by Raven, Jo
I wanna say, fuck Joel. Fuck everyone. I want her. I want to kiss her again, touch her, explore her body. Sink inside her.
But Joel’s all the family I have. I’d do anything not to piss him off. Even hide who I really am, and how much I want him.
So yeah. Add to that the tiny detail of my missing diploma, and I don’t think this is gonna work out. A shame.
I really shouldn’t start punching walls while at work—while on my first day at work, no less. With Candy staring at me like I’m an unexploded grenade.
“What?” I grind out. “What is it?”
“Are you okay?”
And that’s when I realize my hands are curled into white-knuckled fists, and my jaw is clenched tight. Well, excuse me, world, it’s been a damn hard couple of weeks.
“Yeah, peachy.”
“Jethro…” She reaches for me and I jerk back, even as my body is straining toward her. “Crap, I’m sorry.”
“Not your damn fault. I’m fine.”
“You don’t understand, I—”
“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m good.” I swallow hard, my mouth dry. “It’s on me. I assumed stuff I had no business assuming. I didn’t know you’re the girl Joel has a crush on.” I draw a deeper breath. “Is he gone?”
“He has a crush on me?”
This time I turn and drive my fist into the closest shelf, sending two books crashing to the floor.
She gasps. Reaches for me again.
Breathing hard, I step out of her reach and start toward the exit, pushing aside a cart full of books and bumping my hip into a heavy chair.
“Where are you going?” She’s hurrying after me, dammit.
“Out.”
“Wait.”
I shove the door and step outside, the noise of traffic slamming into me. I start down the avenue, wishing I had my smokes with me.
“Jethro.”
Fuck, she’s followed me out. I ignore her as best I can, opening my stride, no clue where I’m going.
It’s gonna be fine, I tell myself. I will control the urge to press my body to hers, my mouth to her lips. I’ll keep my head down and work. I’ll help Joel regain his sex drive and get the girl, and once in a while I will allow myself to jack off to fantasies of them together.
I kick at a wall in passing, garnering sour looks from passersby.
It sucks. But I’ll get over it. Got over lots of much worse things in the past. This is nothing. Just because I want her doesn’t mean I get to have her.
God knows I learned that lesson, received the message loud and clear many times over.
Screw you, too, life. Bitch.
“Jethro!”
I realize I’ve stopped in front of a liquor store. Should I go in and buy something for later on? Get some buzz going. Unwind.
“Hey.” She’s breathless as she catches my arm again.
I pull free easily.
I wish the grip were stronger. That she’d stop me from going, not let me go. Need someone to hold me down, keep me still.
My feet won’t move anyway. I place a hand against the glass of the storefront, lean against it. My head is heavy so I press my forehead to the smooth, cold surface.
She stands beside me, looking into the store. I steal a glance at her. The little frown. The long lashes. The smooth cheeks and neck.
This isn’t her fault, but I’ve made her feel bad. No matter how much I wanted a minute to myself, she’s here, a warm presence beside me.
“Hey.” I nudge her, and she shoots me a surprised look. “Everything’s okay. You shouldn’t feel bad, Sugar Pop. If nothing else, you gave me a job. Wanting you is my problem, not yours.”
“It’s not…” She draws her lower, plump lip between her small teeth and damn, I’m getting hard already. “Not like that.”
I wait for her to elaborate, explain what she means, but she only shakes her head, her cheeks coloring again.
Cars pass behind us. Someone honks. A dog barks.
Her hand slips over my arm again, and this time I let it. Let its slight weight, let its warmth seep through the thin cotton of my shirt and settle into my skin.
“You’ll do fine at the bookstore,” she says. She leans into me, and a sigh escapes me. Her glasses hide her eyes, drawing all my attention to her soft mouth. “At the concert you said you lost your job. Like, suddenly.”
I give a non-committal grunt. I told her that? Damn.
“Can you talk about what happened?”
No. “I kinda… lost it.”
And I snap my mouth shut, tension rising up my back, curling around my spine.
