The Reward

by Jade A. Waters

  After he finished, Dean took his time tracing imaginary vines up my legs, strumming my skin like I was some sort of instrument he knew how to play, because God, did he ever. I ached by the time his fingers reached the top of my thighs. He skimmed them along the crease between my legs and my pelvis, breathing hot air over my sex. I opened my mouth to whisper, “Please,” but my pleading came out more air than word.

  Dean held up a finger. “Slowly,” he repeated. Then he sat back and collected my bound ankles in his hands, the seconds ticking past at an excruciating pace while he lifted my legs in front of him and sat up to rub his full cock along the outside of one of them. When he used his free hand to start stroking himself—nice and slow, letting me see the fullness of his cockhead, and how fucking hard his shaft was with his sexy fingers sliding from the root of him and up—I trembled. I was losing my mind at the sight of the silky drop of pre-come glistening on his tip.

  “You’re so cruel.”

  Dean kissed my calf and took one more drag along his length. Once he freed himself for me to view, every glorious inch made me crave him. But he pushed my legs way up over my head, his two fingers quick to my opening, the tips dipping inside. “Cruel, huh?” He pulsed them against sensitive nerve endings, and my eyelids fluttered.

  “Yes. Oh, yes!” Dean hooked his thumb over my clit and rubbed until I groaned. “Fuck...” His devil of a grin drove me nuts, as did his fingers easing in, testing my walls. I growled when he reached my depths, but Dean was taking his sweet time with full access to my slit like this, his expression between my wetness and my face rife with amusement.

  “You see why I want more of you, don’t you?” Dean said, his voice guttural with the third finger he added, using it to trace my opening before slipping it in. “You’re irresistible. Greedy, sexy and oh-so-good...” I jerked against the bed strap at the plunge of his fingers all the way in, the nylon strand lifting beneath the tops of my shoulders to yield a different friction than the maddening one he sped within my cunt. Dean’s thrusts were slow but deep, filling me and stirring up a wash of pleasure in the growing haze of my mind.

  “I want to feel you. Please!” I begged. His response was a harder rub of my clit with his thumb. I clenched my eyes shut, his skillful touch ratcheting up the excitement, the motions he synced up between his thrusts and rubs driving me ever closer. Dean took a nibble of the back of my calf before shoving his fingers inside. “Please!”

  Dean crept up fast, yanking his fingers away and following them with the length of his cock. His first thrust filled me up, and I moaned and tugged against my binds.

  “Fuck, yes!”

  “Christ, you’re hot inside.” Dean withdrew until the crest of his shaft tickled the entrance of my cunt, then drove again. His thickness shocked me, his force winding me up tight. “Maya...”

  “More!” I cried.

  Dean looped his arm around my upper thighs, using his hold to lift my pelvis up, allowing him to penetrate me as deep as he could with his next thrust. I gritted my teeth and tugged against the strap, already whimpering, spinning, ecstasy seeping through my veins. Dean shifted his thumb back to my clit and circled it before pressing hard.

  “Yes, Dean, yes!”

  “You’re so good. Yes.” Dean clamped his teeth on my ankle, his motions growing more forceful while his thumb tipped me over the edge. I gasped for air, moaning with the pleasure seizing me. It tore through unhindered with the binds that held me there, letting me do nothing but take the stroke of Dean’s thumb and the heavy drives of his cock, and listen to the sound of his groans growing louder while my orgasm ripped through my body in a ferocious wave.

  “Yes!” I wailed.

  “I’m going to come. Fuck...”

  Dean slammed as hard as he could, his balls clapping against my ass for his last several strokes until he stayed rooted in me. His come coated the spasms that rocked my pelvis, but he didn’t let me go, both of us steady together, my fingers clenched into fists and my toes tingling. I soared with the warmth of him inside, too high to come down for the longest time.

  When we caught our breaths and opened our eyes, Dean said, “Bad news.” I frowned, confused. My head hadn’t stopped spinning, my body electrified beyond belief. “The hangover’s still here.” I whimpered at his withdrawal, our bliss dripping down between my ass cheeks and onto the sheets in a cooling gush.

