Twenty-Six
Erin
“I want to be with you.”
I may have rushed into this a bit, I realize, as Reese stands at his front door, his hand still on the knob, his jaw hanging open.
After my gallant resignation at the Journal, I rushed right over here, not wanting to press pause on anything in my life anymore. It’s amazing how freeing it can be to, in not so many words, tell a bunch of people you hate to go fuck themselves.
“I didn’t realize you were coming over. You woke me up.” He runs a hand through his cropped curls, his abs on full view and sleep still lingering in the corners of his eyes.
I had to pause before I continued on my mission, because damn, he was gorgeous.
Walking into his apartment, uninvited, while he still stands at the door, I launch into it. “I quit my job today. Just up and quit. And I realized something … I can’t just wait for my life to happen to me. I can’t be afraid of every single thing just because I have some preconceived notion about it. I want to be a full-time blogger. I want to be my own boss, and do what I love. And … I want to be with you. Dating, together, whatever you want to call it.”
Reese is still standing at the front door, it half ajar, rubbing his head like I’ve just smacked him upside it with a frying pan. “You want to get married?”
I shuffle my feet. “I’m not saying anything about the pact right now. But I am saying … let’s be together. No one else. Okay?”
He walks to me, kisses me on the nose. “Well, okay. I was already doing that, I just didn’t discuss it with you because you’d freak-out and do that whole ice bitch routine on me. But I’m glad you caught up.”
That tight ass walks past me, navy blue boxers giving me a nice full view of it as Reese walks. “Well … all right.”
I feel both giddy and free after all of this confessing and change.
“You want some breakfast?” He stands at the kitchen counter, still half naked.
“It’s four p.m,” I point out.
“Well, it’s like seven a.m. for me, but I’ll eat anything. Mac and cheese?” His face lights up.
“I feel like you could be in prison, on death row, and they’d ask you for your last meal request, and you’d ask for Kraft.” I chuckle, setting my bag down and slipping my shoes off.
“You know it, babe.”
Reese stutters in his actions, noticing what he just called me. It’s a romantic endearment, and something he’s never called me. It’s the first time we’re acknowledging that we’re dating.
“Babe or peas? Because I feel like everyone in the world is babe. I want to be different.” I smooth it over, letting him know by my silent agreement that it’s okay for him to regard me in a romantic way.
“You’ll always be the peas to my carrots.” He grins a Forrest Gump grin, and then goes back to making his macaroni and cheese.
“Do you have any candy? I could use some candy as a reward for quitting my shitty job.” I walk over to his pantry, scouring it.
Reese walks up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and then leaning down to kiss my neck. It’s a strange feeling … almost like coming home. Why did I deny this for so long?
“I think I got so lost in your admitting you wanted to be with me, and the fact that you woke me from my slumber, that I didn’t properly congratulate you. I’m so fucking proud of you, peas. You’re already killing it with your blog, it’s only going to go up from here. Just remember who supported you first when Carrie Bradshaw calls.”
I lean back into him, inhaling his rumpled, just out of bed smell. It was addicting. “Thank you. And I’m also glad that all of those episodes of Sex and the City paid off for you.”
“I can be your Mr. Big. Also, there are Twizzlers right there.”
Was it cheesy that he always kept my favorite candy in his pantry? Maybe, but I kind of loved it.
Half an hour later, we’re watching Jeopardy on the couch, my leg slung over Reese’s and his head leaning on my chest as he lounged.
“Let’s just do it.” Reese forks a spoonful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth.
I snap off a Twizzler between my teeth. “Do what?”
“Have sex.”
He says it so nonchalantly that I almost choke on the piece of candy sliding down my throat.
“Excuse me?” I cough through my shocked question.
“Sex. You know, penis in vagina, orgasms, sweat, two becoming one—”
I hold up a hand, cutting him off. “Yeah, I know what sex is, thanks to eighth grade health class. Which you were in, by the way. As my best friend. You know, a best friend you don’t get naked and intimate with.”
