Gripping the counter behind me, I barely squeak out my next word. “Sage . . .”
That’s it. That’s all I have.
It does nothing to stop her. She hooks her fingers into my shorts and pulls them down my legs, revealing my erection, the cold air feeling good against my heated body.
Gliding her hands up my toned thighs, she stares at my cock as she says, “You’re so big, Colby.”
And I’m going to be even bigger the minute she puts her mouth on me.
Pre-cum covers the head of my cock from having her this damn close, from seeing her in her lingerie, and from watching the way she carefully licks her lips.
“I’m not very good at this . . .”
“No one can be bad at it,” I say, feeling like an insensitive prick, but with every little breath she takes, my cock grows harder. Mustering something a little more sensitive, I say, “You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.”
She brings her hands higher up my thighs, her tentativeness just about killing me, and when her hand connects with my cock, I nearly shoot my hips forward from the contact.
“So big,” she mumbles, moving her hand over the pre-cum and working it up and down my length.
Leaning forward, she licks her lips and I hold my damn breath, all my attention and feeling drawn to the center of my body, waiting for that one little touch.
Her pretty pink lips spread and her tongue peeks out. Jesus Christ, she’s going at a snail’s pace, but because I don’t want to make this a bad experience for her, I stay still, letting her take her time. Meanwhile, I’m fighting a war against myself inside. My orgasm is building at the base of my spine, and she hasn’t even done anything.
But the way her breath passes over my cock, to the shaky grip she has on me, I’m ready to pump a few times and call it a night.
I press my lips together, trying to avoid shouting at her out of pure desperation. I need release, so fucking bad. If neither Sage nor Ryan had come over tonight, I would have already yanked one out and gone to bed.
And even though Sage is here, the real deal, tongue about to lick my shaft, I’m so fucking impatient that this is pure torture.
I count to ten, breathing with each count, hoping and praying that she lowers her mouth soon.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Her tongue presses against the underside of my cock and drags up to the tip, pressing at the head, swirling, around and around.
Holy fuck. My eyes widen, my hips accidentally thrust forward, the tension in my body immediately settling into the pit of my stomach where it builds with each swipe of her tongue.
One of her hands tugs gently on my balls and that’s my undoing. I suck in a sharp breath just as she brings the entire head of my cock into her mouth and sucks hard.
“Fuck,” I grumble, eyes shut, my legs going numb, my impending orgasm at the precipice of taking me over. “Fucking hell, Sage.” My hips move forward, her hand squeezes, her tongue swirls. “Christ,” I let out another long breath just before she squeezes my balls, sending my hips into a frenzy. “Shit, I’m going to come.”
Stepping out of her reach, I turn away and place my hand on my cock to start pumping when she stands behind me and stops me. She presses a kiss against my back and then moves my hand away. “Let me,” she says right before gripping my cock hard. She pumps—relentlessly—and her lips trail kisses up and down my skin. The feel of her soft breasts against my back . . . it’s, God, so good. I want my mouth on them. I want to fuck them. Her smooth hands moving up and down my cock. Oh fuck . . . so hot. Her lips, which were just on my cock . . . And then I’m coming. My orgasm tears through me like a tidal wave, sending me into a state of bliss.
I rest my hand against the counter, holding myself up for support. I can hear Sage move around me, but am slow to notice she has her coat back on until she’s standing in front of me, a huge smile on her face.
Standing on her toes, she kisses my lips softly and says, “I’m going to head back.”
“But . . . I need to take care of you.” I have to catch my breath.
She shakes her head. “No, I want my first orgasm to be in your bed.”
I chuckle. “I thought the room didn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t, but it’s what I want. Night, Colby.” She presses another kiss to my lips.
And before I can gather enough strength to stop her, she’s out the door, leaving me completely sated . . . for now.
* * *
Casually, Ryan comes trailing into the kitchen, wearing her outfit from last night, her hair a bit of a mess, and last night’s makeup still on her face. She smiles at me, struts to the coffee maker, and pours herself a cup with the mug I left out for her.
She leans against the counter, a smile on her face. “So, tell me about last night.”
“What about it?” I ask, keeping my eyes trained on my phone, reading about the news, or at least trying to.
“Oh, come on. The girl was dressed in a trench coat and she had lady-on-the-prowl in her eyes.”
“She did not.”
“She soooo did. And even though you like to think this house is soundproof, it’s not, so I totally heard your orgasm sounds.”
“How do you know—” I stop myself, stupid question. “I stubbed my toe, that’s what you heard.”
She tilts her head back and laughs while helping herself up on the counter, feet dangling, mug halfway to her mouth, where she blows on the hot liquid. “Be straight with me, Colby.”
Relenting, I set my phone down and sit back in my chair. “We might have done something in the bathroom.”
“Yeah, now we’re talking.” She nods her head. “Tell me all about it.” What the fuck?
“No.”
She points her finger at me. “Oh no, you don’t. Don’t you dare start pulling that annoying one-worded answer shit on me.”
“I’m not going to give you the details.”
“Why not?”
“Out of respect for Sage.”
She rolls her eyes. “Come on, if I was a guy you totally would have told me by now. Just picture me with a penis and tell me.”
