FriendlySeduction

by Gillian Archer

  “I-I…” Marc’s croak drew her attention. She found him looking back and forth between her and the road.

  Lord, take me now. Was she a freak? Apparently there was something innately horrifying about that little piece of information. It seemed to make every man freeze in shock, unable to form a coherent sentence.

  She struggled not to listen to her mother’s distant voice ringing in her ears. Premarital sex means eternal damnation. I have to suffer the shame of one bastard grandchild. I will not stand the humiliation of another.

  Damn it, she was tired of being punished for her brother Jason’s mistakes. Just because she wanted to have sex—was going to have sex—didn’t make her worthy of a scarlet letter. She had gone to the other end of the spectrum. There could be no possibility of an out-of-wedlock pregnancy when she was still a virgin.

  “Bullshit.”

  Sara flinched but refused to look at Rob. She wasn’t going through that embarrassment again.

  “I said bullshit. What about Riley Steever? You guys never…” Rob made a rude gesture with his hands.

  “I think I would remember that, Rob. No, we never…” Sara repeated the gesture back to him.

  “Wow.”

  Sara gasped as the truck swerved to the shoulder. The momentum threw her hard against Marc. When they skidded to a stop, Sara grabbed the dashboard and slid back to her portion of the bench seat. Marc wasn’t drunk. She had checked before they left.

  “What the hell, man?” Rob grumbled.

  Sara looked at Marc in concern. “Uh, maybe I should call for a cab. Are you feeling okay?”

  “You’re a virgin!” Marc shouted.

  “Welcome to the conversation. Could you say it a little louder? I don’t think they heard you in Canada.” Sara couldn’t keep the bite out of her voice.

  “What the fuck was that in the parking lot? Were you really going to go home with that clown?”

  “What clown? What’re y’all talking about?”

  A wave of mortification swept over her. “Nothing, Rob. Leave it alone, Marc. Come on. I’m tired. Let’s go.”

  “No. We’re going to sit right here until you explain yourself.”

  “God, Dad. Last I checked, I didn’t have to answer to you.” Sara hunched her shoulders and refused to look at him.

  “No, you do have to answer to me when I have to save you from horny strangers in bar parking lots.”

  “What? What happened?” Rob grabbed Sara’s shoulders and shook her. “Jesus, are you okay? What did that fucker do to you?”

  Sara grimaced at the puff of stale beer emanating from Rob. She really hated that smell. “Nothing. Nothing happened.” She turned and glared at Marc.

  He raised his eyebrow in response.

  “Don’t give me that look, smart-ass. I saved myself.”

  “Why did you need saving?” Rob ran his hands up and down her arms. “Are you all right, baby?”

  Sara enjoyed the sensation of Rob’s caress. What she wouldn’t give if he would do this sober. And not just because he was worried about her. If only she could remove that stale beer smell.

  “Yes, Rob. I’m fine. I had to teach him when a woman says no, she means no.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  Sara grunted in surprise as Rob gathered her into his arms and squeezed her tight. She fantasized for a second about what she’d like to do with him if they were alone in the truck.

  Marc clearing his throat interrupted her naughty little dream.

  “And why were you in the parking lot, little Miss Goody Two-shoes?”

  Rob pulled away from her. “Yeah and why are you all dressed to kill?”

  “I…um… I might have been a little rash. I was going to—” she paused and finished under her breath, “get rid of it.”

  The cab throbbed in silence.

  She couldn’t bring herself to look at either man. She didn’t want to see their disgust or pity. A wave of shame washed over her body. What was wrong with her? Why had she been so willing to throw herself at the first available man she rubbed up against in a bar? Her eyes pooled with tears and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from sobbing like a baby in front of her two best friends.

  She had never cried in front of them. Would never cry in front of them.

  “Ah, baby, if that’s what all this was about you should’ve asked me.”

  Sara gasped as Rob grabbed her, tugged her to him then covered her lips with his. She hardly had a second to enjoy the sensation of her wildest fantasy come to life when he pulled away.