Reese stands up and scoffs. “Oh, come on, peas. You just showed up at my apartment and practically admitted you’re crazy about me. And I’ve seen your boobs. Sex is a big part of any relationship. If we are going to do the damn thing, we have to see if we have any chemistry between us. Not that the kisses between us didn’t prove that.”
I hold up a finger, my insides quivering at the thought of getting horizontal with the handsome hunk standing in front of me. Damn him, those kisses were good. And I’d been thinking about what more would feel like for months now.
“First of all, shut up. Second of all, I agreed to be together. Not marry you. That doesn’t automatically mean you get the milk. You need to buy the cow. Maybe I won’t give it up until we get married.” I harrumph at the end of my little speech.
That makes Reese nearly choke. “You just admitted we might get married, so ha!”
I growl. “Not fair, you tricked me.”
“I couldn’t trick you into anything and you know it. Now, can we have sex?” He flashes me the dimple.
“Way to be blunt.” I roll my eyes.
“You love it when I’m blunt. If I tried to carry you into the bedroom, with flower petals and candles over every surface, you’d probably barf in your mouth. So here I am, just doing what you asked me to do. Be transparent, not cheesy. And I’m telling you that I’d very much like to have sex with you.”
He had a point.
Having sex with Reese. I guess I hadn’t really thought about it since he initiated this whole pact thing. I’d contemplated being together, got heated over our kisses, and it might have been a passing blip on the radar. But, actual sex?
And now that he’d said it, it was the only thing I could see. Like a screen set up at the forefront of my brain, I was playing every scenario over and over. Reese on top of me, what his cock would look like, how I would feel …
We were adults. We knew what we were doing. And he was respecting my wishes not to turn this into some Julia Roberts’ flick.
“Okay. Let’s have sex.”
Twenty-Seven
Reese
She follows me into the bedroom, both of us going to opposite sides of the bed.
It’s one of the only times in our lives that I think I’ve seen Erin be shy, and I realize she’s nervous. Good, because I’m nervous too. I’m not too man enough to deny that. It’s fucking terrifying, thinking about having sex with the one woman I’ve always wanted to do this with.
“So should we …” Erin trails off, not finishing her questioning, but playing with the hem of her T-shirt.
I realize I’m going to have to walk us through this. Swallowing, I try to put on my best “I got this” face, and walk to her side. Smiling what I hope is a warm expression, I gather her into me, holding her hips and caressing them in my hands.
We’ve always been about wit and banter, and I’m about to crack a joke to ease the tension, but I realize that what we need right now is the opposite of that. This is a big moment, and it should be treated as such. Even if Erin doesn’t want fireflies and getting caught in the rain, I’m going to make this special.
Bending down, I meet her mouth with mine, feeling the give of her lips as I kiss her. I nibble on her full lower lip, and move my left hand to tangle in her blond locks, and angle her head so I can take c
ontrol as I stroke her tongue with my own. Moving down as my right hand sneaks under her shirt, I lay a trail of open mouth kisses across her neck, collarbone, and shoulder as I pull the button-down she’d been wearing from work.
“Mmm …” Erin purrs, and I know I’ve found a sweet spot.
The crook of her neck and shoulder, toward the front, sloping toward her breasts, rather than the back. Noted. I suck on that spot again and am rewarded with a groan. My fingers fumble for the buttons on her shirt, wanting to get her naked. My cock is protesting against the restraint of my boxers, my body still mostly bare from when she woke up pounding on my door.
I finally get to the last button with an exaggerated growl, and Erin is looking at me with those chocolate eyes like she might smack me if I don’t hurry up. She reaches for me, her hands raking down my bare back, mine finding the smooth flesh beneath the garment now hanging off her shoulders.
