No one had ever been strong enough for me before.
Suddenly, it was do or die. It was Trent or my fear.
If I let my fear win, we would never be the same again. Sure, we’d stay friends. We would always be friends. But he would drift away… He would go back to that bar. I would lose him.
Maybe not completely, but too much.
I wanted all of him.
“There could be,” I whispered.
His arm jolted in my hand.
“I think there could be more. I’d like to… try. I want to see.”
My heart was thudding so heavily in my chest I felt unsteady. My stomach was so fluttery I partially worried I might be sick. No one had ever affected me like this.
No one.
And it was because of the completely rattled and unsteady way I felt that I understood something that only shook me further.
This was real. Whatever this was, it was the most intense feeling I’d ever known.
Trent turned back, his attention going to where my hand still clung to his arm. I wasn’t trying to stop him from leaving anymore. Now I was holding on because I needed someone to ground me.
I was scared.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered and gently took his free hand and wrapped it around my forearm to slide his down and gently disengage my grip.
But he didn’t let go. Instead, he entwined his steady fingers with my quivering ones.
I ceased to think. Not because I wanted to miss the moment, but because my brain simply could not process everything at once.
In that moment, my feelings were a hundred times stronger than any thought would ever be.
Still holding my hand, Trent stepped up close. The toes of his shoes bumped my sock-covered ones. He was like a furnace, a cherished heat source when you stepped inside from a cold, blustery day. His warmth wrapped around me, and I welcomed it into my pores.
The pad of his thumb stroked over the back of my hand, reminding me of the way I’d felt in the car when he’d done the same. My stomach tightened with anticipation, and I dragged in a ragged breath.
“Are you sure?” Trent murmured, his thumb doing that stroking thing again.
I nodded because, like I said, I couldn’t speak.
His free hand came up and rested on the side of my neck. The second he made contact, my eyes slid closed as I let myself feel the current of desire flowing down to my toes.
“Hey,” he whispered, and I met his hazel gaze.
He made this sound. A cross between a grunt and growl, the kind of sound a man made when he was completely satisfied, and then the distance between us was no more.
His hand tightened slightly at my neck the second our lips made contact. The first taste was soft and easy, tentative even. It wasn’t like I expected it to be. By the way my body was humming, I expected there to be some sort of electric surge.
But it wasn’t like that.
Not when we first touched.
It was this intense feeling of relief. Of finally finding the place I belonged.
I made a sound; I heard it somewhere in the distance. Trent covered my lips again, and I opened for him, fusing our mouths completely together.
Oh God.
Suddenly, the hand holding mine was gone and I was up against his expansive, hard chest. His arm clutched around my waist, holding me close, and the hand originally at my neck was now deep in the hair on the back of my head.
He kissed deeply, far deeper than I’d ever been kissed before. He had the size, he had the strength, and dear baby Jesus, he had the tongue.
My hands clutched at his waist, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to give as good as I was getting.
His tongue wrapped around mine, and I reached up to delve my hands into his hair, but his hat got in the way. I made a sound, and he ripped his mouth free, only long enough to rip the hat off and throw it away.
Then he was on me again, and I welcomed him.
I didn’t have to bend over to deepen the kiss. I didn’t have to hunch in around him, because he was bigger than me. All I had to do was grip his head and dive in.
What was supposed to be an experiment turned to desperation. The floodgate of feelings suppressed so long was now burst open, and I declared to never go back again.
Holy fuck, I was overwhelmed.
Kissing him was like seeing the ocean for the first time. Meeting something so big it made you feel small. It was like standing beneath a galaxy or being the red “you are here” dot on a map of the world.
It was like finally understanding the answer to an impossible question.
His lips were thick and soft. He used them to completely assault mine while his tongue stroked and fucked the inside of my mouth. His hair was short beneath my palms. I loved the way it felt. Different, but in a good way. Kind of prickly when I rubbed my fingers over the back of his head.
My knees went weak, and I actually (embarrassingly) began to sag toward the floor.
Trent was there. He tightened his grip on my waist, and I discovered I was right. He was a really strong net and with him I would never fall.
Our mouths made a slight gasping sound when we pulled apart. Or maybe that was just the pair of us trying to catch our breath.
Soon as he lifted his head, he spun and walked backward so I was pressed against the wall, so I had somewhere to lean. My chest was still heaving when Trent started to pull back.
“Wait,” I ground out, breathless.
He came back.
“Do it again.” My voice was so raspy I barely recognized it.
His lips, which were actually slick and swollen-looking, tilted up.
He wasn’t gentle or tentative when he came at me this time. This time he approached like the football player he was.
Honestly, it was probably good he’d put me up against the wall, because I’d never been with someone with so much strength before. I wasn’t prepared for the way he was able to bulldoze into me.
Been with someone… Was I with Trent?
The thought was fleeting because this time I was able to feel more than just an overwhelming sense of rightness.
Trent’s entire body rubbed against mine. I shifted, spreading my legs so his thigh could slip between them. His tongue curled around mine at the very same moment I felt his hard-as-steel dick against my hip.
