Frenemies with Benefits (Searching for Love Book 1)

by Kelly Myers

  He stops to lean forward and pull his shirt off before I toss my blouse to the side as well.

  We halt then, staring into each other’s eyes. He’s shirtless, and I’m in my simple black bra. We’ve never gone farther than this. We kissed a lot that summer, but he never tried to take my clothes off. I didn’t have anyone to compare him to back then, but in retrospect, I realize how respectful he was for a guy that age.

  I was crazy about him, but I also wasn’t about to lose my virginity without having a serious conversation. And Zach and I didn’t do serious talks. It was all joking and fun, no heavy discussions about if we were “ready to go all the way.”

  I don’t need a heavy discussion right now though. I’m so excited and turned on, and so overjoyed that I’m not a terrified teenager anymore. Finally, I’m going to get to enjoy him.

  I laugh, and Zach smiles. I reach out and push his hair back from his face. He lifts his hand to my face so that his thumb grazes my mouth.

  “Sharp eyes, sharp cheeks,” he murmurs. “Soft lips.”

  My heart rams against my chest at his words. I don’t have the capacity to sift through all my past hook-ups or relationships, but I’m pretty sure that no one has ever looked at me the way he is right now. As if he sees me right down to the marrow of my bones.

  I lean my cheek into his palm, and his breath catches at the movement. Then his eyes start to smolder as he surges forward and crashes his lips against mine. He’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, with his arms wrapped tightly around my back, clasping me against his chest.

  I’m about to pull away and suggest we head to the bedroom, but Zach acts first. He keeps a firm grip on me as he lurches to his feet. I gasp and wrap my legs around his waist as tight as I can as he starts to head towards the bedroom door.

  He’s so strong. Everything about him, from his wide shoulders to his tanned skin, speaks to a life spent outdoors. I can practically see him lifting and swinging things at a construction site, sweat pouring down from his brow. And now he’s lifting me as if I weigh nothing.

  When we reach the bedroom, we tumble onto the bed in a pile of limbs. Zach’s mouth flutters over my neck, and he lets out a huff of air, just below my ear, where my skin is sensitive. I burst into giggles at the sensation, and he looks down at me, his weight supported by his elbows.

  “Ticklish?” he asks.

  “A bit,” I say.

  “Good.” He gives me a wicked grin before dipping his head to tease the same spot with his tongue. My burst of laughter turns into a mewl of pleasure as his mouth moves lower, to the swell of my chest. His hand skims up over my stomach until he’s palming my small but round chest, and he slips his fingers under the bra to grip my nipples.

  I moan and press my hips up against him. I’m torn between wanting him right away and wanting to take my time, to savor every inch of his body.

  He rolls off me, and I sit up so I can pull my bra off. Then I stand at the edge of the bed. With me standing and him sitting up on the bed, we are about the same height. His eyes are dark with desire, and I quiver with anticipation as he rakes them over my bare torso. He grips my hip in one hand, and cups my breast with the other, pushing it up so he can take the nipple in his mouth. His mouth nips and licks and teases until I’m mewling.

  I reach down and unbutton my pants. He lifts his head and watches me pull off the jeans and step out of them.

  Without hesitating, he grabs my ass and pulls me closer. Then he dips his hand inside my panties, and runs his fingers across my sensitive flesh.

  A smile curves across his face. “You’re so wet.”

  “I know,” I whisper.

  “Beatrice.” He leans forward and places a soft kiss on my mouth. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you.” It’s the truth. I don’t care what he does, I just want him. I’ve never been so desperate for someone else’s body in my life.

  Without hesitating he stands up and guides me down to the bed. He tugs my underwear off, and digs his fingers into my thighs, before slowly spreading them by pushing one hand in between.

  I bite my lip as he drops to his knees, pulling me so that I’m right at the edge of the bed.

  With tantalizing reverence, he places his mouth between my legs. His tongue slides slowly over my folds, and the breath leaves my lungs in a rush.

