Chapter 14
14
RAINN
How is this real? Mac wants me.
But he’s also straight. Maybe curious. Am I really going to risk our friendship? The blanket wall between us seems ridiculous. Something from our childhood. But we’re not fifteen anymore. Mac is a grown man. Able to make his own decisions. Who am I to question his choices?
“You’re thinking too hard over there.” His dark eyes watch me, making it difficult to focus.
“We need rules,” I say again, not sure if my words are for him or my dick. “No touching each other below the waist. No breeching”—he chokes and my face heats up—“the wall, jackass.” I mutter that last word, and he laughs. We’re both nervous as hell. This is a terrible idea. But when will I get this chance again? Mac wants to kiss me? Touch me? More.
I cover my face with my hands. Get it together, Rainn . The ring on my finger catches my attention. Mac is my husband. We’re married. But that’s why this is such a bad idea. We can’t have sex. We’re filing for an annulment.
“Strip.”
“What?” My gaze shoots to Mac.
“Obviously, I have to take charge. We already agreed to do this. Why are you talking yourself out of it?”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” Which is a damn lie, and we both know it.
He snorts. Once. Then his gaze drops to the quilt and a pink flush rises from his neck to his face. “I want to see you naked.”
Fuck. My body is definitely on board. How am I going to survive this night? “The rules?—”
“Looking isn’t against the rules, Rainn. Neither is watching.” His voice goes lower. “We agreed.” A note of insecurity seeps into his words. “Unless you changed your mind.”
“No. I just…don’t want to fuck this up.”
He grins, and it’s so Mac. The pressure in my chest eases. “Then stop stalling and take off your hecking clothes.”
I ignore my brain. Honestly, what has it done for me lately? Just got me into more trouble. And pull off my T-shirt. Mac’s eyes drop to my chest. We’ve seen each other shirtless many times over the last twenty years, as well as naked. This is different. I’ve never seen that hungry look in his eyes. Except for our wedding night. But Mac was drunk.
And now he’s not.
“Don’t stop there.” His gaze shifts to mine. “Because the Rainn I know isn’t this shy.”
My dick throbs painfully. But I ignore it. “Your turn.”
The yellow glow from the lamp catches on the hard muscles of his body as he strips his shirt off. God, he’s gorgeous. “Touching is allowed?” I ask breathlessly.
“You made the rules.” His voice is soft and full of holes to fall into. I still hesitate. My mind screams forbidden and mistake. What if I get it wrong? I’m paralyzed by the thought. “Jesus, Rainn,” he huffs out as he grabs my hand and places it flat on his sternum. Specifically, the manubrium, since the sternum is divided into three parts. And that doesn’t matter right now because Mac, my best friend for my entire life and the straight man I’ve lusted over for the last ten years, wants me. And somehow, I’m fucking this up.
His heart is pounding faster than the average sixty-one beats per minute for a young adult male. Maybe triple that. He chews on the inside of his cheek, his eyes searching my face. He’s nervous. I brush my thumb over his collarbone. A tiny movement to show I’m into this. He stops abusing his cheek, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Do I have to do all the work?”
Before I can respond, he moves my hand to his chest. Over his right pectoralis major. The muscle is firm, with a scattering of silky chest hair. I feel greedy, wanting more. I want to bury my face in his chest. Lick the sweat from his skin. Inhale under his arms, where the dark hair peeks out.
He moves my hand, brushing my fingers lightly over the hard peak of his nipple, and my logical brain shuts down. He does it again, pleasuring himself with my hand, and fuck, that’s so goddamn hot. His soft pants clash with the uncertainty in his eyes. I watch his face as I take control, pinching the hard nub and rolling it between my fingers. He gasps, throwing his head back. “Please, Rainn.”
I do it again, wanting to use my mouth instead. I move to his left nipple. His eyes shut and his breaths come out in short, quick pants as he clenches the sheets and his legs fall open.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a second as I argue with my brain. It’s not an invitation. It’s not. We agreed on the rules.
Is he resisting the urge to touch himself?
“You’re so fucking sexy, Mac. All spread out for me.”
Braver now, I trail my hand down to his navel, brush my thumb lightly over the rim, and then press in. It’s not the hole I want, but hopefully, he gets the message because this is killing me. I follow the line of hair to the top of his sleep shorts and press my hand flat against his abs. My unusually long fingers— perfect for a surgeon—cover the expanse of his abdomen inches away from his already hard cock. Thank fuck he’s into this as much as I am.
He lifts his pelvis and whines. Which shouldn’t be as hot as it is. “Please, Rainn.”
“Rules. Nothing below the waist.” I emphasize my point by running my finger along the edge of his briefs.
He glares and lets out a disgruntled sound as he hooks his thumbs in his underwear. Holy shit. Is he taking them off? And can I resist him if he does? Instead, he jerks his shorts and briefs down an inch, revealing his dark hair that has me trying to catch my breath.
