by T Gephart
It wasn’t.
And I might not have any idea what the hell I was doing but I knew that.
“Okay.” North rolled his palms down the front of his pants. “I knew the minute I saw Quinn that she was different. First it was attraction, because unlike you and Tessa, I didn’t know her. But all it took was five minutes talking to her in that coffee shop and I knew I had to see her again. She was different, so I was different. That’s how I knew. And Tibbs, the fact we’re even having this conversation tells me things are different with you. So, tell her.”
His advice was solid, and while I expected nothing less, it was still reassuring to hear it. “Thanks, dude. I’m going to give her a call. I’ll get out of your apartment so you can tell Quinn all my secrets.”
“Good man!” North slapped me on the back and grinned. “But if you think she hasn’t been listening the whole time, you clearly don’t know my wife.”
“It’s more efficient that way.” Quinn’s voice came from the other room.
We both laughed, amused she hadn’t even tried to pretend she hadn’t been eavesdropping. But that was Quinn for you, unapologetic. A lot like Tessa. And damn if that wasn’t attractive.
I said goodbye to North and Quinn, leaving them to play happy family and headed back to my car. I had a choice to make, and all three of my options had the potential to suck.
One, I could call Tessa, knowing she had another day off, and tell her I was in the neighborhood and risk her telling me she didn’t want to see me.
Two, show up unannounced, not giving her the opportunity to turn me down but potentially think I was a stalker with boundary issues.
And lastly, three, go home, obsess about it some more, and wait for her to call me. But it could be a while and with our conflicting schedules, who knew when we’d get the opportunity again to hang out. Or she might not even call at all, thinking I would.
I shook my head, slipping into the driver’s seat of my Impala and picking up my phone.
“Tibbs?” She answered on the second ring.
“Hey, I’m at North’s but I want to see you.” I put the car into drive, hesitating before easing away from the curb. “You going to call the cops if I show up on your doorstep?”
She laughed, sighing softly into the phone. “You think I’d let anyone else have the glory? Tibbs, please, you should know me better than that. I am the cops, if anyone is arresting you, it’s going to be me. How soon can you be here?”
I felt myself smile, grinning like an idiot just from hearing her voice. “Depends, you going to cite me for speeding if I do it? Or is there some way I can talk myself out of a ticket.”
“Just get here, wiseass. But try and keep the moving violations to a minimum.”
Which meant I could break some laws.
“Got it, be there soon, Ricci.”
“I’ll be waiting, Tibbs.”
Tessa
IT HAD BEEN twelve hours.
That was it.
Twelve hours since Tibbs had left my apartment and I invited him right back.
“Such a bad idea,” I said to myself as I paced. “This is such a bad idea.”
But for all my audible protesting, I couldn’t get behind the sentiment. I didn’t really believe it was a bad idea, wanting to see him as much as he apparently wanted to see me.
We’d shared one—really intense—kiss.
And for the rest of the day he’d kept his hands and lips mostly to himself.
If it were anyone else, I’d assume he had a change of heart—or just wasn’t that into me—and was moving himself into the friend category. But in all the time I’d known him, he’d never wasted his time or his effort. And he didn’t usually change his mind when it came to sex. I’d even overheard him say that sex was like pizza, and even bad pizza was still worth having. So either he’d suddenly taken a vow of celibacy—abandoning all his previous thoughts and feelings—or his lack of action was deliberate.
I knew where my money was.
For whatever reason, he’d decided that he wasn’t going to try to sleep with me. At least not yesterday. Which was amusing and adorable all at the same time.
“Hey.” He grinned, pushing his keys into his pocket as I opened the door. He’d buzzed minutes before, my stomach in knots as I’d waited.
“Hey, yourself.” I stepped aside so he could walk into my apartment. “Did you forget something yesterday? Why the sudden need—”
He didn’t let me finish, answering with his lips against mine. It was hot and desperate, my hand moving quickly to close the door before threading in his hair. He felt so good, his body pressed against mine as he kissed me, a small whimper making its way up my throat.
