“Em,” I groan. “I’m going to come.”
When my eyes cross, I know we’re past the point of no return. My hips gyrate against her, but I’m careful not to go crazy.
I bite my lip, groaning out my release, half-afraid she doesn’t realize what she’s gotten herself into. I’ve had girls who swallow and I’ve had ones who spit. I’m not offended by someone who can’t handle the jizz.
To each their own.
But Em latches on to my cock and continues to suck me the entire time.
Fuuuuuuuck!
Normally, I’d close my eyes and enjoy the orgasm as it rolls through my body, but I can’t do that. Instead, I keep my gaze pinned to Em and the connection between us deepens. Somehow strengthening and solidifying years of friendship. Seeing this girl on her knees, gaze fastened to mine while she milks my dick, is probably the sexiest thing in the whole damn world. Emotion explodes in my chest as she presses a soft kiss against the tip and rises gracefully to her feet.
With a growl, I pull her into my arms right before my lips slide over hers.
If I’d thought that having an impromptu blowjob would dull the lust careening through my veins, I was wrong. It only makes me want this girl more.
And that, my friends, is the moment I realize I’m in a shitload of trouble.
Chapter Thirty-One
Emerson
There’s an aura of heaviness that blankets us as we leave the windy city behind in the rearview mirror of Reed’s truck. Neither of us have much to say. We’re both lost in our own thoughts. The energy this morning is completely different than when we made the drive to Chicago two days ago. At that time, there’d been a feeling of nervous anticipation brimming in the air.
I glance at Reed and try to gauge his mood. There’s a tightness bracketing his lips and his jaw is firmly locked, giving him a pensive look.
Which makes sense. I’m sure he’s going over every detail of what happened this weekend with the team. Dependent on how Reed performed and what the coaches thought, the Blackhawks could decide to draft him.
Or take a pass.
Although they’d be foolish to do that. Reed is the whole package.
But that’s not what keeps circling through my head. Instead of dwelling on Reed’s NHL prospects, I can’t stop thinking about how much I enjoyed our time together.
I didn’t go into this weekend with preconceived notions about sex. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect. You hear a lot of different stories. I knew it would be painful and feel kind of awkward (and it did). Brinley forewarned me that I probably wouldn’t come the first time (she was right). But then again, she also said that if anyone could make a first time good, it would be Reed Philips (and she was right about that as well).
Reed took the time to ensure my experience was fantastic. I would have never expected such tenderness from him. I also wouldn’t have expected him to research the topic so he had a better understanding of what I was going through.
After the team party last evening, we returned to the hotel. A few of the younger players tried cajoling us into hitting the nightclubs with them, but Reed took a pass. I’m sure they wanted to take him out and show him a good time. If I hadn’t tagged along for the weekend, Reed probably would have joined them for a night out on the town.
During the limo ride to the hotel, I told him we could go out with the guys. Or, if he preferred to drop me off, he could meet up with them on his own. But Reed shook his head, adamant that he wasn’t interested in partying. Then he pulled me onto his lap, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me senseless.
For the record, Reed Philips is an amazing kisser. The moment his lips slant over mine, it’s like my brain leaks right out of my head. But then again, it shouldn’t come as any surprise that he’s amazing at everything.
Yeah…ev-ery-thing.
Unwittingly, he’s set the bar so impossibly high that I doubt any guy will ever be able to top that experience. I feel unexpectedly wrecked by what we shared. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. In hindsight, maybe it would have been better to hookup with a random dude at a party. Then there would be nowhere to go but up. That probably should have been a consideration before asking him to take my virginity. Since there’s nothing I can do about it now, I shove that thought to the back of my mind.
The strains of alternative rock fill the silence of the truck. My gaze shifts to Reed as I silently take in his profile. With him focused on the black ribbon of asphalt stretched out before us, I’m free to look my fill. There’s this aura of sexiness about him that I never took notice of before. It reverberates throughout my core, making it throb to life with painful awareness.
My gaze drops to his hands which are loosely draped across the wheel. Less than twenty-four hours ago, they’d been stroking over me, leaving a hot trail of pleasure in their wake. Reed has large, powerful hands. When we’d been walking around downtown, his fingers had swallowed mine up. In bed, he would cup my breasts with them. My boobs aren’t small by any stretch of the imagination, but they’d fit perfectly in his hands. It’s as if my body had been designed specifically for him.
When I close my eyes, I can almost feel the rough slide of them over my naked flesh.
I have to mentally shake myself from the stupor I’ve slipped into before yanking my gaze from his hands. My mouth turns cottony as I try to swallow. This kind of raw attraction is new to me and I never expected to feel it for Reed.
The arousal that has pooled in my core turns to lead when I think about us moving forward from this weekend. If I’m lucky, these feelings of desire will dissipate once we return to school. Time and distance will hopefully help with the situation.
The deal we made rushes through my head. It was a—what happens in Chicago, stays in Chicago kind of arrangement. We’d sex it up for roughly forty hours and when we got back, everything would revert to the way it’s always been.
