The Best Friend (25 page)

His heart rate accelerated.

Adjusting her calves and feet beneath her, she sat up and twisted her body to face his. She pushed her hands into his hair, tugging on the rubber band he used to restrain it. She freed it, letting the soft, thick strands drift freely through her fingers. She’d never done that with a man. It was odd, and also erotic.

Her face was only inches from his. His nostrils flared and his breath became erratic and ragged, while his pupils dilated.

She had no idea she was going to do this. She didn’t even really realize she
wanted
to do it. But she knew now that she really did. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to see his expression soften with her. And for him to engage her, and experience all of the softness she could offer to replace the harshness he now knew and lived his life in.

When his shirt was completely undone down the front, she moved a hand down his chest. The backs of her knuckles slid along the skin of his chest, and down the rippled muscles of his abdomen. His stomach quivered in response. His breath again hitched when she opened the shirt. His chest was sculpted and hairy. She touched it, allowing her palms to feel him, and the hair, gritty under her hand.

She shifted forward and onto his lap, straddling him, with her legs bent back on either side of his lap.

He finally had to turn his head from the formerly scintillating Christmas tree so he could look into her eyes. Her heart stopped and skipped a beat. His gaze was intense and demanding, but also intimidating. She gulped down her nerves and virtual fear. He was too much.

She could feel him under her bottom, getting hard and reacting to her. Her body suddenly screamed its response. Blood rushed through her, and she felt like her body literally opened up for him. She started to slide his shirt off, when he finally responded.

“Don’t.” The tone was unnecessarily harsh. And commanding. She lifted her eyes to his, and found his jaw tight and thrust forward in steely determination.

She lifted her hands off his shoulder in surrender. Cupping his face, her hand touched his beard. It was prickly, yet soft and kind of feathery. She lowered her head finally and touched his lips with hers, barely applying  any pressure with her lips on his. As she did, her entire body reacted as though he suddenly found her G-spot. Her body responded by swelling and expanding in anticipation of him and their practically nothing kiss. She felt him underneath her as hard and scalding as a hot ember of coal. She ground herself into him. Gasping at the sensations that suddenly rocked from her crotch all the way up into her gut, it became so intense, it was almost uncomfortable for her.

She opened her mouth and stuck her tongue into his. It was not soft or slow. She became aroused, and thought if she wiggled around enough, between his tongue stroking her and his dick hardening under her, she just might come.

He finally engaged and lifted his arm to embrace her back, with his hand cinching at her waist. Squeezing it tightly, as if anchoring her, he shifted his hips up into hers. His tongue met hers in wet, sliding ecstasy as he caressed her mouth and tongue with his.

She nearly shouted out with glee. It was
so
good. It had been awhile, years maybe, since she could get so turned on from simply kissing a man. Her last relationship had been a short-lived, casual affair that only lasted five months with a neighbor’s son. It ended quite amicably and with no ill will, since they simply didn’t have much of a sexual connection. They had a nice time together, and often hung out just because it was better than being alone. But they only had sex every third or fourth time they were together, simply because it didn’t seem to matter to either one if they did or not.

Never did sex feel like this. Hot. Smoldering. Her whole body was engaged, although only their tongues actually touched. She wanted him, and it made her heart feel like singing. It had been a long, monotonous while since she really wanted a man like this.

She moaned out loud as his tongue lapped at her lips, and caressed the inside of her mouth. She ran her hand along his chest, letting her fingertips trail over the bare skin, and down lower, over his stomach. His body tensed and reacted. Her other hand clung to his shoulder, just above his amputation; and she could feel his muscles contracting. He reacted to her. And had since the day in the grocery store. No, long before that, since they were barely teens.

She shut her eyes when his body’s warmth filled every one of her nerve endings. As his wet mouth surrounded hers, she groaned at the lightning bolt of sensations now stabbing her nether regions. But she had to be sure about this. To do this with him, and to him, she had to be sure. It wasn’t fair otherwise. But, how could it feel so incredible if she wasn’t really into him? Maybe she wasn’t before, but apparently, sometime during the last few months, she developed a kind of chemistry with him that was, quite literally, shocking to her senses. She really didn’t know she felt that way, let alone, so intensely that way. But she did. Her body felt like it was on fire. She felt like she was where she was supposed to be.

