Can't Match This: A Friends To Lovers Romantic Comedy

by Xavier Neal

  My chuckle is accompanied with draping an arm around her bare shoulder.

  “I kept the conversation light and fun to cleverly drag him the direction you needed him.”

  Another smirk clips onto my face. “You read the situation.”

  “Before we ever stepped foot in it.” She displays an all-knowing grin. “There’s a lot that can be learned about a person through a little bit of research into who they are and not just the companies they run.”

  Mick hums thoughtfully and nods at the notion.

  “When do we collect our commission checks?” Minnie playfully questions.

  “You can collect yours from me right now.” Mick wiggles his eyebrows as the doors ding open to their floor. He gives his wife’s ass a grab and tosses me a devilish grin. “You can give Lennox hers.”

  Her finger soars to her teeth seconds prior to the elevator shutting.

  For the next minute it takes to reach our floor, neither of us speaks.

  Lenny gnaws nervously on the nail she no longer needs to keep in perfect condition while I take a moment to evaluate the remainder of her body language. Aside from her anxious tick, she seems sexually tense. Her breathing is labored. Eyes hooded. Thighs clenching. Clutch-holding hand choking the object. All of these are things I’ve begun to notice happen whenever she’s thinking about us in less of a friends-only manner. They’re also clear signs that the thoughts are soaking her panties.

  We’re granted access to our floor and stroll out side by side.

  Inside the deluxe, luxury suite, she slowly saunters away from me and over to the living room area. “God, I hope this fancy shmancy place has tacos.”

  I keep my pace to a lingering speed, admiring the delightful view of her toned ass subtly showing its true shape underneath the loose material. “How do you not know already? Isn’t that what you had for lunch?”

  Lenny tosses me a look over her shoulder. “I didn’t have almuerzo.”

  My eyebrows pinch together in confusion.

  “You have any idea how long it takes to put this shit together?” She waves a finger down her body. “Think Olympic level of commitment.” A small smirk crosses her expression. “And now I’m going to eat like the champion I look like.”

  She begins to lean over the edge of the couch to reach for the menu that’s resting on the coffee table but is abruptly pulled against me instead. Her gasp is caught by my hand clenching around her throat. I roughly angle her face to capture her lips with mine. The harsh bite of her bottom lip grants my tongue access to reaffirm dominion over an area I’ve had to wait all evening to enjoy. Lenny’s mouth fights back, determined to maintain some level of control, yet completely concedes when her head is jerked backwards by the hold on her hair my other hand has managed to grasp.

  Our sudden separation is proceeded by me guiding her body to the position I plan to take her in. “Bend over and brace your legs on the arm of the couch. Spread ‘em wide.”

  “Si, papi.”

  The taunting response threatens to have me coming before I can even get my slacks off.

  Lenny gathers her dress, crawls onto the edge of the couch, and rests her palms on the cushion. Afterwards, she glances over her shoulder, anxious for her next instruction.

  My eyes remain pinned on hers, and I take my time to undo my belt. Despite the developed pain of having my dick receive a zipper imprint from being pressed against it too long, I drag out the process, wanting her to be as close to the fucking edge as I currently am. Her attention swings back and forth between observing the hunger that’s increasing in my glare and watching me finally release my cock. The instant my pants and boxer briefs fall to the floor her entire body eagerly rocks backwards in a silent plea to be fucked.

  I gradually bunch together the material blocking my path and let a predatorial grin pierce my expression. Once the fabric has been completely collected, I’m able to see a sight that would’ve had me ending the night much sooner had I been aware of its existence.

  Our eyes connect, and Lenny impishly states, “Didn’t want any lines.”

  My stare falls to the carnal situation cultivating.

  No panties.

  No hair.

  No rubber.

  Just bare.

  Just one hundred percent, pure unfiltered fucking.

  Her hips shift, and the hotel lighting illuminates the slickness waiting to be claimed by my cock.

  And only my cock.

  My fingers burrow into her round cheeks, and I use my thumbs to spread the doors to paradise wide open. “I’m gonna have you like I’ve never had any other women, baby.”

  The announcement receives a whimper.

  Instinct to just dart inside battles with the need for me to take the extra minute to watch our lives change. To document to memory the moment we became what it is we’ve always been destined to become.

  Mates, in every aspect of the word.

  I guide the tip of my dick to her soaking entrance and briefly tease the area. “Beg.”

  Lenny whimpers once more at the same time she attempts to force me inside.

  Pulling back nearly kills me. “Beg for it.”

  She throws a hard glare over her shoulder in protest.

  Her stubbornness even in the midst of sexual eagerness makes me smile widely. “Let me know how much you want it.”

  An all too familiar gleam grows in her eyes. “Por favor, papi. Tómame. Romperme. Hazme gritar tu nombre.”