Coming into this weekend, it had felt smart and responsible to set a few ground rules. Unfortunately, I’m no longer sure they’ll be enough to salvage our relationship.
How can I possibly revert back to thinking of Reed as a friend?
How do I turn off emotions I never realized were simmering beneath the surface?
At the end of this year, my whole world will change. The loss of Reed’s friendship can’t be one of them. Which means I need to act completely normal. He can’t discover that my feelings for him have deepened.
I stifle a groan.
Can you imagine his response?
Reed isn’t the girlfriend type. He’d probably freak out. And I can’t blame him for that. He did me a favor by taking my virginity. I can’t turn around and fall in love with the guy.
My heart skips a beat as that thought echoes throughout my head.
I am not in love with Reed.
Not like that.
Okay…maybe it is exactly like that.
Fuck. This is a mess.
A mess I have no idea how to fix. I steal another glance at him. Whatever I’m feeling, I need to keep it under wraps and pray that it fades before it can permanently damage our relationship.
As if sensing my scrutiny, Reed looks in my direction. A small smile curves the edges of his lips when he catches me checking him out. My gaze drops to his mouth and the muscles in my belly clench as lust once again takes root inside me.
Argh! How do I stop this from spiraling any further out of control?
When I remain silent, he asks, “What are you thinking about?”
I tear my gaze away, not wanting him to glimpse the confusion simmering there. Reed has always been the one person in my life who knows me best. I don’t want him to use that against me. In an attempt to calm the chaos rioting inside me, I suck in a deep breath before gradually releasing it.
I can do this.
I can play it cool.
I can pretend that I’m not sitting here, tied up in knots because I’m in love with my best friend.
“Em?” Conce
rn weaves its way through his voice.
It takes a moment for me to lock down my emotions.
“I was thinking about Chicago and how great it was.” I paste an overly bright smile on my face before turning to him again. “Thanks for letting me come with.”
“Yeah, it was fun.”
Even though I don’t want there to be any weirdness between us, there is. As much as I hate the thought of clearing the air, that’s exactly what needs to happen.
And what better time than the present?
While we’re trapped on the road for another three hours…
But we’re adults. We can handle the situation maturely.
“About this weekend,” I turn more fully toward him, “I don’t want you to worry that it’ll change our relationship. It won’t.” Mostly because I won’t let it.
Reed’s eyes stay focused on the road beyond the windshield. The longer he remains silent, the more unease prickles at the bottom of my belly.
When he clears his throat, nerves shoot through me.
“Em, I—”
Oh God, here it comes. I can almost hear the pity dripping from his voice. This is where he lets me down gently. And right now, feeling as raw as I do, I don’t think I could bear that.
“Reed!”
His eyes jerk to mine in surprise before arrowing to the road again. “What?”
“Chicago was wonderful and,” I glance away as heat floods my cheeks, “I appreciate you helping me out, but I don’t want our relationship to change. Like you said, it was a one-time deal.”
More like a four-time deal, but who’s counting.
“Right,” he says, drawling out the word. “It’s just that what happened means something, you know?”
“Of course it does.” As difficult as it is, I force myself to push the rest out. “But that doesn’t mean anything needs to change between us. We’re still just Em and Reed, right?”
His gaze flicks in my direction as his tone softens. “We’ll always be Em and Reed.”
The tension in my shoulders drains as relief sweeps through me. “Good. I’m glad we’re both on the same page.”
“Yeah, we’re on the same page.” There’s a pause. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
Not at all. But I can’t risk losing Reed’s friendship.
“Yes, it’s what I want.”
His lips flatten. “Then that’s how it’ll be.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Reed
It’s midafternoon when we roll up to Emerson’s apartment building. I pull the truck into a parking spot near the entrance and cut the engine. I’ve spent the last fifty miles going back and forth in my head, wanting to tell her how I feel. I’d open my mouth, ready to lay it all out there, only to slam it shut two seconds later.
How can I do that when Em made it perfectly clear that she’s not interested in anything more than friendship?
So, I did the only thing I could and sat there like a dumbass with my trap shut.
The problem is, I’m not sure if we can be just friends after what went down between us this weekend. And I sure as hell don’t know if I can sit quietly on the sidelines and watch her date other dudes. The thought of that happening makes me want to punch something.
Or someone.
Brady Anderson’s grinning mug materializes in my mind.
Yeah, I’d definitely like to beat the crap out of him for entertaining ideas about Em. Those thoughts were written all over his face every time he looked at her. That’s one of the reasons we didn’t go out with the team after the party. There was no damn way I was going to watch him hit on her for the rest of the night. But more than that, I wanted Emerson all to myself.
I didn’t want to waste a single moment of our time together.
And we didn’t.
As gorgeous as Em had looked in that dress, it was stripped off her the moment we stepped into the penthouse. I filled the massive soaker tub and carried her to the bathroom. We enjoyed a hot sudsy bath and for a moment, having her in my arms was enough.
