Table for Two-epub

by Jess Dee

  Liv drew her gaze away from his cock long enough to look up at his face. His eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw clenched in a grimace.

  With trembling hands, Liv removed her jeans and sodden panties, tossing them both to the floor. Then, still shivering, she climbed to her knees on the bed, placed her hands on his chest and whispered in his ear. “Fuck me, James.” Her voice shook as much as the rest of her.

  “God, Liv. You’re killing me.”

  “Now!” If he didn’t, she’d be forced to take matters into her own hands, and at this point, her own hands would suffice just fine. It would take very little to push her over the edge and straight into a powerful climax.

  He opened his eyes, and as she stared into them, losing herself in the depths of his gaze, he tucked his hand between her legs and drew one finger over the seam of her pussy.

  Shock waves of pleasure ricocheted through her.

  “So wet,” he muttered thickly.

  “Hurry,” she growled and pushed his hand away. It would take one more touch, just one, and she’d lose it.

  “Condom,” he said before opening a drawer beside his bed. He withdrew a small square package, ripped it open and sheathed himself with sure fingers.

  For the second time that night, Liv found herself drooling. James had a quiet confidence about him. The self-assured way he rolled on the protection while staring at her with passion-drunk eyes was sexy as hell.

  Still on her knees, she shuffled back into the middle of the bed, making space for her friend.

  James climbed on the bed, matching her stance. His knees touched hers, his hand cupped her neck and he pulled her in for another blistering kiss. While his mouth seduced and hypnotized, he twisted them around and lay back, pulling Liv on top of him, not once releasing her lips. She lay along his length, bewildered by his size and bewitched by his tongue. His erection lay wedged between his stomach and hers.

  James placed a hand on each of her knees and tugged, spreading her legs until she straddled him. “Next time, I want you underneath me, with your legs wrapped around my back.”

  Next time? She should probably say something about that. Warn him there wasn’t going to be a next time, but he fed her another drugging kiss and she forgot to mention it.

  “Tonight, pretty one, you ride me.” He tucked her knees next to his hips and placed his hands on her waist before fusing their lips together once more. As he kissed her, he maneuvered them both, tugging her up his body, until her pussy skimmed over his cock.

  She cried out at the sensation, breaking the kiss. It was too hard to breathe, moan and kiss. They all required more coordination than she was capable of.

  He rocked his hips so the tip of his cock teased her slit. “Fuck me, Liv. While I watch.”

  Helpless to refuse, Liv placed her hands on his shoulders, and using him for both balance and grip, pushed herself up so she sat on him, straddled him, and in this position, with a simple twist, she fucked him also. His shaft breached her pussy and as she pressed down, he thrust up, filling her completely.

  God, that felt good. And unfamiliar. Liv hadn’t slept with anyone besides Anton in a long time. James was bigger than Anton. Everywhere. His shaft was thicker and longer, and filled her more snugly than Anton’s ever had.

  Her head spun as she gave herself time to adjust to his girth. It shouldn’t surprise her. Everything about James was big. And hard. And, as she was fast realizing, satisfying.

  She cautiously ground down on him, learning how much of his cock she could take inside.

  All of it. She just had to take it slow.

  She straightened her back and rested her hands on his thighs. The angle pushed him in deeper, and she gasped and dropped her head back as pleasure skittered through her bones.

  “You are…so…fucking beautiful.”

  The awe was back in James’s voice, and she opened one lazy eye to find him looking at her with that dark chocolate gaze of his.

  “So sexy.”

  His gaze moved from her face down to her breasts—where his eyes widened in appreciation—then dropped to her waist. He ran his tongue over his lower lip, leaving it damp and succulent and looking good enough to eat.

  Liv might have leaned forward for a nibble, had he not shifted his hand and trailed his thumb down to the mound of her pussy and over the thin strip of hair that led to her clit.

  And just like that, the tremors were back. Her body shook, and she waited in suspended animation for him to move his thumb lower.

