by Jenna Reed
Fuck. There go my panties. Why does he have to be so sweet?
We get our drinks and follow Elijah up to the second floor of the club. There’s people everywhere, dancing, making out, drinking, singing, and having a good time. Once we reach the second floor, I start to see women in skimpy clothing walking between rooms, either taking drink orders or giving lap dances... I’m not really sure which they’re doing.
“This way.” Elijah grabs my hand and pulls me away. Stopping my gawking right in its tracks. A moment later, he opens a pair of double doors leading us into a huge private room. We have our own bar, dance floor, and sitting area. One wall of the room is made completely out of glass and has a view of the dance floor downstairs. It’s intimate but at the same time, still connected to everything taking place downstairs.
My gaze swings around the place. Elegant, but sexy, fitting the owner very much so. The room is dimly lit, the bar and floors made from the same black onyx stone. The room is accented with creams and reds, furthering the sexual appeal of the room.
“Wow, this is amazing! How come I’ve never been up here?”
“I recently had this room added. The construction only finished a few weeks ago. I was gonna hire my favorite interior designer, but she was busy.” Elijah winks at me.
“Sorry, but soon it will finally happen.” He’s been bugging me for ages to work with him on a big project, but until now, our schedules have not lined up.
We walk to the bar area, my heels clack against the floor. I finish my cocktail that we got downstairs and place the glass on the bar. The alcohol lands heavily in my stomach, easing some of the tension out of me.
Erin orders a Sex on the Beach for me next and I roll my eyes. Sneaky witch. I almost down the whole glass in under a minute. Luckily the bartender is very attentive and already has another glass waiting for me.
Drinks keep coming just like the friends and family I had invited. Soon the room fills up, and I find I’m dancing and singing. My plans for the evening fading away drink by drink. I’m tipsy before all my guests even arrive. My sister and her husband come in, and I squeal in excitement, running over to greet them.
“Sis!” I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.
“Bailey. You smell like a liquor store threw up on you.” I pull away with a grin.
I wiggle my eyebrows. “Maybe because it did.” She laughs and I swing my gaze to Trevor, my sister’s husband. Trevor and my sister are high school sweethearts. Their love, while sugary sweet and disgusting at times, is one I can only hope to find.
“Happy Birthday, Bales,” Trevor whispers, wrapping me into a tight hug. All these hugs and love. The room is filled to the brim with joy. As soon as Trevor releases me, I take a sip of my drink.
I feel eyes on me, burning through my dress, and branding into my skin.
I know without even looking for him that it’s Elijah. I peek at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s got a glass of whiskey in his hand, and he’s conversing with a couple of friends I only know because they are his business partners.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach. God, he’s so strong, so sexy looking. He commands the room, commands me. Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this. If I can seduce my best friend. If I can get him to take my virginity.
2
Elijah
I feel like my cock is forever going to be hard, especially if I don’t stop staring at Bailey in that killer dress. I’ve never seen so much of her tits and thighs at one time.
“Off limits. Best friend,” I whisper to myself over and over again. I grip the glass in my hand hard enough for my knuckles to turn white.
“Wow, she looks hot tonight,” Jake tells me, the glass in my hand is seconds from shattering. “I think I’m going to try to make a move again.”
“Again?” I turn, giving him my full attention. Jake is more than one of my business partners, he’s one of my closest friends too.
“Yeah, I hit on her last year, can’t remember where we were. Some birthday party or some shit like that. Anyway, I tried to pick her up that night, but she wouldn’t budge. I think tonight will be the night though. I mean, look at her wearing that fuck-me dress. She’s practically begging for it.”
Oh, I’ve been looking. I have to stop myself from slugging him in the face. Bailey’s not mine. We’re just friends. Friends that could very well be more if only I did the whole more thing. Jake’s entitled to her just as much as the next man is. And yet, that doesn’t mean shit, at least not to me. I don’t have a reason to stand in his way, but I want to.