Or was she just avoiding loneliness on Christmas?

She drew back suddenly and they found each other, both staring at each other in the warm, cozy lights of the Christmas tree. It was as romantic as candlelight. It was pretty and soft, things that Tony was not. He was harsh and rude. And hot and bothered. Rough and tough. He was also adamantly unwilling to let her see him as anything beyond that. He didn’t want her pity, concern, understanding or sympathy. She was pretty sure that’s what his attitude was all about from the start.

The thing was, of course he got those things from her. She wasn’t a monster. His damn arm was missing. As if she could overlook it and not care. As if she could accept it as being just fine. It wasn’t fine. But not in the way Tony thought. It wasn’t fine because it was so goddamned awful that it happened to him. It was so unfair. And her heart twisted and contorted with pain to try to understand what it must feel like. How it had to change his life. How it altered his personality.

But that didn’t prevent her from seeing him as a valid, fascinating, attractive, hot man. She saw him as all that. Not as the project or charity case that he thought she did. No. There was no room for that in how she felt about Tony. She was clear of that one fact.

Even if he wasn’t.

But he refused to let her care about him. He did not want her sympathy and care about him not having an arm. He would not soften his demeanor, or his feelings, not even in the way he spoke to her, just because they engaged in sex. She had to know that before having sex, and to be sure she could handle Tony’s reaction to something that was rife and full of emotions. She was already very much engaged with her emotions, and most of them were far more than just a physical reaction to him.

His gaze didn’t flicker, and his eyes held hers…. waiting. His brown eyes were dark, deep and emotionless while he anticipated her next move. But his intense look was hard and unforgiving. She drew in a breath that filled her lungs and made her head dizzy. Was she ready for something with Tony?

He was already waiting for her to reject him.

Somehow, she was instantly sure of that. His blank look, and almost bored expression were deceptive. Inside, his heart was jumping. She could feel it against her hand. He wanted her, and he wanted her to want him. And the only way she knew it was from his body’s reaction to her touch and presence. He probably thought she stopped because of
the amputation.
But that was about last on her top ten list of concerns. She mainly worried that
he
would hurt
her.
But as sure as she knew her own name, she knew he wouldn’t understand that. He would never believe that.

He would believe it, however, if she had sex with him. He had to finally believe she didn’t see him as Will’s old friend. Or even
her
old friend. She almost longed for the simple days when she did think of him that way. At least then, he wasn’t the source of all this confusion, which now boiled in her chest.

She licked her lips and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Lifting her hands off his chest to toy with the collar of his white shirt, she lowered her gaze and smoothed her hands along the tops of his shoulders. She was brushing out the wrinkles until her hands dipped off his shoulders. On one side, her hand kept sliding down his arm, now encircling her waist. The other dropped off to nothing, but she slid her hand down along that side too. She tilted her eyeballs up under her eyelids just enough to see him shutting his eyes while his face contorted. In horror. He was shocked that she was touching his side. His fingers dug into her waist and he had an amazingly strong grip. Enough that she felt like he could one-handedly squeeze her in half.

“Don’t touch me there,” he finally said through gritted teeth.

“I’m not. I’m touching your shirt. But I want to touch
you
.”

His eyes popped back open before he grimaced. She finally found her voice and her bravado. She needed both to get through this with Tony. This meant having sex with him and then continuing to see him afterwards. If she did it, which she knew now she really wanted to do, then they weren’t having sex only once. They were doing it as a means of exploration, with the possibility of a relationship. He just didn’t know it yet. Since he probably wouldn’t believe it anyway, there was no point in even trying to explain it to him.

She waited a moment before staring into his eyes and raising an eyebrow as if to challenge him. She tipped her head closer to his, so their noses were touching, and their eyes nearly crossed, looking at each other. “Unless you don’t want me to touch you. Do you want me to stop, Tony? Is that what you want?” Her tone was soft, but insistent.

