“We should,” I agree reluctantly.
He rolls off me and onto his side, cursing under his breath. I can see, blurry at first, then very,veryclear, the outline of the erection hiding in his pants. He pulls the blanket over our laps with a heavy sigh. I groan in frustration. Being responsible fucking sucks.
“What if we didn’t touch each other,” he suggests. I pick up what he’s putting down. “That doesn’t count, right?”
I shake my head. “That definitely doesn’t count.”
Both of us fiddle beneath the blanket, moving in sync the way we agree on everything else. I slide my fingers into my panties and find I’m already wet. How could I not be after coming so close to what I’ve been imagining while touching myself all those other times?
My head lies on his arm, my hand cupping his cheek to keep him looking at me. I stare into his eyes, seeing his shoulder move but never looking down. It’s intimate this way, knowing what is going on without seeing it. Imagining what he’s doing to himself while I touch myself to the idea of it all.
I’m the first to make a sound—an embarrassed whimper of pleasure.
“You don’t have to be quiet,” he whispers. “I love the way you sound.”
He’s so fucking sexy. “Shut up.”
A conniving grin spreads across his gorgeous face, his arm still moving. “Then kiss me.” I do.
My pussy tenses around my fingers. I slide them out and move them to my clit, shuddering with the intensity of the stimulation.How am I this close already?
Our breaths grow heavy. I could reach over and touch him, take him to the edge. Instead, it’s just me, getting myself off while he watches.
“Are you close?” he asks in a breathy voice.
“Yes. I’m . . . I’m . . .” I can’t talk when it hits me.
He catches my lips, and I lose it, moaning against him while I come. After a few seconds, he does the same, breaking our kiss just long enough for me to hear him make the most delectable sound I’ve heard in my life.
We lie in the aftermath, silent except for our slowly tapering breaths. If I’m truly awake and not dreaming, it doesn’t last muchlonger. I fade into sleep, wondering howthatwill go over in the morning.
Seventeen
Liem
Weak light spills through the blinds, rain tapping loudly against the windows. It’s dim yet blue. I can’t tell what time it is or where I am. I blink, my vision clearing to see the coffee table and TV of the living room, but when I try to move, I’m stuck. Bri lies next to me, taking up most of the space on the wide cushions, wedging me into the few inches left. We fell asleep here?
A wine headache nags, but the memories remain clear. I kissed Bri. A lot. What was I thinking?
Apparently, I wasn’t thinking at all.
She spent who knows how long planning a night to make me happy. Every little detail she noticed over the past few weeks. Seeing the joy my comfort brought her made me realize she is more than my safe space. She is my happy place. We could be sitting in the cold winter rain and I’d still feel warm with her next to me. Then, in athoughtless moment, I kissed her.
It felt natural for the moments I wasn’t thinking. She was an extension of my unspoken feelings, her lips mine, her tongue a sweet taste of what could be.
I try to free myself from the small space without waking her. When I climb over, one hand either side of her, my body hovering over hers, I remember something else.
Then I remember it all. We did much more than kiss.
The last time I reacted so naturally to someone, it ended up being my first time with Natalie. My first time with anyone, technically.
Had we not been drunk, would I have slept with her? Would she have wanted to sleep with me? Or does she truly see me as a friend, willing to write off sex on the couch as easily as a kiss at the movies?
I go back to my wedge, not wanting her to wake up with me on top of her again while also not wanting to leave her side. Hopefully she won’t remember.
The annoying buzz of a phone sounds against the coffee table, making her stir. The sound continues past the length for a call. It must be an alarm.
“Bri?” I whisper.