Then I wrapped her up in a fluffy towel, carried her to the bed, and we made love all night. Every time we dozed off, one of us would wake up and touch the other and we’d end up doing it all over again. It was the perfect way to end the weekend.
I pop the back of the truck and pull her suitcase from the trunk before setting it on the sidewalk. I wrack my brain for something to say, something that will smooth the growing tension between us, but there’s nothing. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I want more, that I want what we had in Chicago, but I’m scared she doesn’t feel the way I do.
What am I thinking?
Of course, she doesn’t feel the same. She made it perfectly clear that I’m nothing more than a friend.
Emerson grabs her purse from the passenger seat and comes around to stand next to her suitcase.
She smiles as her eyes lift to mine. “Thanks again for letting me tag along.”
Tag along?
Is that all this weekend was to her?
She tagged along and I boned her in between team meetings?
“No problem.” The thought leaves a nasty taste in my mouth. To me, it was so much more than that.
We study each other for a long, stretched out moment and yet neither of us bring up what’s really bubbling beneath the surface.
Just as it takes a turn for the awkward, Emerson glances away and jerks her thumb toward the building. “I should go. I have reading to finish up for Monday.”
Panic fills me as her fingers grip the handle of her bag. I latch on to the flimsiest excuse to keep her with me. “Do you want me to bring that up for you?”
She waves me off. “No, I’ve got it. But thanks.” Her feet are moving as if she can’t get away from me fast enough.
“All right,” I mutter.
She glances at me and takes a few more steps. “I guess this is goodbye.”
“Yeah.” The further she gets, the more tension gathers in my shoulders. It’s like there’s a direct correlation between the two. I’m tempted to leap forward and grab her.
Once the distance widens, I do exactly what my instincts are prodding me to. It takes four long strides before I’m in striking distance. I tug Emerson into my arms as my lips crash onto hers. For just a moment, I worry that she’ll push me away. Instead, she opens under the firm pressure of my mouth. My grip eases when her body melts against mine. Our tongues sweep against each other in a deep kiss that lifts the oppressive heaviness that had settled over us on the drive home.
It’s only when I hear a group of giggling girls, that I remember we’re locking lips in the parking lot of Em’s building. Reluctantly, I untangle myself from her. My hands cup the sides of her face as she stares at me with wide unfocused eyes.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” I need to know that she isn’t going to blow me off because of the intimacy we shared.
Still looking befuddled, she nods and picks up her suitcase before heading toward the building. I shove my hands in the pockets of my shorts and fight the urge to stop her. When she reaches the apartment, she hesitates and throws a glance over her shoulder. A guy walking out holds the door open for her. The way his gaze cruises over her body leaves my jaw clenching and my hands balling into fists. Acting on instinct, I take a step forward before grinding to a halt.
When it comes down to it, I don’t have any claim on Emerson.
She’s not mine.
No matter how much I might wish differently.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Emerson
A quick rap of knuckles on my door is all the warning I’m given before Brinley pokes her head in the bedroom. I swivel on my chair, away from the desk I’ve been working at for the last hour. Instead of digging in and cracking out thirty pages of reading, I’ve skimmed over the same couple of paragraphs at least ten times and I still couldn’t tell you what was written on the page.
Concentration is not my friend today.
<
br /> Nor has it been my friend the last couple of days, if I’m being completely honest.
I find myself daydreaming about last weekend at the most inopportune times. Sitting in class, waitressing at Stella’s, or studying on the third floor of the library. Enough is enough. I need to snap out of this funk already and move on with my life.
What other choice do I have?
“Hey girl, how are you doing?” She tilts her head and watches me from across the room.
“I’m good.” I give Brinley a slight smile in greeting, but the concerned expression on her face tells me that I’m not fooling her for a moment, which isn’t surprising. We’ve been friends long enough for her to know when I’m going through the motions.
Under normal circumstances, I love that about our friendship. But right now, not so much. I don’t want to discuss Reed. Or this weekend. Or how my feelings have morphed into something deeper. The only way for me to move forward is to forget about what happened in Chicago so my friendship with Reed can remain intact.
Not waiting for an invitation, Brinley saunters into the room and plops down on the bed before tucking her bare feet beneath her. She studies me for a moment, her eyes roving over my face. I get the feeling she notices more than I’m comfortable with.
“I haven’t seen much of you lately,” she says. “What’s been going on?”
I shrug and wave my hand toward the book splayed open on my desk. “I’ve been swamped with classes.” It’s not a lie. I have been busy with homework.
Her eyes narrow. “Uh-ha.” In Brinley speak that means—I don’t believe a damn word you’re saying.
When I remain silent, she arches a brow and continues poking around where she doesn’t belong. “You never told me how the weekend went.” She curls her fingers in a gimme gesture. “Lay the deets on me. I’m dying to know what happened. Give me all the nitty gritty details and don’t leave anything out.”
Just Friends Page 21