Please, Reed…please won’t you put your cock in me?
All right, so maybe that’s not exactly how the conversation went, but you get where I’m going with this.
I’ve got so much pent-up energy careening through my system that I’m half-tempted to grab my gym bag and head over to the athletic center and lift weights. I need to burn off some of this agitation or I’ll never be able to crash tonight. I’ll lay there, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating how I can make this arrangement work with Em.
And that can’t happen. This situation is already a slippery slope. I don’t need anything pushing me in the wrong direction.
I shake my head and glance into the living room. It’s only nine o’clock and this place is already crazy. A steady thumping beat pulses in the background filling the first floor of the house. Laughter and chatter compete to be heard over the music. There’s nothing unusual about everyone turning up at our place. There are four groups of players who rent houses near the university. Ours is the rowdiest. The younger players who are stuck on campus gravitate here.
And who can blame them?
There’s always plenty of beer and pussy to go around.
What more do you need?
Throw in a couple of pizzas and you’re set.
There’s a stack of flat white boxes on the dining room table, so that’s already been covered. About a dozen or so guys are chilling in the living room, drinking beer, and playing a little Call of Duty. At least as many girls have shown up. Already clothing has been shed and couples are getting busy.
Who needs porn when people are practically fucking in front of your face?
Actually, there’s no practically about it.
I shake my head.
This is exactly why I don’t want Emerson hanging out over here. These people give zero fucks about putting on a show. It’s not that she would be offended, but still...
She doesn’t need to party with these assholes. The last thing I want is for her to get mixed up with any of them. Which is exactly why I made her off-limits freshman year. None of these boneheads would treat Em the way she deserves to be treated. Emerson needs a guy who will be considerate and take his time with her. She needs someone who will make her first time amazing.
Why the hell would she ask me to take on that responsibility?
What do I know about going slow and being gentle? I’ve never been with a virgin before. I’ve made it a point to steer clear of girls with little to no experience in that department. They tend to be the ones who get clingy and misinterpret sex for love.
The only person’s gratification I’ve ever been concerned about is my own. Now, that’s not to say that girls don’t leave my bedroom completely satisfied.
Of course, they do. I’m the fucking king of multiple orgasms.
All night long, baby.
I can’t imagine what it would be like to have sex with Em.
Goddamn it. Now I’m thinking about what it would be like to have sex with Emerson. A fine sweat breaks out across my brow as my imagination runs rampant. This is bad. I need to get back to the point where I only think about her as a friend.
Not someone who’s fuckable.
It’s almost a relief when a pair of female hands settle on my chest and snap me out of my Emerson-fueled thoughts. I blink back to the present only to find Jenna Wilson gazing up at me with big green eyes.
Once she has my attention, her lips curve into a sexy smile full of promise. “Hi, Reed. I was hoping to get you alone tonight.”
Even though I’m not feeling it, my mouth crooks at the corners as I settle into the game we’re about to play. “Oh, yeah?”
This girl looks nothing like Emerson, and right now, that’s exactly what I need. Whatever it takes, I have to banish my best friend from my mind along with her tempting offer.
Then tomorrow, when I’m able to think clearly, I’ll let her down gently. She has to realize that us sleeping together would end disastrously. I’ll spread the word that we’re an item and we can ride out the rest of senior year without anyone making another peep about her virginity. Once we go our separate ways next spring, she can take care of business.
And I won’t be around to witness it. I won’t have to think about some guy getting that close to her. I won’t have to watch her fall in love. And I sure as hell won’t have to standby as some dude takes my place in her life.
The thought of not having her by my side next year sucks and I don’t like to dwell on it. Which is crazy, because if all goes according to plan, I’ll be playing in the NHL. I should be totally psyched. Instead…
I shake my head to clear it of those unwanted thoughts.
All of the tension careening through my system calms as I settle on a course of action. Now that I’ve got the situation under control, I focus on the auburn-haired beauty staring up at me like she can’t wait to rip off my clothes and get me naked.
This girl doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. I can fuck her brains out tonight and not think twice about her tomorrow.
Sealing the deal with a kiss, Jenna reaches up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. One hand wanders from my chest to my junk before giving it a squeeze.
A delighted grin spreads across her face at what she finds waiting for her. “Are you ready to take this little party upstairs?”
You bet your damn ass I am. In fact, I’ve never been more ready in my life. I need to cleanse Emerson from my system and I’m hoping Jenna will do the trick.
In answer, I grab her hand and head up the staircase to my bedroom. Unlike a number of my teammates, I’m not into an audience.
“Impatient, much?” Jenna giggles, trailing after me.
She doesn’t know the half of it and it’s highly doubtful she would appreciate that it’s another girl who has me so fucking hard. I may not understand the finer nuances of the fairer sex, but that much I know. You don’t talk about the girl you’re lusting after in front of the one you’re about to screw. That’s boning etiquette 101.
I pull out my key and unlock my bedroom door before tugging her inside.
I just want to get this over with.
Huh?