“I needed to do this,” he mumbled between kisses. “I thought about it every second since I left, and it was driving me insane.”
I didn’t even care that I was right, too busy kissing him back to have time to gloat. I’d wanted it as well, desperate for another kiss even though I knew it would be hard to stop.
But it wasn’t hard, it was impossible, my mouth opening and giving him access as he reached for my ass and lifted me off the floor.
“You’re driving me crazy,” I moaned, closing my eyes as he carried me toward the couch. It was where the madness had started, and I had a hunch, where it would continue.
“Tessa,” his mouth moved to my neck, fevered kisses tracing the length of my throat, “I’m—”
“Stop talking, Justin.” I felt his hard-on against my stomach, the pressure between my legs building. “I want more.”
Yesterday, I’d had every intention of resisting him. There was still an attraction, sure, but I was positive I wasn’t going to be another conquest for him.
Even though he was charming, and funny, and so goddamn sexy.
Then, I entered into negotiations with myself, reasoning that maybe if it were on my terms, it would be okay. What was the harm? And when did I start defining myself by the people I slept with?
And also, why the hell was I so judgmental?
“Say my name again,” he begged, his fingers wrapping around the hem of my T-shirt as he laid me on the soft cushions of the couch. “Say it, Tessa.”
“Justin,” I moaned, arching into him. He felt so good, his mouth moving expertly from my lips to my neck, making my skin tingle everywhere he kissed.
His body hovered over mine, his knee between my legs as an arm braced the back of the couch. The other hand moved up my side, pushing up the fabric of my top and exposing my bare skin.
My fingers were busy as well, grabbing his T-shirt and pulling it off, our kisses interrupted by the need to get us both out of our clothes.
“Mmmmm.” His lips dropped to the edge of my sports bra, kissing the band along my chest. “This thing is so fucking sexy.”
It wasn’t in me to argue again, because I really didn’t care. My mind was unreasonably busy focusing on what his hands were doing and how good his mouth was making me feel. “Tibbs, that—”
“Justin, call me Justin,” he groaned, pressing his thigh right against my clit.
My hips rocked, unable to stop them as the pressure built between my legs. “Right there, Justin. Oh my God, right there.”
I wasn’t even embarrassed, too desperate to release the pent-up frustration I’d been nursing since he left me the night before. I’d thought about that first kiss all night, dreamt about it and woke up wet just from the memory. I wasn’t sure if I’d get the opportunity again so I was making the most of it.
“Yes, Tessa.” His voice raw as he moved his leg, building more friction. “I’ll give you whatever you want, baby. God, you look so beautiful like this.”
My hands locked on his hips, pulling him down so his whole body was against me. His thigh was good, but I was taking him at his word that he’d give me whatever I wanted. And what I wanted was more of him.
“Jesus, Tessa,” he chuckled as he pressed the hard ridge of his cock against my core. “Better?”
&n
bsp; He didn’t make a move to undo my pants, or me his, our bodies moving against each other as we found each other’s mouths.
My leg wrapped around his hip as his hand went to my ass, both of us chasing a high as I felt my pants get wetter. It was so hot, and I was so turned on, making out with Justin Tibbs feeling better than the last real sex I’d had.
“I want to make you come, Tessa. I want to see what you look like when you unravel.” His other hand moved to my sports bra, palming my breast as I felt him get even harder between my legs.
“Okay,” I shuttered out on a shaky breath, completely on board with making me come. It was a fantastic suggestion and one I was immediately a fan of. “Fuck, Justin, right there.”
“Mmmmmm, yeah, right there works for me too,” he panted against my neck, my skin feeling electric under his breath.
It wasn’t just me who was desperate to come, his cock straining against the fly of his jeans as he rocked against me. I loved that he was so turned on as well, the desperation in his hips as he chased his release while wanting to give me mine.
