I groan out loud, wondering if Buzz Lightgirth is charged or if the battery is drained from excessive use this week. Taking the edge off before Cruz comes over tonight is probably the best idea I have had all day. Maybe it will keep me just sane enough to keep from doing something stupid, like jumping his bones before we discuss what the hell is going on between us.
No, I shouldn’t do that. I shake off the idea.
It’s a conversation that’s overdue at this point. The tension between us has been building for years and it’s to the point that I don’t think either of us can avoid it any longer. Big, life-changing conversations are never easy, but this one has me unraveling from the inside out. I grumble to myself in Spanish. It’s a habit I’ve gotten into when I’m alone to help me learn. The idea of being able to surprise Cruz and be able to speak in full sentences has been pushing me to practice more lately.
My phone vibrates on the coffee table next to me and I set my laptop aside. The inventory spreadsheet forBuns & Rosesis open, but I’ve barely touched it, trapped in my head overanalyzing what I’ll say tonight when Cruz comes over after the team plane lands.
Cruz:
We should be on the ground in 30 minutes.
What do you want me to pick up for dinner?
Delilah:
You choose. Decision fatigue is real. I have been staring at my inventory for so long it’s gone all haywire. It’s like my brain is blurry.
Cruz:
I’ll be there soon and promise to take
your mind off numbers.
When he says that, why do I automatically jump to dirty thoughts? God, I’m in so much trouble, my willpower to resist this pull between us is nonexistent. It’s a dangerous position to be in. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My best friend. A constant positive force in my life. Why does that make me even hotter? I pull my shirt from my chest, fanning myself with it. The knowledge that I could quickly take care of this with a quick trip to my toy box nags at the back of my mind.
My feet are moving, carrying me to my nightstand before I even accept that I’ve made the decision. I freeze when my fingers wrap around the knob. I’m really about to do this, again? The drawer squeaks as I pull it open like it’s taunting me.
Eyes roaming over my modest collection I grab Buzz and toss him on the bed leaving the lube in the drawer. It’s completely unnecessary because I’m already dripping from the buildup my mind created.Traitor.
Tearing the duvet down and tossing the decorative pillows to the side I plunk my ass down on the bed and lay back, my fist wrapping around the purple vibrator. Maybe if I just wait it out this feeling will fade.
Who the fuck am I kidding my nipples are tight and achy against the fabric of my oversized crop top.
My free hand slides up my stomach, cupping my breast and brushing over the hard tip of my nipple. I bite down on my lip to stop the groan working its way up my throat, but I’m too far gone. There’s no stopping the pulsing between my legs which is getting worse the longer I deny myself. Giving in I sag into the mattress when my thumb and pointer finger roll the stiff peak as I bring the toy in my other hand to life with the click of a button.
Slipping it under the waistband of my terry cloth shorts I let it drag over my swollen lips a few times before I get frustrated and shove the bottoms that are only getting in my way down my legs, kicking them free from my feet. I’m making a mess but that’s a problem for future Lilah, because right now I can’t see beyond the need that’s taken over my body for my best friend. What the hell is wrong with me?
My forearm drops to my face, covering my eyes as I circle the entrance of my pussy with the humming toy. Jesus, there’s not even a hint of resistance when I press it inside my soaked pussy. I’ve never been this turned on by just the thought of someone, but every single time I fantasize about Cruz my body responds this way.
I wish I could say that it’s just a physical release, triggered by the fact that he’s got the hottest body I’ve ever laid eyes on. Toned muscles covered in flawless tan skin, and those dark curls that I’d give anything to sink my fingers into right now and hold on to while I ride his face. Even as the filthy image of his fingers digging into my back side as I hover over his face, soaking his as he devours me, fills my mind there’s something else there too.
My body responds like this for him, even when he’s not actually here because he’s my person. Cruz makes me feel cherished in a way I’ve never experienced before, he always has. No one has ever given me the same sense of security. He’s been a steadfast force in my life for years.
The sound that leaves my body when I circle my clit with my fingers is unhinged. I feel feral for my best friend, out of control with need as my back arches off the bed seeking more. More pressure from my fingers on my clit, just fucking more everything. More Cruz. That realization has my whole body shaking as my spine snaps tight and I come, his name echoing through my bedroom.
A black haze clouds the edges of my vision as my lungs work overtime, still recovering from the powerful release. I switch off the vibrator as the weight of what I just did settles over me like a heavy blanket. Things have changed, there’s no way around it, but the odds against us feel impossibly high.
What if we screw it all up? I’m not sure what I would do if I lost him.
Since the night of the Bandit’s Gala, maybe even before, but definitely after that night, there was no denying that my feelings for him were not-so-platonic. The way he was so attentive and kind—his eyes never left me, and he doted on me all night, making sure I felt beautiful and desired, without crossing the line our friendship had drawn in the sand.
I bury my face in my pillow, almost missing the sound of my phone on the night stand where I abandoned it earlier.
Cruz:
Sabor it is. A double order of asado
negro and pork arepas to-go.