  “You taste so good, Bea,” he murmurs. “I knew you would.”

  His words alone make me buzz with anticipation. Then his tongue begins to probe my clit in earnest, and it’s all I can do...not to scream aloud.

  He works me into a frenzy of pleasure, and just when I think I can’t take anymore, he slides a finger inside me.

  “Oh my god,” I cry out. “Oh my god, please.”

  I can’t be certain, but I could swear I feel him chuckle against me before his wicked tongue picks up the pace.

  My climax hits me swift and hard after an entire evening of lusting after him. I bury my hands in his hair and gasp as the waves course through me, lifting my hips up with their force.

  His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my thighs as my orgasm comes to an end.

  I close my eyes and savor the feeling of ecstacy settling into my muscles. When I open them, Zach is looking down at me. I lift myself onto my elbows and pull at his arm until he’s lying over me. I kiss him while I reach for his pants. He kicks them off, along with his boxers, in a matter of seconds. He fumbles in the pocket of his pants for a moment, and lifts up a condom.

  His rock-hard erection nudges against my inner thigh.

  I give him a teasing grin as I reach down and grip his cock. Then I take the condom from him, open it, and put it on.

  “I want more,” I say.

  “Good,” he growls.

  He keeps himself propped above me with his hands, and I place my hands on his back as he nudges me. I gasp as he begins to enter me. It turns into a moan as he pushes deeper and deeper, giving me a sweet fullness that sends new waves of pleasure pulsing through me.

  “You feel so good,” he whispers.

  I smile and lift my hips to take him deeper. With a moan he starts to thrust, and I eagerly grip him with my legs to encourage him to go harder and faster.

  I’m delighted when he leans back slightly to change the angle and reach the spot deep inside me that makes me cry out.

  “Yes.” It’s the only word I can manage. “Yes, yes.”

  His eyes locked on my face, he reaches down and strokes my clit with one hand. This time, I do scream as I plummet into another orgasm.

  He joins me a moment later, groaning as he climaxes.

  We pant for a few seconds, our skin damp with sweat and the dewiness of sex.

  Then he falls on his back beside me. I roll over and lift one leg over his thigh.

  My eyes droop and my limbs feel heavy with satisfaction. He curves one arm around my back and pulls me closer. I let my hand fall on his hairy chest, admiring his manliness.

  “Beatrice,” he murmurs. “You were worth the wait.”

  I smile so hard that my face hurts, and I know that if I could talk, I would tell him the same thing.

  Chapter Nine

  After going to the bathroom, I pull on an oversized t-shirt and a clean pair of underwear. Then I crawl into bed.

  Zach is lying with his eyes closed, the bed sheet covering him from the stomach down.

  I feel a quiver of nerves. I should ask him to leave. Spur-of-the-moment sex is one thing, but him sleeping over is quite another.

  Then again, it’s Zach, not some stranger I met at a bar. Plus, I’m so tired, I don’t have the energy for a conversation about what this means.

  I think it’s pretty clear anyway. We are two people who are just rekindling an old fling. We’re both attracted to each other, and we clearly enjoy each other’s company. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than that.

  If I were a super introspective person, I might pay more attention to the nuance of my feelings. I might wonder if it’s wise
to get involved with someone who existed in my past life that I have spent a lot of time running away from.

  Instead I just curl up next to Zach, let him put his arm around me, and fall into a deep sleep.

  He’s gone when I wake up. For a moment, as I blink at the weak winter light streaming in through my window, I wonder if I dreamed the whole thing.

  I roll over and skim my hand over the mattress. Is there an indent from him or am I just imagining it?

  I push myself out of bed and wander into the living room on my bare feet.

  There’s a note on the kitchen counter: Had to get to a construction site early, hope you slept well.

  He signs it with a smiley face and his name.

  That’s the Zach I know. He was all about me, until he wasn’t. He always had to dash off. His dad would be calling, or he had to run some mysterious errand.

