by Lili Valente
“Literally.” I giggle at my joke, smile widening when Justin laughs with me.
“Right.” He sits up beside me as I pull my clothes back into place. “He was probably dealing with a lot of guilt about sex, and guilt makes everything un-fun and un-sexy. Even with a smoking-hot fox like you.”
I sit up, crossing my legs. “I don’t feel guilty now. Do you?”
“Not even a little bit.” His gaze burns into mine with a heat that gives me a full body shiver. “I can’t wait to show you all the different ways I can make you come. It’s my new fucking mission in life, Libs. Literally.”
I grin and lean in, giving him an impulsive kiss that turns into something slow and sweet and oh so good.
When we finally part, I’m warm and tingling all over, and so grateful to Jus for what he’s done for me already that I decide not to worry about the monster in his pants. When and if we decide to go that far, I can talk to him about my concerns and we’ll work through it together. Jus is my friend, and has been for years, and he’s right, we’ve always been able to talk.
It might be a little awkward, but I can talk to him about anything, even the possibility that he might have elephantiasis of the penis.
I snort, but cover it with a cough as Jus helps me to my feet.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, eyes narrowed.
I shake my head. “Nothing. I’m just happy. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Seriously, Libby, I’m going to get every bit as much out of this as you are. Now I don’t have to worry about rebounding from Sylvia, and I’ll get to spend some quality time with a very good friend. Naked. Have I mentioned that I’m really excited about getting you naked?”
I bite my lip, fighting a smile. “I’m pretty excited about getting you naked, too. You’re not the most hideous specimen I’ve seen, Cruise.”
“You either, Collins.” He chuckles as he loops an arm around my shoulders, hugging me close as we start back through the chapel toward the trail. “But can we stop for pizza on the way back to my place? I skipped lunch and I’m going to need something to keep my stamina up until one or two in the morning.”
“I have to be at school by seven a.m.,” I warn him. “Some of us work normal hours for a living, you know.”
“Does that mean you’re not sleeping over?” He sounds so sad I can’t help but laugh.
“No, it means, we’re asleep by ten, so I can get up at six and swing by my place to shower and change clothes before I head into school. Or we could just go to my place instead…”
He shakes his head. “No, my place is closer, and I have a Jacuzzi. And I need to do terrible wonderful things to you in there as soon as possible.”
“Okay.” I glance up at him, my stomach fluttering. “Just don’t move too fast, okay? Maybe take the training wheels off a little at a time?”
“Don’t worry, Libs,” he says, expression sobering. “I get it. There’s no pressure on my end. Like I said, I just want to make you feel good. We’ll go slow, you can ask all the questions you want, and we’ll keep the lines of communication open. If I’m doing something you don’t like, or vice versa, we’ll talk about it, make adjustments, and we’ll both come hard and often. It’s all good.”
“Sounds good,” I say, cheeks heating again. “And maybe I’ll eventually stop blushing every time we have a conversation like this.”
He shrugs. “Or keep blushing. You’re cute when you blush. And you’re stunning when you come. Seriously, so far I can’t see that you have anything to be insecure about. You’re beautiful, babes, and so fucking sexy.”
This time the heat doesn’t stop at my cheeks. It radiates throughout my entire body, making me feel like I’m glowing. But it’s a happy glow, a hopeful glow, and walking through the woods with Justin’s arm around me and my hand still a little sticky feels good.
Hell, better than good. This might be one of the best days of my life, and I get to share it with someone I love, even if it’s not in that way. I’m a lucky woman.
And I’m about to get even luckier…
Chapter Fourteen
Justin
We grab a pie from Papa Mack’s and are back on the road in just a few minutes. All the way back to my place, I keep my hand on Libby’s thigh, my thoughts a non-stop smut-fest, featuring all the things I’m going to do to her as soon as I get her alone. First on my couch, then in my bed, and then in my Jacuzzi with my hands soaping her breasts while I reveal to her why my magic jets are so magical.
