21. Daire
21
DAIRE
Now that I’m not living with Cree and Jude, it’s hard to see them. Cree and I practice together every day, though there’s no time to really talk. And Jude’s on the football team, and our schedules don’t line up. When they cornered me earlier today and said they wanted to take me out for a bachelor party of sorts I was more than a little concerned about what they might have up their sleeves. Especially considering all the shit we’ve been known to get up to. I’ve been on my best behavior for weeks, avoiding anything that might make it seem like I’d be an unfit father. I haven’t even gone to Harvey’s—the bar on campus that’s been a staple for me and my friends for the last few years.
“Where are we going?” I gripe from the back seat of Cree’s Bronco.
Jude’s up front in the passenger seat—after the truth came out about Jude and Cree’s sister, they’ve been surprisingly amicable. Cree can’t be too mad when it’s fucking obvious that Jude’s obsessed with Millie. The guy worships the ground she walks on.
What was even more of a shock was finding Luke Covey in the back seat when I climbed in. He’s always sort of floated on the outside edges of our friend group. Since he doesn’t go out much, it makes it hard to get to know the guy.
“To get Mexican food and celebrate your nuptials. I still can’t believe you’re fucking married, dude.”
“I feel like I’m being kidnapped.”
At my grumbling Luke actually manages a laugh.
“Dude.” Jude turns around, clutching the back of his seat. “You’re too old to be kidnapped.”
“We’ve been driving forever.”
I might be a little cranky too. Practice was rough, and I’m pretty sure my ribs are bruised.
“Good food is worth the drive.”
I look to my left at Covey. “How’d you get roped into this?”
He flicks his fingers lazily at the two guys in the front of the car. “I heard tacos, and I was sold.”
“Fair enough.” I watch the world pass by outside the window, wondering what Rosie is up to. We’ve gotten along well since we finally talked about what happened our junior year. We might be the two biggest idiots on the planet, but we were teenagers, and it became so much bigger than it needed to be.
After what feels like one hundred years, we finally pull into the restaurant parking lot.
“I gotta piss,” I say, pushing my door open. Mostly, I just need to get out of the car.
For years, I’ve been hanging out with these guys, but suddenly, it feels weird. They’ve been caught up in their own lives for the past few months, and it’s safe to say that I’ve gotten used to not going out. I hate to admit it, even to myself, but I’d rather be at home on the couch watching a game.
By the time I come out of the restroom and find the guys, they’re already seated at a booth, but there’s one new addition.
“Teddy?” I ask as I approach.
He graduated last year and moved to New York City. He popped up earlier this year when he stayed with his mom for a bit and I was still living with the guys, but I haven’t seen him in months.
Teddy stands, a sombrero wobbling on his head. “You think I’d miss your bachelor party? Never.” To Cree he says, “Who turns down an excuse to drink tequila? And don’t worry, I got you a hat too.”
He holds one out to me, and suddenly, the other guys are wearing them too. Luke is paler than he was before, his lips turned down in a frown. I bet he’s regretting wanting tacos now.
“Great. Thanks for being sure to include me in all of this.” I gesture to the table and take a seat.
As I do, Teddy plunks the sombrero down on my head.
I close my eyes and groan. “Are we going to get in trouble for wearing these?” I ask. “This feels wrong.”
“No, the waitress gave them to me. They use them for parties.”
Great. Now there is no getting out of this.
“Fantastic,” I grumble, roughing a hand down my face.
The waitress stops by for our drink order and places two bowls of chips and salsa on the table.
Cree, Luke, and I dig in. I didn’t have time to eat after practice, and it looks like they’re just as ravenous. Jude and Teddy, on the other hand, look downright scared.
Teddy raises his hands. “I’ll… uh… wait for her to bring some more. You guys have at it.”
I still can’t get over the fact that Teddy’s even here. He’s like a whack-a-mole that just pops up randomly and disappears again.
“Here you guys go,” our waitress says with a smile, setting our drinks on the table.
I grab my Corona and squeeze the lime into the bottle. As I take that first pull, I survey my friends. Even though I was reluctant about coming out tonight—and still butt hurt that my friends weren’t there for me when I needed them—I’m glad I did.
Every one of them had their own shit going on too, so I’m getting over it. After what I went through with Rosie, I’ve learned my lesson about holding a grudge.
Teddy gasps so loudly that beside me, Luke looks like he’s ready to jump out of his skin.
“What the fuck, dude?” Jude shakes his head.
He shared a dorm room with Teddy until this year. He knows the guy too damn well.
“They have karaoke.”
As a collective, we all groan.