I wince. “Not an image I want to conjure up, Ryan.”
“Just tell me,” she replies exasperated. “Or I’m going to start guessing, and I have some wild thoughts in my head.”
“Christ, please don’t. She just . . . you know . . .” I let out an embarrassed sigh. Why is this so damn hard? “She . . . blew me.” The words slip off my tongue, feeling so fucking awkward that I run my hand down my face, unable to look Ryan in the eyes.
“Nice.” She nods. “Good for Sage. Coming over here and taking what she wants. Props to your girl.”
“You don’t think this is weird? Talking about this stuff?”
“Why? Because we’ve had sex?” She dismissively waves her hand. “Not even a little. We’re adults and friends, and what we did in the past means nothing. I’d rather focus on now and you know . . .” She bites her bottom lip, looking shy. “I’d rather focus on our friendship.”
My brow lifts. “Friendship?”
“Don’t make fun of me. I can see it in your eyes. I don’t have any friends here really. Leah is cool, but she’s all tied up with this Tyler guy she’s seeing, and the other girls who are part of the show kind of put me in the wrong headspace. I need some healthy relationships.”
Wrong headspace? What’s that about? I want to ask her, I want her to elaborate but then again, now might not be the time.
Continuing, she says, “And you know we do have fun together.”
“Do we?”
Taking a sip of her coffee, she hops off the counter and sits at the table, stealing a sliced apple from my plate, making herself right at home. And I don’t mind it. For some reason, it almost feels right, like Ryan is supposed to be here in my house right now, proposing friendship and eating my food, like everything we’ve been through leading to this moment was the culminati
on of starting a new friendship, one I can see lasting a really long time.
“You know we do. Remember our trip up Pikes Peak? That was a good time. We could have more fun moments like that, strictly platonic of course.”
“Obviously.”
She’s silent for a second before showing a hint of vulnerability. “I need someone I can count on, Colby. You were that person last night, and I’m super grateful for it. I know your schedule is crazy and you’re dating Sage, so what spare time you have is for her, but if you can carve out maybe a little time to at least talk, that would be cool.”
And just like that, I know I’ll be able to keep my promise. What Ryan asked took courage, and if she has the guts to put herself out there—ask for friendship—there is no uncertainty in my mind. I like her. I like her a lot, and I know she is someone I want in my corner too. My fearless, crazy friend. I will always be her rock.
Always.
Wanting to keep the situation light, I roll up my napkin and shoot it at her, hitting her in the forehead. She smiles at me as I say, “I think this is the beginning of one hell of a friendship.”
Chapter Twenty
RYAN
Sitting in a director’s chair, I stare at my phone, scrolling through Instagram as music booms around me, Frank Sinatra setting the mood for the final act of the show. Everyone has been gussied up, and my job for the night is done. I should be cleaning my brushes and packing up, but I take a second to breathe.
Doing makeup for a variety show is a little more stressful than I expected. The amount of eyelashes I have to keep reapplying during dress changes is incredible, and man, are some of the girls bitchy. Perhaps that’s a given. I’d be bitchy too if I had to prance around with what looks like a Christmas tree on the top of my head while wearing a bikini, not to mention four-inch heels. That can’t be comfortable.
“Are you packing soon?” Chance, the stage director asks me.
I glance up, paused on an Instagram video of someone making scallops and capers. I can’t cook to save my life, but I can watch videos on how things are made.
“I think so. Just taking a breather. Amanda was a bit of a raving bitch today.” It’s okay to say this to Chance, because he deals with the girls all the time and has his own moments with their antics.
“She auditioned for Frozen, the musical, and didn’t make it, so she’s taking it out on all of us.”
“She can sing?”
“I guess not well.” He winks then presses his hand to his ear where an earpiece is propped up. He rolls his eyes and says, “I have to go tend to something. See you tomorrow.”
I give him a wave and turn back to my phone just as a text comes in.
Colby.
What the hell is he doing texting me? He’s in the crowd with Sage and the boys.
The boys. It’s what I call them now, because it’s a lot quicker than saying Bent, Balboa, Rowdy, and Colt.
I open his text message.
Colby: How much do those headdresses weigh? We have a bet to see who guessed right. Winner picks dessert.
With the flying and training schedule these guys have, it’s almost impossible to plan something, but luckily I was able to finally get everyone tickets. We decided we’d get dessert afterward. It wouldn’t look like it, but all the guys have a serious sweet tooth, well, besides Bent, as he’s in his own league of eating.
Ryan: It’s unfair that I’ve been nixed out of the chance to pick dessert.
Not that I have any idea of where we would go, but it’s nice to be put in the running.
Colby: I can see how that’s disappointing.
Ryan: So . . .
Colby: So you’re still out. How much does the headdress weigh?
Ryan: Oh no. There is no way in hell I’m telling you that now. Not when I’ve been completely eliminated from chances of picking dessert.
Colby: You’re being difficult, like always. Just tell us.
Ryan: No.
Colby: You’re fucking frustrating, you know that?
I chuckle to myself and type him back.
