“Yes. I’m trying not to be judgmental, but they’re tacky. I feel like it’s dollar store DIY and I’m not using that as an insult, though I totally know it sounds like one. I’m just saying that the ones I’ve seenlookcheap, and that’s just not what we’re going for.” I look up at Keno. I don’t even know what I’m aiming for anymore. “Right?”
He shrugs, shaking his head. “I don’t know what we’re going for.”
“My sister would be good at this,” I mutter.
Keno sighs. “Have you called her?”
“No. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring her up.”
He leaves the chair he loves to curl up in and instead curls up against my side. I grin, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.
“I’m sorry you haven’t heard from her,” he says.
“It’s fine. I didn’t mean to bring her up,” I repeat.
“I know, but you always mention her. It’s natural to bring her up in this conversation. I just wish things were different because I think you’d enjoy her being involved in this.”
I click my phone screen off and set it down. Grabbing Keno’s tablet, I set it on top of my phone. Then I pull him onto my lap. His cheeks flush right away, which is turning into one of my absolute favorite things about him.
“Want to get off?” he asks, his hands resting on my sides.
I almost say no, but really, I could totally get off. That’s definitely fine. However, that’s not why I brought him close like this. I frame his face so he’s looking into my eyes. “I’m enjoying planning our wedding withyou, Keno. Don’t doubt that. There’s no one I’d rather share this frustration with than you. Not even my sister.”
He sighs.
I pull his face down so I can press my mouth to his. We’ve mastered making out, I’m pretty sure. It only took us a few days to get over the strangeness of kissing my best friend and having his tongue in my mouth.
Now it’s becoming one of my favorite pastimes. I love the taste of him. I love how he kisses me. How he slowly gets more into it. The way his tongue moves with mine, both dominantly but also backing off and wanting me to take control.
That feels a lot like our relationship in general. Keno likes to take the lead, except when he’s done with leading. I think he’s learning that he really likes to be the one led. At least by me.
“You sure you don’t want an orgasm?” he asks into my mouth.
I grin. “If you want to touch me, then touch me. You don’t need to ask.”
“I don’t?”
“No. Touch me anytime you want to.”
Keno grips the front of my shirt and hauls me sideways, so we both fall to our sides on the couch. I laugh while we kiss. Our legs are tangled, hitting the table and the shit on the table as we try to arrange ourselves on the couch.
It’s one of those rare days I’m wearing a shirt, so Keno has to push it out of his way to get to my stomach. He doesn’t go down my pants right away. His hands glide over my skin, making my muscles jump and my skin heat.
“You’re so smooth,” Keno says, sliding his hand up to my chest. His thumb moves over my nipple a few times. I can feel those flicks like they’re against my dick.
“So are you,” I answer, trying to keep my hands still on his hips. Keeping his pelvis to mine so he can feel what he’s doing to me as much as I can feel how it’s turning him on, too.
Keno’s getting braver. The more pleasure he takes from us, the more confident he gets. It’s like the voice in his head thatkept questioning whether we were going to enjoy touching a dude is slowly being silenced and he’s finding his footing.
It’s addictive.
His hands on me are better than I imagined. Now I can admit I was nervous I might not be as into it as I promised him we’d be. His hands are bigger, stronger than any woman who’s touched me. His body is harder and bulkier than any woman I’ve been with. Keno’s voice is deeper. The sounds he makes are deeper.
And of course, more notably, he has a cock as opposed to a pussy.
These thingsdidworry me. I just didn’t want him to know that because he was already concerned. I’m sure that was the reason he had to think about it for several days. One of us needed to be confident.
I’m relieved I enjoy his touch more than I’ve enjoyed anyone else’s. It makes me wonder if I’ve subconsciously been far more into him than I realized. That’s possible, isn’t it? There’s a very real chance I’ve been in love with my best friend this entire time.
