by Sierra Hill
Deacon and I have always had a close friendship that has never crossed those boundary lines. He was first and foremost my best friend’s ex. And even though we no longer speak or see each other, there’s still the code to consider.
Secondarily, because of our friendship, we know almost everything there is to know about each other. We’ve swapped stories about embarrassing moments with former lovers. Discussed religion and politics and shared our views on the world. Helped each other through tough break-ups. Well, actually, it was Deacon who was there for me, but I would have been by his side had the tables been turned.
And then that swirl of jealousy reared up inside my chest when I learned about his fling with Bethany. I forgave him for not telling me, but the hurt still lingers a little, like an afterbite of a mosquito sting.
I must be staring off into space when a woman sidles up to me and asks, “Can I use the sink?”
Shaking off my thoughts, I smile and move out of the way and enter an open stall.
The more and more I think about this, the more I’m determined to just do it. Make a move on Deacon because honestly, I don’t think he ever will.
I finish up and head back out to the bar where Deacon watches my return, his eyes following me the entire way down the hallway. His gaze traveling the length of my body, leaving a heated path with his watchful eyes. The way he stares at me is heavy and concentrated, as if he can read my thoughts and knows what I’m planning on doing tonight.
“Everything okay there, Ellie Belly?”
I wink, bumping my hip against his. “Mmm-hmm. Now, whose turn is it? Let’s finish this up and get out of here.”
Chapter 8
Deacon
Ellie lost the game.
Now, I’m not suggesting she lost on purpose, but my Spidey-senses were activated a few times when it seemed like she intentionally overshot the puck. She’d giggle and send the next one sailing off the board as if she wanted to lose.
I’m not even sure how to interpret that possibility.
Does she want to go skinning dipping with me? If so, why wouldn’t she just admit to it?
Confusion grips my thoughts as we drive the hour back into town, the stars in the sky illuminating the dark night. I turn off onto Seawall Blvd. and head down to the shore. I find a parking spot along a fairly empty side street, killing the engine and glancing over at Ellie who sits reservedly quiet in the seat next to me.
“We don’t have to do this, you know. I would never make you…”
Ellie leaves me speechless and unable to finish my sentence when she whips off her blouse over her head and throws it in the back seat, leaving her in only a knee-length skirt and her bra.
“I’m not a chicken,” she insists, toeing off her slip-on shoes and then wiggling off her skirt, turning a cheeky grin in my direction. “A bet is a bet. Come on. Hurry up, already.”
Even before I have a chance to protest, she’s flinging the door open and jumping out, rushing down toward the empty beach.
“Holy shit,” I say to no one but an empty car as I stare out the window at her nearly naked form running toward the shore. “Here goes nothing.”
I have no idea why I’m overthinking this and hesitating like a scaredy-cat. I’ve never been nervous around Ellie, nor any woman, for that matter.
The thing that’s stopping me – or at least, holding me back from escaping the friend zone we’ve been in all these years – is that once I decide to cross the line with Elle, it’s over.
Done. Kaput.
Our friendship will never be the same again. For me, I know I want the chance for something different with her. Something more because she’s everything I want in a woman; beautiful, witty, fun-loving and a decent human being.
But I don’t know if she shares those feelings toward me. Sure, she gave me some strong signals tonight, but maybe I’m just misinterpreting them because I’m horny?
I’ve been a patient man when it comes to Ellie, but that ends tonight.
Getting out of the car, I throw off my shirt and shoes, tossing them haphazardly in the backseat before closing the door. I can barely see Elle down on the beach but hear the shrilling shrieks of her screams that indicate she’s hit the frigid water.
I’m positive she must be freezing her toes off. Although this month has been relatively warm and today we enjoyed a seventy-two-degree day, the Pacific Ocean water is still cold as fuck.
As I near the waterline, Elle’s naked body silhouettes against the darkness surrounding her and the bright moon that casts its yellow glow across the water.
“Hurry your ass in here so we can get the hell out!” she demands, splashing me with a dip of her toe, the water hitting me at the knees.
“Oh, fuck it’s cold as balls in here.”
This is no joke, folks. We might die of hypothermia before we fully submerge.
As if Mother Nature wants to ensure this happens, a huge wave comes barreling toward us undetected, hitting Ellie in the back with an enormous slap, pushing her into my body. Right into my arms.
We both let out surprised gasps, my arms opening instinctively to catch her and hold her upright.
The wave abates, leaving us dripping wet and shivering against one another. But cold, wet and miserable are the last things I feel the moment I realize the position we’ve found ourselves in. The heat sizzles between us and consumes me with a need so strong, so powerful, it rivals the ocean’s dominance.
It’s now or never.
Ellie’s slight frame quivers in my arms and when I glance down, our eyes lock and all I see is desire swimming in the bottomless ocean of green.
The air between us is charged, like a thunderstorm out at sea. The waves are crashing around us, pulling us under and hoisting us back up, granting us reprieve as we gulp down lungfuls of breath.
“I want to kiss you, Elle.”
I’m not sure what I expect her to say, but I’m giving her a chance to stop this before I make a fool of myself. An option to tap out and prevent me from drowning in my stupidity.
