by Jenna Reed
While Elijah goes for magazine cover beauty, I go for fresh, no makeup beauty.
He lifts an accusing brow. “You are, and nothing will ever change that, nothing either of us says or do will change our friendship. I won’t let it, but we do, however, need to talk about what happened.”
“I don’t know if that’s—” I don’t get a chance to finish what I’m saying because Elijah places a thick finger against my lips, halting me. The touch though subtle and hardly a touch at all, sends a lightning bolt of pleasure through my body.
“We’ve already crossed the line, and dove head first into uncharted waters. I’ve had a taste of you, Bailey, but it’s not enough for me. I want more. I need my fill of you. I just need to figure out how to get it without hurting either of us.” At his words, I freeze. The seductive tone of his voice makes me shiver, and his darkened gaze tells me he’s not lying.
He wants more, but I suppose the growing question is, can I give him more? We’re supposed to be just friends… and he doesn’t do the whole dating thing, so where would that lead us? Toward further heartache? I know there’s no way I’ll survive getting my heart broken by him, just like I’ll never survive losing him as my best friend.
“Come on, Bailey, we both know there is no going back. Not completely anyway. I don’t know how to fix us right now, but I know that I want you again, and I know you want me too.”
“Elijah…” I whine, knowing damn well at any second I’ll give into him. The thought of letting him have his way with me again is too tempting, and we really do need to talk about all of this, face to face, whether that be over dinner, or well he’s deep inside me.
“Dinner, Sunflower… and maybe a kiss or two. It’s not a date, it’s nothing at all, so don’t freak out on me, okay?” His finger moves, trailing over my plump bottom lip, his hooded eyes honing in on the motion of his finger as he skims over it. “I just can’t stop thinking about what happened between us. About the sounds you made, the way you said my name as you came. I can’t stop thinking about…” He trails off, the elevator dinging behind us. My eyebrows pinch together and I damn near frown at the sound.
He pulls away a second later, and I’m left gaping up at him, my stomach twists, and my heart beats furiously. I blink a couple times, pulling myself from the trance his touch put me in. He moves as if he’s unaffected, heading toward the elevator to greet whoever just got off.
“Mrs. Rosen, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” I hear him say, but still remain standing where I am. I can’t believe he said he wants to kiss me again, that he can’t stop thinking about... well he didn’t finish his sentence, but I can only assume he was going to say our night together.
“Oh, you’re too sweet, Mr. Westbrook,” a woman gushes behind me and I twist around, my eyes landing on a woman that has Elijah written all over her.
She’s tall, toned, and tan, with a face painted with makeup on it. She’s wearing a designer pencil skirt and blouse that shows off her assets, if you know what I mean. Her pointed heels look like they might snap if she steps to hard on them. She’d make the perfect suburban housewife. Inky black jealousy digs its claws into my skin when I see him place his hand at the small of her back and guide her toward his office.
“Let’s go discuss this arrangement in my office,” he says, the sound of their footsteps sounding off in the distance.
Gritting my teeth, I walk over to the little desk I had him get me to do the work he needs me to do. I fall into the office chair and squeeze my eyes closed. Jealous. As if. I’ve never been jealous before, and I’ve seen Elijah with a lot, and I do mean a shit ton of women. All of varying degrees, and from many different walks of life. They only had one thing in common, model-like beauty.
But this time it feels different, like he’s cheating or something, and I can’t shake the ache slicing through my chest no matter how much I try. Why is this bothering me so much? It’s not the first time he’s taken a woman in his office and did God knows what with her.
Trying to calm myself only enrages me more, because with each deep exhale, I’m reminded of the silence that surrounds me and the fact that he’s still in his office with her.
This is bad, very bad. The loud thumping of my heart fills my ears. Pff, I have no reason to be jealous. He told me he wants me, that he wants to kiss me again. The thoughts make me smile, no matter how wrong they are. Friends cannot be lovers and still be friends. It’s humanly impossible and still, we’re toeing the line, pushing the limits.
