by Lex Martin
“Quite possibly the worst ever.”
“A hall-of-famer. I should make you a plaque.”
We’re both laughing now, and Drew winks conspiratorially. “I guess every friendship has a story to tell when it starts, right?” He clears his throat again as he places the apple slices next to the crackers. “So does this mean we can be friends?”
That gives me pause. Because forgiveness and friendship are different things, right?
I guess I am having a hard time letting go of the past.
He bought you a big-ass box of wine and wants to be friends. He gave you a real apology. Be like Elsa, Kendall. Let it the fuck go.
I swirl my wine and watch the color reflect against the glass. “I like Drew 2.0, so yes, we can be friends.”
“Can we be friends who kiss?” He gives me a cheeky grin, and I shake my head, laughing.
And then I think I surprise us both with my next words.
“Let me think about it.”
What the hell is that about? I look down at my almost empty glass of wine. It has to be the alcohol talking.
Although…the thought of kissing Drew right now does things to me. Because kissing this man would lead to other activities.
It flashes in my mind. What sex with him would be like. The way his broad shoulders would hover over me, and how he’d thrust, hard, and those lips—God, those lips. They’d be everywhere. On my neck, sucking and whispering filthy things. Because Drew is a dirty, dirty boy.
“You okay, KK? Do you want me to turn down the fire?” He motions toward my face. “You look a little flushed.”
“I think I’m finally warming up.” I pull off my jacket and smile when he holds up the bottle of wine.
“Another glass? We can save the rest for tomorrow.”
I wave it on. Now that I’m starting to unwind, I realize how uptight I’ve been about work. The fact I can’t do a damn thing right now is liberating, and I want to take full advantage of that before I have to return to the grind.
We eat and chat and watch Shazam chase his tail. When we finish, we lean back against the couch, side by side. I’m sleepy, so I lean my head against his shoulder, and he reaches over and plays with a strand of my hair.
“Drew, should we be worried about Josh and Evie? I hope they’re not stuck on the road somewhere.”
“Nah. Maybe they couldn’t make it up the mountain, so they turned around and they’re boning like bunnies at home.”
“They do like to bone.” I love Evie, but I’m a little jealous of her sex life.
Drew snorts. “Tell me about it. Once I crashed at their place and had to listen to them do the dirty all night.”
“Have you noticed how they eye fuck each other whenever they’re in the same room?”
His chest rumbles with laughter. “Did I ever tell you I caught them in the act in my closet once when I had a party?”
“Dang. Those crazy kids.”
Talking about my best friend reminds me that I probably won’t be spending any time with Evie if she and Josh did head back to Portland. A strange melancholy spreads through me.
With a sigh, I shiver. The fire has died down, and it’s getting cold again. I can see my breath.
Drew wraps an arm around my shoulder, and I snuggle closer, and whisper, “I like this friends thing we have going on.”
Yeah, maybe I’m lonely and cold and Drew is here, making me laugh. Helping me forget my state of singlehood.
“Me too. You smell good. Way better than any of my guy friends.”
“You smell good too.” So good, I’d like to lick him. Closing my eyes, I smile. “I had fun today, and I really didn’t expect to.”
Now that the wine has worked its way through me, I have a whole-body buzz that makes everything feel warm and fuzzy, like I could float away.
“Back at ya.” After a minute, he tugs my hair. “Maybe we should talk about where you want to sleep.”
“Hmm?”
“There’s only one bedroom, but there’s no fireplace in there. So you can sleep in there or in here on the couch, and I’ll take whatever you don’t want. It’s warmer here, but you can have the bedroom if you want more privacy.”
“That’s crazy. How does this place only have one bedroom?”
“Not sure. I was thinking maybe there’s another cabin in the back, although in this weather, I don’t wanna trek out there to find it.”
I crack open my eyes again and look toward the window, but it’s solid black out there, with the exception of the snow that’s built up along the bottom that looks at least knee-deep thanks to the wind.
