Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
“This afternoon was crazy,” Echo remarks from behind the bathroom door.
I glance at my watch. Ten after five. We’re late. Typical Echo. She drives my inner taskmaster insane, but her tardiness is a quirk I’m used to. Sometimes, it’s almost cute…just not when I’m hoping to get some face-time with the big boss. Since he’s based in New York, not the West Coast, my chances to schmooze him are limited.
But Echo has this way about her… It’s almost impossible to stay angry. I always end up forgiving her. The universe does, too, because it frequently rewards her gentle bending of the rules with something fabulously serendipitous.
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to relax. We’ll get to the mixer. It’s not like I’m eager for the actual event. These things are boring, full of windbags, and seem to last forever.
“Insane,” I answer through the door. “What are the odds of Xavian being related to that inn keeper’s husband and having so much family?”
“Right? But I have a good feeling about it. X needs relatives he can count on, and Eryn swears the Reeds are solid.”
“Plus, with Noah Weston for a brother-in-law, he’ll always be popular with the jocks in the office.”
“Um…is that Noah guy a big deal?”
I laugh. Echo has never been into watching sports. She’d rather participate. “Huge. Probably one of the top five pro quarterbacks of all time.”
“Oh. Well, I’m just happy that the family seems willing to make room for him.”
“One hundred percent.” I glance at my watch again. Now we’re fifteen minutes late. It will still take at least another five to walk to the ballroom. I’m getting antsy.
As if she can read my mind, Echo laughs. “You’re about to pace, aren’t you? I’m almost ready.”
From the other side of the door, I hear clothing rustle. That’s all it takes for my subversive imagination to melt thoughts of business from my brain and start feeding me visions of Echo. I picture her sliding on a lacy bra that cups her full breasts—which I’m ashamed to say I want to touch—and matching underwear that shields her innocent pussy. Mentally, I examine every curve, just like I did when she wore that barely legal bikini. But now it’s better…and worse. In this vision, I can see through everything.
Lust jolts me. I curl my hands into fists to restrain myself from marching into the bathroom, pressing her against the nearest flat surface, and stripping off whatever she just put on.
If simply imagining her in next to nothing is making you crazy, what will the real thing do?
Deep breaths. I need to slow my roll. I can’t be this hot for Echo. I’m not having sex with my best friend.
When she pushes the bathroom door open, my mental pep talk goes out the window. Her dress is a transparent lacy shift in creamy white with a sheath underneath that’s the same color as her skin. The effect, along with the plunging neckline and short skirt, leaves her looking hazardously close to naked. The erection I was trying to will away turns steely.
She’s wound her hair into a soft twist and left loose tendrils framing her face. Her eyes are shaded in a smudged brown with a hit of nude shimmer on her lids. I fall into her stare and get lost. Somehow, I manage to pull free, I trip visually on her rosy lips. They make me ache to kiss her again.
For the first time I can ever remember, she’s wearing high heels. They’re strappy things that match her dress, wrap around her ankles, and make her legs look sinfully long.
“Wow.” The word slips out as I gawk.
She smiles, flashing me her dimple again. “Thanks. Shall we?”
“Sure.” Staying here would be dangerous to my sanity…and her virginity.
From the table, she grabs a little crocheted purse. I open the door before following her out—and get another surprise.
“The back of your dress is missing.”
Echo laughs and wraps her hand around my arm, pulling me down the hall.
I’m serious. Everything between the shoulder blades and the curve of her ass is bare. Another reality hits me. “You can’t possibly be wearing a bra.”
She sends me a flirty smile. “No, I can’t.”
I stop in my tracks. “This mixer is optional, shortcake. We could stay in and…” I sidle closer and graze my lips up her neck before I can stop myself.
“No. You only have two events to attend all week, and I’m going to show off this dress I fell in love with to someone.”
“Oh, I’m looking at it.” Even though I shouldn’t.
Echo grins and tugs on my arm. “Come on…”
With a rough sigh, I follow her to the elevator, then down to the ballroom, already brimming with my co-workers and some of their plus-ones. The younger, single guys, mostly my friends from different offices, congregate around the bar, shooting back whiskey, talking bullshit, and clandestinely browsing the handful of single ladies who work in this largely male environment all dressed up for the cocktail party.
My CEO, along with the senior management team, stands at the door, shaking hands.
When I reach his side, he claps my shoulder with a wide smile. “Elliot! Good to see you.”