No…that’s not right. What I meant is that I can’t wait to get this chick naked and bury myself balls deep in her pussy.
There. That’s more like it.
As soon as the door closes, Jenna’s nimble fingers attack her clothing. Apparently, she’s just as impatient to fuck as I am.
Good. That makes things easier.
She strips off her shirt, then her bra, before shimmying out of her shorts. The miniscule thong is the last article of clothing to hit the floor.
Then she’s gloriously naked.
My eyes take a slow tour down the length of her. Jenna is a gorgeous girl. She’s got more of an athletic build which is usually what I go for. Her titties are high and tight with tiny blush-colored nipples.
It’s disconcerting when my dick softens during my perusal.
Oh God, not again…
I can’t deal with this right now. I need my body to get on board with the plan. If I can’t get hard for this girl, then I’ve got a serious issue to contend with.
One time is a fluke.
Two times is a fucking problem that needs medical attention.
Jenna’s hips sway as she struts toward the bed. She’s proud of her body and wants to show it off. Who can blame her for that?
“Are you going to take off your clothes or do you want me to do it?” she purrs.
Ummmm… “You do it.”
Once her hands are stroking over me, I’ll stiffen up. I need to take a deep breath and calm the hell down. This isn’t a big deal. I was hard as steel downstairs when she was touching me.
You know what the problem is?
Stress. I’m way more stressed out than I realized. There’s a lot of pressure going into this season. It has to be a good one. No, not just good. It needs to be fucking phenomenal. One for the record books.
And then there’s school…
I’ve never been a slouch in the academic arena. Some of these guys coast by on their athletic ability, but not me. At some point, every athlete realizes they’re one injury away from the end of their career. When I was awarded an athletic scholarship senior year of high school, Mom pounded it into my brain that I needed to use this opportunity to earn a degree. Something useful. I ended up majoring in communications.
The plan is to play in the NHL for a solid decade. Anything more is gravy. Then, I’m hoping to transition into the field of broadcasting. Last summer, I landed an internship with ESPN and loved it. Sitting in front of a camera and talking about hockey felt natural. So, yeah, I’ve got my professional career mapped out ahead of me, but none of it will come to fruition if I don’t get picked up by a team this spring.
What doesn’t make sense is that sex has always been a way for me to relieve stress. It’s never been something that jacked me up inside.
I shove all those thoughts from my mind and focus on the girl in front of me. Thankfully she’s taking control of the situation. Once she reaches the bed, she presses her palms against my chest and pushes me back so I land on the bed with a bounce. Jenna crawls onto my lap before straddling my torso. Her fingers go to the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head and tossing it to the floor.
I relax against the mattress and allow this girl to work her magic. I need Jenna to do the impossible and evict Emerson from my head once and for all. Jenna’s gaze licks over me before her hands follow suit. She strokes my pectorals and tweaks my nipples. Then she leans over and drags her teeth across my flesh.
Normally, all this foreplay would have me ready to go.
But that isn’t happening.
“Mmmm,” she murmurs. “You have an amazing body. I could play with you all night long.”
“Right back at you, babe.”
She flashes me a sultry smile before kissing her way from my chest to my abs and then further south. When she reaches the waistband of my khaki shorts, she peers up at me before flicking open the button and undoing the zipper. Her fingers tug my shorts down my thighs until she can unveil my cock.
Which is totally flaccid.
I hold my breath, hoping she won’t notice, but the surprised look on her face says otherwise. This has to be one of the more humiliating moments of my life.
Jenna bites her lip and glances at me. Concern swirls in her green eyes. “Is, um, everything okay?”
Hell no, it’s not okay. I’m not sure if anything will ever be okay again.
But I can’t say that. I don’t even want to think it.
“It’s fine,” I grunt. “I just need a little incentive.”
She brightens. “I can do that!”
Jenna is nothing if not a team player. Her fingers stroke over my cock. Playing with it, massaging it, hell—she even gives it a pep talk, but still…nothing happens.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I need to focus. Just think about how damn good it’s going to feel when I slide inside her wet pussy. This isn’t my first hookup with Jenna. The girl definitely has a few tricks up her sleeve. And right now, it would be great if she’d pull those tricks out.
Five tortuous minutes later and I’m starting to lose hope that I’ll ever get another erection again. It’s like I’m dead from the waist down. Maybe I need to have a sit down with the team physician. I’m a healthy, twenty-two-year-old male. This shit isn’t normal. I wrack my brain for diseases that effect being able to get an erection but nothing immediate comes to mind. When I’d been downstairs, thinking about Emerson and the situation we’d discussed at the diner, I’d been hard as hell.
The moment Em pops into my head, my dick stiffens right up. I’m so hard that I could punch a hole through the bedroom wall.
“Yay!” Jenna squeals, clapping her hands in relief.
Freaked out by the situation, I jack-knife to a sitting position and pry Jenna off my dick.
Her brows slam together as her lips sink into a frown. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head and quickly tuck my boner back into my boxer-briefs before yanking up my shorts. “Sorry, this was a mistake.”