“You’re sure this is the right place?” I glance at the beautifully decorated living room, suddenly panicked.
He gestures around. “It’s ultra-Josh. He always puts in Wolf appliances and big windows and shelves like this. He spent forty-five minutes telling me about the cantilevered-vaulted-cornerstone-something-or-other architecture of the place. It’s his.”
Drew seems convinced. But it’s not like we have any other options if he’s wrong.
“What do you want to do?” Sitting up, I tilt my head to look at him, and sheesh, we’re close. His blond hair is dipping over his eyes in a flirty way that makes my breath come faster.
“What do I want to do?”
Smiling, I nudge him with my elbow. “About sleeping.”
“Oh, I thought you just meant generally speaking.” My nipples tighten when his eyes lower to my lips. “Because right now I’d like to revisit my proposition about being friends who kiss.”
The pulse between my thighs cheers me on, and I tap my chin with my finger, pretending to think about it. “Do you think you could do a demonstration for me? So we could test out this theory? How would this be different than just hooking up?”
Teasing him is fun, but his flirty grin makes that pulse beat faster. “Oh, it would be very different.” He dips his head to my neck and runs his lips up to my ear, erupting goosebumps across my skin. “Hookups are a one-and-done. But us? We wouldn’t let the fucking get in the way of this BFF thing we have going on. We could be an FWF. Friends who fuck.”
Swallowing, I try to ignore the immediate shock of lust that spears through my veins.
Hooking up with Drew is a terrible idea.
The worst.
Something I promised myself I’d never do.
Except he’s different now.
This isn’t the same Drew.
This is post-coma Drew who carries you on his back and makes you tea and tucks blankets around your shoulders.
His lips trail once more over the delicate area behind my ear, making it hard to think.
Why would this be so bad?
The more I mull over his words, the more I like the idea.
Because friends who fuck don’t get in the way of work engagements or long hours at the office. Friends who fuck don’t pressure you to put your career on the back burner. Friends who fuck don’t get upset when the only thing you have time for is the fucking.
My breath comes out a pant, and I fist his T-shirt, but then his hands scoop under my thighs and lift me onto his lap so I’m straddling him where he’s thick and hard under his flimsy track pants.
But as he leans up for my mouth, I pull away. “Can we keep the FWF status quiet? Just between us? I don’t want to have to explain what we’re doing to anyone.”
“We can do this any way you want. As long as you come hard and often.”
I grind myself against his sizable erection. “I like this plan.”
When his lips touch mine, I groan, but when our tongues slide together, an electric spark shoots through me.
And I can’t wait to detonate.
10
Drew
Kissing a hot-blooded Kendall activates every single nerve receptor in my body. Kendall dry humping me is eyes-rolling-back-in-my-head good. Combine the two and I may not survive this night.
When I waved the white flag-slash-red wine of truce, I honestly h
ad no ulterior motive. I just wanted to press reset on our relationship and see what would happen if we hadn’t started off with me being a drunk asshole and her being a stuck-up snob. I’d hoped for neutrality, or at best, “well-wishing” in The Simpsons sense—that she didn’t wish me any specific harm.
This, though? Test driving this weird we used to annoy each other and now we’re really getting along and let’s see what it’s like to be naked thing?
Yes, please. Give me more.
Have I ever imagined a moment like this? Affirmative. Did I think it would happen? Negatory, Batman.
With a groan, I wrap my arms around her slim form to kiss the hell out of her. Although I taste the sweet-sour red wine on her tongue, she seems in control. Cogent. I clutch her pert ass as she rides me over my pants, her jeans causing friction that makes me throb. I deepen the kiss until both of us are panting, and we break apart.
“Wow,” she whispers, her eyes hazy and half-lidded.
“Yeah,” I whisper back. And before she can say something else, I press my lips to hers again, and she invites me in with her tongue. I take my time, paying attention to her breath coming faster, the way her skin heats up, her long, languid slides down my very happy dick.