The thought of making her come, again and again, until she’s completely wasted on orgasms is enough to keep me rock-hard and aching, even before I allow myself to imagine her lips parting around my cock, her pink tongue circling the tip as I show her just how easy it is to make a man lose his fucking mind.
Two days ago, the thought of pumping between Libby’s lips while she sucked me off would have given me a guilt complex, but now it’s right up there with the most anticipated events of my year, right along with setting a scoring record for the Badgers and taking my boat on a cruise down the coast to Mexico as soon as the season is through.
“What are you thinking?” Libby asks, as we stop at a light not far from my place, waiting for the damned thing to turn green. Of course we’re hitting every damned light. It’s like the universe can sense how desperate I am to get Libs alone and is doing everything in its power to prolong the sweet torture.
“I’m thinking about your pussy,” I answer honestly. “And how I can’t wait to make you come all over my face.”
She laughs—soft and surprised—and her thighs squeeze closer together, trapping my hand between them. “You have the filthiest mouth.”
“That’s not filthy. It would be filthy if I said I can’t wait to fuck your sweet cunt with my tongue,” I say, curling my fingers into her muscled flesh. “That I can’t wait to be drowning in you because I’ve made you come so hard. Or if I said I’m dying to have your tits in my mouth while I—”
“Okay,” she says with another breathy laugh. “Point taken.”
“Not a fan of dirty talk? If so, I can tone it down.” At least until we’re naked and you’re riding my cock and I lose all control over the words coming out of my mouth. I know myself too well to think I’ll be able to Boy Scout it up that much. “Like I said, I want us to be honest with each other, Libs. If the dirty stuff turns you off, I want to know.”
“No, I…” She clears her throat. “No, it’s okay.”
“Okay?” I repeat incredulously. “Okay like oatmeal is okay for breakfast? Okay like soap is an okay gift if you haven’t known someone for very long. Okay like—”
“No, okay as in you’re cleared for dirty talk,” she says, a naughty grin curving her lips. “I like it.”
“Yeah? How much do you like it?” My cock shoves against my zipper, insisting it’s going to fall off of my body as an act of protest if I don’t get out of these jeans in the next ten minutes.
Damn traffic light. If we were at the front of the line, I would run it.
Libby turns my way, meeting my gaze as she says in a soft voice, “Well, my panties are wet again. So I’d say that’s a pretty good sign.”
I curse beneath my breath. “Oh, sweet Libs, I’m going to make a dirty girl of you yet, and it’s going to be a beautiful, beautiful thing.”
She smiles, her dimple popping. “You should drive,” she says, just as the guy behind me lays on the horn.
I put the pedal to the metal, making it to the parking garage in record time and swinging into my space fast enough to make the tires squeal. The second I shove the car into park and cut the engine, I lean over, capturing Libby’s mouth for a kiss, groaning as her tongue dances and swirls against mine, her shyness clearly a thing of the past. I can feel her hunger in the way her fingers dig into my shoulders, in the way she angles her head, granting me even deeper access to her sweet mouth.
And then she reaches down to caress the bulge in my jeans through the strained fab
ric, and for a moment I go blind with wanting her.
“Upstairs,” I order against her lips. “Now. And the second we’re through the door I want your clothes off, Libby.”
“Filthy and bossy,” she says, her words turning to a gasp as I cup her pussy possessively, rubbing the heel of my hand against her clit.
“Yes, I am bossy, but you like it. I can tell.” I rest my forehead against hers as I continue to tease her through her pants, making her breath come faster. “And you’re going to like it even more as soon as I get you out of these clothes. I fucking promise you that, Libs. So, what are you going to do as soon as we get to my place, beautiful?”
“I’m going to take off my clothes.” She pulses into my hand with a moan.
“And what else are you going to do?”
“Whatever you tell me to do,” she says, sending another bolt of need straight to my already aching balls. “Within reason.”
“Good girl,” I say, feeling pretty sure I can make her forget about reason. If I can’t, I don’t deserve to be the man at the helm of her sex education.