  He didn’t. He left it where it was and brought his gaze back to her face.

  “James,” she murmured.

  “Yeah, pretty one?”

  A wave of lust washed over her, and she clenched both her stomach and pussy muscles as she rode the tide of desire, desperate for him to touch her. Liv thrust upward in a futile attempt to reach his thumb.

  “Fuck,” James muttered through clenched teeth. The tendons in his neck stood out in stark relief and he squeezed her hip hard. His thumb remained still.

  Liv tried to speak. Had she found her voice, she’d have begged him to touch her. But speech was impossible. Thrusting upward had served only to change the angle of penetration. James’s cock rubbed against something inside her that sent an electric buzz clean through her nervous system.

  She rocked once more and then, because it felt so amazing, she did it again and again. In fact, now she’d started, she couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to. Sitting astride James, with her knees tucked into his sides, riding him, was perhaps the single most pleasurable event in Liv’s life.

  Whether it was James himself, their preexisting bond of friendship and trust or the unexpected lightning bolt of desire between them, Liv wasn’t sure. All she knew was being with him, fucking him, was nothing less than extraordinary.

  There was no sense of inhibition, no shyness of the first time with someone new. She knew James. Had known him for years, so letting go of any reserve was easy. And once she let go, there was no holding back.

  Liv rode him with wild abandon, swinging her hips, rocking up and grinding down, seeking the pleasure he delivered with every thrust. James’s husky groans served only to encourage her.

  Passion flared in electric arcs between them. Seconds passed, or maybe it was hours. Time lost meaning as she danced on him, an effortless rhythm developing between them.

  It was perfect. Exactly what Liv needed. The rest of the world ceased to exist. Work was shut out. It was her and James, here, together. Her and James and the whirlwind of desire that had flared from nothing.

  “So sexy,” James murmured.

  Liv looked at him from beneath heavy eyelids.

  His eyes were hooded, his lips parted and his nostrils flared. He couldn’t seem to look anywhere but at her breasts.

  “Knew when I saw them earlier, they’d look like this.” He ran his hand up to her ribs, and his fingers grazed the underside of her left breast. He left it there for a heartbeat before it fell away. “Can’t take my eyes off them, Liv. I fucking love how they bounce. Love how they look when you ride me.”

  Liv ran her own hands up over her sides until she cupped a breast in each hand, leaving the nipples exposed. She rocked while holding herself.

  James’s gaze tracked her movements. “Play with them, pretty one.”

  “Play with me, James.” She thrust upward, another effort to get his thumb on her clit.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Play with you?”

  Another thrust. “Touch me.”

  “Ah. You mean…here?” He drew his thumb down until he found her clit.

  Her answering yes came out more like a soft moan of need.

  He tapped his thumb softly. “Want me to play with your clit?”

  She shuddered. “God, yes. Please.”

  “Then play with your nipples while I watch.”

  Liv brushed her thumbs over the pebbled tips of her breasts, and a flash of heat shot through her.

  “More,” James demanded.


  She scraped her fingertips over the hard buds and another shudder jolted her body.

  James wet his lips. “Don’t stop.” Now she wasn’t the only one rocking. His hips were moving too, thrusting him deeper and deeper inside her. He held his thumb still, but every thrust ensured her clit bumped against it.

  The combined pleasure emanating from her pussy and her breasts had her eyes closing. She couldn’t keep them open.

  And finally, finally, James relented. He touched her. Really touched her, pressing his thumb down on her clit and rubbing it in tiny, heady circles.

  Liv cried out, the thrill intense.

  He thrust faster, harder. Heat built between them, climbing, searing, reaching fever pitch.

  Perspiration trickled between Liv’s breasts, and James gripped her hip again, holding her above him so he could thrust ever harder.

  It felt too good. Too intense. Pleasure assaulted her from every angle. The climax that had threatened since he’d kissed her breasts refused to be held at bay.

