Hotter Than Ever (Out of Uniform) (40 page)

Seth’s pulse kicked up a notch, his cock growing even harder beneath Miranda’s palm. She didn’t stroke him. Didn’t cup or caress or move her fingers in the slightest. She just kept her hand over the erection straining against his sweats, her lips parted, her pupils dilated.

“Feel that?” he murmured.

Her gaze slowly met his. She looked almost mesmerized as she nodded.

“That’s what I’ve been walking around with since the moment you moved to town, baby.”

“Seth…” Reluctance crept into her voice. “Stop. Just…stop.”

And then her palm moved. A fraction of an inch. A torturous glide over the hard ridge of his cock.

He groaned softly. “Do that again.”

Her fingers froze. Her expression conveyed shock, as if she truly hadn’t realized what she was doing.

“This is insane,” she mumbled, and then, to his extreme disappointment, she withdrew her hand.

But the sexual awareness zipping back and forth between them refused to dissipate. It thickened the air and made his skin burn with anticipation. Christ, he wanted this woman so badly he couldn’t think straight anymore. Every time he saw her he turned into a sex-crazed caveman whose sole purpose in life was to claim his female.

His gaze focused on her mouth, that sexy mouth he’d been fantasizing about for so long.

“One taste.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice full of gravel.

“W-what?” she stammered.

“Let me have one taste. One kiss.” He brought his hand to her mouth and swept his thumb over her plump bottom lip. The breath she hissed out warmed his fingers. “Please, Miranda.”

Oh Christ, he was actually begging.

Begging
to kiss a woman.

If his entire body wasn’t overcome with pure agony, he might have been disgusted with himself, but at the moment, he couldn’t focus on anything other than Miranda. The intoxicating scent of her, vanilla and roses and something soft and feminine. The way her long, damp hair curled at the ends. The fullness of her breasts beneath her T-shirt.

He stroked her lower lip again, then let out another groan when her tongue came out to taste the pad of his thumb. She looked as surprised as he was by her actions.

But he wasn’t complaining. Hell no. He just capitalized on that tiny sign of surrender by cupping her chin and lowering his head to take possession of her mouth.

The kiss rivaled the storm that raged outside the house—powerful and all-consuming. Her lips were soft, warm, and he could feel them trembling as he rubbed his mouth over hers in a fleeting caress. There it was, his one taste, and it wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. Miranda must have agreed, because she didn’t pull away, didn’t protest when he coaxed her lips open with his tongue and licked his way inside.

She let out the sexiest little moan he’d ever heard when their tongues met. He swallowed the sound and angled his head to deepen the kiss, letting their tongues swirl and explore.

The only contact between them was their fused mouths and his hand resting lightly on her jaw. Her arms didn’t come around his neck. His other hand didn’t explore her sweet curves. Their lower bodies didn’t collide.

And yet it was the most erotic kiss of his entire life.

Disappointment slammed into him when Miranda abruptly tore her mouth away. Her hazel eyes shone with arousal and uncertainty, and she was breathing hard, her chest heaving.

“There,” she said. “You got your taste.”

He knew she was trying to sound casual, but her wobbly voice betrayed her.

“And you got yours,” he answered, lifting his eyebrows in challenge. “So let’s hear it.”

To her credit, she met his gaze head-on. “Hear what?”

“Your speech about how you didn’t feel anything, the kiss was no big deal, it doesn’t change your mind about going to bed with me, et cetera, et cetera.”

Miranda sighed. “I’m many things, Seth, but I’m not a liar. I
did
feel something, and trust me that kiss
was
a big deal. It was a huge deal, actually.”

She might as well have pulled out a two-by-four and smashed him in the gut, that was how shocked he was by her frank admission. Pure triumph soared through him—only to fizzle out like a wet candle when Miranda kept going.

“But you’re right. It doesn’t change my mind about going to bed with you.” Before he could respond, she spun around and grabbed hold of the doorknob.

“Miranda.”

She went still. “What?” she asked without turning.

“What the hell is it going to take for you to give in to this?” The echo of defeat in his voice surprised him as much as the next question he posed. “What do I have to do to win you over?”

He was her best friend…until he became her fantasy.

More Than Friends

© 2013 Jess Dee

Lucy Lawson’s got it bad. Bad as in stunned speechless by the situation she’s in, by the feelings sitting on her chest, ready to explode. She’s in love…with her best friend.

Problem is, telling Sebastian Blackford could destroy the best thing in her life, but the longer she keeps her feelings under wraps, the stronger the need to spill her secret.

The last thing Seb suspects is that his best mate is madly, wildly in love with him, or that he’s the star of her seriously dirty fantasies. Worse, he’s just started seeing someone he’d like to see again—and Lucy knows it.

So why does her confession hit him like a runaway train? And why can’t he get her explicit description of her fantasies out of his mind? They’ve never been more than friends, but now that he knows how Lucy feels, everything is out of whack.

Seb figures it’s up to him to get their relationship back on track. He’ll do it too, just as soon as he establishes which track is the right one.

Warning:
After reading this, you may just be tempted to jump your best friend. It’s recommended you keep your partner on speed dial or a toy with fresh batteries on standby.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
More Than Friends:

“Okay, if you space out on me one more time, I’m going to start thinking it’s personal.”

Lucy blinked and brought her attention back to the man sitting opposite her. Not that she’d ever lost her focus. Nope, her attention had been on him the whole time. Maybe just not on what he’d been saying.

“Loo, that’s about the tenth time you’ve zoned out. You haven’t heard a word I’ve said in the last five minutes. You gonna tell me what’s going on?” He set his tea down on the table.

She shook her head as she looked at his cup. “You realize you are the only man in Sydney, maybe in the world, who drinks Earl Grey?” The cup seemed small and dainty beside his strong, tanned hand.