  I sucked in a breath. But Dean slipped his fingers inside, fucking me with them while I swung my head, overwhelmed.

  “Might need a second round before you go, Maya.”

  * * *

  After Dean and I finished our second fuck and stumbled out of our hurried shower, I was barely left with enough time to race home, change my clothes and speed over to Selby’s. The window of time was extra crunched after our extended goodbye kiss; we’d realized we wouldn’t see each other again until Dean met my brother Thursday night, and with all the wedding prep madness I’d be doing with Selby for the big day on Saturday, we probably wouldn’t squeeze in a ton of focused conversation, either, so it was necessary. Dean had held me in a lingering embrace, his lips sweet on mine, his body solid and reminding me how wonderful I felt in his arms until I’d had to get into my car.

  Still, the sensation left me floating along the highway back to Alameda, the warm August weather and the morning sun illuminating my path as if to complement the patter of my heart. After I popped the mile from my condo to Selby and Alex’s, the ecstatic dance in my chest hadn’t ceased. Alex greeted me in the entryway with a tired lift of his head when I stepped inside with what had to be a ridiculous grin on my face.

  “Morning, sunshine,” he mumbled. He gestured toward the kitchen for me to follow him, unfazed by me coming right in after a light tap on the door. Alex had damn near become my other brother with me there so often, which was also why I felt quite at home razzing him once I examined his shredded jeans and the uncombed auburn hair draping around his face to frame the huge bags under his eyes. He looked rusty after his bachelor party.

  “Wow,” I said. “You look like shit. Rough night?”

  “Ha ha ha. Your boyfriend is a terrible influence.”

  I chuckled. “Best man got you drunk, huh?”

  “And then some. None of us escaped without Uber.” Alex stopped by the kitchen counter where a serving plate of chocolate chip cookies sat, uncovered, and I dropped my purse on the table.

  “Dean seemed okay this morning.”

  Alex rolled his eyes. “Sexual healing?”

  “Maybe...” When he offered the plate to me, I grabbed a cookie, surprised to find it warm. “Did Selby bake these this morning?”

  Alex took his own cookie and chewed a nibble with wide eyes. “Yep. Second time this week. Stress baking?” He shrugged. “You girls did have fun, right?”

  “Yes! We had a great time—with a lot less booze. Is she freaking out?”

  Alex gave me a blank stare and ate more of his cookie.

  “Huh.” Selby baked and cooked all the time, but sugar this often, or in the morning, wasn’t her thing, especially with a fitting looming that afternoon for a wedding dress she’d doubled up on yoga to look her best in.

  Alex threw a thumb in the direction of their bedroom at the back of the house. “She’s dressed, but she’s redoing her hair. Again.”

  “Uh-oh.” I held up the cookie after I swallowed another bite. “These are amazing.”

  “Aren’t they always? That’s why we downed a whole batch in three days.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Pretty much. Okay,” he said, peering out the window. “I’ve got major work to do on the yard. With all the family coming, Selby wants it perfect.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Right. See you.” He left for the backyard with a hand on the side of his head, and I wandered back to Selby, munching the rest of
the cookie on my path. She’d been so perky last night that finding her fussing with her hair in the mirror like she was threw me off. She threaded her fingers through her waves multiple times with a scowl on her face, her eyes dull and a half-eaten cookie sitting on a napkin on the vanity.

  “Hey, girlie.” I stepped behind her and gave her waist a hug. “I had tons of fun last night. Did you?”

  “Yeah,” she said. But once she dropped her hands to her sides and turned, her face crumpled and her eyes lined with tears.

  “Hey!” I took a breath while she laid her head on my shoulder and sighed. Our almost thirty years of friendship had made me accustomed to Selby’s occasional dips, and though she’d by no means stepped into bridezilla territory of late, maybe this potential meltdown had crept ever closer without me realizing. “What’s up?”

