by Amy Daws
Freya giggles at that. “Is that why I’ve never heard you talk about any past girlfriends?”
I shrug. “I’ve never really done the girlfriend thing because football has always been my priority. And since I never know how long a team is going to keep me, the idea of settling down with someone, only to end up with a different team, makes relationships seem pretty pointless.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Freya says, getting a curious look in her eyes. “But friendships are okay?”
“Friendships are sturdier,” I state simply. “There aren’t the emotional ties that come with a relationship. You and I can do what we’re going to do tonight and go right back to just being mates the next day because we’ve created a foundation for it.”
Freya nods thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s why you appreciated your arrangement with Cami. You got to have your cake and eat it too.”
“Aye,” I reply with an uncomfortable smile because what Cami and I had is a night and day difference to what I’m doing here with Freya. And I’m not sure what that means exactly. I shake my head and stop that train of thought in its tracks. “I just know it’s simpler all around when feelings aren’t involved. It’s just about sex.”
“It’s just about The Sex.”
My shoulders shake with my laughter. God, it is going to be fun tonight to see Freya experience all this for the first time. I let my eyes lower to her body. “And make no mistake, Cookie. It might just be sex tonight, but I’m still going to do my damnedest to rock your world.”
She swallows a knot in her throat and reaches up to fan her ears. “We should, erm…get the check. I feel like it’s really hot in this restaurant all of a sudden.”
It’s only going to get hotter.
“Does it hurt for men when they do it the first time?” I hear my stupid, ridiculous voice ask out loud as Mac and I stand across from each other in my bedroom.
The corners of Mac’s mouth twitch in the dim nightstand light.
“You swore you wouldn’t laugh at me!” I exclaim and reach out to smack him.
He catches my hand against his firm chest and holds it there. “Firstly no, it doesn’t hurt. It feels fucking fantastic. And Cookie, we’re not Mac and Freya if we’re not having a wee bit of a laugh at each other through all this.” He steps closer to me and places his other hand on my hip, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through my body. “Besides, laughter is a good way to defuse tension.”
“It is?” I chirp, my voice sounding weird and high-pitched.
“Aye, do you want me to call my cocker the Loch Ness monster again so you can make fun of me?” He waggles his eyebrows playfully.
“I just don’t understand how you think calling your penis a monster is even remotely attractive in the bedroom. You should call it something sweet and cuddly like…Chip.”
“Chip?” Mac repeats the name, and his chest shakes with laughter beneath my hand.
“Why not?” I shrug.
He pins me with a panty-melting smile. “If I call my cocker Chip, will that make you happy?”
I glance down at his trousers and nod. “Yeah, Chip sounds nice. Gentle.”
He releases my hand from his chest and crooks his fingers under my chin to force me to look up at him. “I’m going to be gentle, Cookie.”
“Please, no Cookie in the bedroom,” I groan and chew my lower lip nervously. “It makes me feel like your mate, and I don’t want to feel like your mate. I want to feel like a woman you desire.”
“You are a woman I desire, Freya,” he replies and moves his hand to my neck to trace the line of my jaw with his thumb. A riot of goosebumps erupt down my neck and over my breasts, causing my nipples to pebble beneath the black cropped bustier I bought for this occasion.
“Let me prove it to you,” Mac says, his voice rougher than before as his strong hand threads deliciously through my hair, angling my neck so I’m looking into his eyes.
He smiles ever so slightly just before leaning in and connecting his lips with mine. Our noses brush against each other as he moves his lips against mine in soft, gentle strokes—just the way a Canadian cowboy would kiss his future bride on the steps of her grandfather’s home.
Kindly. Gentlemanly. Respectfully.
Suddenly, he deepens the kiss and his tongue delves into my mouth with greedy firmness. Our bodies are flush together, and the whiskers of his chin tickle my lips as he plays with me, teases me, tastes me. Fucks me…with his mouth.
His tongue plunges in and out as one hand glides down my back and palms my arse, pulling me into his groin so I can feel the level of his arousal.
