Don't Think Twice

by Nikky Kaye

  “You wanna take off your coat?” she asked as she threw hers on the wooden chair by her desk.

  Jesus, yes. I was boiling, even though my jacket was unzipped. But I didn’t want to scare her or offend her with my prominent erection. She sat on the made bed, her comforter fluffing up around her hips. It was only then that I noticed she was staring at my crotch.

  So much for hiding my arousal.

  “Take your jacket off, Will.” It was not a suggestion.

  So I did, and it joined hers on the chair. She patted the bed beside her, and I sat next to her. Our thighs pressed together.

  “Whatever I did, I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

  I tilted my head, willing to guess. “Are you mad that I didn’t jump you at the gym? Because you know that’s a public place, right?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Says the man who got me off on the quad.”

  I grinned at the memory. Fuck, that was hot.

  “But yes, I was kind of put out,” she admitted. She looked at her lap, focusing on pushing her cuticles back with her thumbnail.

  “You were put out that I didn’t put out.” I just wanted to clarify, and she nodded. “Cass, I—” I rubbed my hand over my face, not sure how to say what I wanted to say. I’d had the same problem when walking her home after that sadistic class. “Believe me, I wanted to.”

  “You did?” Her voice was small.

  “Of course I fucking did!” But I couldn’t move my legs at the time. “But I didn’t want you to think that’s all I wanted.”

  “What?”

  I grabbed her hand, arresting her fidgety manicure. She looked in my eyes, and I felt like a world-class shitbag for putting that insecurity there. I hadn’t seen that self-doubt since that day at the diner when she announced that she hated sex.

  “This—” I tugged our clasped hands back and forth between us. “—you and me, we’re good. But that’s the problem. I don’t want to fuck up our friendship. I want you to decide what we do.”

  “Couldn’t we be friends with benefits?”

  Any sane guy would jump at the offer. Hell, even the insane ones would. I didn’t know why I was hesitating. What the fuck was I scared of? Having casual sex with a girl I actually liked as a person? What the fuck was wrong with me? Maybe she had taken my balls home for Thanksgiving with her. They were probably in her computer bag right now.

  “Will, I, uh, really had a good time with you.”

  “Yeah?” I turned on the bed to face her, impulsively pulling her legs over my lap. They went willingly, her thighs subtly rubbing together like a cricket in her jeans. I didn’t even care that her fuck-hot boots were still on. “What did you like?” I pressed her.

  A blush spread over her cheeks and down her neck, but for once she didn’t avert her gaze from me. “When you licked me.”

  I nodded, my mouth dry. I swallowed. “Your clit…”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “What else, Cass?”

  “Your hands on me. In me. Your fingers...”

  She looked down at my hands on the smooth leather of her boots. I was reminded of Halloween, when I’d had to peel them off her and put her to bed. That was the first time she’d writhed in heat before me, off her head from alcohol mixed with cold meds. I’d been a gentleman then, too.

  “You were so wet,” I reminded her.

  “I am now,” she confessed, her thighs squeezing together. My hard-on was prodding the backs of her knees as her legs lay on me.

  “I don’t want to fuck up—”

  Her hand came up. “Forget that. Do you want me, Will?”

  Was she kidding? Maybe I was too subtle when I fucked her ass. A groan escaped me as I thought about it, my pants tightening to an unbearable degree. My hips jerked against her legs, making her shift on the bed.

  “Yes, I think it’s fair to say that I want you,” I said.

  “Then have me.”

  Was it that simple? She looked dead serious, despite the flush in her cheeks.

  “You should be pretty proud of yourself,” she said. “You made me come. You made me want to come more.”

  “More?” My voice was rough.

  “I want to try everything.”

  How could I refuse her? My hands swept up her legs, from her boots to her squirming thighs. Wait a second…

  “Define everything.” If she was thinking about a threesome with Dylan, then we would have a problem. Girl girl guy, sure. But I had zero interest in seeing another dude naked except by accident in the locker room.