He felt so hard and thick, the length of him impressive. And as much as I didn’t want to stop what we were doing, I was desperate to touch him. “I want to feel you,” I breathed, trying to make the words come out right as we writhed against each other. “I want to touch your cock, Justin.”
“Fuuuuuuucccckk,” he groaned out, reaching down and steadying my hips. “You have any idea how hot that sounds? You’re going to make me come, Tessa. And that’s not happening until after you do.”
My hand pressed against the fly of his jeans, moving my palm against his length. “But I want to feel you, wrap my fingers around you, squeezing you as I jerk you off.”
I was never shy about asking for what I wanted, especially not in bed, unwilling to lay there and not participate. And what I wanted at that moment, was to touch Justin.
His mouth pressed against mine, swallowing the rest of my argument as his hand dropped between us. The weight against me lifted, the telltale sound of a zipper being lowered, breaking the silence.
Excitement flooded me, my fingers reaching down to meet his and discovering it was my jeans he’d unzipped. “I wanted—”
“Yeah, and I heard you. But I said I’m making you come first, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
Waiting for me to nod, he slid his hand against my cotton panties as a hard breath blew from between my lips. His ability to maneuver a situation to get his way was impressive to say the least.
“Justin.” His name escaped my mouth as his fingers breeched the edge of my underwear. The softest touch made contact with my clit, my body bowing off the couch.
It felt so good, the pad of his thumb rubbing tight circles against me as I sucked in shaky breaths. He was teasing, the movements slow and controlled with a level of discipline I wasn’t aware he possessed.
“More,” I breathed, circling my hips in an effort to get more friction, but he didn’t deviate, keeping his rhythm and ignoring my desperate thrusts.
It was delicious, the slow burn inching up my spine as my nerve endings sizzled. He was drawing it out, taking his time as he kissed my neck, dropping his mouth to the tops of my tits, alternating his kisses between my body and my mouth.
I wanted more, needed more, and wanted to touch him too. And since he was distracted, I was able to use it to my advantage.
Unable to stop my hands any longer, they undid his button and then his zipper. He moaned as I palmed him through the cotton of his boxer briefs, my fingernails grazing against his shaft as I slid under his waistband.
“Tessa,” he warned, his kisses only stopping to hiss out my name.
But I was already committed, wrapping my hand around and giving him a firm, tight tug.
“Jesus,” he cursed out, his hips thrusting as I slid up and down again.
We were still mostly clothed, only our T-shirts laying on the floor, reminiscent of the day before. I wanted us naked, to feel and see all of him, but couldn’t make myself stop long enough to make it happen. And clearly it wasn’t a priority for him either, his hand buried inside my panties and his fingers doing the most amazing things to my pussy.
“You’re terrible at following orders, your captain must love you.” He tried to laugh, the words coming out strained as I continued to stroke him.
My hips circled against his touch, wanting the release so much and not wanting it over. “I only follow orders that make sense—yours don’t.”
We stopped talking, neither of us capable of forming sentences any longer as hands and mouths launched a full-on assault. I teetered, my fingernails clawing at the edge of a cliff as he gave up the teasing and thrust two fingers inside of me.
That was all it took.
My body convulsed as I came hard, my grip on his cock tightening as I somehow managed to continue to stroke him. I wasn’t even sure if that was what I was doing, my movements—like my body—a jerky mess.
“Tessa,” he cursed out, a stream of yeses following my name as he pulsed, jets of cum spilling onto my stomach.
Fingers loosened their grip, my body twitching as we both rode our orgasms, pressed together in a heated, sticky and panting mess.
“That wasn’t the plan,” he chuckled against my ear, his lips making their way back to my mouth as he eased off me. “I just wanted to kiss you again.”
“Well, I’d say you did that.” My fingers reached up and traced his face. “And we established a while ago you have terrible impulse control.”