He shrugged. “I like it, as you well know. Now forget about the tea and tell me what’s bothering you.”

Her gaze drifted from his teacup to his chest, and she admired the way his T-shirt sat snugly across his shoulders. How was it possible she’d never appreciated the broadness of those shoulders? Had his hair been so long it had hidden their extraordinary proportions?

She sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me if I did tell you.”

Seb shot her a strange look. “When have I ever not believed something you’ve said?” He took a chip from their shared plate, dipped it into tomato sauce and popped it in his mouth. Then he repeated the process, only this time he popped the chip in Lucy’s mouth.

It was all she could do not to close her lips around his fingers and trap them there. But then trapping fingers, a chip and a dollop of tomato sauce in her mouth was hardly sexy, now was it?

She chewed thoughtfully and swallowed, desperate to open up with the truth and admit her feelings, yet paralyzed by the prospect. For the first time ever, she had trouble voicing her thoughts to Seb.

“You know, I’m a pretty good listener.”

She smiled, trying to keep the mood light while her insides were so heavy. “Then why do you always complain that I never stop talking?”

He grinned. “Maybe because you never stop talking.”

“I’m not talking now,” she pointed out.

“Which leads me to believe there is something very wrong, ergo my willingness to listen.” He dipped another chip and offered it to her.

She shook her head. Her stomach was queasy and trembling, and though she and Seb always shared a plate of chips after seeing a movie together, she suspected fried food would do no good whatsoever. “I’m full.”

“Full of shit, maybe. C’mon, Lucy-Loo. Out with it. What’s bothering you? You fidgeted the whole way through the movie and haven’t been able to hold a simple conversation since it ended.” He gestured to the people sitting around them, enjoying a meal or a drink in the trendy little café in Newtown. “Everyone else here is chatting away. The only one not talking is you.”

“Okay, so you talk to me. Tell me how your hot date went the other night.”

The strange look was back on his face. “I spent the last five minutes telling you about it.”

She stared at him, dismayed. “You did?”

Seb nodded. “I did.”

Lucy gave him an apologetic look, staring into his eyes, willing him to forgive her.

Seb said something, but Lucy missed it, mostly because staring into his blue eyes dazzled her senses and once again took her breath away. A feverish flush seeped into her skin, heating her flesh. Just like that, Lucy was lost in a haze of desire, lost in the realization that her body was responding to Seb’s proximity. Being this close to him made her heart pound and her pussy clench. She wanted him fiercely. In a way she’d never desired another man. In a way she’d never desired a friend. In a way she had no place desiring a friend.

She had to say something, had to tell him how she felt. She couldn’t exist like this anymore, couldn’t go on living this way with him. Forever friends, nothing more.

“Lucy!” His sharp exclamation snapped her back to attention.

“I love you, Seb.” It was out before she had a chance to think twice.

“I love you too, babe, but if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m taking you to the closest medical center to have you checked out.”

“No, I mean
I love you
. Like, really, love you.”

He grinned his beautiful grin. “So you tell me every time you get trashed on red wine. You love me and you think I’m the bestest friend in the whole widest world.” He tapped her half-empty wineglass. “Although you surprise me tonight. You haven’t even had one glass. Usually you have to have three or four before you start getting this sentimental.”

She bit her lower lip, sucking it into her mouth before releasing it. “I’m not drunk.”

His grin told her how much he believed her.

“I’m not,” she said again. “Truth is, I’m stone-cold sober. And the reason I haven’t been concentrating is because I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you how I feel.”

Seb’s smile began to fade, and his blue eyes widened as he stared at her.

“It’s changed, Seb. Everything’s changed. I’ve changed. My feelings for you have changed.” She took a deep, fortifying breath and the words tumbled out. “Y-you’re not just my friend anymore. You’re…more. I dunno what happened. And I dunno how I never felt this way before, but I…I…” She pressed her hand to her chest. “I have all these feelings for you, just sitting here, pressing on my heart, and I can’t ignore them. Can’t pretend they’re not there or they’re not real.”

Sebastian’s jaw dropped open.

Now that the words had started, she couldn’t hold them back. Didn’t want to. This was Seb she spoke to, and she could tell him anything. Had always been able to, and now was no different—even though everything was different.

“I dream about you at night. And at work, when I’m not sleeping. Dirty dreams. Filthy, really. Dreams a girl shouldn’t dream about her friend, but there you have it. And when I see you, I wish, just wish, the dreams were real. I wish you’d kiss me the way you do in my imagination. Wish you’d tear my clothes off and do filthy things to me. I wish,
wish
that you felt for me what I feel for you, and we weren’t sitting here at this very moment, drinking red wine and Earl Grey tea.”

Lucy paused to draw breath, her heart beating frantically, her cheeks burning.

Seb just gaped at her.

“I lay in the bath earlier, thinking about you. Fantasizing about you. I touched myself, wishing it was your hand. Couldn’t stop touching, until…until…” Lucy closed her eyes, mortified that she was voicing all of this, yet unable to stop. After months of keeping it to herself, the confession felt liberating. “I came thinking about you. And it wasn’t the first time. But the thing is, I don’t want to just fantasize anymore. Don’t want to just dream about you. I don’t just want to be your friend. Can’t be your friend, ’cause what I feel for you goes way beyond friendship. I’m like, wildly, crazily in love with you.”

“Lucy…” Seb’s voice sounded hoarse, scratchy. He looked dazed. “Geez, I don’t know what to say.” He drew a shaky hand over his shaved head.

Her breath caught in her diaphragm and she hiccupped. “Say you feel the same way. Or at the very least, tell me there’s a chance you could feel this way.”