From just a kiss? Great heavens.
This is certainly no longer a gentle Canadian cowboy kiss. This is the kiss of a true, unbridled, untamed, unbroken bronco of a Scotsman, and I had no idea it was everything I was missing in life!
His other hand moves to pop the strap behind my neck open, and the top of my dress spills down, revealing my very sizeable breasts, which are now practically pouring out of my bra. Jesus, did my breasts grow? Do breasts get bigger when you’re aroused?
He breaks our kiss, and I gasp for breath as his face lowers to my cleavage to devour me, pressing warm open-mouthed kisses to my flesh. I rub my cheek against the top of his head, holding on for dear life as his teeth bite the edge of my bra and yank it down with one firm tug. My breast tumbles out on one side, and I can’t help but cry out with excitement because the flurry of arousal coursing through my veins is overpowering all my senses.
“Fucking stunning, just as I imagined,” he growls, and without warning, he yanks the other one free.
I glance down and thank God for underwire because even I think my breasts look nice like this. Having double Es means you need support, so the scrunched down bra holding them up like this actually makes my breasts my new favourite wobbly bits.
Mac palms them both roughly as he wraps his lips around one of my nipples and sucks. Hard. The pressure causes a burning sensation in my vaginal region, and my legs nearly buckle on the spot.
God, Freya. Vaginal region? If you said that out loud, Mac wouldn’t be able to stop laughing long enough to take your maiden tag.
He presses his teeth onto my other nipple, and I’m suddenly feeling very cheated by this entire exchange. When his lips move up to find mine, I press my hands flat on his chest and push him away. My fingers hurriedly reach out for his shirt and fumble with the buttons, but they’re trembling so much I can’t get his stupid shirt off. With a tiny growl of frustration, I grab the opening at the top and rip his shirt down the front, hearing the soft patter of plastic buttons hitting the hardwood floor. I glance up, and he’s looking at me like I just scored a goal for the World Cup.
“I know a good seamstress,” I croak, and my hands reach out and claw at Mac’s very large, very sculpted chest.
I’ve fitted Mac for clothes before, so I know how beautiful his body is. But being able to drag my fingertips down his flesh, knowing that he’s all mine for the night is a heady, overpowering feeling.
I push him backwards to my bed, and he drops down with ease, his eyes dark with arousal as I work towards shimmying out of my dress. Too many clothes. Too much pressure. We just need to do this so I can get a handle on the sweltering yearning coursing through me at rapid speed. It’s so strong I feel like my entire body could take flight at any moment.
When I finally ditch the dress and move to take off my bra, Mac stops me. “Don’t be taking my job, lass.” He reaches behind me and unclasps my bra with deft ease.
When it drops to the floor, I realise belatedly that I’m standing in front of professional footballer Maclay Logan in nothing but a pair of tiny lace knickers. I know he’s my best friend, but he’s experienced. He’s probably seen hundreds of gorgeous model types naked. And not plus-size models, either. Tiny, rail thin models that have enormous thigh gaps and visible ribs. How did I think I was going to be able to shag him without him seeing me naked?
He’s go
ing to notice that my tummy isn’t flat. Not even close. It’s soft and has a little pouch that jiggles when I move. He’s seeing my Spanx-free belly! And my breasts without underwire aren’t the perky porn star tits that I trick myself into thinking I have when I’m home alone. My breasts sag and droop and lay against my ribs. And don’t even get me started on my thighs. The dimples there are not inherited through genetics. They are earned from a lifetime of wine gums, takeaway, and questionable life choices.
God, I’m such a fool!
I quickly reach over and click off the nightstand lamp, returning to Mac and hoping he didn’t see the sheer panic on my face. I grab his cheeks and lean down to kiss him, but he pulls away.
“What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I croak and try to kiss him again.
He grabs my wrists to stop me. “Why did you shut the damn light off?”
“More…romantic,” I murmur and free my hands to begin fumbling with the belt on his trousers.