Ryan: You should really be watching the show. Kick lines are some riveting stuff.
Colby: Colt apparently has laid dibs on the redhead.
Ryan: That’s Amanda. I highly suggest he stays away. She is not very nice.
Colby: I’m pretty sure “nice” isn’t what he cares about.
Ryan: He’s such a pervert.
Colby: Stop deferring and tell us the weight of the damn headdress.
Relentless. Once he has his mind set on something, he doesn’t let up until he gets it. It’s a very annoying attribute, especially for a stubborn, hardheaded person like myself.
Ryan: Make it good for me and I will tell you.
The dots on the phone start to jump but pause, and I can only image what’s going on in row twenty right now. I can see it in my mind. All the guys leaning in, trying to decide how to accommodate my demands. I might not be able to date any of them, or really want to date any of them, but I still kind of have them wrapped around my finger . . . and I like that.
The dots start jumping again and his text is sent.
Colby: Rowdy said if he wins, he’ll let you pick.
Ryan: What was Rowdy’s answer?
Colby: Did you think I was born yesterday? I’m not stupid, Ryan. If I tell you, that’s what you’ll answer. We wrote down all of our answers.
Ryan: Okay, then to make this truly fair, I’ll reveal the answer when you guys meet me backstage.
Colby: Did I mention you’re frustrating?
Ryan: Multiple times a day. See you soon!
* * *
“There she is, the belle of the ball,” Rowdy calls out, walking up to me and wrapping me in a giant hug. Before he can say anything, Colby tears him away out of my grasp.
“Don’t even try to tell her what weight you guessed. Actually, just turn around and don’t look at her. Don’t even try to mouth to her your answer or use your fingers. Hands are in pockets.”
“What about counting off in stomps, is that prohibited too?”
“Go wait in the car.” Colby points to the side while Sage comes up to me and gives me a hug.
“Thank you so much for the tickets. The show was amazing.”
I squeeze her back. Colby’s face softens when he sees me embrace his girl. “Of course I’m glad you all could make it. And you had fun?”
“So much fun,” Sage answers, stepping back into Colby’s embrace. “But we’re dying to know, how much do the headdresses weigh?” She’s bouncing on her toes, so excited.
“Do you have the paper with the answers?”
Colby pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and holds it up. “Tell us the answer and then I’ll show you the paper.”
“You know, Colby, I never realized how competitive you are. It’s not a very attractive side of you.”
“Just give us the answer.”
Sage pats his chest. “He really wants to win. There’s some giant cannoli he’s been really wanting to try.”
“It’s like three fucking feet long. When are we ever going to share that together? Let’s just see what Ryan says, and then we can reveal our desserts. Closest to the number gets to pick, but if you go over, you’re out.”
“Like The Price is Right?” I ask. Colby nods, a smile on his face. “All right. Drum roll please?” Colt rolls his eyes, but Rowdy plays along as he makes a drum-roll sound. I can always count on Rowdy. “The headdresses at the end of the show weigh about twenty-five pounds each.”
“No way.” Colt throws his hands up and protests.
Rowdy shakes his head in disappointment, and Bent and Balboa both give a quick salute and thank you before taking off, leaving a very happy-looking Colby and a very sad-looking Sage.
“Let me guess, you said twenty-five pounds?” I ask Colby.
He flips the paper around in his fingers and shows me the top name.
Colby. Twenty-five pounds.
The fucker kn
ew all along.
Staring me in the eyes, he says, “I hope you like cannoli.” It’s a friendly challenge. This wasn’t my idea, and yet I got roped into it. No idea why.
“What about the other guys, they just left?”
“They’re watching their figures.”
“So am I.” I prop my hands on my hips.
“No, you’re not.” Colby wraps his arm around my shoulders and starts guiding Sage and me out the back door of the theater, Rowdy following closely behind. “Let’s go eat some cannoli.”
Bending forward, Sage catches my eye and says, “I don’t think you know how happy he is right now. This is all he’s been talking about lately. This damn cannoli. I think he set us all up.”
The smirk on Colby’s face lets me believe maybe he did.
* * *
“I have to hand it to you, man, this was a good fucking idea.” Rowdy takes a sip of his coffee and leans over to shake Colby’s hand. Colby takes his hand and gives it a few good pumps before letting it go. “And who knew there would be little cannoli inside the giant cannoli? Genius.” Rowdy kisses his fingers and tosses them in the air.
I can’t stand him right now.
But, I chuckle at his antics.
I will admit, it’s a damn good dessert. I’ve only had one piece though because frankly, I don’t want to have to spend two hours in the gym tomorrow morning working off more.
“Do you like it, Sage?” Colby asks, his arm stretched behind her.
Cutely, she licks her fingers and nods. “It’s so good. My idea was to go to one of those self-serve ice cream places with all the toppings, but this was such a better idea. Did you send a picture to the other guys?”
Colby nods. “They sent a picture back holding up bottles of beer.”
“Clearly they don’t know what they’re missing out on,” I add, eyeing another cannoli piece but chastising myself. That’s old Ryan. She would have eaten more, but new Ryan doesn’t eat excessively.
The Left Side of Perfect Page 17