Luke gives a chuckle. “Am I wrong, or did you sing karaoke at Harvey’s dressed as Voldemort last year?”
Teddy’s face splits in a grin. “Fuck yes. I’m glad my performance was rememorable.”
“Rememorable?” Jude repeats, sneaking a chip while Cree isn’t paying attention. “Dude, I think you mean memorable.”
Teddy shrugs. “You knew what I meant.”
With Teddy, you never know what’ll come out of his mouth or what will happen next. It’s best to be prepared for any scenario.
By the time I have a full beer in me I’m feeling mellow.
Maybe it’s the beer, or maybe it’s because I’m a fucking dad now, but I’m feeling nostalgic tonight. How many more nights will we have like this as a group? Graduation is only a few months away, and then we’ll all be going our separate ways.
When my phone buzzes in my pocket, I dig it out, and I can’t help but grin when I see Rosie’s name.
Rosie: How’s it going? Do I need to call with a fake emergency to save you?
Me: It’s fine.
Rosie: Okay. Have fun.
I put my phone away, and when I look up, every guy around the table is staring at me. “What?” I ask stupidly.
Cree is downright gleeful when he asks, “Was that Rosie?”
“Yes?” I’m not sure why it comes out as a question, but it does.
“He’s got it bad,” Jude says to Cree.
“What?” I look between the four guys, my brain clearly lagging after a single beer.
“You’re falling for your wife,” Cree chortles. “Oh, this is brilliant. You gave me such a fucking hard time over Ophelia, and now the universe is getting back at you.”
“I… no. I mean I like her—as a friend. We’re patching things up.”
“Dude.” Teddy points a tortilla chip at me. “As someone who fell for my fake girlfriend, I feel like I’m more than qualified to speak on this subject. You’ve got the hots for your wife.”
Do I?
Rosie’s beautiful—she’s always been—but getting feelings involved could make this arrangement messy. Right? It doesn’t matter that when I kiss her, it’s like… like magic. As cheesy as that sounds.
I’ve tried my hardest not to think about those kisses, because I’ll drive myself insane if I do.
When I made the rule about not falling for each other, there wasn’t even a glimmer of a possibility in my mind that I would end up with all these complicated feelings for her.
Fuck, I think Teddy’s right.
“Love is scary as fuck,” Jude pipes in. “But it’s worth it, man. With the right person, it’s worth it.”
Cree glowers. “You’re dating my sister. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. Bleh.” He fake gags. “I can’t believe I’m going to be stuck with you for the rest of my life.”
Jude raises his hands and leans back in the chair. “What I said still stands.”
“What about you, Covey?” Cree asks, lifting his chin. “You ever been in love?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I haven’t.”
Narrowing my eyes, I ask, “Have you been out with Bertie?”
A rush of protectiveness hits me. Rosie’s best friend is a cool chick and doesn’t deserve to get strung along.
Luke ducks his head, and I’d fucking swear the guy is blushing. “I asked her on a date. She said no.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, man.” I sit back, pushing against the edge of the table. “She just got out of a long-term relationship. From what Rosie’s told me, it was messy at times.”
“It’s okay,” he says, picking up his beer. “Sometimes timing is everything, and when it doesn’t line up…” He shrugs in a what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it way.
“I didn’t tell you this, but I’m pretty sure she likes you. Don’t give up on her.”
He sits up a little straighter at that, his expression brightening. “Really?”
I nod, bringing my beer to my lips.
“Cool. Okay. I’ll text her or something.”
Our waitress approaches with a tray full of food. “Here you go.” She sets each of our plates in front of us, then tucks the tray under her arm. “Any more drinks?”
As a collective we say, “Yes.”
“I’ll be back with those in a minute.”
I’ve already scarfed one whole taco down when she returns with our second round. I won’t have more than this, but since we’re celebrating, I might as well indulge.
Jude raises his bottle in the air, his sombrero tilting to the side. “To the death of Daire’s bachelorhood.”
I shake my head and bite back a laugh.
“To the death of Daire’s bachelorhood,” the rest echo the sentiment.
I tip my bottle at them and drink.
I’m mostly sober by the time the guys drop me off, but it’s late, so I fully expect to find Rosie in bed. Instead, I find her in the family room, burrowed beneath a mountain of blankets, haloed by the light of the TV.
I struggle to get my shoes off, having to lean against the wall and yank one off, then the other rather than toe them off like I normally would. Maybe I am feeling the effects of the alcohol more than I thought. “What are you doing?”
“Watching a movie.” Her voice is muffled by the blankets.