  The animalistic growl that escapes pales in comparison to the savage thrust I supply. White, hot heat envelops my cock, and my balls clench tightly, preparing to come already. I clamp down on the inside of my cheek to prevent the pending embarrassment. The new ache serves its purpose to distract from the pleasure pulsating around my shaft. Lenny moans for more in Spanish and against my own volition my dick nudges deeper to deliver it.

  Being with her is unlike anything else I’ve experienced. With other women there wasn’t a difficulty to control my actions. There wasn’t a burning urgency to come inside them. There wasn’t this gritty, unbridled need to have them crying out that their pussy, their heart, their fucking soul belonged to me.

  Driven by barbaric notions my body is determined to execute, I drive into her harder, sounds of wet flesh slapping against wet flesh singing salacious praises in our erotic sanctuary. The dip in her arched back is defined. Her breath is growing choppier with every heavier heave. She whimpers for mercy in English yet cries for the opposite in Spanish. Lenny struggles to remain on her shaky limbs throughout each blow, and the beautiful display of her unable to withstand the sexual assault has me on the verge of coming all over again. I do my best to ignore the bemoaning in my balls to relish the way her ass is crashing into them. My eyes feast on the view of my dick repeatedly stretching and molding her pussy to be me-shaped. Quivering and quaking under the pressure of my name being carved onto her sacred walls.

  Lenny finally confesses what it is my cock has been desperate to hear. “Estoy tan cerca, papi. So…fucking…close…”

  I sharpen and shorten my thrusts. Let them transpose from somewhat rugged to completely vicious. Our bodies continuously slam together in savagery, both on the brink of being bruised from the force. She cracks first. Calls out my name in rapid succession like it’s an invocation. Like I’m the saint that will provide her indemnification if what’s happening between us doesn’t end in the ideal scenario we have our minds wrapped around. Her pussy thrums in an incorrigible thirst it wants my cock to quench. Following suit, I come, Lenny’s groans in tandem to each brutal blast that fills her.

  When she unexpectedly collapses forward, she exposes my softening dick to the cool air, yet presents a view so bawdy it immediately starts to stir again. Seeing my cum smeared across her lower lips has me declaring, “Let’s get that pretty pussy to the bedroom. There are heels I promised to put in the air.”

  Lenny wiggles her face across the cushion until she can meet my stare. Instead of requesting a moment of rep
rieve or whining for her favorite food, she simply lets the corners of her lips curl upward as she states, “Si, papi.”

  Whether or not she’s ready to acknowledge it, we just sealed the deal of a lifetime.

  A deal I am more than willing to do whatever necessary to make sure it never ends.

  Chapter Eight

  Lennox

  I put down the neon green crayon we used to color the princess’s face. “And what color should we make the sky?”

  “Pink!” shouts Rainne.

  “Going for an early morning vibe at the castle,” I announce as I reach for the color. “I dig it. Very Mufasa in the clouds.”

  “Mufusa,” Rainne repeats, her hand rapidly moving back and forth across the paper.

  “Has she seen the original kid friendly version of Hamlet better known as The Lion King?”

  “Too little. Worried some of those scenes with Scar would give her nightmares, and it’s already a battle to keep her in her own bed.”

  Jaye attempts to color the clouds white only to have her daughter push her hand away. “No tankto.”

  She lets her shoulders plummet. “Really? Mommy can’t color with you and Aunt Len Len?”

  “No.”

  Her swift answer receives a shake of Jaye’s head. “Unbelievable. My first-born hates me already.”

  I shoot her a sympathetic smile. “She doesn’t hate you. We’re just bonding here. She’s teaching me that she understands Princesses can come in all types of colors, and I am teaching her not to let her creativity be stifled by the expectations of society by encouraging her to color wherever she feels compelled to color on her project.”

  “Why do I feel like we’re having a therapy session for my toddler?”

  We engage in a small snicker together that’s cut short by the sound of the front door opening.

  “Daddy!” Rainne squawks at the same time she takes off from the coffee table where we’re coloring.

  “Rainne!” Archer calls out in return, swooping her up into his naturally tan arms. He leans his forehead against hers and smiles wide. “I love you.”

  Her tiny nose nuzzles his. “Lub ubetoo!”

  Jaye doesn’t bother to hide her jealousy. “Ugh. Won’t let me color with her, but you get all the love she has? What kinda ugly stepmother BS is that? Why is she treating me like I made her scrub the floors and sweep the chimney instead of letting her create art and eat cookies?”

  He adjusts his daughter in his grasp on his way into the living room. “Rough day?”

  “Every day is rough when you have a daughter who wants nothing to do with you and an eighty-pound baby playing trampoline on your bladder.”

  I know offspring can’t get that big in humans, but now I’m curious, what’s the biggest baby that’s ever been born?

  Archer offers her a small grin. “Is it a little easier with a husband who’d hang the moon by hand for you every night if you’d let him?”