  She came hard, the convulsions hitting mercilessly. Her inner muscles tightened around his shaft as they spasmed, over and over. She dropped her arms, incapable of holding them up, and the cold air made her breasts tighten unbearably, the chill a shock against the heat of their passion.

  “Jesus, Liv.” James bucked wildly, making her come even harder. “Fuck. Fu-u-uck.” And then he was coming too, jerking up, emptying himself inside her.

  She forced her eyes open, wanting to watch. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed and his jaw clenched shut. His back was arched, and his massive chest heaved with every jolt of his hips.

  He was…breathtaking. Almost godlike in his release. Had the most intense climax of her life not stolen every drop of air from her lungs, his magnificence would have.

  In that second, Liv realized she could never look at James in the same light again. Watching her old friend spiral into ecstasy—while encased in her body—changed everything.

  Hours later, Liv rolled over and smashed her nose into a brick wall. She came awake with a jolt, only to realize it wasn’t a brick wall at all, but a muscle-bound male whose hand was clasped around her naked breast.

  The naked male was fast asleep, just like she’d been.

  Stunned by the ease with which she’d drifted off in his arms, Liv carefully removed his hand, lifted the doona off her body—making sure not to move it off his—and slipped out of bed.

  The last thing she wanted was for him to wake up. Then he’d want to talk about what had happened between them, and Liv wasn’t up to it. Probably because she had no idea what had happened between them. Passion had exploded. Desire had overwhelmed her. She’d slept with a friend she’d never thought twice about in a sexual manner before.

  How on earth did she explain that to him when she couldn’t explain it to herself?

  Her heart pumped madly as James muttered something and shifted to his back, but he didn’t wake. Mouthing a silent thanks, she grabbed her shoes, jeans and underwear from the floor and tiptoed into his lounge room. She hurriedly dressed, finding the rest of her clothes and her handbag scattered around in odd places.

  An inexplicable pressure on her chest told her to hurry up.

  Clutching her shoes and bag in one hand, she tiptoed to his front door, opened and closed it in silence and completed her walk of shame down the stairs and to her own apartment.

  With any luck, Ava would be asleep, and there’d be no barrage of questions from her flatmate.

  A single light was on in their open-plan unit. It shone down on the kitchen and reflected off the white Ceaserstone bench tops. Ava, dressed in the old T-shirt she loved sleeping in, stood in the center of the pool of light with a spoon in one hand and a carton of ice cream in the other. Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food. Her favorite.

  The spoon was suspended in midair, her hand halfway to her mouth. Her jaw was suspended in midair, her chin halfway to the floor.

  She gaped at Liv for a good few seconds before her gaze flickered to the front door. Then it darted back to Olivia. Her mouth shut and then opened, as though she tried to form words but failed.

  Taking full advantage of Ava’s speechlessness—because she was as unprepared to speak to Ava about the last few hours as she was to James—Liv dashed across the flat to her bedroom. “Well, g’night, Av. Sweet dreams,” she managed to squeak out a heartbeat before she closed herself in the safety of her own room, turned to her wall and banged her head against it. Twice.

  Chapter Four

  James frowned in frustration. Olivia was avoiding him—and she was doing a damn good job of it.

  Four days had passed since she’d rocked his world, and in all that time he hadn’t caught a glimpse of her in the building. His messages remained unanswered, and his attempts to see her ended in futility.

  He’d knocked on her door every day after work or when he got back from rugby training, only to have Ava shrug helplessly and tell him Liv wasn’t home. Today was no different.

  “She’s still not home, Jimmy.” Ava shot him a sympathetic look.

  He arched an eyebrow as he tucked his keys and wallet in his pocket. He’d stopped by their place rather than head straight home, on the off chance Liv would be here. “You sure ’bout that? She’s not hiding in her room, refusing to see me?”

  Ava crossed her arms over chest in indignation. “Do you think I’d make up stories for her?”

