"Sure," she said with a shrug. "But if we’re both using each other for the same thing, and we both know what the deal is…" She shrugged again.
"Good point."
"As long as we’re both honest, and we keep it as friends with benefits, nothing more, then what’s the harm?"
"So let me get this straight." He moved a little closer to her, putting his hand on her hip and looking at her as if waiting to see if she’d recoil. "You’re suggesting that we stay ‘just friends’, just like we’ve always been, only fucking on the side? While we’re both out looking for other people?"
"Exactly."
"And what about other people?"
"What do you mean?"
He wetted his lips. "If, say, I’m out with a girl and want to sleep with her."
She shrugged. "As long as you’re using condoms with her and with me, I don’t care." She raised an eyebrow. "Assuming the same applies if I decide I want to sleep with someone."
"Sounds fair." He grinned. "I like the sound of this."
"At least then—" She trailed her finger down the center of his chest, watching his abs ripple as she continued down the groove of his six-pack. "We both have a sure thing, so we don’t end up sleeping with some of these people just because we want a warm body for the night."
"You’re such a lady, you know that?"
"This coming from someone who’s such a gentleman."
He laughed. "Touché."
"As long as we both play by the rules," she said. "I think it’ll work."
"So what rules?"
"No lying, no commitment. If one of us wants out of it, we let it go. We go back to being just friends with no hard feelings."
"Do you think it would be that easy?"
"Well, it might not be easy to stop, but say if one of us meets someone else. Or we just decide we don’t want to do it anymore. We just have to put our friendship first. If the sex starts threatening our friendship or making things weird, we stop."
"Easier said than done."
"As is everything in life."
"Good point." He paused, pursing his lips for a moment. "I think I like this idea."
"And let’s face it," she said, smiling. "We’re damned good in bed together."
He grinned. "I always thought we’d be good in bed together—"
"Christian Bailey, are you saying you had impure thoughts about us?"
"On multiple occasions, yes." He smirked. "You know, you would be amazed at the number of positions my mind can get your body into."
She rolled her eyes and laughed. "You dirty bastard."
"What? It’s true." He chuckled. "Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it."
Her cheeks burned. "Oh, I have."
"Do tell."
"A good girl doesn’t kiss and tell."
He snorted. "First of all, if you were kissing me, your fantasy version of me or not, it doesn’t count as kissing and telling." He nibbled the side of her neck. "And second of all, you are not a good girl."
She scoffed with mock offense. "I beg your pardon."
"You can beg for something else." He pressed his hips against her.
"I don’t think you’d make me beg."
He kissed along the underside of her jaw. "I could make you beg."
"No, you couldn’t." She slid her hand under the covers.
"Is that a challenge?" He parted her lips with his
tongue.
She wrapped her hand around his cock, stroking gently and grinning into his kiss as his body tensed. "It’s a fact."
He groaned softly and pulled her closer. Then he rolled her onto her back, sucking her nipple between his lips. He moved so that his cock was just out of her reach, so she let her fingers tangle in his hair instead.
"So…" He kissed between her breasts. "No bullshit." Trailed kisses down the center of her abdomen. "No strings." Slid his hands under her hips. "A smoking hot woman who will let me…" Kissed her hipbone. "…Use her for…" Kissed the groove between her thigh and her hip. "…All manner of wild, dirty sex…" His tongue slid between her pussy lips, making her hips squirm in his hands. When he spoke again, his mouth was so close to her clit that his voice thrummed across it: "I’m failing to see the downside."
His lips closed around her clit, and the conversation was over.
Seven
How can someone be so interesting online, and yet so insufferably dull in person?
Kat crunched on an ice cube, the sound drowning out the monotonous drone of Quinn’s story about…something. She’d long since stopped paying attention to her date’s endless explanations of the intricacies of his job as an engineer, and simply focused on looking politely interested while secretly planning her escape. As much as she loved analytical, intellectual types, there was only so much she could take.
I wonder if Chris is available tonight.
When Quinn had paused long enough that she could politely change the subject, she said, "So you said you’re a chess player?"
His eyes lit up. "Oh yes, I love chess."
"Me too." She smiled. Thank God. Common ground.
"I haven’t met too many people who can play worth a damn," he said. "Seems a bit too, shall we say, demanding for some?"
Kat played with her straw and gave him a puzzled look. "Demanding? How so?"
"Well, the high school chess teams aren’t made up of the math and science nerds for nothing." The smugness in his grin and his tone set her teeth on edge. "I think anyone can learn how to move the pieces, but the strategy and planning? That takes someone with some brains."
She thought about messing with his head and giving him her theory about chess being as primal as it was intellectual, but his rebuttal would probably have put her into a coma. Instead, she said, "I don’t know, I’ve been given a run for my money from a few players you might not have expected to be so skilled."
"Yes, but how much actual strategizing went on?"
She raised an eyebrow. Did you just insult my chess prowess? "On which side of the board?"
"Either, really, I mean…" He wandered off on a tangent about complex strategies, even mentioning specific games from tournaments past.