“Thanks, Mr. Helm. This is Echo Hope. She just graduated from my alma mater last week.”
“Congratulations!”
“Thanks.” She sends him a dimpled smile as she shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Glad you could join us. You enjoying Maui?”
“It’s amazing.” She sighs. “We got out to sightsee and visit some people I know on the island today. But before I leave, I’m determined to teach Hayes how to surf.”
“You surf?” Mr. Helm looks impressed.
“I learned as a kid. It’s awesome fun. A good way to be with nature, you know? And great for building core strength.”
My boss nods like she’s right, then he looks my way. “Now I’m jealous. Sounds like you’re going to have a great teacher.”
“If you want to learn, I’m happy to teach you, too.”
More bonding time with the CEO would be great, but he’s recently divorced and reportedly on the prowl. He’s not looking at Echo like he’s interested…yet. But if he saw her in a bikini?
“I’m sure he’s busy, shortcake.”
Mr. Helm smiles wryly. “I am, but I hope you’ll tell me all about it at the closing mixer. If Elliot is half as determined on a surfboard as he is in the office, I’m sure he’ll do great.”
“Thank you, sir.” I hustle Echo along before my boss changes his mind.
“Great meeting you!” she calls over her shoulder.
I guide her into the ballroom where the deejay is blasting some eighties tune about Walking on Sunshine and head toward the bar. Instantly, my work buddies stare at Echo. I know those hungry expressions. They’re sharks. That’s why they’re great at making money. They also skim the singles’ pool looking for the tastiest morsels before consuming them whole and shitting them out.
They aren’t getting anywhere near her.
After the two of us grab drinks, I give my work pals a vague wave and lead her to a group I don’t normally socialize with: the thirty-somethings. They’re largely married with kids. They spend fewer hours in the office and are less relentless for the financial kill, but they’re also less likely to hit on Echo. We’ll stay at this gathering long enough not to be rude. Then I’ll take her to dinner. Maybe I can suggest a movie, too. Or could I get her drunk enough to pass out? Then I wouldn’t have to worry about her tempting me beyond my control.
“Hey, Elliot!” calls Dave Crenshaw. He’s a decent guy from the San Diego office who trained me my first few days on the job.
“Hey, man.” We shake hands and bump shoulders. “What’s up?”
“Just enjoying the time with my wife before the baby comes in September. Work kicked my ass when we got married so we didn’t get much of a honeymoon.” He introduces me to his other half, Aubrey.
“This is”—What do I call her since she temporarily agreed to be more than my friend?—“Echo.”
She smiles warmly. “We’ve been friends forever. Congratulations on your baby. Have you decided on a name?”
Just like that, the conversation is off and running. Another couple joins us. Then another from the office in the Valley. I came to the mixer thinking I’d shake Mr. Helm’s hand and hang with my buddies for a bit. But I can hear them now, loud and shitfaced, verbally undressing the waitstaff in skirts. God, am I ever that obnoxious?
I’ve always thought mixing it up with the old-and-marrieds would be dull as fuck, but I’ve already made two contacts, got an offer to work on a joint deal, and an invitation to play poker in a couple of weeks. And they aren’t slackers in the office at all. The guy I just met from Orange County tripled the commission I made last year. I’m in awe.
Echo already seems to be fast friends with their wives. I’ve heard talk about visiting a yoga studio back home. My girl knows someone who can paint a mural for another mom who wants one in her toddler’s room. She’s also connecting Kella, who’s got a side-hustle as a web developer, with another wife who’s starting a home-based vegan skincare business. Then the group invites us to dinner after the mixer, and Echo is on board. Spending more time with these folks is a guilty relief.
As we leave, I ignore the ribbing from my usual pals still hanging by the bar, drinking the company booze, and get an approving thumbs-up from Mr. Helm.
Dinner with everyone is great. By the time it’s over, Echo also has connections for gently used play equipment for her new employers. Best of all, she smiled the whole evening.
On the way to our bank of elevators, I reaffirm my game plan: put her in an orgasm coma while keeping my pants zipped, then take a self-pleasuring shower afterward and shake off any sexual thoughts I have. Tomorrow…I’ll figure out how to recycle the strategy so my best friend leaves Hawaii as virginal as the day she arrived. I’ve recovered from my earlier lascivious thoughts. I’m braced now.