“I dare you to do it.”
“Another dare, huh?”
Elle’s palm lands on the back of my head, sinking into my wet strands and pulling my head down to meet hers. Her lips flirt against mine, until one tiny move has our mouths colliding. She trembles, my arms circling her waist and clutching her to my damp chest.
I taste the cinnamon of her flavored gum as I lay claim to her mouth. My tongue glides along her crease, coaxing her to open for me. Licking inside, I’m fevered from the heat of her mouth and tingle from her taste.
This is no playful peck. It’s full-on, bring-you-to-your-knees consuming need, begging to release the fire that’s been burning deep within all these years.
The kiss is years of pent-up desire, not easily quenched with a quick lip lock. No, this kiss may just last for hours, until the tide returns, and the sun comes up.
I make a sweep of my tongue over her soft, plump lips before ravaging her mouth once again. Who needs air when I can live off of Elle’s delicious taste and sweet touch? My appetite for more makes itself known through the deep rumble that breaks free from the back of my throat and my body vibrates with the need to devour every inch of her. To move my kiss down her neck, to the hollow of her throat, over her collarbone to her tight nipples poking out of her thin silk bra.
Ellie grinds against me with shameless desire, my cock fitting nicely against her center, the heat and friction becoming almost too much. Sliding my hands down the small of her back, I palm her ass and lift her up, coaxing her legs to wrap around my hips.
She sucks in a gasp and tears her mouth from mine. “What are you doing?”
The loss of her mouth has me growling, as she pulls her head back, her eyes flashing with surprise, darkened by lust.
I lean in for another quick, teasing kiss, turning us both back toward the road and heading up the beach.
“I’m taking you home to get you warmed up.”
Ellie giggle
s, her hands clasping at the base of my neck, her eyes drifting to my lips before meeting my gaze again. “Oh yeah? How exactly do you plan to do that?”
I squeeze her ass, rocking her against my erection, and smile salaciously. The wispy sound that tumbles out of her throat gives me hope for what’s to come.
We reach my car and I drop her to her feet, groaning as she slides her slick body against mine. Just that friction alone has my aching cock demanding that we speed things along.
Ellie leans back against the car door, my body folding over hers, arms overhead caging her in. My fingertip glides over her shoulder, easing under the strap of her bra as I bend to place open mouthed kisses along the curve of her neck.
“Deacon,” she moans, the sound rolling off her tongue as she arches into my chest.
Her silky flesh tastes of salt water and coconut. I drop my hand to palm her breast, my thumb lazily stroking the tight bud of her nipple as she moans and trembles.
“I’ve waited for so long for this, Elle. The minute we get home, we’re taking a hot shower and I’m going to make you come with my fingers and my tongue. And that’s just for starters. Once you’re warm, I’m going to make you come again, but this time with my cock buried deep inside you.”
Ellie’s uncharacteristically quiet, and I’m worried I stepped over the line by revealing my dirty thoughts and desires. When I tear my mouth away and pull back to look at her, I notice something I’ve never seen in Elle’s expression before.
Pure desire.
Her mouth is lax, her eyes darkly hooded as she bites down on her plump bottom lip, swollen from my kisses. She whimpers and the sound goes straight to my balls.
“Oh my God, Deacon. I had no idea you were a dirty talker.”
I lift an eyebrow, throwing her a flirty smirk as I reposition her bra strap on her shoulder. Shrugging, I open the car door and usher her inside, her head tilted up to stare at me.
“There’s lots of things you might not know about me that I’d like to share with you.”
She gasps at the implication, and give her wink, closing I the door to leave her hanging on my words and what I have in store for her.
Chapter 9
Ellie
This is surreal.
Never in a million years would I have envisioned this sort of sexual fantasy-come-to-life with Deacon in his shower. Naked and getting it on.
The minute we entered his small, two-bedroom beach house, he divested me of my wet clothing and undergarments, leading me straight into his bathroom. As we waited for the water to heat up, he allowed me to remove his jeans and wet briefs, the experience burning a memory into my brain that I will never forget as long as I live.
All six-foot-two of Deacon stands in front of me, naked as the day he was born, as I stare and fondle and touch every glorious inch. His body has only gotten hotter with age.
Rippling abs are certainly the high point, as I trace patterns with my fingertips, enjoying the bowing flex of his muscles every time I smooth over the ridges and valleys. I coast my hands over his shoulders, down his lean torso and caress a path along his narrow hips that converge into a tapered V formation, desperate to lick down his sexy treasure trail.
The highlight of this sexy field trip is obviously the thick, long package that juts out at his belly, twitching with desire to be touched. So, I do.
Now, this isn’t my first rodeo, folks. I’ve seen my share of cocks since losing my virginity in college.
But goddamn, Deacon has been hiding a super-sized sausage from this unsuspecting girl.
I mean, I noticed it in high school in his Speedos, but that was then. And this - holy cow - this is now, and it’s more than a handful.
The good thing about Deacon’s old beach cottage is that it takes the old and cranky pipes forever to produce hot water. Which means as we wait, I have the necessary time to explore and unveil all the sexy secrets he’s been hiding from me all these years. Especially the way he talks dirty to me in a low, raspy tone that I’d never heard before.