My skin suddenly feels too hot, so I shrug out of my coat and drop it onto the floor. Then goes my sweatshirt and t-shirt.
Rosie’s eyes widen comically. “Are you… am I getting a striptease right now?”
“I just wanna be comfortable.”
When I reach for my belt, she yelps, covering her eyes with the blanket.
Once I’m down to my boxers, I grab a blanket and join her on the couch.
Slowly, she peeks out from behind her barricade, only revealing one brown eye to me. “Please tell me you’re wearing something under there.”
I smirk. “You’ve already seen my dick. What difference does it make?”
“Can you blame me for not wanting your bare ass on the new couch?”
I chuckle, my body lighting up with amusement. “I have my boxers on. You can relax.”
She keeps her face mostly covered, but what I can see of her cheeks is stoplight red. She continues staring at me like she’s in some sort of trance.
“Watch your movie.” I point to the screen.
“This is so weird,” she mutters, but eventually she turns her attention back to the TV.
The couch is big. I could’ve picked any spot. But I chose the one right beside her. It’s weird, this feeling of wanting to be close to her, but I don’t have the energy to fight it.
The movie is one I haven’t seen before. One of those lovey-dovey kinds. But I get sucked in anyway. Eventually her toes find their way from her blanket to beneath mine.
“Jesus.” I flinch. “Why are your feet like ice?”
“I don’t know.” She bats her eyes. “I’m cold. Care to warm them up for me?”
An embarrassingly high-pitched sound leaves me when she presses her entire ice-cold foot to my thigh instead of just her toes.
Grabbing her foot, I yank it into my lap and press my thumb into her arch.
A tiny moan escapes her full lips. “That feels so good,” she admits, closing her eyes.
It takes concerted effort not to grin at her response. “Glad I could put my hands to use in some way.”
She tugs her foot back at my comment, but I hold on tighter. “Nuh-uh. You’re not getting away that easily.”
I work my thumb around her whole foot, paying attention to the spots that are sore based on the sounds she makes.
Eyes closed, she rests her head back against the couch. “You’re really good at that.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my amusement. “I’m good at lots of things.”
She’s quiet for a moment. Then she raises her head and levels me with a thoughtful look. “Why do I feel like you’re flirting with me?”
My fingers still, along with my breathing. “Maybe I am.”
Silence stretches between us.
“You shouldn’t,” she finally says, her chin lowering a fraction. “It’s… I don’t want to get hurt.”
Heart hammering, I blurt out, “Would it be so bad? You and me? For real?”
Her mouth pops open in an adorable look of shock. “I’ve admitted to having a crush on you for years, and you’re asking me that? It’s… it’s what I always wanted,” she admits softly, her focus now fixed on the blanket she’s snuggled under rather than me. “But Daire… feelings would complicate things. We’re doing this for Sammy.”
I know what she’s saying, and fuck, out of the two of us, she’s being the smart one here, but I can’t stop myself.
I lean into her, hesitating with my mouth millimeters from hers.
“Tell me not to kiss you, Rosie.”
“I…” Her breath fans across my lips, warm and sweet. “I can’t do that.”
It’s all the invitation I need.
I cup her cheek and angle her head back. Her fingers find their way around my neck, holding me to her as I deepen the kiss. She tastes of chocolate and something else I can’t pinpoint.
Somehow, I get her on her back, our legs tangled in the blankets. I hold my weight above her with one elbow planted on the couch cushion, not wanting to break the kiss for anything.
There’s a small voice in the back of my mind warning me that I shouldn’t like kissing her so much. Because she’s right—it could seriously complicate things. But instinct has taken over, and I make no move to stop. Stopping feels fucking impossible.
I want more.
I crave more.
I swallow the little sounds she makes, desperate to hear them again.
“God, Rosie,” I groan, skimming my thumb over her bottom lip. She’s flushed beneath me, eyes heavy. I brush my nose over the skin of her neck, smiling to myself when she shivers. “I want to make you come. Will you let me do that?”
Her eyes widen, and she goes rigid beneath me. “I… I don’t… I’ve never…”
My heart lurches at her reaction. “What are you trying to say?”
She presses her lips together, turning her head to the side and breaking eye contact. “A guy has never made me come, okay?”
I stare down at her. Shock and anger on her behalf swirl inside me, mingling with a little awe. “Never?”
She presses her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “Nope. Not with his fingers. Or his mouth. Or his cock.”
A primal need to rise to the challenge roars to life inside me, insisting that I can.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she goes on, “I’ve had orgasms, but only with my vibrator. I guess I’m broken.” She gives a small, humorless laugh.
She makes a move like she’s going to slip out from under me, but I tighten my hold, not willing to let her go. Not yet at least.