  When I was young, I wanted him to be more attentive. I wanted to feel like I was his whole world. Now I appreciate how he’s not clingy. Zach is not going to get all touchy-feely on me. He clearly sees last night for what it was: a hook-up. It was a good one. I might even call it an amazing hook-up. As I recall the way he made me come twice, I feel a flurry of remembered pleasure in my stomach.

  So yeah it was absolutely mind-blowing. But still a hook-up.

  I’m not about to date Zach. I still don’t know that much about him or what he’s been doing in the last ten years.

  And what I do know gives me the pause. For example, he still lives in Torrins and keeps in touch with drug dealers. That’s a red flag.

  Even rushing off has set a few alarm bells ringing. Maybe he really does have to get to a construction site. Or maybe he has an early-morning drug deal. I’m not certain that’s exactly where he’s gone, but it’s definitely a possibility.

  I start to make a pot of coffee. Once it’s brewing, the scent wafts through the air, and the familiarity of this Saturday morning routine comforts me.

  It’s good that Zach left so quick. I like him. I’m attracted to him. But it’s not a good idea for me to fall for him, not again. Whether or not he’s dealing, I don’t want a serious relationship with him. He’s too complicated, and he’s too intertwined with things I want to forget, like my mother.

  Complicating is bad. I have never subscribed to the belief that the path to true love needs to be strewn with pain and suffering. There is enough agony in the world without adding more by choosing to be with someone who makes things difficult for you. Relationships should be easy. They should ease your stress, not add to it.

  Between our past and his possible illegal activities, a relationship with Zach wouldn’t exactly be easy.

  I really hope he’s not dealing though. I’m an adult with a salaried job and a college degree. It would be mortifying to find out I just slept with a drug dealer, no matter how long my dry spell has gone.

  I sit down on my couch with my fresh cup of coffee and contemplate. I have to admit, I wouldn’t have been upset if he was still here this morning. Especially if he had been willing to partake in a Round 2. I smile to myself. Maybe I should have given him my virginity that summer. Only if he was half as good then as he is now, it would have been a worthy first time.

  I turn to my phone and try to decide what I should do with the free day. It’s still early, so I could probably make the 9am spin class at my gym.

  Or I could have one of those amazing lazy days, where I don’t put on pants, and I just watch videos on the internet for hours on end.

  I straighten my spine as I make my decision. I can do both. I’ll work hard for the hour-long spin class, then I’ll be lazy for the rest of the day.

  My mind made up, I head to the bedroom to pull on some athletic leggings. I tell myself this is much better than joking over a big breakfast with Zach. I’m not sure if I believe it.

  He would probably be bored if he stayed. Zach likes to move from one thing to the next. His mind is quick, which is why he’s so good at conversation, but it also means he can’t sit still. He has boundless energy and likes to stay in motion. He wouldn’t want to share a lazy day with me or fall into a routine of any sort. That’s why he runs his own business, so every day can be new and exciting.

  In high school, I constantly felt insecure about how boring my life was compared to his. I didn’t want to deal drugs or party or do anything illegal, but I figured I must be mundane compared to everything else he had going on.

  I was straight-laced back then. I wasn’t uptight, and I liked to joke and have fun, but I also followed the rules because I figured they were the only things keeping me safe. I always did my homework and showed up to my waitressing job on time. I played soccer in the fall and basketball in the winter, and I never missed practice or a game. If sports could keep me off the streets and help me look good when applying to college, I would play any sport that would take me.

  I figured it was a given that Zach was cool and could have any girl he wanted. I was just a wallflower who was lucky to get his attention every now and then. Not that he ever said anything like that, he would never be so cruel. It was just how it was in my mind.

  That was why I wasn’t too heartbroken when we drifted apart. I had known since the start that we weren’t built to last.

  As I pull on my coat and head out the door, walking as fast as I can so I’m not late for the class, I remind myself that there’s no reason to feel sorry for myself. If I hadn’t been such a goody two shoes back then, I wouldn’t have the life I have now. Zach’s life seems pretty good as well, but I don’t know what corners he had to cut to get there.