  “Get this fucking truck back on the road right now. I’m too old to make out in a pickup.”

  Sara hid her burning face in Rob’s chest. She couldn’t believe he kissed her. She couldn’t believe he said that. And to Marc. Oh crap. What was Marc thinking right now? She shrank into Rob’s chest as she felt Marc’s smoldering gaze rake her body. She just knew what was running through his mind. She was desperate. A tramp. Who dry-humps a stranger in a bar, almost goes home with him and then propositions her best friend all in the span of an hour? A slut, that’s who.

  God, she had to get her mother’s voice out of her head. Wasn’t this the whole reason for her trip to the bar? To finally get out from under her mother’s shadow? She was a grown woman, damn it. It was high time she started to act like it.

  At the same time she couldn’t help but wish she had a family like Rob’s. Or Marc’s. Sara had probably spent more time at their houses growing up than she had in her own. The love and acceptance from both their mothers just underscored how dysfunctional her own family had been.

  The sound of Marc grinding the gears before the truck slowly picked up speed jerked her from her painful memories. She snuggled deeper into Rob’s embrace. In just a few minutes they would be home. Rob and Marc’s home anyway. There would probably be a slight awkward moment before she and Rob ducked into his bedroom but she could do it. Especially considering the prize she had waiting at the finish line.

  She enjoyed the novel sensation of cuddling with Rob. His rock-hard body was a definite change to Greg’s. God, she had to stop doing that. She deserved better. Rob deserved better. She had wanted him for so long. Marc too, if she was honest with herself. What woman wouldn’t? They were built like gods, were sweethearts and her best friends in the whole wide world.

  Oh shit. She couldn’t do this. What would happen tomorrow? Would Rob still be her friend? Would Marc? What if sleeping with his best friend made things awkward between them? What if Rob wanted a one-night stand? How could she still be friends with him after that?

  Sara couldn’t imagine her world without Marc and Rob in it. They had been her best friends since Marc stole her fingerpaints in kindergarten and Rob made him give them back. Their teacher had force the bickering trio to play together and they had been best friends ever since. She had to make sure that their friendship, between all three of them, wouldn’t change if they did this. If they did it.

  Wait, was that a snore?

  Sara lifted her head from Rob’s chest to look at his face. His head hung over the back of the bench seat, his mouth open and his eyes shut.

  She was sitting here contemplating the end of their friendship and Rob was happily sawing logs, not a care in the world. Had he even been serious about his offer?

  She turned to the front of the truck and leaned away from Rob. She couldn’t touch him right now. She didn’t know what to think. What was she going to do when they got to the house?

  Well, she had to come up with something pretty quick.

  The truck rolled to a stop in Marc and Rob’s driveway.

  Chapter Four

  Marc waited for Sara and Rob to make their mad dash out of the truck and into the house. Together. His knuckles whitened with his grip on the steering wheel at the thought of what they were going to do in his house. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t stand the idea of Rob and Sara together just down the hall from his room. Maybe he should find somewhere else to sleep tonight. M
arc tried to muffle his groan as his head drooped.

  “He fell asleep.”

  Marc flinched at the hoarse whisper that pierced the dead quiet. He turned his head to find Sara still sitting next to him, staring at her fingers with tears pooling in her eyes. He looked beyond her to where Rob was dead to the world, his mouth open with a small trail of drool on his chin.

  “What’s wrong with me?”

  Marc stared in disbelief at the despair in Sara’s voice. “Princess, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect. You’re better than perfect. You’re—”

  “A desperate virgin slut who can’t get laid to save her life.” Sara covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs.

  The sight of Sara crying was almost more than he could handle. She was always so strong. His gut twisted, galvanizing him into action. Marc whipped off his seat belt and reached for her, unbuckling her seat belt to pull her onto his lap.

  “God, Sara. Don’t say that. You’re sexy and hot. Any guy would give his left nut to be with you.” Sara was hot. There was no denying it. He couldn’t believe she didn’t see it.