But I know I do. And I know I can. All I need is time, four walls, and a lock I can turn to make sure Libby and I aren’t disturbed until I’ve shown her how much she’s been missing.
We hurry out of the car, forgetting the pizza in the back seat in our dash for the elevator. I sprint back for it—we’re going to need sustenance to keep our energy up for coming our brains out—and rejoin Libby as the elevator dings open and we make out all the way up to the twelfth floor. I’ve got a beautiful woman in one arm and a pizza balanced on the other, and I’m positive this is going to be one of the best evenings I’ve had in a while.
Near the end, Sylvia and I were fighting so often that I haven’t had a hot, uncomplicated screw in longer than I would like to admit. And there is something so fucking sexy about Libby right now.
I don’t know if it’s her relative inexperience that has me so turned on—there’s little I enjoy more than teaching someone I love a pastime I love—or her curvy little body, or something chemical that’s flipped a switch in my brain, but I’m out of my goddamned mind with lust. I’m so focused on getting Libby inside and under me that at first I don’t understand why she grinds to a halt beside me outside the elevator.
“What’s—”
“Get down,” she hisses, pulling me down to the ground behind the potted plants that frame the elevator door. “Laura’s down the hall!”
I curse, breath rushing out as I realize my mistake. “She’s coming over to watch movies. I totally fucking forgot.”
“How could you forget?” Libby whispers, eyes wide as she watches her sister sashay toward my front door. “Keeping Laura in the dark is at least two of the rules! Your rules, I remind you.”
“Sorry. I was distracted by your lips and your breasts and all the other sexy parts of you I’m going to get my mouth on as soon as we get rid of your sister. We’ll tell her you’re helping me with a crochet project and pick out something insanely hard. In ten minutes she’ll be so bored, she’ll show herself out.”
Libby shakes her head. “No way, Justin. We can’t show up together like this. Laura will know something’s up the second she looks at my face.”
“No, she won’t.” I sigh again as Libby shoots me a look that encourages me to get fucking real. “Okay, fine. You’re right. You look like you can’t wait to get me naked and lick me up and down like an ice cream cone.”
Her lips quirk. “I was thinking a lollipop, but you’re on the right track. Which means I have to make a break for it, and you have to stay here and keep Laura from getting suspicious.”
“No way. We’ll just head over to your place.” I reach up, pressing the down button on the elevator. “I’ll call and make my excuses to Laura on the way.”
“You can’t cancel. You know how she is. If you cancel, she’ll take it personally and you’ll have to spend a month trying to get back in her good graces.”
“I’m okay with that.” I jab the down button again.
“Well, I’m not.” Her lips are set in a firm line that makes it clear she’s well and truly made up her mind. “I don’t want whatever we’re doing to interfere with your relationship with my sister. I’m calling a car to take me home. All the parts of me that you want to get your mouth on will still be here tomorrow night.”
“I have a game tomorrow night. In Seattle.”
“Tuesday night, then,” she says.
I wince, the knowledge that I have to wait another forty-eight hours to get more of Libby physically painful. “You promise? Tuesday night you’re all mine?”
“I promise,” she says, kissing me on the cheek as the elevator doors open. “And I promise you’re not going to die.”
“If I do, I’m blaming you. I want ‘pussy deprivation’ etched into my headstone, Collins. And I want you to leave orchids or some other pussy-resembling flower on my grave daily as a gesture of penance. Seriously.”
She laughs, kisses me again—this time on the mouth, a quick good-bye peck that leaves me aching for more—before crawling into the elevator on her hands and knees and tapping the ground floor button. “See you Tuesday.” Her fingers flutter, the doors slide shut, and she’s gone.
With a sigh, I stand, pizza in hand, and think about my shitty practice yesterday. I think about abandoned puppies, people who enjoy Phil Collins music, gummy candies with pockets of liquid inside, and other disgusting and disturbing things, doing my best to get my hard-on under control as I start down the hall, feeling frustrated, thwarted, and miserable. If only I hadn’t been so fixated on the erotic benefits of the goddamned Jacuzzi, Libby and I would have ended up at her place and I could be making her come right now.