Kat sucked an ice cube into her mouth and crunched it as loudly as she could. Not loud enough that he could hear, but loud enough that she couldn’t hear him. She knew chess strategies inside out and backwards, but was no longer interested in much of anything Quinn had to say at this point.
Quinn, you’ve insulted my intelligence and you’re making chess boring. You’ve gone from common ground to treading on very, very thin ice.
The antagonistic side of her wanted to tell him to put his money where his mouth was, come back to her place, and throw down on the chess board. But then he’d be at her place, with all the requisite hints that such an invitation created. And he’d probably irritate her so much that she’d devise a way to make a bishop into a weapon just to shut Quinn up.
That thought almost made her giggle, but she suppressed it and went for her drink.
Pity he was such a pompous jackass; he wasn’t bad-looking, and she was horny as hell. If only he’d kept his mouth shut.
Her mind shifted to her backup plan.
Chris. She sucked another ice cube into her mouth. Her stomach suddenly twisted into a nervous knot. I can’t possibly call him, can I? This is what we agreed to do. Why should I be embarrassed? It was my idea, why am I so afraid to call him?
Quinn cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him. For a moment, she was afraid he’d noticed that her mind was elsewhere, but as he continued on, explaining the strategies and dynamics of the Alkehine-Poindle game of 1936, he probably didn’t even realize she was still there.
Chris, you may want to grab a couple of Red Bulls.
She scooted her chair back slightly, the movement catching Quinn’s attention. "Hold that thought for just a second," she said, forcing a smile. "I’m going to run to the ladies’ room, but I’ll be right back."
&nbs
p; "Oh, sure, certainly," he said, smiling in spite of the obvious annoyance in his voice.
She picked up her purse and headed towards the back of the restaurant. The restrooms were tucked away in a hallway that was mostly hidden from anyone in the dining room. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure she was truly out of Quinn’s sight, she dug her phone out of her purse and speed-dialed Chris.
She chewed her lip as it rang, wondering if he was busy, if he’d even want to see her, if she was a complete idiot for even thinking of this, if—
"Bailey’s Booty Call Service, how may I direct your call?"
Kat burst out laughing. "What gave me away?"
He chuckled. "Nothing, it was just wishful thinking."
"Are you saying you hoped my date was a bust?"
"I’m saying I hoped you’d want to get laid tonight."
"Well, you’re in luck. My date is a bust and I really want to get laid."
"We have at least one thing in common tonight, then."
"Your date was a bust, too?" She giggled.
"You know what I mean."
"Yes, I do. So I suppose I don’t need to ask if you’re busy?"
He laughed. "Not doing anything I wouldn’t drop in a heartbeat if a hot woman demanded my presence in her bed."
"Well good, because I’m demanding your presence in my bed."
"Say the magic word."
"Now."
He chuckled again. "Works for me. You closer to your place or mine?"
"Mine." She glanced back towards the dining area. "I can probably be there in twenty depending on how soon I can bow out of this."
"I’ll be there with a hard-on."
"Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it, ‘I’ll be there with bells on’?"
"Probably," he said. "But I’m fresh out of bells."
"Then I guess a hard-on will suffice." She shivered. Will it ever.
"See you there."
"Don’t be late." She hung up and grinned as she slipped her phone back into her purse.
Sorry, Quinn. The knight just stepped in and captured your queen.
Eight
The warmth of someone lying beside her sent a cold shudder down Kat’s spine as she awoke. Oh joy. Another morning of 'here’s your coffee, there’s the door'. This was probably her least favorite part of a one night stand.
In fragments, memories from the night before trickled into her mind, and with a smile she remembered that it was Chris beside her. This was the second time they’d spent the entire night together, and she suddenly realized one of the unsung benefits of friends with benefits. The morning after, they were still friends, not strangers trying to exit gracefully without outwardly saying that the odds of seeing each other again were marginally better than a snowball’s chance in hell.
She rolled onto her side and watched him sleep. He was on his stomach, his face turned away from her, the comforter draped just above his waist. Some faint red lines crisscrossed his back, and a row of four crescent moons on each shoulder made her breath catch at the memory of the earth-shattering climax that had driven her nails into his skin. Fortunately, she noted, she hadn’t broken the skin, but the marks would be there for a few hours.
Oops, she thought, suppressing a giggle.
She ran her hand up his back, smiling as he stirred slightly. When she got to his neck, she gently pressed her nails against his skin and trailed them back down his spine. With a startled gasp, he shivered awake.
He shifted, turning his head so he could see her, but stayed on his stomach. "Morning," he murmured, his eyes barely open.
"Morning," she said, letting her nails drifted up and
down his back.
"Mmm, that feels nice."
"So you don’t want me to stop?"
"Not unless you feel the need to occupy your hands some other way."
"Like making coffee?"
"Coffee can wait. I like what you’re doing."
"You know, with all those lines I left last night, we could play chess on your back."
He lifted his head, glaring at her playfully. "What did you do? Leave a roadmap on me?"
She shrugged, batting her eyes innocently. "I didn’t mean to." Letting her fingers trace over the fading crescent moons on his shoulder, she said, "Didn’t mean to leave those, either."