  Her eyes sparkled with the anticipation of victory. “You want to consult the internet?”

  I’d created two monsters—three, if you counted the one in my pants screaming to get out and get wet.

  She tapped her index finger against her chin. “Then again, I’m supposed to be a unicorn in bed.”

  “What?” I laughed. Did she even know what a unicorn in bed was?

  She lay down on the bed, her nipples hard and pointing to the ceiling through her bra and t-shirt. I began unzipping her boots. Propping herself back up on her elbows, she considered me thoughtfully.

  “Tell you what,” she said.

  “You just did.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “What? No, I mean I have an idea.”

  “Ideas are good. Critical thinking is an integral part of the college experience.” So was fucking like rabbits, from what I understood.

  “You still owe me from our previous bet.”

  To be perfectly honest, I’d totally forgotten about that. I shrugged. “I’m good for it.” But now I was hit with a new problem—did I pay up and make her feel like a hooker, or did I stiff her when she could probably use the money? I was mulling it over when she spoke again.

  “Double or nothing I can come up with more new sex things than you can.”

  I stifled a laugh. She was so fucking cute. “Sex things?”

  “You know, positions, places, that kind of thing.”

  I gave her an incredulous look. “Cass, you do know I’m a twenty-one-year-old guy, right?”

  “So?”

  “So, I’ve had…” I did some quick mental math. “About ten years of porn experience to draw on.”

  She looked affronted. “And I don’t?”

  My jaw unhinged.

  “Girls get off, too, you know. We just tend to read smutty fanfic or books instead of watching stupid videos online.”

  Her expression was totally serious, but I didn’t buy it. This was the girl who, less than a month ago, had told me she didn’t care for sex and had never had an orgasm until I gave her one. In other words, she had to be bluffing.

  “Okay, you’re on.”

  This was one bet that I would be happy to lose.

  Chapter Six

  Cassie

  I was filled with shame. Fuck me twice, after all. But since I was also filled with Will’s cock, I was past caring.

  “Oh god, I’m so close,” I panted.

  I could count the number of orgasms I’d had in my life on my fingers, and they were all courtesy of the man moving inside me. Not that I was keeping track perfectly, since I was still unsure what qualified.

  His tongue made me feel strange, achingly empty feelings that built into quaking pleasure, and his fingers in more taboo places sent electrical currents through me. Every touch was different, my body reacting reflexively and my heart was still trying to catch up.

  I straddled him on the wooden study chair in my room. One of his arms was belted around my waist and the other one toyed with my hair falling down my back. If I leaned away from him, my spine would hit the desk.

  In our competitive ambition to try something different, he’d begun to shove stuff off the institutional table that served as my desk. Unfortunately, my computer got swept up in the passion, and I made an ungainly dive for it just as it was about to hit the floor.

  No orgasm was worth losing my laptop.

>   When I said as much to Will, he countered that clearly he had his work cut out for him. The glare I gave him wasn’t meant to be sexy, but it still made him harden as he pointed to the chair as an alternative.

  So now his thumb strummed my clit furiously while he moved against me at a lazy pace, and the contrast between the two sensations was making my head spin. The prickling pressure in my belly swelled, like a balloon close to bursting.

  “Oh Cass, you need this, don’t you?”

  I nodded, whimpering, “Yes!”

  He captured my bottom lip between his teeth as his hips jerked. “Ungh! Fuck!” he grunted. “Did my big, hard cock turn you into a horny little slut, Cassie?”

  The educated, rational feminist inside me wanted to punch him in the nuts, but the nympho in me was discovering how his dirty words could make me clench in a primal reaction. No girl wanted to be called a slut, but there was a dark, secret part of me that would be proud to be his slut. Or could you even be called a slut if you just wanted one person?

  “Fuck, Will!” A shiver ran from my ass all the way up my spine. I was so close, but not quite there. I felt like a frustrated kid, chasing that balloon in my core, but it kept floating out of reach.

