender candles placed on the edge. Then, right away, I consider blowing them out because it feels like I’m trying to set a mood. But maybe I am, so I leave them lit.
The door to the loft opens then closes, and I panic a little. He’s here and I’m not even dressed. What the hell am I supposed to wear anyway? I don’t own any real lingerie. So, should I go with a night shirt?
I decide on a pair of black panties with matching bra, then take the fluffy robe off the hook behind my door. Dane’s steps bring him closer, and I stare at the knob, expecting it to turn. So, when it doesn’t, the anticipation builds.
From what I can hear, he makes a stop in his bedroom, then backtracks to the bathroom where the shower turns on. While I wait, I kill the light and find a quiet playlist to fill the silence. Then, I get situated on the bed, changing positions at least thirty times before deciding to just scoot to the top and rest my back against the headboard.
Relax. It’s just Dane. You know him. You trust him.
The shower turns off and I expect his steps to head in the direction of his bedroom, but they’re headed toward mine. They stop at my door and a quiet knock follows.
“Come in,” I call out, my voice quivering.
He doesn’t hesitate, which proves I’m the only one who’s nervous. He steps in and my breaths come hard and fast, rushing over my lips as I drink in the sight of him—smooth, damp skin, rigid muscle everywhere my eyes land, smoldering green eyes. He stares back and I try to ignore that he’s only wearing a towel.
“Hey,” I say breathily, not knowing how else to address a living, breathing wet-dream.
A smile tugs at one side of his lips, but he doesn’t return the greeting. A command leaves him, sending a chill racing down my spine.
“Stand up.”
The gentle yet forceful words have another breath hitching in my throat, but I do as I’m told. He’s maybe a foot away, but not for long because he takes my wrist and draws me closer. His eyes don’t leave mine. Instead, they stay trained on me as he undoes my robe, slowly tugging the belt free. It’s only as his eyes dip to my chest that I see how heavily he’s breathing.
He focuses on the dark, lace bra that covers my breasts—the silver clasp at the front in particular. Then, his eyes lower to the black panties that leave little to the imagination. There’s something feral in his eyes and I try to swallow my nerves, imagining he’ll want them off next. He slips his hands inside my open robe and the subtle roughness of his palms moving down my back has me leaning into him. His warm breath moves down the side of my neck and I close my eyes when he places a kiss there. He makes a trail back up to my ear.
“I want you naked.”
When he steps back, I open my eyes, seeing his are hooded, full of lust and need. I don’t move right away, though, and he senses my hesitation. I know as much when his brow quirks.
“Would it make things easier if I go first?” he asks.
That hammering inside my chest triples at the mere thought of him revealing himself. But when I nod, I swear I haven’t even given my body permission to respond. So, as his hands lower to the towel secured around his waist, and my eyes follow, I’m aware of my curiosity.
He loosens it slowly, maybe just to toy with my fragile heart. Then… he drops it to the floor.
My shoulders rise and fall as I stare. The length and thickness of him leaves me absolutely speechless. I’m fighting myself—knowing I shouldn’t gawk but can’t look away. I’ve envisioned him like this many times over the years, but not even my imagination did him justice.
He’s fully erect, the smooth head of his cock pointing skyward. A network of veins shows faintly just beneath the skin, and I’m still stunned by the magnificence of it all. My first thought is of how badly I want him. Then, second, I’m reminded of the throbbing pain that would likely follow.
Still, might just be worth it.
“Now you,” he says in a low voice as his gaze fills with expectation.
Slipping the robe off my shoulders is the easy part, but my fingers linger on the clasp of my bra, knowing this is the point of no return. Yes, I’ve officially seen my best friend naked, but showing myself to him is a whole other ballgame.
Just do it.
I twist my fingers quickly, feeling the slight click of the hook coming undone, and then I release it. The weight of my breasts forces the fabric apart quickly, and my nipples harden in the slightly chilled air.
Dane’s eyes are on me—impatient, hungry.
He raises his hands to touch me, and I hold my breath, only exhaling when his palms settle high on my ribs, brushing his thumbs across the firmness of my nipples.
Our gazes lock and the tension between us is through the roof. His hands make an unhurried descent down my torso, stopping when he reaches the elastic of my underwear, and I’m breathing his air as the thin satin is lowered to my thighs, and then falls to my feet.
I step out of them, still unable to look away from the deep green irises that have me feeling emotions I’m not supposed to feel.
Emotions I’m not allowed to feel.
But the rational part of my being isn’t really in control right now.
My heart is.
“Fucking beautiful,” he says in a low voice.
“Thanks.” That word leaves me as I let Dane’s eyes roam parts of my body no one else has ever seen.
“Climb up on the bed.”
I obey just like I’ve obeyed every other gentle order I’ve been given tonight.
My eyes are glued to his masculine perfection as he joins me, kneeling where my feet are stretched toward the footboard. He lifts my right leg, and I didn’t expect to feel heat from his lips covering my tattoo. I’m fixated on him, watching as he kisses a painstakingly slow trail over the top of my foot, up my ankle, to my calf. I swear I’m hyperventilating as his path continues to my knee, then my inner thigh, and he settles there, lying flat on my bed.
Slowly, adding to the tension that has my entire body vibrating with need, he inserts a finger into me. If I had to guess, he’s just realized how ready I am, how much I want this even if my nervousness implies otherwise. Then, gentle licks that trace my slit come only seconds before his beautiful face disappears between my legs.
“Shit!” I gasp as my back arches off the mattress. Dane’s tongue probes and seeks, and there’s already so much unshed tension building within me.
He cups my ass in his large hands, squeezing, c
onveying that sense of possession I’ve felt before. The sheet gathers in my fists when I claw at them, having nowhere else to direct the pressure mounting inside me, screaming to be set free.
I will myself to glance down my body at him, watching as he shamelessly and skillfully feasts. Somehow, he senses that he has my attention, and that wickedly sexy stare of his locks with mine. He doesn’t break our gaze as he lifts his head, teasing me with a slow swipe of his tongue over my clit. The action inspires another of my sharp gasps, but nothing like the sound that leaves me when licking turns into feverish sucking, drawing the tender bud between his lips.
My head crashes back to the mattress, panting in uneven rhythm as my body contorts in strange ways. Both legs quake where they’re positioned over his shoulders, losing my grip on the last ounce of control I’ve clung to for dear life.
His talent has me at my peak faster than I ever thought possible, but there’s no fighting it. I’m coming, soaking the sheet beneath me, and it’s the single most powerful thing I’ve ever felt.
It takes several seconds for the wave to retreat, and when it does, Dane’s pleasant assault on my clit slows, then finally stops.
I don’t open my eyes, concentrating on my own wild breathing as feather-light kisses move over my thighs, then to my stomach as my heart begins to settle to a normal pace.
“You okay?” he asks, the sound of his need hanging on every syllable.
I can’t form words yet, so I only nod, gripping my hair in both hands.
The response draws a throaty laugh out of him, and it’s got to be the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.
“Good,” he says. “I thought this might be something you’d enjoy.”
The bed shifts beneath his weight, and then he stands. It isn’t until my skin goes cold where he once warmed it that I open my eyes to finally look at him. He pushes his hand down his chin, removing traces of my wetness that were left behind.