I go straight for her bra, panting at the teenage boy’s dream I’m about to live out right now. Every summer since she turned thirteen, I have been tortured by those breasts … supple and larger than average. The perfect tear drops, more than a handful each. My fingers are aching and greedy, pushing the cups down instead of undoing it around the back like a gentleman. Not that I’d be graceful in that attempt … men were not given bras to wear for a reason. We’d never be able to get them on or off.
“Gah …” I have to stop what I’m doing when she slides her hands past my waistband, gripping me.
“Wow … I always wondered …” Erin gives me a devilish wink.
“And?” I choke on the words as she jerks me, and if she keeps going I don’t think I’ll be able to stand upright for much longer.
“I didn’t nickname you carrots falsely.” She smirks.
I won’t lie and say my chest doesn’t inflate a little with pride.
I have to move us to the bed, or I’ll probably trip over myself while she’s cupping my balls and tugging my cock. Pulling her with me, I fall backward, both of us bouncing as I land in my king-sized bed.
Erin giggles, but I silence her with my mouth. I want to go slow, but in my head, I keep thinking this is taking too long. I shove my hands into her bra, rolling her nipples between my fingers.
“Ahh, not like that.” She drops her head to my neck. “I don’t like too much nipple play. Sorry …”
I put two fingers under her chin, and made her look up at me. “Don’t apologize to me in bed. Ever. Just tell me what you like, what makes you feel good. Yeah?”
She nods, her hair fanning out around us like silky curtains.
I flip her over so that her back hits the bed, and her hand comes out of my boxers. I need to focus on her or my one shot at this will be over way before it started. Working quickly, I get her naked, running my hands up and down each part of her, trying to take snapshots in my mind of her rosy flesh beneath me.
Kissing down her thighs, and biting and sucking until I hear her moan, I end up between them, poised to do my best work. I want her screaming my name so that the neighbors hear it. Preparing myself, and squeezing my ass tight to keep from coming, I taste her for the first time.
And nearly faint. Exactly as sweet as I thought she would be. Somewhere in the universe, fifteen-year-old me is giving me a fist bump.
Erin chuckles from above. “The alphabet trick, really? Who have you been sleeping with and why did they lead you to believe that worked?”
My heart sank and my manhood shriveled up into nothing. I was screwing this up, when what I should be doing is screwing Erin. Screwing her like a bull in heat.
I looked up, her thighs making parentheses around my face. “What, that doesn’t feel good?”
She sits up, giving me a sympathetic smile. Great, just what every guy wants while he’s trying to give a girl an orgasm. “Reese … you don’t have to use all of those fancy tricks on me. Just lick my pussy, and rub my clit. Anyone who tells you otherwise is bullshitting you.”
I raise my hands up as if to say sorry. “You just tell me what you like. All I want to do is make you feel good.”
I head back down there, determined to do better. And I think I do, if her moans tell me anything. I suck and lick, rub and finger. I keep it straightforward, no fancy foreplay, and Erin seems to respond. With each stroke of my mouth or hand, she clenches around me, guttural sounds vibrating through her body. I feast on her like I’ve never eaten a meal in my life.
“I want you, now,” Erin moans.
God, yes. This is it. I slide my boxers down as I crawl up the bed, kicking them off my feet as I align myself between Erin’s thighs. I gaze into her eyes, the same ones that I’ve looked into for so many years. Her hair, splayed across my pillow. The way her mouth sucks in air, the nervous anticipation sending goose bumps skittering over her skin.
We both hold our breath as I push into her, my cock twitching with the need for release before I’m even halfway inside. I have to grind my teeth together to gain some composure, I don’t want to embarrass myself any further.
“I’m not saying this to pad your ego, but I’m not sure you’re going to fit.” Erin’s smile is teasing, but also riddled with anxiety.
“Does it hurt?” I brush my hand down her cheek.
“It’s just … been a while. And … you’re big. But don’t let that go to your head.” She slaps my butt.
I jump a little, pushing in farther, and we each groan. “Tell me what I can do to make you feel good.”