“You’re not broken,” I whisper, my lips close enough to brush hers. “Are you willing to let me try?”
Her lips part. “Try…?”
“To give you an orgasm.”
“Daire,” she scoffs. “I… this sounds like a bad idea.”
I kiss just beneath her chin and inhale her scent. “I disagree. I think it’s a very good idea. A great one even. Downright excellent.”
She bites her lip, her eyes swimming with uncertainty. “And… when nothing happens, you’ll be okay? You won’t be mad?”
“First off, I would never be mad at you for something like that. Second, it is going to happen.”
“How can you be so sure?” she argues, and I’d swear there are tears in her eyes.
“Because,” I smile, slowly plucking the blankets away from her body, “you’ve never had sex with me.”
Her pained expression lightens a fraction. “That cocky, are you?”
“If you want to call it cocky, then sure.” I reach for the band on her sleep pants but stop there. I arch a brow, waiting for a signal from her. “I’d say self-assured.”
“That good in bed, are you?” There’s a little smirk on her lips—one I’m very much looking forward to turning into an O of pleasure.
“I’ve never heard any complaints.”
Finally, as a pink flush creeps up her neck, she gives me a small nod, and I wiggle her pants down, panties with them.
It’s kind of adorable, the way she presses her legs together in an effort to hide herself from me.
“Oh, come on, Rosie,” I goad with a smile, “show me that pretty pussy.”
She hesitates still, and I sit up, my stomach sinking.
“Are you okay? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I wouldn’t push you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“I know.” There’s a quiver in her voice. “I know you wouldn’t.”
I swallow past the trepidation rising up inside me. “Then what’s scaring you?”
Her stomach shakes with a laugh. “You. Me. Us.”
“I understand.” I think I do, at least. “I’m terrified.”
Of feeling something real.
Of fucking all this up.
Surprise lights her eyes. “You are?”
I nod, skimming my finger around her belly button. She shivers from the touch.
“Why don’t we see where all this goes?” I hold her gaze, wanting her to know I’m serious about this. “We’re already married. We might as well see what happens, don’t you think?”
She stares back, a million thoughts swirling behind her eyes, and swallows audibly. “I… okay.”
“Okay,” I echo. “Good. Can I please make you come now?”
She clutches my wrist. “You can’t?—”
I press a finger to her lips. “I will.”
She scrutinizes me for a long, silent moment, then gives me a small nod.
This time when I put my hands on her thighs, she relaxes the muscles there, letting me spread them.
“Fuck.” The word rips out of me. Her bare pussy is pink and glistening. She’s fucking drenched. Like maybe she’s been turned on from the moment I did my impromptu striptease.
Desperate to taste her, I lower my head and take my time licking her.
She whimpers beneath me.
“Does that feel good, baby?” I kiss the inside of her thigh. “You want more?”
Her breathless little “yes” has my cock aching.
I suck at her clit, and when she rocks her hips into me, I can’t help but chuckle. Looping my arms around her legs, I hold her still. I’ve never understood why some guys don’t like going down on girls. There are few things in this world more satisfying than working a woman up with my tongue and my fingers and watching her squirm beneath me, begging for more.
With one hand, Rosie rakes her fingers through my hair and grasps it roughly. I pull my mouth away from her core, looking up her body at her. Her lids are heavy and she’s pulled her t-shirt up so she can palm her right breast.
Oh, fuck.
She’s so fucking hot.
How the hell could I have so stupidly thrown our friendship away? Why didn’t I try for something more with her?
When she loosens her hold on my hair, I shake my head. “Hold on to me, Rosie.”
She whimpers at my words and obeys.
This time, I add my fingers along with my tongue, and instantly, she gets even wetter. Her legs begin to shake, her core quivering along with them, signaling that her orgasm is approaching.
It’s sooner than I expected.
Much sooner, considering that a guy’s never made her come.
Deep down, I hope it’s because she was secretly always waiting for me.
I was always the man for her. I was just too fucking dumb to see it.
“Daire, I—ohmygod, I’m coming.”
I tease her through her climax, and once her shaking subsides, I move up her body until I find her lips. If she doesn’t like the taste of herself on my mouth, she doesn’t show it. She kisses me back, her arms wrapping around my torso.
My lips find the curve of her ear. “I’m not done with you yet.”
She opens her mouth, but before she can speak, I grab her and roll onto my back, taking her with me.
“Wha—”
“Hold on to the back of the couch,” I coax, fingers digging into her ass. “And ride my face.”
“Oh.” She looks down at me, her jaw unhinged.