“Darkness is not romantic,” Mac retorts, removing my hands from his groin. “Not seeing your body is the exact opposite of romantic.”
I stand up and pinch the bridge of my nose, grateful that Mac can’t see the pained look I know is on my face. “Trust me, it is better this way.”
Mac rises to stand in front of me, his tall form like a giant shadow in the darkness, making me feel small and silly. “Trust me, it’s not,” he states through clenched teeth.
He swaps places with me and reaches over to click the light back on. I close my eyes so I don’t have to see his reaction because I’m certain I can’t bear it.
“Freya, look at me,” he says seriously, his voice gruff and more Scottish than I’ve ever heard before.
My eyes flutter open.
“Your body is everything I fucking want.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Your curves.” Kiss to my shoulder. “Your dimples.” Kiss to my neck. “Your softness.” Kiss to my breasts, and my belly, and my…oh my fucking God, he’s on his knees.
“Your heat,” he murmurs against my legs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of my knickers.
He drags them down slowly, and I’m suddenly hugely grateful that I splurged on a full Brazilian wax yesterday. He presses me down onto the bed and slowly spreads my legs and hitches them up onto his shoulders.
Good God, he’s really getting in there!
I might be inclined to be self-conscious under normal circumstances, but the smoldering look on his face makes me feel like the hottest woman in the world right now.
When his lips touch my sex, my thoughts go to a very strange place. You know that feeling when your mind is stuck in a dream but your body is trying to wake you up? It’s a delicious place that you don’t want to leave, but since your body is fighting it, you’re basically stuck in that strange space?
That’s what Mac going down on me feels like. Somewhere between a dream and reality, and I’m not sure which one I should commit to, considering this is the first time in my entire life I’ve ever had a man’s mouth down there.
Mac’s movement is a gentle, slow-motion kiss. He licks and teases and sucks and…is he making out with my vagina? This is so not Canadian cowboy of him.
He pulls back and slowly presses a finger inside me. I glance down to see him looking up at me. “Are you okay?”
My body tremors. “Okay?”
“Yeah, you doing good?” he asks, his lips slick with my arousal as he slowly pumps his finger in and out.
“I think so?” I say stupidly. “You tell me.”
He bites his lip, failing to hide his amused smile. “I think you’re doing fucking fantastic.” He gets a wicked look in his eyes and then inserts another finger, causing a really loud noise to come from somewhere deep inside of me.
“It’s too much,” I state, feeling this intense fullness building inside of me.
“It’s not too much,” Mac says, crooking his finger and stroking my G-spot, which I really only know about from hearing my girlfriends talk about their sex lives. I’m not a sex toy owner. I could barely look at my naked body in the mirror, let alone pleasure myself. He quickens his pace, and my shoulders lift up off the bed.
“Oh my God!” I cry out, and he bites his lip, a look of pure fucking sex in his eyes before he descends on me again. He sucks my clit into his mouth while stroking that tender spot, and without warning, a sharp, overwhelming release goes off inside of me. It’s so intense, my thighs begin to shake compulsively, causing a horrible sense of embarrassment to wash over me. Groaning, I cover my face with my arms, horrified by my body’s ridiculous reaction.
“Freya, look at me,” Mac’s voice rasps, sounding deeper than I’ve ever heard it.
“No, I’m a freak. My body is betraying me.”
“Cookie, you’re not a freak,” Mac states, gently extracting his fingers while standing up on his feet. He pulls my arms off my face to force me to look at him. “You just had an orgasm. A fucking nice one if I do say so myself.”
“I was out of control,” I say, frowning up at him.
Mac frowns back at me. “Have you never had an orgasm, Freya?”
I sniff in confusion. “I thought I had, but they felt nothing like that.”
The corner of his mouth tilts up. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He leans down and kisses me on the lips, the act doing a proper job of washing away my embarrassment. I kiss him back, my hands raking over his strong back.
“I think you’re ready,” he says against my lips, lowering his mouth to the hollow of my ear. “Your ears are telling me they’re ready.”