I wanted to know how she got off. I wanted to know how to have her eyes rolling back in her head.
“You know that spot on my neck?”
I stroked just the smallest bit, and bit back a growl of satisfaction. “Yes.”
“Bite it until I tell you I’m coming.”
The word off her lips, knowing that she was going to come if I did that, it almost made me come. Lust wrapped around my spine as I fully covered my body with hers, angling my lips to slide over the spot that made her moan. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and I gripped her back, lifting her shoulders with my hands to get an angle that had me quivering as I drove into her.
And the whole time, I was sucking on her neck, probably tattooing the imprint of my lips on it. Erin was sobbing with pleasure as I pounded, alternating from fast to slow, deep to shallow strokes. I was losing my damn mind, exerting myself emotional and physically to the brink of madness.
“I’m going to—” Erin couldn’t even finish the thought before she was wailing, clawing at my back.
My lips stayed pressed to that spot on her neck as I reached the edge, gasping into blackness as I came, shooting hot and forceful inside her.
There had never been anything more natural than this. I was home, and she’d always been the place I was meant to end up in.
Twenty-Eight
Erin
Having lived in my apartment for almost five years, I know the sounds and goings-on of the outside world at every time of day.
Which is why I bolt awake when church bells that I do not recognize as part of my neighborhood begin chiming. I sit up like I’ve just pulled myself out of a dream where rabid dogs are chasing me, or I get a really bad haircut.
Reese’s gray sheets pool around me, more like T-shirt material instead of the silky linens I have on my bed. They’re not bad, just different.
Which is kind of how my new relationship status with Reese is. It’s not bad, it’s just different. And by bad, I mean holy cow, that sex blew my mind. After we both stopped trying so hard, or trying to respect the other’s feelings. Or doing that stupid shit that men and women do to come off sexy without actually feeling satisfied during sex. Yeah, we put all of that aside, and my world literally shook. I didn’t know it could do that.
No man had ever actually asked me how I wanted it. But then again, I’d never been comfortable enough to express my desires to another man. I felt comfortable with Reese, and the weirdness of being with him in a sexual way faded quickly when I’d seen how big his cock was.
I mean, damn, had I been missing out for all of these years. I may not have a penchant for romance and heart-eyes, but I could appreciate a beautiful penis. And Reese? He had a beautiful penis.
The only thing I have on are my underwear, and I realized I came over here with nothing. Not even a toothbrush, although Reese didn’t seem to mind my breath when he was drilling me from behind for the second time last night.
It’s not like I’ve never worn my best friend’s clothes before. Hell, my favorite hangout T-shirt was one of his Mathletes shirts from high school. Speaking of Reese, where was he?
Besides the foreign sounds from outside his apartment, I didn’t hear a shower or the microwave. Or the TV on the Today Show, Reese’s favorite morning show. He is a big Al Roker fan.
Glancing over at his spot on the bed, I see a piece of paper folded on his pillow. Picking it up, I can’t deny that I let out a girly sigh when I read it.
Peas,
This is my first love note to you. Forget about all of those other notes I sent you in high school that complained about being in class or that my parents took the car away from me again. This is the real deal.
Last night was incredible. You look absolutely stunning as I write this, watching you sleep. And don’t roll your eyes at that, it’s not creepy. You’re gorgeous and lying in my bed naked, I couldn’t not stare. In fact, never leave my bed.
I had to go to the hospital for an early morning shift, but I left coffee in the pot. Stay awhile. Relax, you deserve it. Or, like I know you will because you can’t sit still, use my computer to start planning how Shoes and the City is going to take over the blogging world. I am so proud of you. Text me when you wake up.
Forever yours,
Carrots
It was corny, but so typical Reese that I had to smile. And somewhere deep down, that iceberg that encased my heart melted a little more. Funny how he had begun to chip and sink it since he moved back to Philly.
Save the Date Page 11