My own sex clenches in response when I wrap my fingers around his hard length, his deep masculine rumble stirring the desire within me so high I feel weightless and dizzy. I brush my thumb over the crown, spreading the warm liquid of his pre-cum around the head, enjoying the way his body tenses and flexes at my touch.
One of Deacon’s hands slips through my hair, fingertips massaging my scalp in the same tempo in which I stroke his cock. His other hand drops between my legs, one of his long fingers sliding between my lips, parting them deftly, flicking the pulsing bud of my clit.
“Have you ever thought about this, Elle?” he asks, entering my wetness with a quick thrust of his finger. Our breathy moans mingle in the now steamy bathroom air.
My grip tightens around his cock, circling and stroking in uneven movements, as he thrusts and withdraws, my hips undulate in time with needy rhythm, punching forward to seek the friction. To seek release.
His question catches me by surprise and awakens something that has been buried deep all these years. My attraction to Deacon has always been there in some form and at some level. But I’d always denied it for the sheer fact that he was once my bestie’s boyfriend and it seemed like he was off-limits.
When I don’t answer, he prods me again. “Tell me.”
There’s only one way to answer the question.
“Yes.”
My voice tremors with a release of shaky breath. “But I never thought it would happen.”
He captures my mouth in a dizzying kiss, licking my lower lip as I open on a gasp, my knees wobbling from the intensity.
Deacon nudges me forward into the shower, following closely behind, as I shiver wildly while hot water rains down over me. Standing under the stream of piping hot deluge, his hands grasp my hips and swivel me around to face the tile wall. I slap my forearms against the tile and release a sigh as I’m struck with pleasure, his soapy hands lathering my back.
He moves in close, so his mouth is at my ear, his fingers maneuvering around to my front. My belly quivers knowing the direction he’s taking and wondering where he’ll end up.
Will he go high or low?
With no hesitation whatsoever, Deacon cups my breast with a rough palm and I moan so loudly it echoes off the shower glass and then mixes with the sounds of water rinsing down the drain.
The pinch of my nipple increases my need, doing nothing to tame or quench my desire for him to touch me everywhere. Both of his hands are now in on the action, fondling my small-sized breasts with soapy slickness, plumping the firm flesh in his grip.
“Feels so good,” I moan lustily.
I shift my stance to lean back into his body and feel the hard length of his cock press into the crease of my ass. It seems crazy to think that earlier today we had never seen each other naked or touched any intimate body parts in our life.
And now here we are, caressing and lathering one another up, as he whispers in my ear about all the dirty things he wants to do to me and what he likes.
“Your body is so perfect.”
“I want to lick the water dripping from your nipples.”
“I can’t wait to taste your pussy.”
Deacon nips at my ear and slithers a large palm down my stomach until he reaches the apex between my legs.
Bingo.
“You feel so good, Elle. I can’t get enough of your soft skin.”
His fingers search and find my opening, destroying me as his thumb strums circles over my clit, sending zings of pleasure down to my toes.
The tension wells up low in my belly, my breathing accelerating at the anticipation of the climax that’s sure to come any moment.
Sure enough, the moment he slips two fingers inside me and curves them upward, hitting the detonate button with precision, he sends me flying to the moon.
I don’t orgasm like those loud, well-endowed women in porn, screaming their release like wailing and keening hyenas. No, I’m more on the quiet side, releasing in small
pants of air as my body goes from wound tighter than a stretched rubber band to limp as a bowl of Jello, my limbs wiggly and unable to move on their own accord.
“Damn, that was incredible.”
Taking the support he offers, my head droops back to rest against Deacon’s shoulder, and I tilt my chin up to look into his eyes. His warm, brown-eyed gaze meets mine and he places a gentle kiss on the top of my nose.
And I melt.
“Glad I could be of assistance.”
Spinning in his arms to face him, my hands wind around his lower back and caress the curve of his ass before giving the firm cheeks a squeeze.
“I seem to recall you offering me more of that earlier. Something about your bed and your cock.”
I give him an innocent smile and blink slowly before I step around him and out of the shower, grabbing one of the towels from the stack he’d brought in earlier.
Making haste, I dry off and head toward his king-sized bed, beckoning him with the crook of my finger as I lay down and watch his naked form saunter toward me.
Did I mention this was surreal?
Chapter 10
Deacon
This is fucking unbelievable. A dream come true.
I just gave the girl I’ve been in love with for years, the one who clearly planted me in the friend zone, an orgasm while wet and naked in my shower.
Somebody pinch me because I must be dreaming.
The dream, however, isn’t over yet, as I stalk toward Ellie now laying on her side across my bed, a seductive look on her face and a naughty gleam in her eyes. Her arm is outstretched across the roll of her curvy hip as she beckons me with a “come hither” crook of her finger.
I walk forward in a glazed-horny-zombie-man haze, my inner caveman instincts kicking in when a naked woman wants what you have to offer her. I’d give her anything she wants right now.
Placing a knee on the edge of the bed, I pitch forward and cage her against the mattress, causing her to roll to her back.