  “I’m sorry!”

  “No, no, no. Don’t be.” I clutched her tighter, giving her a minute to settle down while the orange blossom scent of her shampoo filled my nose. “You’ve got this! Everything will get finished, and at the end of it all, you’ll have a beautiful wedding and even better, Alex as your husband. Right?”

  “I know.” She drew back and swiped a fingertip beneath her eye. “I’m way too emotional. And exhausted from last night.”

  “It’s all good.” I cupped her cheeks. “Here, tell me the list for today. Will that help?”

  “Yes.” Selby leaned against the counter and relaxed her shoulders beneath her pink crocheted tank top. Even teary and tired, she reminded me of a doll. She had these thick blond waves of hair that looked incredible whether or not she put any effort into them, and her eyes glistened with the longest eyelashes she rarely bothered to enhance with mascara. “First, we’re finishing the seating arrangements. Alex and I started them, but like ten people RSVP’d at the last second!”

  “No problem. And I’m working on the place cards at home, tonight and tomorrow.”

  “What about champagne for the mimosas that morning?”

  “On my list. Any last errands you need, on me. Just say the word.”

  “Thank you.” She exhaled a puff of air. “Would you mind going through the wedding timeline with me? Stephanie and I are meeting on Tuesday, but I like your ear.”

  “That’s fine.” Stephanie, the wedding planner, had been an active presence over the last month, and massively helpful, since I was wedding inept at best. Regardless, it’d become clear my job as maid of honor was more about supporting Selby in whatever emotional capacity she needed, so I had no issues helping with whatever. “Should we do that before we go?”

  “Sure. Then the fitting—”

  “Which will be a blast!”

  Selby flashed a meager smile before her forehead wrinkled once more. “Yes. Did you try on your dress?”

  “I did. And I already took it in for alterations. I’m set, and Beth and Donna said they’re good, too. I also texted Lana about that, so don’t worry.” Lana was Selby’s cousin from Montana, and I’d taken on coordinating things with her directly to alleviate any fretting on Selby’s end. “Oh, and Dean’s handling Andrew’s tux pants today.” I rubbed her back, and she calmed at the mention of the wrong-sized pants Alex’s cousin hadn’t noticed from the tux shop until long after he’d gotten home.

  “Phew. That was one more disaster I was worried about.” She grabbed her cookie, but before it made its way to her mouth, I tilted my head. “You’re right. I don’t need any more,” she said, though I hadn’t commented at all and was more surprised than anything.

  I shrugged. “Do what you want, but I think you’ll be happier without.”

  “Yes. Yes, I will.” Selby dropped the cookie and hugged me again. “I’m a basket case. You’re the best.”

  “Please, you’re not a basket case, and I’m not kidding. We’re going to handle everything this week. Let’s focus on today. Anything else?”

  She thought a second. “I’d love to finish favor boxes.”

  “I can do that, and Ryan can help me with them, too.”

  She jumped in place at the mention of my half brother. Since Selby and I had been close from elementary school on, my older brother had become hers in many ways, too. “Yay! Are you excited to see him? He’s here Tuesday, right?”

  “Yes, and I’m super pumped.”

  Selby froze. “Oh, crap! I still have to write out all the directions for the house for when he’s housesitting!”

  “Psst.” I held up a finger. “We’ll handle it. I promise. You can always talk it out with him Wednesday when we come for dinner, okay? I can help if he gets stuck, too.”

  With Ryan coming to couch surf for a month, Selby had snatched him up to watch their place while she and Alex were away on their honeymoon. He was great at caring for things and Selby didn’t need to worry, and as I nodded to reassure her, she mirrored me, her lips parted.

  I said, “I’d like to add something to the list, but no panicking, okay?” Her mouth stayed pinched while I continued. “All right. We’re going to do everything you mentioned, but after we get your gorgeous dress safely stowed, we’re getting a massage, too.”