Confident, I take her hand. But I’m startled again by the sudden awareness that zips and hums between us.
“Thanks for coming with me,” I say.
“Of course. It was fun, except…” A blush stains her cheeks. “The women asked me how long we’d been together. I did my best to be non-committal.”
I got speculative glances, too. Guys don’t usually ask, but I could tell they had questions. “I’m sure you did great.”
The elevator doors open, and we step in. We’re totally alone since it’s late. Time to put my plan in motion.
I back Echo against the wall of the ascending car, take her face in my hands, and press my body to hers. I’m more eager to touch her than I should be. The instant I do, my control starts to slip.
It’s not a good sign.
“Your mouth is driving me crazy, shortcake. Do us both a favor, and tell me not to kiss you.”
Her lips part gently. Her tongue peeks out to wet them.
My body tightens.
“Why would I do that when I’m aching for you to kiss me?”
Shit.
I still my hand around her nape and lift her face to mine. Her plump lips part gently. Her lashes flutter. Her breathing quickens.
It’s only a kiss. We’re in semi-public. It can’t get too crazy, right?
But nothing with Echo is ever “normal.”
Before I can take her mouth, she lifts on her tiptoes and fuses her lips to mine. They’re soft, pillowy, and warm. Right on cue, that sweet, sweet scent of hers fills my nose. Then she wraps her arms around my neck with a little moan and plasters her breasts against me. The points of her nipples drill into my chest.
Is it hot in this elevator, or is it just me?
Somehow, she nestles even closer. Every curve of her body fits against a plane of mine. Then she wriggles like she’s dying to get closer. Tingles rush through me. My blood heats. My cock nearly bursts through my zipper. Hunger surges. I stop thinking as I grip her hips and press her to my aching shaft. Echo doesn’t protest, just gasps into my kiss and melts against me.
The little ding announcing that the elevator has reached our floor makes me snarl with frustration. The doors start to slide shut again when I lift Echo and carry her out. We step onto the breezeway as the car disappears, panting hard and staring at each other.
Her eyes search mine, earnest and dark with desire.
Would it be so terrible if I gave Echo what she wants? What her eyes are pleading for right now?
Yes. Forget your cock. Think of your best friend.
“Come on.” My voice sounds both soft and scratchy as I take her hand and lead her to our room.
When we step inside, the radio she left on in the background belts out Harry Styles’s summery, sexual “Watermelon Sugar.” The song matches our mood.
“Hayes?” she murmurs as I lock the door behind us.
The desire dripping from her voice makes me stiffen. “Yeah, shortcake?”
“It’s going to hurt the first time, right?”
The thought of Echo losing her virginity kills me because she’ll be with someone else. But that’s best for her, so I tamp down my violent thoughts and this weird jealousy.
“Yeah, but we don’t have to rush into this.”
She drops her purse on the nearby table and pads back to me. “We’re not rushing. I’m ready.”
I was afraid she was going to say that.
Time to start the next phase of my plan: pour her some wine, kiss her thoroughly, put my hand under her skirt, give her an orgasm or two—and hope she falls asleep. Rinse and repeat for the rest of the week.
But as usual, Echo destroys my carefully laid plans.
Reaching behind her neck, she unfastens her dress. I hold my breath as she pulls one arm free, then the other. The bodice falls to her waist, completely exposing her pale breasts and their juicy, berry-tipped nipples.
Oh, holy shit.
I’m in trouble.
“Shortcake…” I scrub a hand across my face and stare. I can’t move. Or breathe. Hell, I don’t even want to blink and miss a second of her.
Biting her lip in the shadowy room, Echo reaches around to the small of her back. A quiet hiss tells me she’s drawing down the zipper.
“Wait. Let me do that.” Later. Much later.
But it’s already too late.
The lacy dress slides down her thighs and pools at her feet. Then she’s wearing nothing but high heels and a pair of panties the same color as her flesh. The front panel is simple. Plain cotton with a tiny silk bow directly beneath her belly button. Unlike my fantasies, the fabric isn’t transparent, but reality proves excruciatingly sexier because I can’t see her pussy. What I can see? The tight fabric clinging to her swollen folds and an obvious wet spot.
She’s that aroused, and I’ve barely touched her?
Knowing I’m the man turning her on stomps all over my good intentions.