Seconds tick by and my eyes move to the heavy wooden door leading into Elijah’s office. I can’t focus on anything, not with him in there with her. Not while I’m wondering what the hell they’re talking about or doing. What’s taking them so long? Warmth flushes through me, and with each minute that passes and the door remains closed, that jealousy sinks deeper inside me, eating away at all the good thoughts wreaking havoc on my mind.
Finally, and thankfully so, the damn door opens, and the woman comes out, a bright smile on her face. Looking away and down to the papers on my desk, I pretend to not notice her, or even Elijah as he exits his office behind her, showing her to the elevator. Once inside, they say their goodbyes, and the elevator doors close with her inside.
I tap the pen in my hand against my desk repeatedly, telling myself that I’m not jealous… no way, there has to be another reason as to why I would want to claw that woman’s eyes out of her face.
“So dinner?” Elijah bellies up to my desk, his presence is overwhelming, his warm scent tickles the fine hairs of my nose and I wish like hell I could ignore him.
“Can’t. I have a date,” I say without even looking up at him. A deep chuckle resonates through the room and against my better judgment, I look up at the bastard through my lashes, seeing the widened grin on his face.
“A date?” His laughter continues, his smile showing off his perfectly straight white teeth and the adorable dimples on his face. Stupid dimples. Stupid smile. “No offense, Sunflower, but you don’t date. Like ever. Asher told me so and we’ve known you for a long time, since like...” He taps at his chin and I have half a mind to slug him for being a smug asshole. “Since kindergarten.”
My eyebrows pull together and I toss the pen onto the desk, taking my arms and crossing them over my chest defensively. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means someone is jealous and trying to come up with a reason not to say yes to dinner with me. Maybe even trying to make me jealous?” He wiggles his eyebrows in a playful way. Ha, as if I could find someone to make him jealous, who is he trying to kid?
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, hating that he is one hundred percent right and that he knows it. His arrogance is as infuriating as it is attractive, and I still kind of want to slug him.
“Okay, so I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow, or would you rather meet at Sullivan’s... since it’s not a date.”
“I’ll meet you there,” I blurt out without thinking about it. Shit. I just agreed to go to dinner with him. That sly little bastard got me all confused. He knows it too. The wicked grin gracing his lips a clear indication that this had been his plan all along.
“So, now that we got that out of the way, why don’t you show me what you’ve got so far?” I sigh, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something stupid.
“Sure,” I mumble, grabbing the folder from the corner of the desk with the designs in it that I came up for the new nightclub. I open it and get out some of the examples for him to look over. He leans over my desk, inspecting the papers, but it takes everything in me not to push back against him. I can feel the heat of his body against mine, the smell of his cologne fills my head.
“Which one do you like the best?” he casually asks, apparently not affected by my presence, or at least he does a much better job of showing it than me.
“This one,” I tell him, pointing to the one I would pick if it were my business.
“Great, let’s go with that one then,�
� he says without thinking it over, or even questioning the design further. “You have my stamp of approval, and as always, you know what’s best for me, so if you like it then I know I will.” I don’t miss the heat of his breath on the shell of my ear, nor do I miss the skimming of his lips against the sensitive flesh over my throbbing pulse as he moves said lips south.
Jesus… My face flames and it feels like I’m about to have a heat stroke. Thank god, he can’t see the desire that I know for sure is pooling in my eyes. My pussy clenches around nothing, and I wish like hell it was his cock, or even his finger inside me right now.
“You’ve done such a great job today, why don’t you head back to your apartment.” He clears his throat, straightening back up and if I wasn’t so flustered myself, I would laugh at him.
“I…” God. I’m so flustered I can’t even talk, my tongue feels like it weighs ten tons. “I… I literally just walked in.”