His breath hitched and increased, and his nostrils flared. She leaned back finally, and waited, doubtful he would toss her off his lap. He was just as hard as she felt turned on. There was no denying that, no matter how much Tony might have feared it.

And no matter how hard he found it to be vulnerable, he had to be for her. At least for this. Sex. Having always had a physical thing for her, there was no way he intended to turn her down.

“Is it?” she whispered.

He shook his head finally, with his jaw clenched tight. “No, it’s not what I want.”

“Because you want me?”

He nearly growled at her, “You know I do, and I always have.”

“No. I didn’t know that. Not until recently. So, no, I didn’t know that, Tony.”

She tilted her head to the side and touched his lips again, this time soft and gentle. But she nearly inhaled him. Her lips closed as she touched them to his. He gasped and suppressed a groan, which she clearly heard as his fingers closed again around her waist.

She leaned back, still straddling his lap, before releasing him. She slid her hands to the bottom of her shirt and slowly brought it up over her stomach, her chest, and her shoulders until she lifted it overhead and threw it down on the floor.

His eyes widened minimally. Tony never offered much. There were no words of tender love or how much he adored her features. She had to rely on the subtle, small signs and let them do the speaking for him. He still had to convince her he did indeed like her and want her.

Her black bra was strapless to fit under the ridiculous bridesmaid dress. Lace covered it, but her nipples peeked through, now pointed and hard from the cool air, as well as the nearly physical grasp of Tony’s gaze on her. He suddenly leaned forward and his mouth fell on her left breast. Hot moistness touched her skin through the lace. The trunk of her body jerked in a shocked response. His tongue touched the tip of her nipple through the material, flicking up and then down. She rocked herself against him in a near mindless response. His arm around her held her and kept her from nearly falling backwards. She should have wanted to take it slowly, and in their own time. To touch and kiss and lick all the different areas of erotic interest to each other. But she didn’t take it slowly at all. She wanted him now. Here. Right this instant. She didn’t usually go for quickies. Never. No. She was usually agonizingly slow and prolonged. Preferring the leisurely build-up and anticipation. Half the time, she enjoyed all the foreplay more than the actual sex.

But not this time.

She wanted to do it now. Right now. She wanted him inside her. She thought she might simply come while dry humping him with his mouth only touching her through her bra.

No.
She was not twenty anymore, and unable to control her damn self.

She grabbed the edge of her bra and simply tugged it down her waist, shoving it out of the way. Tony drew back an inch with surprise at her heated, nearly angry, struggle with the bra. She laced her fingers into his hair, and pulled him toward her. His lips encircled her, wet and sucking, grasping onto the end of her engorged, hard, nearly pulsating nipple. His tongue touched the end of it again, but this time, it was bare. He twirled his tongue over it, and up and down, until sinking his teeth gently around it and sucking. He sucked until she began furiously pushing down on his erection and nearly becoming frantic and screaming. She physically pushed her other breast toward him, hoping to receive the same mind-numbing, erotic treatment.

Her fingers abandoned his hair and went straight down to the button and zipper on his black tuxedo pants. She was so full of nervous, excited adrenaline, her fingers failed to cooperate. They were trembling and fumbling clumsily with his pants. She nearly screeched her annoyance. Finally, the button gave and she managed to undo his zipper with a raspy sigh. Her gut quivered in response and excitement, exposing him and releasing his pants,
for her
.

His teeth and tongue pulled, tugged, licked and caressed her, until her hands eventually quit moving. Then, every thought, feeling and ounce of awareness inside her simply stopped. She was no longer a thinking, functioning woman. She was simply a mess of hormones and sensations that started deep down in her gut somewhere. She was still being pulled and manipulated by his mouth simply being on her breast. He was barely doing anything else. It was hardly more than making out, but suddenly, she was clutching his head against her, and her hands tangled in his hair as she groaned and came without a conscious thought that she even was.