  And then the rest of her declaration hit him. Virgin! His Sara was an untouched, pure-as-the-driven-snow virgin. It might make him a barbaric prick but the thought of being her first made him instantly hard. He’d be her first and last if he had anything to say about it.

  She gave a watery chuckle. “You’re full of it. Rob was so excited he fell asleep.”

  “Well, he’s drunk and a dipshit.” He shifted a little uncomfortably in an attempt to hide his obvious arousal.

  Sara sighed heavily. “Maybe it’s just not meant to be.”

  Marc waited a beat as his mind raced. “What? You and Rob?”

  “Me and Rob. Me and sex. Maybe I should chuck it all and join a convent.”

  Over his dead body. “Okay, I think you’ve had too much to drink too. Come on, let’s go inside and get some coffee into you.”

  Sara acquiesced, another sign she wasn’t thinking straight. She was never one to meekly follow. She never would have let him carry her into house without a shriek of protest or an attempt to turn it into a wrestling match.

  “What about Rob?”

  “Rob’s a big boy. Let’s concentrate on you right now.”

  Marc carried her to the front door. Her curvy body pressed firmly against his. So soft and snuggly. A waft of her fruity shampoo teased his nostrils. He closed his eyes briefly. It was almost more than he could handle. His Sara finally in his arms.

  A choked sob broke through his fantasy and he fumbled with the door before carrying her over the threshold into the living room. He felt a pang in his chest at the symbolism. His second biggest wish was being fulfilled but not in the way he had dreamt. Walking to the couch, he took a little longer than required, wanting to prolong the moment. He didn’t want to let her go. If she were his, he wouldn’t have to.

  Unable to stall any longer without raising suspicion, he gently placed her on the couch. “I’ll just go make some coffee. You stay right there.”

  Sara kicked off her shoes and snuggled into the arm of the couch. Her small toes wiggled against the sofa, a bright pop of red color against the drab-brown cushions. He could easily imagine nibbling them while watching her squirm. Preferably naked.

  Yep, he was definitely a goner. Never before had he found the sight of bare feet arousing. Marc turned around and walked quickly into the kitchen. He had to keep his hands busy before he did something Sara would no doubt regret in the morning. Sara was tipsy. She might not be totally drunk but he couldn’t make a move on her. He wanted her to be totally aware of what was going on.

  If he made his move.

  The little devil on his shoulder reminded him that Sara hadn’t turned to him. She definitely hadn’t done her super-sexy dance with him at Cat & Mouse. And he wasn’t the one who kissed her in the truck tonight. Lord knew he didn’t make much on his electrician’s salary. Sara could definitely do better than him. For all he knew, she didn’t even like him that way.

  Fuck it. He couldn’t go on wondering if she did. If she ever would. He’d find out for himself. Suck it up and just ask her.

  Now he’d just have to wait until she could answer coherently.

  Marc grabbed a cup then filled it with coffee before adding three teaspoons of sugar. He grinned as he stirred the mug. Nobody had a sweeter tooth than his Sara. He’d never forget the look on that waiter’s face when she asked for chocolate syrup to go with her french fries. He’d never had the courage to try it but his Sara swore it was delicious.

  Knowing he’d waited as long as he could, Marc set the teaspoon in the sink and made the long, difficult walk into the living room.

  Sara slumped on the sofa and waited for Marc to reappear. She should probably offer to help but she just couldn’t seem to make her legs work. Couldn’t muster up her give-a-damn either.

  “Here you go.”

  She gasped at the sight of Marc standing before her, holding a steaming mug of coffee. Crap, he was quick. She still hadn’t figured out what to say to him.

  “Thanks.” She grimaced at the hoarseness of her voice.

  Taking the mug from him, Sara hid her face while she made the pretext of blowing on the steaming coffee. Anything was better than making eye contact with Marc. She didn’t know what to do, what to say. She didn’t want to see his pity. To look at him and know he felt sorry for her. And that he wanted to get away from the drama that seemed to follow her everywhere lately.