I do my best not to laugh at her mildly horror-stricken expression. If I do, this will be coming to an end far too soon.
“I’m… won’t I be too heavy?”
“Rosie?” I squeeze her ass and look up at her, trying not to think about how her soaking wet pussy is pressing into the fabric of my boxes. “When a man tells you to ride his face, you ride his goddamn face, you hear me?”
She squeaks when I lift her up and put her right where I want her.
Too heavy? Her fucking mother.
There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll be having a talk with that woman sooner rather than later. I hate that her mother, of all people, put those kinds of thoughts and feelings in her head.
Un-fucking-acceptable.
“You’re hovering, Rosie,” I singsong. “Give me more.” I give her ass another squeeze and tug her down.
Her first instinct is to resist, but after about three seconds, she finally does.
At the first spear of my tongue into her pussy, she nearly falls off the couch. With one hand still on her ass, I slide the other up to her ribcage to steady her.
Her reaction might be funny if I didn’t want to make her orgasm again so bad.
Maybe even a third time if she’ll let me.
She holds on to the back of the couch like I told her. At first, she’s stiff above me, but as I continue, she relaxes and begins to roll her hips against my face.
Fucking heaven.
I groan, deep in my throat, relishing in the absolute trust she’s putting in me.
That little rumble is all it takes to have her crying out and falling over the edge.
She’s certainly reactive with me. Obviously, she’s wasted far too much time on boys who don’t know what the fuck they’re doing when it comes to women.
I barely give her time to come down from the high before I have her on the couch again. I sink to the floor between her legs and palm her inner thighs, spreading her wide.
I’m fucking desperate to stroke my cock, but I hold myself back.
This is about her.
It’s not about my pleasure. Not tonight.
I want Rosie to enjoy herself without thinking she owes me anything.
“I can’t come again,” she whimpers, throwing an arm over her face.
I slide two fingers into her dripping pussy, and instantly, she quivers around me. “Your pussy disagrees with that statement.” I crook my fingers.
In response, her back bows off the couch. “Holy fuck, Daire.”
Fuck, I’ve never felt this satisfied in my entire life.
I work my fingers in and out. Slow. Fast. Hard. Gentle.
The second I add my tongue, she detonates like a bomb going off.
“Holy fucking shit.”
Her skin glistens with sweat, her breasts heaving. I’m not sure when she ditched her shirt entirely, but I certainly appreciate the view of her full tits.
I lick my fingers clean, fighting a grin at her wide-eyed expression as she watches me.
“I didn’t think that was possible,” she admits, reaching for a blanket and pulling it over her torso.
With a tut, of disapproval, I swipe the blanket from her. I’m not done looking my fill yet.
“Glad to prove you wrong.” I join her on the couch, ignoring the way my rock-hard dick is begging to be let free.
“That was … wow.”
I chuckle and drop a kiss the top of her head.
Her eyes drop to my lap. “Can I?—”
I grab a pillow, covering up my erection. “No.”
Her face flames. “Oh. I—wow. Okay.”
Averting her gaze, she tries to scurry away on all fours to the other side of the couch. The sight alone almost has me coming in my underwear. She’s killing me.
I grab her bare waist and pull her back down beside me.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Believe me. But this was about you. Not me. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me because I made you come.”
“Three times.” She holds up her fingers and wiggles them. “Three.”
I snatch her hand and pull it to my mouth, nipping at them. “Next time I’ll make it four. Maybe five if I’m feeling lucky.” I wink.
Her mouth falls open. “Five?”
“Mhm. I’ll make you count them.”
Standing, I stretch my arms above my head. I revel in the way she watches me. It’s not just blanket desire in her eyes. No, I swear that emotion is accompanied by something like admiration, maybe even—nope, not going there.
I hold out a hand to her. “We need to go to bed.”
“I don’t think I can move.”
I shrug. “No problem.” I haul her up and over my shoulder, eliciting a scream from her. Grinning at the response, I smack her ass, then I make my way for the stairs.
“Daire! Put me down!”
I do. On her bed.
I give myself a solid ten seconds to admire her lying on her bed naked, cheeks flushed from the orgasms that I gave her when no other guy could.
She scowls up at me. “Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, Hendricks.”
My smile only grows as my heart pounds harder in my chest. “You’re welcome, Mrs. Hendricks.”
Before she can retort, I walk out and close her door. A pillow hits it with a soft thud a second later.
It’s late, but there’s no way I’m going to sleep until I’ve had an extra-long shower.
Next time, I told Rosie.
Because there will be a next time. And a time after that.
And maybe, if we let ourselves, a forever.