More Than Friends

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More Than Friends Page 4

by Tabetha Thompson

“Well, my dear sweet Chloe and I have a little bet going on.” He turns to me. “Now, I’m going to flip this coin and you call it. Can you handle that, darlin’?”

  “Tom, quit with the dumb shit and flip the damn quarter. I hope you’ve got your song picked out for your performance.”

  “I sure do, love. I even picked out a song for you, just in case. Now shut up and call it.” Tom throws the coin in the air and I call heads. The damn coin lands on tails. I reckon that means I’m up first.

  Normally, only drunk girls use the bull. There’s a switch that actually lets you choose whether you want to make the person’s body sway seductively while riding or to make it like a real bull ride. Tom and Tanner tend to keep it on seductive while women are riding, insisting it’s good for business.

  I’ve ridden the bull so many times that I know its normal patterns. This should be an easy win for me. I mount the mechanical beast and stand up on the bull’s back. Tom barks out a laugh and taunts me. “You must really want to get on that stripper pole tonight!”

  With a shrug, I say, “Go big or go home, right?”

  With another laugh, he begins pushing buttons and the bull starts moving slowly. Big and Rich’s “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” plays over the bar’s speakers. Relaxing my body, I sway with its movements. It’s like surfing or riding one of those wooden planks that sits on top of a barrel you see at rodeos. You just have to keep your balance and anticipate its next move.

  The bull begins to move to the right and I drop down, press my thighs tight against the suede leather of the makeshift saddle, and grab the rope to hold on tight. Once I am settled, I tuck my dress between my thighs, not wanting to give anyone a peep show. The bull leans forward and I lean with it.

  As soon as the bull is vertical, it begins quickly jerking back and forth. Hugging the beast and leaning to the right, I spot Skye in my peripheral, leaning against the control station next to Tom. Shooting Tom a big smile, I blow him a kiss and then shoot him the bird. This gets the crowd pumped.

  He winks at me, leans over to Tanner, and whispers something in his ear. Tanner laughs and moves around the control board, flipping random switches. My little taunt costs me big and my ride is short lived. The bull pulls to the far right before jerking suddenly to the left, catching me off guard. I’m sent flying through the air and the inflatable mat below the bull breaks my fall.

  Tom clicks his tongue and looks at his watch. He can’t even wait for me to stand up before he starts giving me shit. “Three minutes, Chloe. I thought you could do better than that.”

  I shoot him a glare but keep my composure. “Well, I hope you can do better than three minutes or you’re going to disappoint a lot of ladies tonight.” Everyone gathered around the bull laughs, including Tom.

  “Oh, don’t you worry about me. I would never upset the ladies.” Tom takes my place on the bull as the song changes to Garth Brooks’ “Good Ride Cowboy.”

  “Thanks for keeping my seat warm,” he yells over the music.

  Tanner hits the switch on the control panel and, ever so slowly, the bull starts to move. When the bull leans forward, Tom leans back, and once the bull’s head is out of the way he blows me a kiss. Very slowly, the bull returns to its starting position, and just as slowly moves to the right. Tom lets go of the rope attached to the saddle and inspects his nails as if he’s bored.

  “Really?” I scream to no one in particular, throwing my hands in the air. The bar patrons laugh at my exasperation but Tom just winks. The bull starts moving to the left keeping its slow, gentle pace.

  I’ve had enough. I slowly back into the crowd and weave through the sweaty bodies, moving toward the control station to where Tanner is standing. He’s laughing and, with his attention completely on Tom, I’m able to easily slip my arm around him and turn the knob that increases the bull’s speed. Tom’s surprised scream is music to my ears.

  Tanner finally notices me beside him and grins broadly, backing away with his hands in mock surrender. “Chloe did it!” he screams to Tom while retreating.

  “Harley, what’s my time?” Tom yells. Harley looks at his phone and then back to Tom.

  “Three minutes fifty-six seconds.” Skye looks at me and shrugs.

  “Bullshit! Let me see that.” I grab his phone and stare at the stopwatch app. Two different times are displayed on the screen and sure enough he out rode me by almost a full minute.

  “That’s not fair! He cheated! The bull hardly moved the entire time he was on the damn thing!” I complain, getting the distinct feeling I’ve been set up.