  He scrunched up his forehead and stared at her as though she were nuts. “I have no doubt you would.”

  Ava might be going through a rough patch—her confidence had taken a huge knock this past year—but when it came to her friends, she was still as fiercely protective as a mother tiger. Heck, just last month she’d stepped in front of him after a game when a member of the opposition rugby team had hurled abuse his way. The tiny scrap of a woman had stood her ground, demanding the other player, a brute of a man, back off and apologize to James.

  To James’s bewilderment, the man had toed the line, offered James an apology and requested Ava’s number—all in the same breath.

  If Liv had asked her to tell James she was out, Ava would tell James she was out.

  She grinned at him. “You’re right. I totally would.” She stepped away from the door, inviting him in. “But in this case, there’s no need. She really isn’t here.”

  James took her up on the invitation and collapsed onto one of the cream couches in the lounge room.

  Ava curled into the other, drawing her knees and feet up on the cushions.

  The room was stunning, decorated in tones of creams and whites, with just enough wisely chosen, colorful paraphernalia and bits and pieces to turn the place into a showcase. James sank into the cushion and instantly his body resisted ever getting up again. The couches were so damn comfortable, they should be illegal.

  “If it makes you feel better, I’ve hardly seen her this week either,” Ava said.

  It did, but James only grunted in response.

  “She’s been leaving at the crack of dawn and coming home after ten every night. I’ve never seen her work this hard. I probably won’t see her tonight either. I’m off to yoga in half an hour.” Ava narrowed her eyes, shooting him an accusing look. “Wait. Is she working, or is she hiding from you?”

  A bit of both, he guessed. She probably was chasing her tail trying to fix whatever had gone wrong at the office. But James had little doubt she was also hiding from him—or just downright denying that she’d been responsible for the best damn orgasm of his life. “You live with her, Av. You tell me.”

  “Oh no.” She waved a finger side to side for emphasis. “You tell me. What exactly is going on between the two of you?”

  “Going on?”

  “Don’t play dumb, mister. Liv stumbled into the flat on Sunday night, half dressed, with her hair messed up and lipstick smeared all around her mouth.” She frowned at him. “Liv never goes out looking anything less than perfect, and I sure as hell have never seen her coming home lo
oking anything less than perfect. Yet, after telling everyone she needed sleep and leaving Chelsea’s with you, she got back here well after midnight, looking like she’d just gone three rounds with the entire Australian cricket team.”

  Owing to the fact he’d been semi-comatose following sex so powerful it had knocked him sideways, he hadn’t caught a glimpse of Liv when she’d left. But damn, he would have liked to. In fact, he’d have liked a lot more than just catching a glimpse.

  The idea of waking up in the morning with her tucked into his side appealed hugely. Which was a tad confusing, since James had never had any desire to wake up beside Liv before now.

  “Are you and Liv an item? Am I going to need to buy ear plugs so I don’t hear things I don’t want to hear in the middle of the night?”

  “Things?” James asked.

  “Noises. Sex noises. From the two of you.”

  “Sex noises?”

  “You’re getting off the subject. Are you and Liv an item? Because if you are, I have to phone the others and update them on developments immediately. They’re kind of expecting you to be dead by now. They’d be…interested to find out that Liv was shagging you, not poisoning you.”

  James ran a hand through his hair. Ava was always going to give him the third degree, and trying to avoid the questions wouldn’t deter her. She’d just ask a million more.

  He gestured to Liv’s bedroom. The door was open, the room dark. “Does it look like Liv and I are an item?”

  “You’ve knocked on our door every day looking for her. I’m going to put that under the Yes column.”

  “And she hasn’t been here any of those times. What column does that go under?”

  “Yeah, that’s a definite No. But then there’s Liv’s messy arrival home—on top of her failure to return when she said she would—which would be another two votes for the Yes column.”

  “Do you have a whiteboard? You could draw up a graph to get a visual on the columns.”