“Lost it?” Her repeating that painful word should cut like a knife, but her voice is so soft. Like kitten fur.
Words start spilling from my mouth. “I worked at this bar. A guy got shitfaced and started shouting, then started smashing things and his fist into people, and I…”
Freaked out. Lost my shit. Lost my mind. Lost time.
Then I thought I saw someone in the crowd, someone who shouldn’t be alive, shouldn’t be here, and started throwing punches right and left, trying to get out.
“Shit, forget I said anything.” I start to pull away. What the fuck am I doing, telling her this? I didn’t even tell J, and he knows how fucked-up I am. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” she says, and I glance up at her. There’s a fire now in her eyes, and I can’t look away. “It does matter. Sounds like it wasn’t your fault. You shouldn’t have been fired.”
“Life sucks,” I inform her, just in case she doesn’t know. Why would a pretty, nice girl like her know, anyway? “Life isn’t fucking fair. That’s how it is.”
“You could sue the owner. You could—”
“No.” I take a step back and shake my head. “It’s fine.”
It’s humiliating enough as it is. Don’t need to rehash it in court. And I wouldn’t win.
Plus, Joel would find out about it. Bad enough that the moment I got a job at another bar, I got into a fight, and he had to come and drive me home because I caught a punch to the face and wasn’t so steady on my feet.
“We should head back,” she says.
We walk together toward the bookshop, and I don’t even know what just went down—why I confessed to her things not even Joel knows, why her touch can feel comforting as well as electric, why I’m still here… No clue what just happened.
Or why I don’t pull back when she catches my hand and gives it a squeeze before we enter the shop.
All I know is she feels good, too damn good, and I’m not ready to give her up.
PART II
It’s like taking candy from two tall, muscular, sexy as fuck hunks
Chapter Ten
CANDY
Title: Go Tantric
From Candy Boys (Blog serial)
“Suck me, Candy,” J-Two groans, sliding his cock against my lips. “You know you want it.”
Oh yeah. I do. I’m riding J-One, who’s on his knees, his big dick thrusting deep inside me, and I’m close to coming, my belly tightening as he rocks into me, the taste of J-Two’s precum on my lips.
I open my mouth and take him deep. He groans, fucking my mouth as J-One fucks my pussy, and it’s so good.
I think I’m getting into this tantric sex thing after all…
I screwed up.
I want them both.
Now they both seem hurt. How could I ever imagine they’d both turn out to be interested in me?
How was I to know that Joel would be back after our disastrous first date? I mean, was it even a date? It sure felt like one, until he backed away.
And then I didn’t expect Jethro to kiss me. Didn’t expect his mouth to be so hot and demanding, his grip so hard on my face, his gaze so vulnerable.
Didn’t expect his confession to cut me to the bone, and his beauty to root me to the spot. Not as classically handsome as Joel, he nevertheless draws me just as much. I want to touch and caress and feel his skin, I want to brush my lips over his eyelids an
d lips, learn more about him.
I didn’t expect this urge to protect him. A guy who’s at least six feet tall and fit and strong. There’s something broken in his gaze, and it hurts me to see it there.
I bet Joel knows what it means. Not that he’d tell me.
Lifting a batch of brand new romance books by Jennifer Armentrout, Jay Crownover and Sarina Bowen, Amy Jo Cousins and Garett Leigh, I place them lovingly on the shelf and straighten them, while thinking. Joel is so different from Jethro. Shoulders wider, jaw more square, gaze clearer and straightforward.
He’d started after Jethro who’d stormed away, asking what he was doing here, and I told him. He’d seemed surprised, but said it was good for Jethro.
He’s protective of his friend, too. I could hear it in his words, see it on his face.
And then he apologized for the other night, told me to go make sure Jethro was all right, and left.
Made me like him again. Like him more.
He put Jethro before himself. Made his friend a priority. How can you not love that? That a guy who looks like a cross between a quarterback and a male underwear model can be so concerned about his friend.