  His hand stilled, trapped between us. “Jesus, I can feel you clamping down on me.”

  And maybe I was, but I still wasn’t coming. At least, I didn’t think I was. My body was hot, aching and wound up, but tension kept me on the edge that I wanted so desperately to fall over.

  I needed more, but I didn’t know how to tell him. I didn’t even know exactly what I needed, just that it wasn’t enough.

  As he withdrew his hand from between us, my fingers dug into the wooden chair back. I circled my hips a little as I ground down on him. With a responding groan and a twist of his wrist, he swept my hair into his fist and tugged my head back.

  “Look at that pretty neck,” he sighed. His mouth latched on to it, licking and teasing and nipping. He pressed his tongue to the pulsing spot under my jaw, tasting the throb of my heartbeat. I let out a little whine, instinctively tilting my head to the side to give him better access.

  “No.” His grip on my hair tightened again, and he jerked my face straight back so I was looking up. The popcorn ceiling dimmed as my eyes squeezed shut. All I could do was feel him against me, around me, in me.

  My throat ached a little when I swallowed, but was soothed by his lips as they graduated from the hollow between my collarbones all the way up the center to the underside of my chin. The stubble on his chin scraped over me, rasping against my nerve endings like he was striking a match on me.

  “Please,” I gasped, my hands moving from the chair to pry into his muscular shoulders. I wanted to run my fingertips up and down his spine like he was able to traverse mine, but the chair back was in the way.

  My face relaxed a little when he let go of my hair, the sharp little pulls at my hairline softening. But when I began to lower my chin, he wedged his dark head underneath it. “No, keep your head back.”

  I blinked, my eyes watering.

  “I love the way your neck looks like this.” His hands and lips followed his admiration up and down my throat and across my shoulders and collarbone. “It’s so fucking sexy.”

  I tried swallowing again, but my throat felt like it had a giant lump in it. He pressed his lips right where it ached.

  “Sometime I’d like to see my cock fill that throat,” he murmured.

  Oh god. “Uh…” I couldn’t quite make words come out.

  “We just have to practice.” And the tip of his tongue traced the outline of where he’d ease deep into me. I stiffened with trepidation. But my pussy was slick with desire, and he grunted as I soaked him with every thrust.

  Suddenly, he pushed me back a little, one hand tugging my chin down so he could look into my eyes. His other hand splayed across my lower back, his pinky finger dipping into the top of my ass crack. With my spine arched, his thrusts were shallower, the girth of his steely erection stretching the tender skin at my entrance. Lust filled his gaze, but he wouldn’t let me look away.

  The intensity in his expression was overwhelming. Not only did he already know me, but he was also memorizing every fiber of my being—my secret fantasies, darkest fears, even my most magical dreams. And there were no unicorns in sight, only Will fucking me.

  His hand fell from my face to cup my breast. I let out a yelp as he pinched my nipple hard, then he squeezed me gently. Before I’d even had time to ride the wave from assault to appeasement, his palm smoothed around my rib cage to my back. His arms were both banded around me—one hand up high and one hand down low, drifting lower.

  “It’s okay, Cass.”

  It’s okay to want this, I reminded myself. It was okay to enjoy this. My cheeks were hot, like I’d had one too many drinks, and my body tingled everywhere his skin fused to mine. The skin was the largest organ in the body, Will had reminded me, which went a long way to explaining why my whole body felt like it had pins and needles.

  “Will, I need—”

  “I know… Fuck! Me, too.” He clutched me close, his quads turning to steel under my ass as he flexed. His hands shifted, his grip on me adjusting.

  At the same time that he almost rose up off the chair with a forceful thrust, his little finger slid down and brushed against the tight hole between my cheeks. I knew enough already to know that was a sensitive spot for me, but it still frightened me when the balloon burst in my belly.

  “Oh shit, Will, I’m—oh god!”