“Shut up, you cow,” I reply and then bite my lip nervously.
Through foggy eyes, I can see his massive erection pressing outward, and with no fanfare, he grabs a condom out of his wallet and shucks off his trousers. He uses his teeth to rip open the foil packet.
“Done that a lot, I take it?” I ask stupidly because apparently, my idiotic body needs to fill all dead silence with ridiculous drivel.
“Enough.” He winks before rolling the condom over his tip with exact precision. “Never with my best mate, though.” He stands beside the bed and looks at me expectantly.
“So we’re doing this now, then?” I ask, my body tensing up nervously as I move to the top of the bed. Pulling the blankets down, I wince against the cool sheets. “So soon, after…”
“Now is better,” he states confidently. “You’re soaked and relaxed. It will hurt less if we do it now.”
“Okay, then.”
The bed dips as Mac crawls over top of me, our flesh slick with desire and anticipation. He’s hot and heavy, and I imagine what an excellent way it would be to die beneath the delicious weight of him as our smooth naked skin rubs together, igniting every single one of my nerve endings.
A stirring begins inside me again. How has my body recovered so soon? How am I still this turned on after all we’ve done so far? “Do I just lay here like this then?” I ask nervously, watching the tip of his wrapped erection glide up my thigh.
His breath is warm on my shoulder with a soft laugh. “I’d prefer it if you participated.”
“Participation. Got it,” I state, nodding and trying to clear my mind of the earlier moments to focus on the task at hand.
“Freya,” Mac says, his heavy weight sinking down over top of me. “Stop thinking so much.”
His lips crash with mine, and it’s a glorious, desperate kiss with strong, steady tongue. It’s wonderfully frantic, like he can’t get enough of me. I can taste myself on his lips, and it excites me further because just the idea of him doing what he did to me makes my nerve endings ignite all over again.
Mac’s hands are everywhere—touching me, caressing me, kneading me, teasing me. So I decide to do the same to him. I fist his hair in my hand and kiss him back hard, relishing the feel of our bodies rubbing together, skin on skin. It’s quite possibly the most magical thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life. When I reach do
wn between us and wrap my fingers around his thick heat, he stops kissing me.
“Fuck, Freya,” Mac groans, his forehead resting on mine as he pants against my face. “I need to be inside you.”
“Then do it already,” I pant.
“You have to stop touching me so I can calm down. I don’t want to hurt you.”
My hand instantly releases him, and as if Mac can sense my uneasiness, he presses his lips to mine, and murmurs, “Your hand on my cock makes me fucking wild with lust.”
I smile and bite my lower lip. “That’s nice to hear.”
He shakes with laughter, and the movement somehow lodges his dick right where my lips part. Our eyes lock. Our breaths hold. My hands reach up to grip his arms like I need to brace myself for what’s coming.
“I’m going to kiss you through it.”
I nod woodenly. “Kissing would be good.”
“Are you ready?” he asks, and I see a small flicker of nerves flit over his eyes. “If you’re not ready, we don’t have to do this. I want this to be what you want, Freya.”
“You’re what I want, Mac,” I say and reach around to hug him to me and pull him closer. “You’re my best friend.”
With a tiny, reassuring smile, he leans in and begins kissing me with tender passion as he positions his tip at my opening. When his tongue thrusts into my mouth, his cock mimics the motion down below.
It’s a sharp, instant burn that makes me flinch. I break away from his lips and gasp for air. For space. For relief. Everything is tight. Too tight. Mac holds himself over the top of me and looks down at me with so much care and concern in his eyes, my heart nearly implodes from the tenderness on his face.
“Are you all right?” he asks nervously, glancing down at the space between us. He winces slightly, clearly feeling the tight pressure below. “Is it too much for you?”
I sniff and shake my head, willing the burning in my eyes to go away. “I’m okay.”
He nods thoughtfully, a worried expression in his eyes as they scan over my entire face. “Are you sure?”