It makes my eyes burn suspiciously. Makes my heart beat more heavily.
I can’t let myself feel anything for Joel. It’s too soon. Too unrealistic. Sharing one hot kiss doesn’t mean anything.
And it doesn’t change the fact I’m still lusting after them both, and they have no clue.
Only Donna keeps throwing me narrowed-eyed looks, as if demanding to know what I’m playing at.
I wish I knew.
I doubt I’ll see Joel again. I also doubt Jethro will touch me again.
Shit.
Man, this really sucks…
***
But the bookstore door chimes the next day, and Joel enters, bearing coffee and donuts.
“Candy, I’m home!” he calls out, grinning a manic grin, and I can’t help but laugh. “How’s my nerdy girl today?”
Unexpectedly a lump forms in my throat. I am so frigging happy he’s back.
Stupid, I know. I barely know him. Barely like him. But he’s been with me—in my imagination, at least—for so long, the thought of losing him so soon hurt.
“Hey.” He puts down the coffees—an extra one for Jethro today, I notice—and puts his hands on my shoulders—warm, heavy. “I’m sorry, okay? Didn’t mean to get between you two.”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“You like Jet. So I’ll step down.” He’s looking earnestly into my eyes, and I’m sinking in blue. “Jet always tells me I’m an arrogant bastard. I want him… I need him to be happy. He deserves it. Just tell me you want him, too, and I’ll leave you in peace.”
Oh God. Oh my God. I can’t even. I can’t speak. The lump in my throat has grown so big it’s cutting off my breath. He’s sweeter than I thought. Selfless. How can I not fall for him all over again?
And what can I do now?
“Candy?” He searches my face with his eyes, then leans forward and brushes his mouth over mine. Scorching me, making me shiver from head to toe. His hands slide up my back to the back of my neck, cradling my head, crushing our mouths together. “Oh fuck,” he whispers against my mouth.
He slowly pulls away, his eyes dark like the night. His broad chest is rising and falling rapidly, and there’s a bulge at his crotch that’s very eye-catching. Prominent.
Not that I’m looking. Just saying. Besides, my glasses are fogging over. Not that I’m burning to fall into him, climb onto his lap and grind myself on his hard-on.
Maybe I should release my death-hold on his arms.
“Is that your answer?” He licks his lips, and all I can think of is kissing him again. “Your choice?”
Is it? “Jethro doesn’t want me that way,” I mutter.
His brows draw together. “He told you that?”
“No,” I admit. “He didn’t.”
The opposite, in fact. He said he wants me. That wanting me is his issue. He pulled away, because Joel wants me.
And now Joel is doing the same to spare his friend’s feelings.
Joel is watching me carefully, and before I speak again, he nods as if understanding something. “I thought so,” he says. “I won’t hurt him, Candy. I won’t.”
Then he turns around and leaves, and I sink into the armchair in a daze.
My life has suddenly turned into a soap opera. I want two guys, and I can’t be with either of them without destroying their friendship.
They won’t allow it.
I wouldn’t want that, either.
So this is it. I thought the worst thing about my fantasy was the fact that it was so distant. That I didn’t know these two guys up close and personal. That I’d never like them in person. Never stand a chance of either of them wanting me.
Never imagined how much worse it would be to find out they do want me, that they both want me—only apart, and then perhaps, and then never.
***
“That’s a huge boost to one’s ego,” Connie writes back that night when I tell her what happened. “Go you!”
Only my ego doesn’t feel that boosted. I don’t feel that lucky.
They won’t risk their friendship. So they pass me, from one to the other, like a ball. Then I get upset and think—what about what I want? But I get it. They barely know me. They’ve been besties for years. And it’s sweet, but I wish… I wish I could get one night with them both, just to see what it’s like.
But it’s not in the cards, and accepting it is the only way to go. So I post another review on my blog of one of Jade West’s darkly sexy romances and try to write another scene on my serial—only to stop short when I picture my two fantasy boyfriends.