At a horse race, there’s the moment at the start when the gate falls and the horses are off. No hesitation, they just tear down the track, kicking up dust and aiming for the finish line as fast as possible.
I’ll be delicate here. Let’s just say—hypothetically speaking of course—in the past, if I were a horse in a sexual race, I would have been the fastest one down the course.
I don’t want to do that tonight for so many reasons, and they all go back to the simple fact that Kendall deserves better. I’m taking it as a personal challenge to discover every single way I can get Kendall to moan.
But it’s more than physical attraction. Over the course of the day, I feel like I finally see her without all the bullshit that convoluted our relationship—mainly me and my drunken stupidity.
And I realize I like what I see. Sure, she’s gorgeous. That’s not what’s making me treat her with care.
The difference is that she appreciates the boring, adult changes I’ve made, which hits a deep, foreign place inside me.
Most of my “friends” give me a hard time about my new healthy lifestyle—Drew, how come you’re not drinking? Want a hit? Why are you leaving early? Where’s your belly, dude? Are you a body Nazi now?
Those comments from the bros get old fast. But I hadn’t realized how few people understood how serious my shit was. Kendall actually sympathizing about my health puts her in a rarefied minority consisting of her, Josh, and Bee. No one else cares. Not even my family.
So when I kiss her, I’m really not kissing a friend who I want to fuck. That offer was me throwing out a Hail Mary because I didn’t think she’d actually go for me. Instead, I’m kissing a girl who sees me for more than I am, and I’m hoping I can treat her right.
At least I’m giving her the new and better me, and it’s honest. I’m not hiding anything, and she knows all the gory details of pre-coma Drew. Now’s my chance to prove I’ve changed for the better.
As my lips make their way down her neck and my fingers glide along the tense muscles of her back, I murmur, “You are wound up like a Slinky, Kendall Jackson.”
She pulls back and pouts, although her body is still grinding on me, slow and languid and delicious. “My last name’s Greer.”
I tilt my head, put my finger on her lips shushing her, and give her my most serious expression. “I know.”
She bursts out laughing. “Oh, Kendall Jackson wine. Your bottle is so much better. And I’m not that tipsy. I promise.”
“Good,” I say quietly, and reach between us to unbutton her jeans. “Pants off, woman.”
Climbing off my lap and standing, she smiles and kicks off her boots. She reaches for my waistband, and I shake my head no. While I could shuck off my clothes, I’m not going to. I want to be the last horse in this race—one that could take all night for all I care.
I unzip her pants, and she shimmies them down, leaving her wearing a shirt, socks, and teeny tiny panties.
Dead. I’m dead.
She shivers, and I quickly throw another log on the fire. When she climbs back on me and our lips join again, now she’s so much softer, closer, with only flimsy fabric separating her scorching center and my erection. This time, we both groan. If I don’t stop this, I’m going to end up coming in my pants like a teenager.
While she moves, Kendall whispers in my ear. Her lips feel delicate, her words exquisite, her voice on the edge of satisfaction. “Drew, you have a really nice cock.”
“Why, thank you. My cock likes you too.” As the snow falls outside, and the fire roars within, I pull back, my hands gripping her thighs while she kisses my neck. “Here’s what I think. If I tell a stressed out workaholic to relax, she won’t relax.”
“She’s stubborn that way,” Kendall admits against the stubble of my jaw.
“I’m wondering something, though.”
“What?”
“If I tell that workaholic I’m not stopping until she comes so hard she forgets her name and only screams mine, I’d bet she just might do that.”
Kendall’s sharp intake of breath synchronizes with her eyes widening. She pauses on the down-grind and grins, a wide-open, no-holds-barred grin that makes me melt inside. “I’d like to see you try.”
I rub over the soft cloth of her undies as she lifts up from my hard-on. “Try not, sweetheart. Do or do not.”