  “Shit happens, Chloe. Don’t be a sore loser!” Tom shouts.

  I look around and see that I am not going to get any help. Everyone seems think the situation is hilarious. Instead of arguing a point I know I won’t win anyway, I cut my losses and walk away.

  As I’m walking away from the bull and into the crowd, I take notice of Brady and Skye. They’re sliding onto stools at the bar and women are flocking to them from every direction. Brady seems to be enjoying all the attention, laughing and flirting with the overly eager women. Skye, however, is looking directly over their heads and his green eyes are fixed on me.

  Paula Cole’s “Feelin’ Love” comes through the speakers. Apparently Skye knows this song as well as I do, because as soon as the song starts he raises one of his perfect dark brown eyebrows.

  I break eye contact and hide in the safety of the office. Once I’m tucked safely behind the closed door, I strip off all of my clothes except for my bra and barely-there black thong. Standing in front of the full mirror behind Tom’s desk, I study my reflection. I have come a long way from the girl that was once obese and hid in the bathrooms at lunch. I’ve worked hard to become who I am today, and I’m damn proud.

  The office door opens and fear floods my body, making my heart race. I drop to the floor to gather my discarded dress, staying hidden behind the desk. My heart thuds in my chest as footsteps come near and I look up as they stop right beside me. Skye has found me hidden behind Tom’s desk and his large hand reaches for me. My gaze jerks from his outstretched palm to his face. He looks amused to find me half-naked and hiding.

  Suddenly I feel brave and stand up straight, putting my hands on my hips. “What the fuck are you doing?” How dare he walk in on me like this?

  He looks taken aback for a moment. “Tom said he had some extra shirts and I came in here to get one. Some drunk girl spilled her beer all over me.” Sure enough, his shirt is soaked and smells of amber ale.

  Turning to the cabinet behind me, I open it and grab a shirt. When I turn back around, I come to the realization that I’ve just flashed him my ass. Oh dear God.

  I open my mouth to apologize, but no words come out as I take in the physical changes in him. The beautiful, tropical green color that previously dominated his eyes takes on a dangerous forest green. He licks his lips as he takes a step closer.

  The room starts to spin and I begin to feel light-headed. I take a step back and brace myself against the desk to steady myself. In a desperate attempt to look at anything but him, I avert my eyes to the floor, but my gaze stops near his hips. Oh my.

  I can easily make out the imprint of his erection. Even bound by his denim, it’s clear his length is impressive. Heat pools in my belly from just the thought of what could happen if I were to reach over, unzip his pants, and release him.

  My insides are trembling from a mixture of fear, lust, and adrenaline. I want him to touch me, to feel him pumping his hard cock in and out of me, but at the same time, the very thought of it terrifies the hell out of me. There are so many conflicting emotions running through my mind right now, and I don’t know which impulse to act on. My heart is racing and I’m on the verge of a panic attack.

  Skye must sense that I’m on the edge of a total melt down and quickly closes the gap between us. His lips are on mine and instantly, my warring emotions are overshadowed by desire.

  His lips are soft and warm, moving perfectly in time with m
ine. Each stroke of his tongue stokes the fire inside me that is rapidly growing hotter by the second. His hands are everywhere, in my hair, kneading my hips, roughly palming my breasts, and finally cupping my ass.

  With no effort at all, he lifts me and sets me on the cold, hard desk. “God, you’re beautiful,” he groans against my lips. The vibrations of his words cause my nipples to harden. My legs wrap around his waist as if they have a mind of their own and I pull myself closer to him.

  As soon as my dripping sex meets him, he grinds his hardness against me. With his mouth still on mine, he slides one hand between us and begins stroking the outside of my soaked panties. He pauses for a moment and pulls back, seeking my eyes for permission. I lean back on the desk, propping myself up on my elbows and grind my hot, needy pussy against his hand, desperately wanting more of his touch.

  Whatever control he had moments ago is no longer a concern. The sound of ripped fabric resonates through the silent office, and I feel a small pinch of pain from where the waistband of my lacy black thong is wrenched from my body. As soon as the cool air in the office touches my wetness, a warm, calloused finger plunges deep inside me.