“Me?” he scoffed. “You started this, Ricci. I was trying to be a gentleman.”
And there it was, proof that for whatever reason, he’d been trying not to sleep with me. Even with the kissing, and the touching—he hadn’t tried to turn it into sex.
“Why?” I asked, curious as to his motivations and what about me made things different.
He shook his head, kissing me softly. “Because I want a second date, Tessa. And another one after that too.”
“You want to date me?” I hadn’t meant to sound so surprised, but the idea of Justin Tibbs dating anyone, let alone me, wasn’t something I’d thought I’d ever see. “Tibbs, are you sure that’s what you want? And don’t just say it because you think that’s what I want to hear. I’m a big girl, I can appreciate this for what it is.”
I was fully aware of what I was getting involved in. And while I really liked the friendship that was blossoming, I was under no delusions it was anything more. I hadn’t even seen Tibbs with the same girl—let alone a girlfriend—in at least two years. And I’d rather he just be honest with me than pretend in an effort to save my feelings.
It was his turn to be shocked, scooting up to a sitting position as he looked at me. “Umm, why would you say that? What did you think I was doing here?”
“I thought . . .” I bit my lip, wondering if being honest was the right way to go. Because honestly, I wasn’t sure. “I don’t know.”
It was confusing.
And mostly because I was confused as well. I’d been so sure that I wasn’t going to cross the line with him and what did it take me? A day? Two? Barely a week since he tried to pick me up in a bar to us dry humping in my apartment. And as much as I thought I had amazing powers of resistance—my will power unsurpassed—I knew it was only a matter of time before I slept with him. I was attracted to him. And he was obviously attracted to me.
But a relationship.
A boyfriend?
To even suggest either of those things would be ridiculous because even he hadn’t said that. He’d said date, and there was a better-than-average possibility that word meant totally different things to both of us. And I wasn’t going to make myself look even stupider than I already felt.
“So if you don’t know, can you accept that maybe I do?” His brow scrunched like he wasn’t totally convinced either. “I want another date, Tessa.”
A date.
There was that word again.
My lips lifted in
what I hoped didn’t look like a fake smile, the sentiment not quite there. “Sure, Tibbs. I’d like that.” It wasn’t a lie, wanting to see him again. “Why don’t we get cleaned up and talk about it some more,” I offered, still not sure of the definition.
He smiled, looking down at my belly and seeing the mess he’d made. “Yeah, we should definitely get cleaned up first. You want to go get a shower? I can wait.”
“Suuuuuuuure.” I nodded, grabbing my T-shirt off the floor and wiping up the mess. “There’s beer in the fridge if you want it and I have the premium cable package.” I picked up the remote, watching as he adjusted himself and zipped up.
It was weird.
Even though it had been exactly what I’d wanted, the after was definitely strange. But I seemed to be the only one feeling it, Tibbs walking over to my kitchen sink, washing his hands and drying off with a paper towel before returning to the couch.
“I’ll be fine, Ricci. Go get cleaned up. Then we’ll go out for lunch. But this time we’re going to my hood, no offense.”
He was so cool, calm and collected. As if he fingered women to orgasm every single day right before heading out to lunch.
Shit.
Well . . . maybe he did.
There I was, wondering why I’d been different, but maybe I hadn’t been. I’d assumed he took women home, screwed them and then left, but I’d only been guessing. Because unless I’d been stalking him and peeking through his curtains—creepy—how the hell would I know?
Okay.
Okay.
Okay.
So jumping to conclusions wasn’t going to be helpful or productive. And since what had happened between us had been purely consensual, and I’d pretty much initiated the touching part, I couldn’t very well be angry about it. Hell, even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t, still feeling the buzz of the endorphins.
“Okay,” I said again. Out loud though, agreeing—with myself—that there was no point overthinking it. “We’ll go to Midtown. I’ll be quick.”
I shuffled off the couch, gripping my dirty T-shirt against my body as I headed to the bathroom.