  Unlike the ripples of pleasure that had spread through me at other times, I felt a landslide was falling into the lake of my arousal. Wide, deep waves of contentment billowed through my body, finally cresting at the ends of my jagged nerves.

  He shouted, a sharp curse piercing the sweet, damp air around us as he came.

  My heartbeat was damn speedy for a body that felt so boneless. I slumped against him, my chin bolstered on his shoulder as I sat on his lap. “That…” I sighed, unable to express myself adequately.

  “Yeah, that.” He squirmed a little. “No offense, but this chair is fucking uncomfortable.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “They should consider sexual ergonomics when choosing dorm furniture.”

  The bigger problem in my mind was: with my legs dangling on either side of his thighs and his softening cock nestled against me, how would I dismount with grace and elegance?

  “So how do I get off this ride?” I mused out loud.

  “Just a sec.” He gripped the edge of the table behind me, saying, “Hold on.”

  I let out an “eep!” and wrapped my arms and legs around him and the chair. He tried to push us away from the desk, but the chair’s feet scraped on the prison gray carpet and we began to tip over. Oh god, this is not going to end well, I thought.

  “No, no, stop!” I twisted around, contorting myself to hold on to the desk for balance while bending my leg in between us so I could hop off him to one side. If he was going down in that chair, I was not going with him.

  But I was wrong. He didn’t go down. Instead, the front legs of the chair landed with a thud, his head bobbing forward at the exact moment I was whipping my knee up and across his chest.

  “Ow!” His hand went to his nose. “Motherfucker!”

  I’d been right the first time about it not ending well. I dashed to the bathroom and unspooled enough toilet paper to keep a pet hamster happily nesting for weeks.

  “Here.”

  He snatched it from me and wadded it up against his bleeding nose. His eyes were watering when he looked at me, but he didn’t seem angry. He mumbled something, but I couldn’t understand him.

  “What?”

  Gently he pulled away the toilet paper and checked to see if the bleeding had stopped. “I said, I guess you can check ‘bloodplay’ off the list.”

  When I giggled, he winced.

  “Oh god,” I said in a panic. “I’m laughing! I’m actually laughing at your pain. I’m
a horrible person!”

  “Cass, it’s just blood.”

  Yeah, sure, I thought. I still had the feeling his lust for me would abate when it was that time of the month.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked.

  His gaze roamed up and down my body, reminding me that I was still naked—as was he; only he was also suffering the indignity of sitting on a hard wooden chair with blood dripping into his mouth.

  “A lap dance?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Clearly my coordination leaves something to be desired. You really want me dancing on your lap right now?”

  “Maybe you’re right.” He glanced down as his lap twitched in response. “But I might be outvoted.”

  “Forget it, Will.” I pulled an old t-shirt out of a drawer and stepped into a clean pair of panties, not even stopping to think about picking pretty ones. Though, from the way he zoned out, he didn’t seem to care. Unless his glazed look was from a concussion.

  Even sprawled in that stupid death chair, with his upper lip stained red, he still made my heart beat a little faster. His long legs stretched out before him, the dark hair on his calves drawing my gaze down to his feet that always looked tanned, even in the dead of winter. Slouching a little barely put a crease in his flat belly, his six-pack collapsing a little like an accordion. His broad shoulders completely blotted out the chair, and I noticed a tiny constellation of freckles near a vaccination scar on his left tricep.

  But it was the assessing hungry look in his eyes that took my breath away. Will was my friend, and now he was my lover. Could we balance both? What would have to give in order to make it work?

  And what would he take?

  “Are you going to get dressed?” I asked him, running a brush through my hair to hide my shaking hands.

  “Are you?”

  I looked down. “I’m dressed for bed.”

  “So am I.”

  “You’re going to get cold walking across campus like that, then.”

  He merely raised an eyebrow. I sat on my bed, criss cross applesauce, until I noticed him staring at my, uh, apple pie and stretched my legs out instead with my thighs pressed together.