“Are you serious?” Her eyes widen with confusion. “But I—”
“Yeah, sorry.” How can I explain myself to this girl when I don’t have a firm grasp on what’s going on inside my own head?
How the hell did my relationship with Emerson become so complicated?
My mind remains frustratingly blank.
There aren’t any answers.
None that don’t involve me having sex with my best friend.
Chapter Eighteen
Emerson
I groan as the alarm goes off on my phone. A dull headache throbs against my temples. It doesn’t feel like I slept a wink last night. Probably because every time I closed my eyes, the humiliating conversation with Reed played through my head as if it was on a constant loop.
Can you imagine asking someone to throw you some pity sex only to be shot down?
More like annihilated on the spot.
I wince at the image.
Unwilling to face the day just yet, I roll to the side and yank my pillow over my head, drowning out the sharp buzzing. How am I supposed to look Reed in the eyes again without reliving that horrific conversation?
Maybe he didn’t give me a flat out no, but he wanted to. The shock that had flared to life in his eyes and the way his lips had compressed into a tight line told me everything I needed to know about his feelings. Reed might have said he would consider the idea, but he’s not going to.
He’s already made his decision.
Obviously, the idea of having sex with me is totally repulsive.
How’s that for a kick in the ass?
Not to mention the ego.
Both feel bruised and tender this morning.
Maybe—physically—I’m not his type. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen Reed with girls who resemble me. Normally he goes for statuesque blondes with tight athletic bodies. And that’s not me. I’m as far from that as you can get.
It takes a moment to realize that the alarm on my phone is no longer making that obnoxious buzzing noise. Which is weird because I’m pretty sure I didn’t turn it off. I snake my hand out from beneath the mountain of covers, groping around on the nightstand next to my bed, but my phone isn’t where I placed it last night.
With a yawn, I reluctantly toss back the covers and sit up, stretching my arms overhead. A movement from the corner of my eye catches my attention and I startle, swinging my head toward the desk.
A yelp of surprise falls from my lips when my eyes collide with the very same Caribbean-colored ones that had been filling my mind. “Reed! What are you doing here?”
In lieu of a greeting, he says, “We need to talk.” Then he returns my phone to the nightstand.
By the grim expression painted across his face, I can imagine what he wants to discuss.
If I wasn’t wide awake moments ago, I certainly am now.
Wanting to avoid the elephant in the room, I ask, “How did you get in here?”
He jerks his blond head toward the bedroom door. “Brin was making a coffee run and let me in.”
Damn that girl. She thwarts me at every turn where Reed is concerned. I need to have a serious talk with her.
Tension pools between us as I look around the room, avoiding Reed and the awkward conversation that’s about to take place. But there’s only so long I can keep that up before my gaze reluctantly settles on him. All at once I’m hit with a punch of unwanted attraction. I can’t help but admire the way his muscular body is stretched out across my desk chair. His long legs are spread wide and his elbows rest on bent knees. He’s wearing a Dri-Fit tank top and athletic shorts with a black Red Devils ballcap turned backwards. There’s a slight flush staining his cheeks.
I’d bet money he came straight over from the athletic center.
With all those well-honed muscles on display, arousal ignite
s in my belly before I quickly stomp it out.
“I’m sorry, Em, I can’t do it.”
My shoulders slump under the weight of his words. This was the outcome I’d been expecting, but it still stings that he won’t consider having sex with me. Reed was my only hope. I don’t have any other close guy friends I could ask to do something like this.
I hate myself for pushing the issue. “Why not?”
A heavy sigh escapes from him before he tears his gaze away and stares pensively out the window that overlooks the courtyard at the back of the building.
Just when I think he won’t answer, his eyes slice back to mine, pinning them in place. “Your friendship means too much to me. I don’t want to jeopardize it for sex.”
I swallow down the thick lump of disappointment that has wedged itself in the middle of my throat. “You assume it’ll ruin our relationship. We don’t have to let that happen.” Why am I arguing with him about this? Obviously, Reed doesn’t want to sleep with me. I need to let it go and move on before I make a bigger fool out of myself.
“It will. Sex between friends always does.”
Unable to sit still for another moment, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and jump to my feet. If the stubborn set of Reed’s chin is any indication, he isn’t going to change his mind anytime soon.
I throw my arms wide as hot licks of frustration bubble up inside me. “Why do you have to make such a big deal out of it?”
It’s only when Reed’s gaze falls from my eyes, crawling down the length of my body, that I remember I’m wearing a tiny pair of sleep shorts and matching tank top that hugs all of my curves. A cherry motif decorates the fabric.
He grumbles under his breath before pulling off the ballcap and plowing a hand through his already disheveled hair.
If any other guy saw me in something so skimpy, I’d be embarrassed. But this is Reed. He’s seen me in a bikini more times than I can remember, so I’m not sure what the big deal is. The shorts and tank top aren’t nearly as revealing as a few of my swimsuits.
Just Friends Page 11