She steps out of her dress, trembling as she turns to drape the garment over a chair. I get a look at the lush jut of her ass. The simple cotton fronting her panties is gone, replaced by a sheet of lace so delicate and thin I see every inch of the high, firm flesh flaring between her hips, the delicate line bisecting those juicy globes beneath her tiny waist, and the round cheeks curving below the edge of the lace, leading my stare directly to the shadows between her thighs that shield her untouched pussy. Suddenly, I want to see it, touch it, taste it, and take it—way more than I should.
Dragging in a breath, I try to form words—hell, thoughts—when she steps out of her shoes and closes the six feet between us on soft, silent feet. She stops short of touching me. “Say something.”
“You’re so fucking beautiful, I can’t speak.”
She smiles. It’s not her everyday grin. And it’s nothing like the face she makes when she’s about to laugh. It’s not the strained curl of her lips I’ve seen when she tries to skate through an uncomfortable situation. It’s definitely not an expression she’s plastered on to placate me. This smile is big and real. It makes her glow. “You think so?”
“Yeah.” My insistence makes her smile even brighter. That does something to me. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I probably shouldn’t have admitted that, but I won’t lie to her…at least not more than I have to.
She frowns. “Now I know you’re being less than honest.”
I catch her chin in my grip and lift it until she’s forced to look at me. “I’m not. Until this week, I had no idea how stunning you are, Echo.”
She searches my eyes breathlessly as she reaches for the buttons of my dress shirt. “Are you going to take your clothes off?”
If she gets me naked, my plan will go sideways. I feel like a class-A bastard, but I don’t merely want her. I’m dying to worship her body. And the urge isn’t just about her looks. She’s staring at me with uncertain eyes, and everything inside me aches to hold her, to prove to her that I find her desirable. Beautiful. Lovable. I might not cherish her in the til-death-do-us-part sense, but I care enough about her to make damn sure her first time is the best it can be. Maybe that’s enough?
Nope. I’m rationalizing again. I need to stop.
Gently but firmly, I grab her wrists. “Eventually.”
“Are you going to touch me?”
“Yes.” I doubt anything, even guilt, can stop me now.
Finally, I lift my hands to her body, shocked to find I’m shaking. Instantly, my palms cup her breasts, and she fills them. Echo is more than a handful.
Her eyes slide shut. She sighs out a shaky moan. The sound slides all the way through my body.
You’re fondling your best friend .
And I’m so fucking aroused by her, I barely manage to stop from stripping off every stitch I’m wearing and carrying her to bed.
Shit, I have to get myself under control. It shouldn’t be this difficult. I’m not hard up. Three short days ago, I stopped by Jayci’s place to get a little before I headed out for a sexless week in Hawaii. I left satisfied enough. It should have tided me over for a mere seven days.
But I never suspected I’d be unexpectedly fixated by my gorgeous best friend.
“Hayes…”
Her plea sounds breathy and desperate. I can’t resist that.
I slide my thumbs over her nipples, gratified when they stiffen even more under my touch. I’m torn between kissing her, sucking on them, or just staring.
Echo takes the decision from me, pressing closer and tilting her lips under mine.
Lowering my head, I close the distance between our mouths and send my lips crashing over hers without finesse or restraint. She whimpers and opens to me, luring me deeper, inviting me to take more.
Yes. Fuck yes .
Our kiss spirals out of control in seconds. Desire scalds me. I’m on fire. It’s surreal. This is Echo, my best friend since childhood.
Right now, I fucking want her so badly I’m shaking and sweating. But I shouldn’t make her mine in every way if I’m not going to make her mine forever. So I have to settle for making her feel good this week…and hope that’s enough.
Without ending the kiss, I lift her, carrying her to the sofa and plopping down on the cushions. She tumbles onto me, straddling my hips and falling deeper into my kiss as she presses herself against my cock. Without missing a beat, she wriggles against me. Her little catches of breath, along with her hard nipples burning my palms, crush my best intentions.
Realizing how gorgeous Echo is shocks me, but seeing that she’s also sexy as fuck? Mind. Blown. She oozes female. And sex. Echo might be a virgin, but she’s clearly not self-conscious about her body, afraid of what might happen next, or remotely shy. She moves in the perfect rhythm to simulate sex—and drives me out of my head.
I need to get control of this situation or…
Best not to think about the “or” right now .
Reluctantly, I grab her hips to still them and ease back from her lips. “Slow down, shortcake.”
“Why?”