She giggles and then lets out a sigh. “I can’t believe you’re quoting Yoda while you’re getting in my pants.”
“No better time,” I mutter, and I gently increase the pressure on her, massaging the parts I know will make her purr.
Thankfully the other beast who purrs is leaving us alone, curled up by the fire.
I keep going, and Kendall’s breath changes. I can tell by the way she’s moving her hips that she likes this, but she’s not letting herself go. This woman needs an orgasm the way a cabin needs a fireplace—it’s simply wrong without one, and preferably, multiple.
“You’re stunningly beautiful,” I tell her. “Wanna make you come. Want more here?”
Nodding, she bites her lips and wriggles in my lap, finally abandoning her guardedness and showing me how much she’s enjoying my hand both with the way she’s losing focus and the way she’s soaked the fabric.
“How about here?”
I get a firmer, more vehement nod.
“What about here?” I ask, and with my hand on her back, I flip her onto the couch as she squeals in delight. The back couch cushion supports her head, and both of her toned legs sprawl to the ground. I kneel on the ground between her thighs and scooch her lingerie to the side, exposing a neat auburn landing strip. The rest of her is smooth and baby-soft, a discovery that makes my cock thump in my track pants when I take a long lick on her most intimate part.
Yumm.
“Oh my God,” she gasps. “M-m-more.”
My tongue laps at her clit as my fingers stroke inside her, knocking against her G-spot. Her thighs squeeze around my face, and I’m almost coming myself, I love it so much. But I’m focusing on her and what will please her. What will make her shatter in blissful agony.
I keep going and going with my mouth, as she writhes on the couch, her head slashing back and forth.
It feels extra dirty since we’re both basically clothed.
And I suppose we could get caught.
“Don’t stop.” She’s holding herself still now, but her fingers claw at the couch cushions. “Drew Merritt, I want you inside me. Right fucking now.”
I know better than to remember what Kendall says during sex. I know not to bring this up at any other time.
But dammit if it won’t star in my dreams for the rest of my existence.
Naughty Kendall with my head between her legs, demanding that I fuck her?
; This might be the highlight of my life.
With my face and my fingers, I lavish her with undivided attention until she throws her head back, her body goes rigid, and she quivers on my tongue. I keep going as she crests the wave of her O, getting off on the way her body quakes. Then I slow, letting her pulse on my face, as she comes back down.
When she revives herself, she asks breathlessly, “Can we do that again?”
I nod into the space between her legs, kissing the inside of her thigh, then giving it a tiny bite. “I can arrange that.”
“Awesome.” Glancing up at her, I notice her eyes have changed to bright and glossy and satiated. I stand up, my pants not hiding what my dick’s thinking. She reaches toward me while she gets to her feet. “I think it’s my turn to—”
Grabbing her hands, I hold them together firmly. “No. You first. Again.”
“But I want to—”
I pause and inhale, still clasping her wrists and now catching her pretty eyes. “We both know my track record is abysmal. The longest intimate relationship I’ve ever had is with my hand. Left one, mostly. I’m way out of my league with you, and I have no idea what I’m getting myself into. I’ve never had a FWF. But if I mess this up tonight, I’ll never forgive myself.”
I must’ve said the right things because her eyes soften, and she gives me a vulnerable smile.
One she’s never given me before.
And it makes me feel like a goddamn king.
“Okay,” she whispers. “We’ll do this your way.”
I go to kiss her, but pause to whip off my shirt and wipe my face with it.
Her grin turns knowing as she drags a finger down my front. “This is not first edition Drew.”
Flexing my bicep, I say, “First edition Drew has been discontinued. We have a new model in stock.”
“I like the new model. It comes with extra features.” She rubs my stiff cock. “I don’t think we’re doing much sleeping tonight.”
“Fine by me. This might be the best Thanksgiving ever.” I tug on her hand to lead her to the bedroom, and my voice comes out husky. “How would you like a cordial invitation to sit on my face?”