  Her face lit up, though she frowned. “But there’s no time—”

  “There is time. We’ll make the time. You need it. Hell, I need it. I’ll go call that cheap spa place downtown to book us appointments for later this evening.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course I am!” Selby’s eyes started to glisten again, and I pointed an accusatory finger at her. “Hey! Knock that off!” She croaked out a tiny laugh. “How about I tell you something fun that’s not wedding related?”

  Selby breathed deep. “Okay. Yes, please.”

  I propped a hand on my hip, a grin breaking over my face at the sudden rush to confide in my best friend. I gave her forearm a gentle pinch before I said, “Dean cleared out drawers for me last night.”

  Selby’s jaw dropped. “No way! That’s great! You two...” She grabbed my hands and swung her head back and forth. “This makes me happy. Look at you two flying along!”

  Her last statement came out in such a coo while she hugged me that I had to roll my eyes. Dean and I had been flying along, especially since we’d opened up more about our pasts months before—both on my traumatic history with my abusive ex, Charlie, and the painful memory of his former girlfriend Kendra’s tragic death after a fight between them tainting his view for so many years. But life was about opportunities, and sometimes the bad shit cleared the way for the good to shine through.

  I squeezed Selby’s fingers as she pulled away. “It’s way cool, but back to you. I want you calmer. This week is going to be crazy enough.” She agreed with a bob of her head. “I’ll go make our massage appointments. You stop fussing with your hair and put on earrings or something. Then we’re going to get on that seating chart, okay?”

  Selby beamed before I headed for the door. “I love you! And I’m so, so, so happy for you on the drawers!”

  “Thank you, sweetie. Now, hustle!” On my way back to the kitchen to grab my phone, I took a second to reminisce on Dean’s and my morning, and the sweet words echoing in my head and heart. I want more of you. More time. More of this. How could I resist? I loved how natural it felt, how good it was between us.

  I clicked the screen of my phone on, concentrating on Selby again while I searched for the number to the spa I’d found that summer. It had openings multiple times a day with its dozens of massage therapists and kooky office space setup, but I wouldn’t complain about cheap if it meant I got a good, quiet rubdown. Selby wouldn’t mind the stress relief, either.

  She may have hired Stephanie to help with planning the actual wedding, but once the spa receptionist answered and I booked our appointments, I was confident I’d found the perfect way to handle my girl.

  Chapter Three


  Maddie, my close friend and colleague, burst through the doorway to the service room at Women Organized for Change at almost ten-thirty Monday morning. She held her cell phone up in the air in her walk over to the copy machine I’d been glued to for a while, her mauve silk blouse fluttering at the wrist with how fast she breezed through the tiny room. We’d worked together for a little over five years, and her expressive face never ceased to captivate me, particularly with the huge smile spread over her thin lips that she wore now.

  “A drawer? For reals? That’s fantastic!” She stopped beside me with her hands on the waist of what looked like a new black skirt. Maddie had been a model in Paris in her younger years, and almost two decades later, she remained hip to new trends.

  I chuckled and said, “I take it you got my text. And good morning.”

  “Hell yeah! I would have responded yesterday, but shit hit the fan at home.”

  I paused the press of buttons on our old machine to focus on her. I didn’t tend to get caught up in copying with my role as one of the head administrators at WOFC, but both clerks were out sick and we’d run out of intake forms. With a chunk of open time before client appointments that afternoon, I might as well get on copying them and the other papers in short supply. Though we’d spent the last year digitizing the bulk of our clients’ information, most of the intake pieces worked better in a hard copy format.

  “Is that why you’re late? Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Oh my God.” Maddie threw back her head before grabbing a stool to sit with me. “Timothy’s sick. Again.”

  “That’s the second time this month, isn’t it?” I folded my arms and propped myself against the machine.

  “Yes! I’d heard this childhood cootie bullshit tapered down in first grade. Except that’s a lie.” She pointed at me. “Let that be known, in case you have kids.”

  I held up a finger. “Not on our radar yet—”

  “You never know. You got a drawer.” She sang the words. “So awesome!”