“Bending the rules?” I ask with a breathless chuckle before rewarding his ingenuity by touching every bit of exposed skin. The coarse hair against my fingers fans the flames of desire shooting through me. I need him naked. Right the fuck now. “Take them off.”
His eyes widen, and he strips, his motions hurried. My eyes feast on his hard cock jutting out of the nest of dark curls. His balls look heavy and full. The smell of sweat and cedar and his arousal have me aching to touch him. To feel the weight of his cock as it pulses in my hands. To lick the bead of precum at the tip.
“Touch yourself, Mac.” I tear my gaze from his gorgeous cock to his face. I suck in a breath at the desire in his eyes. He wants this. Needs this. But he still looks vulnerable.
“Not yet,” he says, his voice low and sexy. “Your turn.” His eyes dart to the outline of my dick in my pajama pants.
I scramble out of them as fast as possible, pushing away thoughts of all the lines we’re crossing. I lean back against the headboard and put my bent arms above my head so I’m on display. His hungry eyes take me in, and fuck, my dick likes that a lot. His gaze rakes over my body.
“Mac?”
If he’s confused or questioning, it doesn’t show. “Watch me.”
Mac taking charge has always been one of my favorite things, but this takes it to a whole new level. He bends his legs with his feet flat on the bed and runs his hands up and down his muscled thighs. “I’ve thought about you. This. Ever since Vegas.” He audibly swallows. “Never allowed myself before.” He shakes his head. “But waking up next to you…naked. And the kisses. I imagined your hands on me. Stroking me. But not at first. I—” He shakes his head again.
“What? Tell me.”
“It’s embarrassing.” His eyes dart to mine and away.
“No judgment, Mac. You can’t leave me hanging.”
He scrunches his face and nods. “I imagined you were my doctor. Examining me. It seemed safer.”
All the oxygen in my body flees south, replaced with something hot. “Show me.”
“You start by listening to my heart. Your stethoscope. Your fingers barely touching my skin.” He presses his fingers against his left pec. “Accidentally brushing my nipple.” He teases the nub with his fingers, and I do the same, imagining I’m touching him. “You tell me my heart is racing. My skin is too hot. You need to do a thorough examination.” His face flushes red, and he doesn’t look at me. “You’re very matter-of-fact about it. Which makes it easier. You touch me all over,” he says, his hands showing me. “Except where I want it most. Gently brushing the inside of my arm. My inner thighs. Checking my reactions.”
His breathing increases. “You finally notice. Touch me.” He brushes one finger over his shaft from the root to the tip. “‘This is normal,’ you say, swiping a finger over the tip of my cock and gathering a drop.” He follows his words. “You—” He struggles with the words before choosing one. “Taste it. ‘Normal.’”
As he moves his finger toward his mouth, I take it and suck off the drop. Mistake. Now I want more. He lets out a strangled cry. “Jesus, Rainn.”
“Keep going.”
He swallows and nods. “You hold my cock in your hand. Weighing it. Assessing.” He does the same, and it’s fucking hot. “You stroke me, and I buck into your hand.” He moans as his hand flies over his cock. The sounds he’s making imprint in my brain for later.
“I need to check everything. I cup your balls and roll them in my fingers.” I try to keep my voice even, but it’s not easy. I’m wrecked and so close. He uses his other hand to fondle his balls. “Almost done. I need you to come for me, Mac.”
He lets out a cry as he comes all over his hand and stomach. I run his fingers through the mess and hold it to his lips. He only hesitates a second before he sucks the cum off. I kiss him desperately, slipping my tongue in his mouth to get a taste. My hand is on my cock, and I’m so close. Mac pushes me away. Did I take it too far? Is he going to freak out?
“I want to see you come.” And that’s all it takes. His eyes are glued to my cock as my orgasm hits and ropes of cum coat my stomach. “Holy heck.”
He touches my stomach and rubs his fingers together. Then, holding my gaze, he licks each one. I kiss him again, because in this moment of mutual bliss, I can. It’s slow and sweet and impossible.
How is this real? Mac and I jerked off together. He shared his fantasy. Opened up to me. And I realize, in that moment, I’m not lusting over my best friend. I’m way past lust. My feelings for Mac are more complicated than that.
I keep those thoughts to myself as we clean up and slip under the covers. Our wall is still there, and in a moment of bravery, I reach under the stacked blankets to find his hand and thread our fingers together.
The impending freakout is coming. From Mac. Or me. Hell, maybe the both of us. But that’s a problem for Future Rainn. I turn toward Mac, my eyes catching his over the top of our wall. My foot finds his where the blankets end. And I pretend this is all real, and it’s perfectly okay to be madly in love with my best friend. My husband.