  “No.”

  The cold response receives a chuckle. “How about Rainne and I go play in her room for a bit and let you and Lennox have a little space?” He tosses me a warm head nod. “Hey, Lennox.”

  “Hey.”

  “Sorry to do this to you and Gideon but looks like we’ll have to cancel BBQ and boardgames on Sunday.”

  “What?” Jaye unhappily growls.

  “They’re gonna need to me to come in to catch up some things that have fallen behind…I was going to explain it to you later-”

  “But thought me overhearing as you tell it to my best friend would be better?”

  Archer cringes at his mistake. “That’s not – I should’ve – I meant to-”

  His ramble is interrupted by his toddler daughter. “Pay wit me, Daddy!” She places both hands on his cheeks. “Pease…”

  “Let me make sure Mommy doesn’t need anything first.”

  Rainne frowns and plops her head on his shoulder.

  “Do you?” Archer questions his wife. “Other than a little breathing room from the tiny one and to hear more in-depth on why I had to cancel, do you need anything? Water? Dinner? Maybe a foot rub later?”

  Her bottom lip starts to tremble. “You were the one at work all day. Shouldn’t I be offering you those things?”

  The sudden mood swing frightens me, but not him. He maintains his even-tempered nature and shakes his head. “It’s work taking care of and growing our family. Just because you’re not currently employed outside the house doesn’t mean the job you’re doing here isn’t important or doesn’t deserve recognition.”

  Tears fall to her cheeks as she cries out, “Why are you so perfect?!”

  Oh my God, she’s not going to need a doctor in the hospital. She’s gonna need a priest, a bucket of holy water, and a Latin prayer to expel the evil that’s currently flowing through her veins.

  Archer maneuvers around the artsy mess on the floor, brushes away a tear, and leaves a kiss in its place. “I love you, babe.” Afterwards he leans his fit figure further down to kiss her stomach. “And I love you, little man, even if you’re making Mommy miserable.”

  Rainne quickly attempts to intervene on the action. “No, my Daddy!”

  A stunned expression crosses his face before he directs it to Jaye. “When did this start?”

  “Oh, you mean the hatred for the pending sibling?” She adjusts herself on the couch while I collect the crayons. “About a month ago.”

  “Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”

  “You leave early and work late.”

  The clip in her tone causes him to cringe. “Jaye you know-”

  She lifts a hand to hush him. “Not in the mood to have that discussion.”

  Hurt hops into his eyes, yet he simply nods his understanding. “Alright. I’ll take Rainne to play in her room…”

  Once her husband disappears from earshot, I pin her in place with an incredulous stare. “Should we talk about that?”

  Jaye shakes her head.

  “You know this is what I do for a living.”

  “Technically, for a living, you read profile surveys for a dating site and pair people up to have sex.”

  “Start relationships,” I promptly correct, “but you know what I meant. Relationships are my specialty. And you know I’m not going to just shove unsolicited advice down your throat like the average counselor. That’s not who I am. That’s not how I operate.” Tucking my feet underneath me, I rest one arm on the edge of the couch cushion. “Rainne’s response to a new child is normal. You may hate it, but often transitioning from only child to sharing your parents is a process. On the upside, she’s begun earlier than some, which puts her ahead on the adjusting phase. She doesn’t hate you or spending time with you or being around you. It’s the opposite. She hates how she’s no longer the only child around you, that you’re no longer just her mommy. This shit started about a month ago when he started getting really active every day, right?”

  Jaye slowly nods.

  “Yeah, that was the moment she realized the baby is real and changes are about to happen…” My hand lands warmly on her leg. “Now, what’s going on with the world’s best hubby?”

  She glowers. “Don’t call him that.”

  “You call him that! You even bought him one of those tacky travel mugs that says it on there!”

  “And didn’t you get Gideon one that says number one best friend?”

  “I did. And he hated it. Called it the worst Christmas gift until he opened the damn thing up to discover the bag of Cola Shaped Candy and monthly subscription to it.”

  He doesn’t actually use the mug for coffee. He stores said candy in it so that his nasty little sweet tooth isn’t public knowledge. Similar to the way he somehow manages to store tic tacs in my console, so it isn’t constantly public knowledge that I eat as much salsa on my tacos as I do.

  “Anyway,” I drag the conversation back onto the right path, “what’s wrong within the Cox household?”

  Jaye buries one hand in her
curls while the other rubs her stomach. “I’ve just…been feeling lonely and like a single parent lately. His corporate position requires him in the office early and at times to stay late, which isn’t ideal when you’re pregnant and have a toddler you need help with. Plus, he’s had to attend happy hours to rub elbows and travel out of state for training. He cancels plans. Misses dinners. And family time. And us time. And I just…” she momentarily shuts her eyes, “miss him.”

  “Picking a fight and then banishing him from your presence might not be the best way to communicate that.”