My chest rumbled with pleasure. The sound caused me to still.
Did I just enjoy—no, revel—in the feeling of my best friend’s dick against me?
Trent sensed the change and lifted his head.
He backed up just a fraction, enough so I couldn’t feel his rock-hard erection or the solid wall of his pecs against me.
“Umm, wow,” he said, swiping at his lower lip with his thumb.
The action tightened my stomach and made my own cock twitch.
In the same moment, I had two realizations:
1) Holy shit… I was rocking a raging boner just like him.
and
2) I hadn’t even noticed my own horniness because I’d been so wrapped up in a single kiss.
No kiss had ever—not even for a fraction of a second—made me forget other things (really good things like orgasms) sometimes came with kisses.
We kissed just to try.
To see if maybe there was something more between us than friendship.
We had an answer now. An unequivocal, resounding reply.
There was definitely more between Trent and me than just friendship.
Way, way much more.
Trent
The scruff on his face nearly did me in.
I couldn’t stop looking at his jaw, thinking about the way it felt when my lips and chin rubbed over his.
You ever take a sip of freshly brewed iced tea? Where the drink is still slightly warm and super sweet from being boiled to dissolve the sugar. But your glass is filled with ice, so you get the combination of warm and cold swirling together as it hits your tongue. That first sip while the tem
peratures mix is always the best.
That’s what it’s like to kiss someone with a scruffy jaw. Except every sip from their lips tastes like that. The ice never melts; the temperature never changes.
Drew was like an endless glass of that perfect liquid.
His lips were smooth, but the hair around them was textured. As we kissed, the sensation of his stubble moving against me was addictive. Soft but rough. Itchy but soothing. It added a layer to a simple kiss I never knew existed.
One.
That’s all it took.
One and done.
I was done wondering. Done trying to tell myself this was wrong. Done attempting to convince myself I didn’t really love him.
I did.
I loved Drew. The kind of love I thought only men and women could have. The kind of love I saw between Romeo and Rimmel. Between Braeden and Ivy.
I wanted more.
The urge to grab his face and rub my lips all along his jaw and fill my arms with his body was almost too much.
Not yet. Maybe not ever.
As urgent as it felt, there was an urge even stronger. To protect Drew. To shield him. There was no way in hell he didn’t feel at least half of what I did a few moments ago. I’d felt his hard-on, though I tried not to rub against it.
His erection wasn’t the only thing I felt, though. I felt the weakness in his knees and the tremble in his hands.
He was scared.
I understood that probably better than anyone. This was unchartered territory for both of us, and I didn’t want to fuck it up.
Drew and I were friends first, and whatever this was… that was second. He needed my friendship right now more than I needed to ravage his lips.
I wanted to know what he was thinking. What he was feeling. If he was as totally lost in me as I was in him.
Fat chance.
But a guy could dream, couldn’t he?
He was still against the wall, looking a little shell-shocked. I retreated, giving him back the personal space I was oh so happy to invade.
“Want some coffee?” I asked, grabbing some mugs out of the cabinet and turning my back to him. Once I was totally turned, I reached into my jeans and adjusted my junk. I was still rock hard.
Clearly, my dick didn’t agree it was a good idea to give Drew some space.
“Uh, sure,” he answered.
I poured the rich liquid into two mugs and added the correct amount of cream and sugar. When I was finished, it seemed like the simple task hadn’t taken long enough. Electricity still sizzled in the air, and my heart was still thudding erratically.
I leaned back against the counter’s edge and looked across the room. “Where is everyone?”
“Not here,” he said. His eyes sought mine. “Won’t be back ‘til Sunday night.”
Well, that answer wasn’t going to help soften up my dick.
He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath his skin. Once again, I felt my eyes lingering on the light-colored scruff on his jaw.
“I like you unshaven,” I blurted out. I reared back like I’d punched myself in the face. I wasn’t the type to say stupid shit. I was the type that kept it all contained.
He was unraveling me.
I worried my obvious attraction to his facial hair would be too much.
I underestimated him. His teeth flashed, and a warm, almost flirty chuckle bubbled from between his lips. Drew rubbed his palm over his chin and neck.
It made me jealous.
“Yeah?”
I bobbed my head, not trusting my tongue enough to not say something else I might regret.
“Noted,” he murmured. The blue of his eyes narrowed on my face, his gaze dropping to my lips.
He liked kissing me.
Euphoria made me lightheaded, and I covered my smile by turning back to pick up the mugs. When I carried them across the room, Drew’s eyes followed me, like he was hungry.
This is good. Let him think about it. Let him want without any pressure.
Everyone knew a warm engine went faster than a cold one.
“Wanna watch a movie?” I asked and extended the mug between us.
Surprise flickered in his eyes. Like he couldn’t believe we’d just devoured each other’s faces and now I was handing him coffee and suggesting a movie. I wanted to laugh out loud.
Did he want me to jump him?
Christ, I wanted to.