  By the time I reach the gym, I’ve decided I shouldn’t text him today. There’s absolutely no need to be clingy or desperate.

  However, I just might text him later in the week to say I had a good time. Because I did. And I would not be totally averse to repeating the event once or twice. I’ll be casual about it.

  And I won’t fall to pieces if I never see him again. I survived losing him the first time (I survived a lot more than him when I was young), I can certainly survive a repeat of history.

  I’m probably still too straight-laced for him, and that’s a good thing.

  If he never talks to me again, then it’s very likely that I’ll dodge a bullet.

  And if he does reach out, that’s just a bridge I’ll have to cross when I get to it.

  Chapter Ten

  I need to cross the bridge sooner than I think. On Sunday morning, Zach calls me.

  We didn’t have our usual friends brunch today since Zoe is traveling and Marianne had rehearsals, so I’m curled up in an armchair, still in my pajamas and reading a book, and I nearly jump out my skin when I see his name pop up on my phone.

  I pick up though. Sunday morning is an odd time to call; I assumed if he was interested in hooking up again, he would call later in the week, but I don’t like playing phone tag or any of those games, so I answer right away.

  “I would have thought you would be in church right now,” I say. I’m rewarded by the warm sound of his laughter. I grin like an idiot.

  “My aunts are there saying prayers for me, don’t worry.” His low voice rips the breath out of my lungs, and it takes a split second for me to recover.

  “That’s not exactly how it works.”

  “How would you know?” Zach asks. “You were no altar girl.”

  I laugh and roll my eyes.

  “Listen, I had a good time the other night.” Zach is so direct. He doesn’t hem and haw; he just says what’s on his mind.

  “Me too,” I say. I’m already wondering how soon I can get him back in my apartment. I thought a one-night stand could be enough, but after replaying every detail of Friday night, I’m craving for more.

  “I’m meeting a friend in the city for lunch, but then I’m driving back to Torrins, and I thought you could come along.” Zach hesitates, but I don’t say anything. What the hell is he thinking? When did I ever imply that I would be interested in a literal trip down memory lan
e? “I could drop you off at your grandmas or something. If you wanted to visit her.”

  “Oh.” My shoulders tensed up the second he said “Torrins,” but I relax them just a fraction of an inch. At least he is citing my grandma as a reason. He means well I guess. “That might be nice.”

  I usually visit her once a month, but Deborah would be thrilled by the surprise. And it sounds like Zach doesn’t want to have a date or anything, he just is offering me a ride. Which is so kind of him.

  “What time?” I ask.

  “I could probably pick you up around 2,” Zach says. “That works?”

  “Yes.” My answer pops out before I can even think.

  I want to do it though. I can grab some nice groceries before he picks me up, and I know my grandma will be delighted. I won’t invite Zach inside though. I doubt Deborah remembers him, but if she does, she definitely won’t have positive associations with his name.

  “Great!” The hint of excitement in Zach’s voice is unmistakable. I narrow my eyes. Why is he this thrilled to be doing me a favor?

  “Ok, see you soon,” I say.

  After we hang up, I sit still and stare into space for a very long time. My sixth sense is tingling. Something is up with him. There’s something I’m not seeing.

  Because if the other night was just a hook-up, why would he be going out of his way to do something nice for me? But if he wants to seriously date me, he would ask me on a real date, wouldn’t he?

  And why, after I’ve made it clear I don’t like talking about Torrins, is he so eager to get me back there with him?

  I heave a sigh. It’s possible I’m being too suspicious. Just because he used to do sketchy things when he was a teenager doesn’t mean that he’s a sneak now.

  I pick up my phone again and think about texting my friends. They asked how the dinner on Friday went, and I’ve never been able to lie to them, so I confessed to everything. Almost everything. I said it was a casual hook-up, but I didn’t go into the details. I didn’t say that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. I’m not ready to admit that to anyone.