Jake slaps me on the shoulder before I can stop him. “Wish me luck, man.”
I watch him walk over to Bailey like he’s about to attack his prey. For a moment, I’m frozen, caught up in my thoughts. Is this what she wants? Did she just want to get laid tonight? Is that why she wore the dress she did? The thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
That’s not like Bailey. I don’t know much about her dating life. I don’t ask, and it’s not because I don’t care. If anything, it’s because I care too much.
I always cared a little too much about my best friend, which is exactly why I stay out of her dating life. If I don’t ask, I don’t have to think about it. I like to pretend she doesn’t date at all, and so far, it has worked out great for me. And yes, I know I’m being a complete hypocrite.
I don’t want her to be with anyone else while I fuck my way through the city, but the thing is, I can’t help how I feel. I can’t let go of the thought of her possibly being mine someday.
Even with ignoring any part of her sex life existent or not, I know this isn’t like her. She doesn’t flaunt herself off, flirt, or even really drink. While I wonder what’s going on with her, I catch sight of Jake placing his hand on the small of her back while leaning into her. He whispers something into her ear and her shoulders shake with laughter.
Bastard. I know I’m being irrational, more than irrational since Bailey has had to see me with more than my fair share of women, but I don’t want her with him, with anyone really. Part of me wonders if Jake knows about the lustful thoughts circulating through my mind, or if anyone else knows for that matter. Thoughts that include Bailey on her back with her creamy white thighs wrapped around my face. I down the rest of my whiskey, letting it coat my insides with warmth. I’m seconds away from turning around and finding the nearest chick to bury my cock in when I see Jake’s hand lower and slide over the top of her ass. I try and think back to what my father always told me, love em’ and leave em’ son, do it before they can do it to you. I’ve always applied that methodology to my life, never letting a woman inside my heart, no one but Bailey.
Squeezing the glass in my hands harder than needed, I place it down on a nearby table before I make a scene by breaking it.
Motherfucker.
Trying my best to contain the fury burning deep inside of me over something that I have no reason being angry over, I waltz over to them. Coming up on the other side of Bailey, I gently grab her elbow and twirl her around to face me. She gasps at the movement and damn near trips over her own feet, but of course, just like always, I catch her.
“Birthday dance?!” The words come out part question, part command as I lean into her face. Either way, she doesn’t object. In fact, it’s quite the opposite, actually. Even though she has no reason to remain holding on to me, she still hasn’t let go. Her hands clutch onto my arms, her fingers grabbing onto my shirt as if she is scared I’ll run away. As if I could ever do that.
Her sweet scent tickles my nostrils, making my mouth water.
Strawberries and cream.
Fuck, I wonder if she tastes as good as she smells.
“Okay,” she slurs, her vibrant emerald eyes peering up at me. “Let’s dance.” Guiding us out onto the dance floor, I pull her closer, relishing in the feeling of having her in my arms. Towering over her small form, I realize just how much bigger I am than her.
“Thank you… for all of this. The
room, for inviting all our friends,” she murmurs, placing her cheek against my chest. I wonder if she can feel how hard my heart is beating, how sweaty my palms are, how nervous she makes me feel even though I’ve got more experience than the normal man with women. This. Her. She makes it worth the while for me. Our friendship, everything about her I cherish, and will for the rest of my life.
Once upon a time, I thought maybe we could cross that line, the one between friendship and something more, but it changed in an instant. The thought of losing her... suddenly became more important than getting a taste of what she had between her legs. The risk wasn’t worth it to me. So while it might kill me to see Jake come onto her, it is what it is.
“I would do anything for you, Bailey. You know that, right?” I ask, hoping like hell that she does. She pulls away briefly, lifting her face so she can see me.
“Of course, I know that.” She giggles softly, but her eyes give her away. While there is joy and happiness reflecting in her gaze, there is something else too, something I can’t quite pinpoint.
“Good.” I lean forward, my lips grazing the top of her forehead. “You deserve the best and I really do hope you’re having a good time.”