  Skye’s mouth smothers my moan but he quickly trails his lips to my neck, beginning his slow descent. He reaches my chest and strokes the tip of one nipple with his tongue while squeezing the other. His hot, wet mouth rotates between sucking and gently biting my nipples. “Oh, God,” I pant and throw my head back, enjoying having his expert mouth on me.

  After two years of celibacy, my body is wound extremely tight. My climax is building, and the flick of his tongue and stroke of his fingers are almost too intense for me to handle.

  My hips begin to buck against his hand. My breathing becomes heavy and labored, making my breasts rise and fall. My body is quivering, and I angle my arms above my head and grip the edge of the desk for support.

  “It’s okay, baby. Let go. I want to feel you squeezing my fingers,” he says in a husky voice that vibrates all the way to my center.

  “Oh, God. More. Faster,” I command, riding his fingers wildly.

  Skye moves in closer to my ear. “You want me, baby?” he asks, his voice a primal growl.

  “Yes! Ahhh.” His fingers move faster, in and out, and every time he pushes them in, he crooks them in a come-hither motion. My body begins to shake from the inside, my orgasm working its way to the surface.

  “Skye! Oh, God! Skye. More!” He moves his thumb to my clit and applies a small amount of pressure, moving it in a circular motion.

  My back arches off the desk, my eyes close, and a loud moan bounces off the office walls. All of a sudden, something inside me explodes. Heat fills my veins and floods my body. He doesn’t remove his fingers until he’s milked every last spasm from me, and then he drags his long, thick fingers to my lips.

  “Taste yourself, Chloe. Tell me if you taste half as good as you feel,” he says as he runs his index finger against my lower lip.

  I immediately feel my face heat as all the blood rushes to my cheeks. I’ve never tasted myself before and the idea embarrasses me. I turn my head to the side, avoiding his heavy gaze. His body settles closer to mine, pressing me into the unforgiving wood of Tom’s desk.

  “Look at me, Chloe.” His voice is smooth as silk and his tone leaves no room for my refusal. I turn my head and as soon as I’m facing him, he takes my mouth with his.

  I whimper and press my wetness into the rough material of his jeans. I unabashedly grind my hips rapidly, trying to find more relief for what has become an unquenchable thirst.

  Skye pulls his mouth away from mine and slips his fingers between my lips. The sweet, sticky taste of my orgasm, mixed with the salty taste of his skin explodes across my taste buds.

  “Fuck! I gotta taste you, princess,” Skye growls, and before I can even register his words, Skye has his mouth on my pussy.

  His strong hands hold my hips in place as I writhe against his tongue. Ecstasy washes over me while he devours me with his mouth, and my body ignites with the flames that have threatened to consume me all night. My second climax rips through me, and I throw my head back to release a cry of pleasure.

  I look over my heaving chest at Skye, still kneeling between my dangling legs. “You taste so good, baby–” he begins with a smirk, but is interrupted by a knock on the door. I jump from the desk before he has a chance to react. My quick movements cause my still quivering sex to push against his face, sending a laughing Skye backward to the floor.

  “Baby, if you wanted me to taste you again all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to smack me in the face with your pussy.” He’s grinning up at me from the floor and his entire body shakes with silent laughter.

  “Five minutes till we’re up,” Harley’s muffled voice rises from the door, drowning out Skye’s laughter.

  What the hell am I doing? I just let someone, who might as well be a stranger, fuck me with his mouth in my boss’s office. I’m disgusted with myself for having no self-control. I can’t believe I allowed this to happen.

  Without looking at him, I walk to the cabinet and pull out a pair of shorts and a very tight, black belly shirt. After putting my clothes on, I slide my boots on and walk to the mirror. I don’t recognize the woman looking back at me. She has heavy, lust-filled eyes with messed up hair and flushed skin.

  Skye is standing quietly behind me observing every move I make. I feel sick and stare at my feet. A moment later, the door clicks, and when I look back to the mirror, the space that Skye had just occupied is empty.

  With a heavy sigh, I pick up my shredded panties, tuck them away in my purse, and exit the office.