  “Is it too hot?”

  “What?” Sara looked up and into Marc’s face. Damn it. There was the sympathy and the pity she hadn’t wanted to see. She glanced away. “No, it’s fine.” She took a huge, slurping drink as proof.

  And almost seared her mouth as a result. She swallowed the burning liquid, her eyes filling with tears. “Yummy.”

  Marc chuckled as he took a seat catty-corner to her in the armchair a few feet away.

  Sara looked down at her coffee cup again and tried to think of something innocuous to say. Anything other than addressing the elephant in the room.

  “It was a nice night tonight.” She closed her eyes in mortification. Great, let’s chat about the weather.

  “Really? So getting felt up on the dance floor and almost raped in a parking lot counts as a nice night, huh?”

  Sara’s face burned and she bit the inside of her cheek as she tried to hold back the tears. She knew it. He did think she was a slut. Placing the mug on the coffee table, she stood, her knees a little unsteady. “I think I should go.”

  “Fuck. I’m sorry, princess. That came out wrong.”

  “No, you’re right. I acted like a slut tonight and I’m damn lucky nothing really bad happened.”

  “Hey!” Marc rose to grab her shoulders. “What happened in the parking lot wasn’t your fault. Any real man knows no means no. He had no right to—”

  “Don’t give me that. I was a tease tonight! I rubbed up against him at the bar and then changed my mind at the last second. I was stupid.”

  “You’re damn right it was stupid. And if you pull a stunt like that again, I’ll tan your hide until you can’t sit down for a week.”

  Sara stared at Marc in fascination. He sounded possessive. About her. She shivered at his imagery. Was that supposed to be a punishment?

  “And another thing. I can’t believe you wanted to throw away your virginity on the first guy who looked at you. Why would you waste such a precious gift on some drunk, sleazy bastard? Why didn’t you just come to me?”

  Sara stared at Marc and tried to think of something to say. Was he serious? She should have come to him? Her nipples tightened at the thought. It took no amount of imagination to picture him naked and on top of her. Oh God. The thought had tormented her all through her teenage years. To really kiss him. To touch him and let him touch her so intimately. She wanted to whimper.

  “I-I…uh, didn’t think you thought about me that way.”


  “Well, now you know I do.”

  Marc pulled her in close and slanted his mouth softly over hers. He gently coaxed and teased her with his deft tongue. Sara turned off her whirling mind and let herself be absorbed in the kiss. In Marc. Her knees grew weak as she sagged against him. His strong arms wrapped tightly around her body and drew her in even closer.

  Pulling back, Marc rested his forehead against hers. “Now you have a decision to make. Is it going to be Rob or me?”

  Sara blinked the haziness from her eyes. Decision? Oh crap. His ultimatum hit her like a slap in the face. She had to choose between her two best friends in the whole world? She was so screwed. How could either friendship survive her choosing one of the guys over the other?

  When did her life get so complicated?

  “I—”

  “Uh-uh. Not tonight. No huge decisions should be made until after the hangover.” Marc turned her around and frog-marched her down the hall to the guest-room-slash-office. He opened the door and ushered her inside. “You can sleep over tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “But—”

  He softly closed the door between them.

  Sara stood there still numb over what just happened. In less than an hour she had been attacked, kissed by both her best friends and then left alone with the hugest decision she ever had to make.

  What was she going to do?

  How could she choose?

  She curled into a ball on the middle of the bed. At that moment, more than anything she wished she had a good girlfriend. Someone she could discuss this monumental decision with. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t. Come to think of it, she had never had one. She had tried to reach out to the girls in her class but the combination of their cattiness over her friendship with the guys, her own tomboy traits and her mother’s overbearingness killed her social life.

  And it wasn’t as if she had a great relationship with her mother. No way in hell was she talking to her about this. She didn’t need to literally hear chapter and verse about why she was going to hell. No sympathy would be found there.