The song ends, and I release her with a twirl. Her eyes twinkle with amusement, and she exhales another feminine giggle, before walking back toward Jake, Erin and a couple of other people. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I head toward the bar and order another whiskey. Minutes tick by, and as I stand along the sidelines, watching as she mingles with her sister, some college friends, Sam, and Tina, I think, as well as some other mutual friends that we share. I don’t care about anyone else that’s here, no one but her.
Jake continues to make small talk with her, and I watch with barely contained anger as he wraps an arm around her waist. That fucker is just pressing his luck tonight.
“Why do you look like you’re ready to stab Jake in the heart and watch him bleed out?”
My brother Asher’s voice fills my ears and I swing around giving him a knowing smirk.
“I’m not looking at him like anything,” I lie, covering up said lie by taking a swig of my drink. Asher rolls his eyes.
“Right, just like you don’t secretly have the hots for Bailey.” This time, I shoot him an actual look that says shut-the-fuck-up.
“Knock it off. It’s not like that, and you know it,” I growl, my mood turning more and more sour with each tick of the clock.
He lifts his hands in an ‘I’m innocent way.’ “Whatever you say, little brother. I’ve known you long enough to know that, that girl right there, she owns your heart. She’s owned it since the day you jumped in that muddy puddle and splashed water on her sunflower dress.”
I clench my jaw. Honesty, while great and all, is a horrible fucking thing.
“Can we not do this tonight? It’s her birthday. Plus, you know I know it’ll never work out. Bailey deserves better, so stop pushing the matter.” I take another drink, only to realize I’m out. Asher knows things even Bailey doesn’t. He knows about the time I almost kissed her back in high school, about all the times I threatened guys that liked her, beating the fuck out of them if they even looked in her direction. I was most likely the reason she never got a date in high school. No, I’m positive I was the reason.
She was always meant to be mine, but would never fully be.
“Of course, and just so you know. I’m aware it’s her birthday, in case you forgot I’m her friend too.” He cheats and moves out of the shadows and in the direction of her and her friends. As soon as she sees him, she all but jumps into his arms.
I order another drink and let time tick by. It doesn’t take long for people to start clearing out. By one in the morning, it’s just Bailey, Erin, the bartender, and I.
The girls move into a booth seat and I bring over a tray of shots, sliding in on Bailey’s side. I stifle the groan that burns to escape my lips when I see that creamy bare flesh of her thighs, her dress having ridden up as she moved into the booth.
I chalk the feelings I’m having tonight up to the fact that I need to get laid. It’s a logical reason. My cock simply needs a little attention, and not from the green-eyed beauty beside me.
“Oh my god, no,” Bailey whines, scrubbing a hand down her face.
“Oh yes, oh yes.” Erin rubs her hands together like the devil.
“Shots anyone?” I question with a grin. Bailey shakes her head, her eyes roaming over all the shot glasses.
“I swear to God if you put tequila in those, you’re going to be responsible for everything that happens tonight.”
Either that’s a warning of what’s to come, or I’m still thinking with my cock. I shove the thought away and grab one of the shots.
“Guess you’ll have to take one to find out,” I tease before bringing the shot glass to my lips and tipping it back. The tequila burns the entire way down, and I shake a little bit from the tingle it gives me. Erin and Rick, my head bartender, take a shot with me, but Bailey shakes her head.
“I think I’ve had enough liquid courage,” Bailey mumbles, making me wonder what she is talking about. Liquid courage, what the hell does she need that for? As if Erin knows, because of course she knows, she cuts in, steering the conversation in another direction before I can ask what Bailey is talking about.
“So Rick, you’re new here, aren’t you? I’m sure I would know if I had seen you here before.”
“Yeah, I just started here a few weeks ago. Elijah really helped me out when I needed a job—”
“Do you live close by?” Erin interrupts yet again.
Rick looks at her wide-eyed for a moment, obviously trying to figure out if he is reading the situation correctly.