  When I step out of the dark hallway I immediately look toward the stage. My eyes meet Skye’s and the air is sucked out of my lungs. The stage lights bathe him, and the way he gently stokes his guitar reminds me of the way he touched me just moments ago.

  He steps to the mic to sing back up for Brady and his voice rains down on me like a welcomed summer storm. Standing on the stage with his guitar strapped to his broad chest, he looks every bit the country music star he sounds like.

  My heart is pounding as if it wants to jump out of my chest and run to him. I walk to the main area of the bar where Tom is perched on a stool, talking to Darrell. They seem to be in deep conversation, but when Tom notices me coming from the back of the bar his attention is entirely focused on me. I raise an eyebrow in response to his steady gaze and puzzled look. He just raises his beer and smirks.

  “Chloe, why don’t you get up there with the band and show them how it’s done?” Darrell asks and smiles at what I’m sure he thinks is a brilliant idea.

  “I don’t think so, darling. I don’t want to steal the boys’ thunder. I’ve given y’all enough of a show tonight. Maybe tomorrow.” I smile at him in an attempt to soften the blow.

  “Aw, come on, Chloe,” Darrell persists.

  But I repeat, “maybe tomorrow,” as I turn to walk over to the deejay booth to talk to Paul.

  Before I get to Paul, someone grabs my arm and pulls me to them; my back is pressed tightly to their front. I try to pull out of the tight embrace, but whoever is holding me pulls me tighter. I crane my neck expecting to see Skye, but instead, I’m face to face with my ex-boyfriend, Todd. This has to be a fucking nightmare.

  Todd and I dated for two years and it did not have a happy ending. I found Todd engaged in a ménage à trois with our friends Carrie Thomas and Ansley Garris on the living room floor of our apartment. Finding him tangled up with those other women was just the icing on the cake. Two years of cheating, in addition to physical and emotional abuse, should have been enough to make me walk away, but he always managed to convince me that he loved me and that it was the last time he would hit or cheat on me.

  Consumed by the horrible memories, I don’t realize Todd is talking to me. Suddenly the words “come home with me” register. Desperate to put some distance between us, I squirm and his grip loosens. I spin and place my hands on his chest and pu
sh. He allows me to put some space between us but his hands are still holding my upper arm.

  “I don’t think that will be happening anytime soon, Todd,” I spit the words at him, wishing they were made of acid. His name is like poison on my lips. Pain spreads through my arm as his fingers dig into my tender flesh.

  “Just give me a chance to make it up to you, Chloe. You know I love you,” he says angrily. Tiny drops of spit hit my face. Can’t he see the look of loathing and repulsion on my face?

  Lacing my words with as much hatred as possible I shriek, “Really, is that what you call fucking two other women? Love? The beatings, the mind games you played with me? You wouldn’t know love if it bit you in the ass. Get your fucking hands off of me. I’m done.” Instead of releasing me, his grip tightens and I can already feel the bruises forming under his fingers.

  Suddenly, and out of nowhere, Skye appears behind me. I hadn’t noticed the music had stopped until his thick, muscular arms wrap around my waist and I immediately feel safe. “There you are, baby. I was looking everywhere for you.” Skye kisses my neck while his green eyes narrow on Todd.

  Todd instantly releases me and I bury myself in Skye’s embrace. When I look up into Skye’s face, I can see his barely contained anger fighting to get out.

  He tilts his head toward me, ignoring Todd. Skye’s lips meet mine and the world seems to fall away. The kiss is passionate, desperate, gentle, demanding, and so much more. I can still taste myself on his tongue, and I decide then and there I like it, probably more than I should. He pulls away from the kiss first and a rush of air explodes from my lungs.

  Todd is still standing beside me and I turn to face him. His body is rigid and his fists are clenched at his sides. Before I can say a word or worry that he’s about to attack one of us, Skye grabs my hand and pulls me toward the deejay booth, leaving Todd behind to stew in his anger.

  Once we reach Paul, Skye tells him to play “Bad Girlfriend” by Theory of a Deadman when it’s time for me to dance on the pole. Paul says it’ll be up two songs later and that’s good enough for me. I need a moment to get my shit together. Between my little tryst with Skye and then my run in with Todd, I feel a bit out of sorts.

 

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