“One kiss,” I whisper. “For research.”
Because friends help friends.
My mouth hovers over hers. I’ve kissed too many lips to count; one more pair won’t make a difference. It’s just a kiss.
Just one… that we are about to share… any second now.
Move your fucking face, Olly.
But I can’t. I’m stuck, shocked this is happening and terrified that my pent-up desire will spill out of my mouth and into hers, revealing my darkest secrets and wildest fantasies—all starring her.
Lacey’s mouth presses to mine, snapping me out of my thoughts. Her touch is soft and delicate, lightly brushing from one corner of my mouth to the next. Our lips barely touch, yet a current of electricity zaps my nerve endings, setting me alight from the inside.
Lacey pulls back, taking all my oxygen with her.
“How was that?” she asks.
I can’t find my voice or feel my toes.
She cringes, sinking into herself and pulling away from me. “That bad?”
Bad… My insides quake like an addict after one hit, desperate for another, never wanting to stop.
It was terrible, but not in the way she meant. “It was fine.”
“Fine.” She looks defeated and frustrated. The need to comfort and protect her is ingrained in my DNA, but right now, I cannot find the right words to repair her confidence without destroying our friendship.
She throws her arms up in the air. “Fine isn’t good enough.”
Climbing onto her knees beside me, she cups my cheeks and plants her lips on mine again.
This isn’t a soft, hesitant brush like before. Lacey’s lips mold to mine, hard and insistent, her soft, eager tongue brushing the seam between.
I suck in a surprised gasp, and her tongue slips inside. The rational side of my brain tells me to sit still and let her practice, but instinct and the sweet promise of bad decisions take over.
I grip her waist, leaning into the kiss as she begins to pull away.
I follow, wanting more, needing her flat on her back, my aching cock pressed to her heat, building sweet friction until she’s panting and soaked beneath me.
She pulls away with a gasp and lets out a shaky breath before licking her lips, tasting me. “How was that?”
My knuckles whiten around a cushion. I’m right on edge, balls tight, cock hard, and ready to blow, but she looks at me like the ever-diligent student wondering about her grade.
She doesn’t look flustered or like her insides are a swirling mess.
“Good.” I clear my throat and reach for my drink. “It was good.”
I gulp the rest of my beer until the bottle is empty, then open hers and take another huge swallow.
“Are you sure? I thought I might have been too eager with my tongue.”
I almost choke, an image of that eager tongue on my cock hitting me. “Right amount of tongue. You’ll be fine.”
“Great. I should probably get going. I need a decent night’s sleep if I’m going to use all your tips on the professor.” She bounces to her feet, looking around for her bag.
My insides twist and turn in on themselves, my chest heavy with each painful breath. How can she act like her entire world didn’t just shift on its axis?
Didn’t she feel anything?