“So, your point is? You deserve it, take the afternoon off, go read a book, drink some coffee.” Why does he tempt me like this? “I have to go to an appointment on the other side of town, so I won’t be here anyway, and I don’t want you to be stuck in the office for the rest of the day without my company.”
“I’m supposed to work for you, not be here to enjoy the day with a friend.” Even though I do enjoy my work.
“But that’s the best part of working together. We can hang out all day.”
Worrying my bottom lip, I contemplate his proposal, but before I can respond, he’s talking again. “Come on, Sunflower, I’ll walk down with you.” He takes my clammy hand into his huge one and pulls me up from my chair to stand.
My legs wobble under the weight of my body. Why does he have this effect on me? No man has ever made me weak in the knees, or made it feel like there was an entire zoo taking up housing in my stomach.
“Sure, why not…” I manage to get out, grabbing my stuff before heading toward the elevator. With soaked panties, and my heart beating out of my chest, I allow him to walk me to my car. The precarious line between friendship and whatever the hell this is, being obliterated ever so slowly.
8
Elijah
I get to the restaurant twenty minutes before seven. Getting here early was the only thing I could do to keep myself from picking her up along the way. Sullivan’s is a little Italian restaurant that serves the best spaghetti and meatballs in the Tri-state area and since it’s Bailey’s favorite, I knew it would be easy to get her here over anywhere else.
My eyes skim over the menu even though I have the damn thing memorized front to back. We’ve eaten here enough times over the years that I know what to order for Bailey without even needing to ask her or see the menu, for that matter.
Placing the menu down on the table, I exhale, forcing all the air from my lungs. Then I run a hand through my hair, partially out of habit, partially out of nervousness. I have to keep reminding myself that this is not a date, which is hard when it feels so much like one.
This is simply two friends having dinner at a casual restaurant. There’s nothing romantic taking place between us. This is definitely not a date. Totally not a date. I keep repeating the words to myself, thinking maybe if I say them ten more times, it will feel less like a lie, because that’s what this is, a lie. All of this.
Because the truth is, I want this to be a date, I want to have a romantic dinner with her and then I want to take her home and into my bed. I want to devour her like I did on her birthday, but this time I want to wake up next to her and then I want to do it all over again.
The waitress comes a few moments later, a glowing smile on her face when she sees me, recognition flickering in her eyes. Like I said, we’ve frequented this restaurant often enough that some of the employees know us by name. This particular blonde, I believe we’ve met once or twice before.
Greeting the woman, I say, “Hello.” Then I order a beer for myself and an unsweetened tea with a slice of lemon for Bailey. A few minutes later, the waitress returns, setting the drinks down on the table. She lingers, batting her eyelashes at me while nibbling on her bottom lip seductively. Nice try babe, but I’ve got something better coming.
I ignore her completely, wishing we had got a guy waiter or some middle-aged woman instead of this young blonde.
Although, seeing Bailey get jealous yesterday did have its appeals. In all the years we’ve been friends, she’s never once shown an ounce of jealousy. She’s watched me screw my way through half of the state and never showed any anger until now.
Bringing the glass of beer to my mouth, I take a sip, the head of the beer passes my lips right as I catch her walking through the front entrance. The hostess greets her, and Bailey smiles, though it seems there is an anxiousness about her body language. It’s in the way she’s holding her arms across her chest, and the fidgeting of her hands. Is she nervous because of me? I pause the thought and just take her in… my eyes drink her in from head to toe. She’s wearing a black sundress with red polka-dots on it. It hugs her curves softly and accentuates her bust line. Like a dog, I start to drool.
Jesus, fuck woman. Is she trying to kill me? I know she doesn’t know it, but I’ve wanted to fuck her again and again since the day she let me between her creamy thighs. She’s tempting the beast right now, and soon I’m going to show her just how much.
Brown hair falls in soft curls over her shoulders, the shine of it catches in the lights as she walks toward me. She’s wearing minimal makeup, as she always does, letting her natural beauty show through.