Fuck!
I love Laura, she is my dear friend, but right now I would like for her to develop a disease that would send her home to bed for the night. Nothing too awful, of course, just enough to keep her out of my hair for the next eight to twelve hours while I do wicked, wonderful things to her little sister.
The little sister she is insanely protective of, and who she would probably beat me into a bloody pulp for introducing to the fuck buddy lifestyle.
The thought is enough to take the edge off, and by the time I round the corner to find Laura outside my door, scrolling through something on her phone, the pity party in my pants has subsided.
“Hey, I was just texting you.” She grins as she spots the pizza. “Bless you, you sweet, wonderful man. I’ve been jonesing for cheese all day long. You’re the very best.”
“I aim to please,” I say, guilt lifting its grubby head inside of me. I am not the very best. I am the jerk who forgot we were meeting up tonight and almost did obscene things to her innocent sister in my bathtub.
Laura leans in for a hug, but pauses before her arms are all the way around my waist. “Where were you just now?”
“What? Why?” I ask, wondering if I’ve got lipstick on my face or some other telltale sign that might give my near-tryst with Libby away.
“You smell funny,” Laura says, her eyes narrowing.
I laugh tightly as I dig into my pocket for my keys. “Thanks, Laura.”
“Not in a bad way, just different. But sort of familiar.” She leans in, sniffing my shoulder as I open the door, making sweat break out beneath my button-up. “Like flowers or—”
“I stopped in a flower shop to get something to send to Sylvia,” I lie. “She wasn’t happy about me having all her shit delivered to her office by messenger yesterday, so I figured I should try to make amends. No reason to get on her bad side just because we broke up.”
Laura chuckles. “It’s cute how you think you’re going to stay friends with your exes even though that never ever happens.”
“People stay friends with their exes.”
“People do, but you don’t. Name one woman you’ve previously dated who doesn’t run the other way the second she sees your pretty face,” Laura says, grunting smugly as I search my
memory banks and come up empty. “See. You can’t be friends. Once you love ’em and leave ’em you might as well give up, Cruise. You’re too much of a heartbreaker to end up on the ‘still friends’ list.”
I open the door, frowning as I hold it for Laura. “But I’m not an asshole about breaking up. At least not all the time, or even most of the time.”
“Of course you aren’t.” Laura pats my chest as she breezes inside and slips out of her coat. “You’re just an intense experience for women, I think. Like dry red wine. You either love it or you hate it.” She hangs her coat on the antique hooks my interior decorator scattered all over the wall inside the door and turns back to me with a finger held up in the air. “No, you’re like vodka. Once you puke it up, you never want to drink it again. You don’t even want to think about vodka or look at it or remember that vodka exists.”
“You were super hungover yesterday, I’m assuming,” I say, ready to change the subject.
“So fucking hungover. It was miserable,” Laura groans, looping her purse handle over another hook and pulling out a small stack of DVDs. “I hit the dispenser outside of the drugstore and got all the new releases. You want some edgy horror that’s supposed to be great, sappy romance with a cheesy-looking dog in it, or some lame science fiction with a thin premise and people wearing too much green makeup?”
“I’m guessing horror, since you made the other two sound so appealing.”
“Wise man,” Laura says as she heads for the couch. “I would like three slices of whatever that is, please and thank you.”
I set the pizza down on the kitchen island and stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of my condo at the view of downtown and the mountains beyond, where dark storm clouds are rolling in to darken the bright autumn afternoon.
Laura is right. None of my exes ever want to be friends, and that includes my old fuck buddy Kirsten, who, after finding her true love, George, decided she never wanted to see me again. I was not invited to the wedding, even though Kirsten and I worked at hockey camps together every winter growing up and were seriously tight all through college. And now when we run into each other at the parties of mutual friends, she just nods politely before finding someone else to talk to.