“Would you like to show me where you live?” Erin asks seductively, leaving no doubt that she wants him to take her home, and well, Rick being a man, I wouldn’t expect any less of him.
“Yes, sure… you want to go now?” Rick barely finishes asking, and Erin is moving, shoving out of the booth to stand.
“Let’s go. Elijah, will you make sure Bailey gets home?”
“Of course,” I tell her. Erin throws her arms around our best friend, giving her a hug while whispering something into her ear. When Erin pulls away, there is a sly grin on her lips.
“Goodnight, Elijah.” She winks, then grabs Rick by the arm, pulling him toward the door. Rick looks a little scared, but he’ll be fine. Erin’s a good woman.
“She’s intense and bossy, and…” Bailey sighs, her beautiful green eyes colliding with mine as she turns in the booth. I hold her gaze and grab another shot, feeling the sudden need to take one now that we’re alone. Why does she have to be so beautiful, so fucking perfect.
None of the women I fuck could ever compare to her, and yet here I sit permanently in the friend zone because I’m too afraid of losing her. She’s worth more than a quick fuck, I know this. But it doesn’t make my cock want her any less. I cringe at the burn the tequila leaves in its wake. I place the shot back down on the table, watching as Bailey moves, pushing up onto her knees. Her movements are slow, calculated as if she’s planned them.
My brows furrowed in confusion.
What the fuck is she doing?
Before I can ask her, she’s crawling across my lap, straddling me. My eyes widen at the sight of her sitting on my lap, her big eyes peering up at me, a seductive grin on her pink painted lips. I freeze then, my hands going to her bare thighs. I know I should push her away, because god, she must be really drunk if she’s coming onto me like this, but it’s exactly what I want, what I need. What I’ve been fantasizing about for years. Fuck… this is bad, but so fucking good too.
Her hands trail up over my stomach, up my chest, and to my shoulders, and though we’re both still fully clothed, I swear I can feel every single fucking touch, like it’s a fiery brand on my soul. This isn’t just crossing the line, this is obliterating it and I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to put a stop to it.
“Make
me feel good. Show me what all the other women get when they come onto you?”
Like an ice water bucket poured over my head, I sober up. Lust turning into anger. Anger that’s burning hot through my veins at her words. She thinks she’s comparable to all the fucking women I’ve fucked? She thinks she’s like them? She doesn’t have a fucking clue how precious she is to me.
“You’re not like other women, Bailey, and we shouldn’t do this. You’re drunk, and so am I,” I lie, knowing we’re both very much tipsy but not drunk enough to not remember all of this tomorrow morning or knowing what we are doing now.
She’ll regret this. She’ll hate you.
“I want you,” she purrs, licking her lips as her eyes move to my lips. Her hands still sit heavily on my shoulders, and it feels like the weight of the world is there. Like if I let this happen, I’ll be damned. There’s so much at risk here.
“We shouldn’t,” I groan, feeling her grind herself against my already hardened cock. If she was anyone else, she would be bare and laid across the fucking booth, my cock in her cunt already. But she’s not like anyone else, she is Bailey, my best friend, and the only woman I ever truly loved.
“We should. You want me. I can feel it.” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to gain even an inch of strength to stop this. I’m not a good man, not a strong man. I’m weak for her, weak with need, with lust, with want. Without any hesitation, her lips collide with mine. My eyes pop open and a zing of pleasure like I’ve never felt before rips through me.
I kiss her back, and it feels like I’m drowning in her. My hands move on their own, mapping out her body, moving from her bare thighs over her curvy hips. I squeeze her flesh between my hands, and she rewards me by moaning into my mouth.
Slowly my fingers find their way into her curls, and soon I’m tugging on the strands, deepening the kiss instead of pushing her away. She grinds her center against me, and I can feel the heat and the dampness of her arousal against my dress slacks. I need to stop this, or at the very least warn her. Pulling away just enough to speak, I hold her in place by her hair, my eyes taking in her face. Swollen lips, big eyes, and pink cheeks.