“Sure,” he finally said, straightening and reaching for the cup. I made sure our fingers didn’t brush when I handed it over.
The living room was dark; the only light was what came in from the kitchen. I knew the room well and didn’t need much light to guide me, so I didn’t bother to turn on the lamp. The dark might make it easier for him to think anyway.
The couch was across from the flat-screen hanging above the fireplace. In front of it was a white-painted coffee table we weren’t supposed to put our feet on. Ivy said so.
I set the coffee down, grabbed the remote, and sank into the cushions. Seconds later, I kicked off the shoes I was still wearing and propped my feet up on the table.
The back of the couch had some furry throw draped over it, and I leaned my head back against it while I flipped through the channels.
Drew was hovering close beside the couch, and I knew he was trying to decide if he was going to sit on it with me or in a nearby chair. I’d purposely left a lot of space on the end of the sofa.
“There’s a Terminator marathon on.” I motioned toward the screen. “I haven’t seen these in a long time.”
“It’s because the new Terminator just came out on DVD not very long ago,” Drew said and plopped down on the couch.
Score!
“Yeah? Sweet. We can rent it after we watch all these.”
Seconds later, his feet joined mine on the table (we weren’t touching), and it felt like a small victory. Hanging out like this was normal for us. Whatever normal was.
It was a good movie, entertaining. But I could only be entertained by it so much because part of my brain was so focused on his presence. On the way he smelled, the rhythm of his breathing. Every time he moved, I felt it. I was so attuned to his every move it was making me crazy.
Toward the end of the first movie, one of the more memorable lines came up, and we both quoted it along with the actor.
Both of us laughed and went for a high-five.
Only he didn’t let go.
The second our palms smacked together, Drew’s hand rotated and wrapped around mine.
My stomach literally dropped. Like I’d just jumped off a cliff.
Our hands lowered toward the cushions between us, and then tentatively, Drew threaded his fingers through mine.
I felt like I was in eighth grade again and I was on my first date at the movies. I’d sweated through my shirt I was so incredibly nervous. It had taken me until the last five minutes of the movie to reach for my date’s hand. And when she didn’t pull away, I literally thought I was the shit.
“Is this okay?” he asked. His voice was low and reminded me so much of that eighth grader I was just thinking of.
I couldn’t help it. I glanced down at our entwined hands. “It’s better than okay,” I whispered.
He turned back to the movie. I did, too, but I didn’t even see the screen. I couldn’t even have told you what was playing. All I felt was his palm against mine. The way his fingers folded into mine perfectly. I didn’t engulf his hand; he didn’t engulf mine. It was like a perfect match.
My dick went back to its previously rigid state. I was beginning to think this could be a problem.
I didn’t want him to see and freak. So with my free hand, I pulled the blanket down from behind my head and tossed it over my lap.
Drew glanced at me, then back to the TV. He totally knew what I was doing. That was one thing about trying to hide a hard-on from another dude. It was kinda impossible. Drew knew all the tricks, too.
He didn’t call me out, though, and he didn�
�t pull back his hand.
When the first movie went off, he dropped his feet off the table, and my stomach tightened. I wasn’t ready to get up yet. I wasn’t ready for him to get up yet.
“I gotta piss,” he announced and stood.
When he was out of sight, I wondered if maybe he used the bathroom as an excuse to let go of my hand.
“You want anything from the kitchen?” he called.
All I need is you. “Nah! I’m good!”
He came back carrying a bag of chips and two sodas, which he set near my feet and then plopped down.
This time he sat closer than before. If I moved over just an inch, our legs would be pressed together.
Could Drew actually be into me, too?
Beneath the blanket, my cock jerked. It was still fucking hard. Seriously. Apparently, one kiss from Drew was like the equivalent of an overdose of Viagra.
I’d never been hard this long before. I’d always just taken care of the situation.
But I couldn’t right now. It was like sick torture, and I enjoyed it.
“Second one’s starting,” he said, popped the top to the can, and took a sip. I watched his profile as he stared up at the TV. After a few seconds, the can was returned to the table and Drew’s back hit the cushions. Our shoulders were so wide they bumped together.
I wanted to reach for his hand, but I was unsure.
What if he didn’t want me to?
What if he does?
I glanced down at his long fingers, resting loosely on the top of his thigh. I moved like I was settling back into the couch a little bit more and dropped my arm near his. The back of his hand fell open. I took a chance and reached for it. His fingers opened wide to make room for mine.
“When I’m drunk, I call my grandma and tell her she’s hot,” I said, still looking at the TV.
“In a Scottish accent.” Drew snickered.
“You knew?” I shot him a surprised look.
“Yeah.” He chortled.
“Did Ivy tell you?” I demanded.
Drew’s hand went stiff in mine. “Ivy knows?” The humor in his voice was no longer there.
I hesitated. “Yeah, I told her a long time ago,” I explained. “The night she told me she was into Braeden.”
“‘Cause you were interested in her.” His tone was harder now, like he was upset. Drew started to pull back, and my chest seized in panic.
#Junkie (GearShark #1) Page 17