That’s what I always do when I write about them, only now their faces are crystal clear, their voices loud inside my head. They are real. So real I can’t… write about them.
Oh crap, I have writer’s block. Reality is blocking me. It hurts as if I’ve lost them twice—both in real life and my imagination.
The next day I walk around like a zombie, my brain still in shock from the realization, trying to come to grips with the fact that I am stranded without a sexy imaginary lifeboat. It’s… scary. I’ve been escaping to my fantasy world for years now.
What am I gonna do?
Joel comes in, bringing coffee, and I flee to the back of the shop, hiding. Then Jethro comes looking for me, and I wish I could sink through the floor.
Maybe I should look for work elsewhere. Seeing them every day, knowing what I can’t have, is so much harder than I thought.
“Donna wants to see you,” he says and slips his arm around my shoulders. His dark eyes are sharp on me. “And Joel is asking how you are. Why is he asking that?”
“Tell him I’m fine. And I’ll go to see Donna.” I extract myself from his hold. “In a bit.”
“Candy.” His voice caresses my name, and I shudder—with want, with frustration. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just…” He reaches for me again, grips my wrist and pulls me close to him. I’m lost in his scent of male musk and clean soap. “Just confused.”
“About what?” My hands have ended up on his hard chest, his heart thudding under my palms, and his voice rumbles through his ribcage. “I thought you wanted Joel.”
He didn’t tell him anything? “I…yeah.”
“He started spewing some stupid crap about you wanting to be with me, but he’s an idiot. I told him, it’s him you want. And he has wanted you since he first saw you.” A flash goes through his eyes, a dark bolt of lightning. “So it’s all set.”
“Set for what?” I push against his chest and take a step back. What a mess. “Got to go.”
I all but run to Donna’s office, slamming the door shut behind me and leaning back against it, like in a bad horror flick.
Can I be just friends with these two boys? Can I ignore the way my body reacts to them, the way I get wet from their sce
nt, from the heat of their bodies? Can I forget what I really want from them and convince myself to take what I can?
“Candy.” Donna is staring at me as I pant and huff, sweat trickling down my neck. “What in the world is going on? Is Godzilla after you? Should we hide under the desk?”
“We totally should,” I agree, because I’ve heard that miracles do happen. “And pray that I won’t make a fool of myself and tell the boys the truth.”
***
“Just tell them,” Donna insists as I leave her office, after checking the way outside to make sure no fantasy boyfriend is lurking.
“Oh, sure. Didn’t you notice how they won’t do a thing to hurt their friendship? Now I’m going to casually ask them to… no. I’ll lose them both.”
“You don’t have them now, Candy.”
She has a point. “I could be friends with—”
“It won’t work. You want them too much.”
Again, point. “I can’t work with Jethro if I do more than I—”
“You invited him to take the job.”
I whirl on her. “Will you stop being right for one second?” I wag my finger at her. “I fucked up, okay? I never thought he’d apply for the job. Never thought you’d take him. Never thought Joel would keep coming with coffee and kisses. Never thought Jethro would want anything from me.”
“In short, you never gave this a single thought.”
Shit. “I just… never thought this could happen for real. I mean, them and me? Ridiculous.”
“Yep.”
“Thank you.” I glare at her. “Jealous much?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” She does that tongue-flicking thing again, and I’d laugh if I wasn’t so tense. “I mean, look at those guys. Totally, one hundred percent eye-candy. Nice, too. Nicer than I thought they’d be.”
Yeah. She’s right again.
Damn.
***
The next day tests my resolve and the boundaries of my sanity.
They’re both shaky.
The reason is Jethro, who’s sorting through our newest arrivals. I watch in a sort of trance as he bends over and lifts stacks of books, muscles shifting and bunching in his ass, his legs, his arms…
My face is growing warm. Heat spills down my belly, pooling between my legs. His dark hair curls a little at the back of his pale neck. He has a smudge on his cheek, and the ink on his arms flashes as he moves.