Her green eyes instantly find mine even from across the room and I swear my heart skips a beat when our gazes collide. God, she is beautiful. Does she know how fucking beautiful she is? I doubt it. Bailey isn’t vain. If she knows she’s pretty, she doesn’t show it.
Choosing a table in the back of the restaurant had been for privacy of course, but now I can also enjoy seeing her walk in and through the space. My eyes are glued on the way her hips sway softly with each step she takes, that is until she is a few feet away. Then my gaze travels upwards over the rest of her body, her flat stomach, the swell of her breast, her delicate collarbone, her full oh so kissable lips...
She takes the seat across from me and grins when she spots the tea sitting in her spot. Her smile alone could bring an army of men to their knees.
“Thank you for ordering my drink.”
“If I knew you were going to get here early, I would have gone ahead and ordered our food as well. You must have been just as eager as me to get here.” My lips pull up into a grin.
A pink blush creeps onto her cheeks, confirming my suspicions. She was, in fact, eager to see me. That’s okay, baby, I’m eager to see you too.
“I was just hungry, that’s all,” she denies, smoothing a napkin over her lap.
“Oh, I’m hungry too…” So hungry I could throw her down on the table, lift up her dress and feast on her pretty pink pussy. As if she could hear my thoughts herself, her cheeks turn an even darker shade of red.
“It… I wasn’t eager to see you. This isn’t a date, remember?”
Like I need reminding, Sunflower.
“Are you guys ready to order?” the waitress interrupts, looking straight at me, practically pretending Bailey isn’t here. Bailey’s plump lips flatten into a firm line, her eyes turning murderous. Fuck, she’s sexy when she’s jealous.
“Two orders of spaghetti and meatballs,” I answer her, keeping my eyes on Bailey the entire time. You can see the steam billowing out of her ears. She’s trying really hard not to act out on her jealousy, but I know her too well. I know she wants me all to herself, just like I want her, she just doesn’t want to admit it. That’s okay though, I’ll admit it for the both of us.
She might be able to pull the wool over someone else’s eyes, but never mine. As soon as the blonde takes our menus and walks away, I place my hands down on the table. I try to look at her sternly, but my lips quirk up into a smile involuntarily.
“What?” she
asks in a high pitch voice, the fire in her eyes nothing but a few cracking embers now.
“Cut the crap, Sunflower, I know you were jealous just now, and yesterday as well. I know you want me, and I want you too, more than you can even imagine, so why don’t we give in? Give this a shot?”
“Give in?” she whispers. “Give in how?” she questions a moment later, a little bit louder, her eyebrows raised.
“We’ve been friends for so long, maybe we could be more than friends, maybe friends with benefits,” I suggest with a shrug. It would be the perfect solution to our problem. We can both have our cake and eat it too.
I might not be able to commit to a romantic relationship, but I can certainly commit to this. With this, we can stay best friends, and I’ll still get to have her in my bed, her legs wrapped around me, her chestnut brown hair fanning against the cream sheets.
My cock stirs just thinking about it.
She seems to think on it for a long time, her mouth opening and then closing before she starts to talk again. “Elijah… we can’t. Please, let’s just try and go back to being friends. I don’t want to mess up our friendship any more than I already have. I don’t regret what we did, but if I ever lost you, it would kill me.” The sudden sadness surrounding her has my light and playful mood sinking deep into the ground.
Her gaze drops to her hands. “And yes, I’ll admit that I’m being jealous, and I don’t really understand why. I know I can’t have you, and that we aren’t anything…” She pauses. I’m white knuckling the fuck out of my kneecaps right now. I’m afraid of commitment, yes... it would be hard for me to cross that bridge even for Bailey, but why not at least do this.
I love her. I know it deep down in the pit of my soul, underneath all the insecurities that surround me. I love her, and always will, even if it’s only out of friendship.