"What?" He reached over his shoulder and laughed as he ran his fingers over the grooves. "Jesus, woman, I’m surprised you didn’t draw blood."
"I guess I got carried away."
He scooted closer to her, rolling onto his side and draping his arm over her. "Trust me, feeling you come like that was well worth having a chunk or two carved out of my shoulder."
"I thought so too."
"I’m sure you did," he said. "You, my dear, were the one having the orgasm and you weren’t the one getting clawed."
"You just said it was worth it, though." She ran her fingertips up his side, laughing when he tensed.
He took her hand away from his side and pulled it up to his lips. He kissed the backs of her fingers. "It was worth it. So just don’t be surprised if I sink my nails or teeth in sometime while I’m coming."
"Christian!" she scoffed in mock horror. "You wouldn’t inflict such a wanton act of cruelty on me during lovemaking, would you?"
"Absolutely not," he said. Without warning, he nipped her finger, just hard enough to smart but not enough to leave a mark. When she yelped and tried to pull her hand away, he held it tighter. "I would, however, not hesitate to do something that might leave a mark while I’m fucking the
hell out of you."
"Beast."
"You’re damn right," he growled, kissing her neck and nudging her onto her back. "Besides, something tells me you have a higher pain tolerance than I do."
"Oh? What makes you say that?"
He shifted onto one arm and trailed his fingers down her abdomen, then onto her hip. "Just a hunch," he said, tracing the outline of her tattoo.
She sucked in a breath. His feather light touch was almost more intense than the tattoo needle had been.
He moved back and sat up, furrowing his brow as he looked at the tattoo. "How long have you had that, anyway? I didn’t even know you had a tattoo until the other night."
She glanced down. "I got it in college."
"It’s beautiful," he said, still exploring the raised edges of the Pegasus that extended from her hip partway down her thigh.
"I’m rather fond of it," she said. "Which is good, since I’m stuck with it."
"You have more, don’t you?" His gaze moved over her the way his fingers moved over the tattoo. "I could have sworn I saw another one."
"There’s one all the way around each ankle."
He ran his hand from the tattoo down to her knee, then gently bent her knee and continued down to her ankle. "I like that one too," he said, letting his fingertips run over the anklet of roses. "Now let’s have a look at the other one." He let her ankle go and brought the other up in a similar fashion. Eyebrows lifting, he laughed and said, "Barbed wire? Now that’s sexy. I can’t believe I never noticed those before."
"You would have had to check out my legs, wouldn’t you?"
He winked. "You don’t think I have?" He paused. "Come to think of it, I think I did see them, but I always thought you were wearing ankle bracelets."
"I still have one more," she said.
"You do? Where?"
She said nothing. Instead, she rolled onto her
stomach, propping herself up on her elbows and pulling her hair over her shoulder to show him the Celtic knotwork between her shoulders.
"Wow," he said. "That is…" He moved closer. "That is gorgeous." She expected his fingers to touch it just as they had her others, but instead, his hands come down on the bed beside her and she sensed him moving over her. When his lips touched the center of her spine, she gasped and arched her back.
"Like that?" he whispered before kissing her back again.
"What do you think?" she
said.
"Hmm, not sure." He moved up this time, kissing his way up to the base of her neck. "I think you do, but I can’t be sure."
Every inch of her skin prickled with goosebumps from his touch, which was as soft as it was intense. When he kissed behind her ear, she whimpered and pushed herself up against him, just needing to feel his body against hers.
Pushing back, he took away her ability to form a coherent thought as his hard cock pressed against her. Nibbling her ear gently, he whispered, "I didn’t wear your pussy out last night, did I?"
"God, no."
"So you wouldn’t object…" He kissed the side of her neck. "…if I put another condom on, pulled you up on your knees, and fucked the living hell out of you?"
She couldn’t speak.
She couldn’t think.
She did the one thing she could do.
Reached for the nightstand drawer.
Nine
"Hey, Kat."
Kat looked over her computer screen at Jackie, one of her customer service reps, who leaned in through the office door. She barely suppressed a frustrated groan at Jackie’s knitted brow, which signaled more bullshit than Kat felt like dealing with today. She forced a smile. "What’s up?"
The knitted brow tightened. "We’ve got a pissed off customer on line four that wants free shipping on seven hundred pounds of cargo going to India."
Kat blinked. "Have you asked him what he’s smoking?"
Jackie laughed, but it was a nervous sound. She was still fairly new to the call center, and hadn’t quite learned to roll with the punches.
Sighing, Kat said, "Transfer it to me. I’ll take care of it." Jackie’s shoulders dropped as she released a relieved breath. It was the signature look of 'Thank God, I’m off the hook' that all of the representatives got when she took over with problem calls. A second later, she was gone.
Kat leaned back in her chair and glared at the empty doorway. Next time, you’re on your own, Jackie. She really didn’t have time for this, not with the hundred or so unanswered e-mails, dozen voice mails, and countless reports and shit she had to address before five today, but it would be less time-consuming to handle it herself this time rather than try to walk Jackie through it.
The Next Move Page 4