Because I’m trying not to fuck you isn’t the answer she wants to hear. “Let me make you feel good first.”
“You are,” she swears as she tears into the buttons of my dress shirt with feverish fingers. “You will.”
She’s released a few by the time I grab her hands and stop her. But as soon as I let go of her hips, she gyrates on my cock again. Fresh desire rips through me. I toss back my head and groan.
Fuck it. She can have the shirt.
With her hips in my hands again, I slow her rocking. If I had better control of myself, I’d let her work against me until she came. I’m shocked I don’t, but there it is. Besides, I’d rather give her pleasure with my hands. Or my mouth.
Why not both?
My head down south thinks that’s a great plan. My befuddled brain jumps on board.
Without another thought, I flip her down to the sofa and half-press myself on top of her. My lips unerringly capture hers again. And my hand wanders from her hard-tipped tits, over the flat surface of her stomach, and straight under the waistband of her panties.
Then…oh, fuck. I’m. Touching. Echo’s. Pussy.
And she’s drenched. She’s smooth and bare, too.
When I graze her steely clit, she gasps. Desire jerks against my mental restraint.
“Shortcake…”
“Oh, my god. Hayes…yes. Yes!”
She spreads herself open wider, inviting me to do whatever I want. She trusts me, and I feel horrible for lying—but that won’t stop me from making her come. I’ll apologize later.
“So fucking perfect,” I praise her as I settle my fingers between her folds, mesmerized by the jolt of her hips in rhythm with my slow, tormenting circles. “Jesus, Echo.”
Her back arches. Her body shudders. She clutches my shoulders, her eyes flaring wide as she whimpers for me. “You’re going to make me come.”
Already? Damn it. Some wretched part of me wants this to last all night so I can hear her beg, plead, and whimper until she can’t help but scream.
I don’t dare.
“Good. Let go,” I murmur against her lips before I seize them again, plowing deep, tongues tangling, while my fingers work her closer to frenzy.
She pants and gasps, rolling her hips again and seeking out my touch. Fuck, I want her panties off. I want to watch my fingers in her pussy. I want to see her totally naked, flushed, and aching for me.
I want inside her.
This isn’t about you .
I step up my effort, kissing down to her chin, gliding over the graceful arch of her exposed throat, to the swells of her breasts…then finally to her nipples desperately stabbing the air.
The moment I take one in my mouth, her clit swells under my fingers, which I work faster and harder. She keens out. I nearly lose it.
She’s so responsive. Fuck, she’s on the edge. Her sugary scent hangs thick. Then I realize what I’ve been smelling on her all week is her pussy. It’s perfuming the air, filling my nose, getting me high. It’s threatening to override what little control I have left.
I lave her nipple, then move to the other. They’re so fucking hard against my tongue. I’m probably going to hell for this, but I suck the nub deep. She keens. Her hips lift and strain. Her pussy is soaked. And she grabs me like only I can save her.
She’s seconds from orgasm.
Electricity fills the air. Her need threatens to mow me down. I’ve never felt so dialed into a woman. I’m two seconds away from tearing off her panties and telling my good intentions to fuck off.
But she squeezes her eyes shut. Her clit turns impossibly hard. Her entire body goes taut, legs stiffening as she pings with climax. And she screams. My name. At the top of her lungs.
I’ve never been more turned on in my life.
It’s a dangerous realization as I drag out her pleasure through a long, grinding, throaty climax that seems to roll on for half an eternity before she falls completely limp in my arms.
Endless, panting moments later, she opens her heavy-lidded eyes with a loopy smile. A satisfied Echo takes my breath away. Right now, I’d kill to put that expression on her face every day.
“That was”—she sighs—“Amazing. I need to return the favor.”
I’d love that, but no. Hell no. If I get any hotter, I seriously doubt I’ll be able to resist.
I’ve got to stop her.
As always, Echo has a mind of her own. She slides off the couch between my legs—and onto her knees. Then she reaches for my zipper.
My heart stops. My breath saws in and out of my chest as I grab her wrists. “Echo. Shortcake…”
Her golden eyes climb to my face, wide and supplicating. “Let me make you feel good. Let me try…”
How the fuck do I say no to that?
“I don’t know how good my self-control is right now.”
She gives me a soft smile of understanding. “That’s okay. I don’t want your self-control. I just want you.”
My grip tightens. I’m desperate. Maybe I should put my tongue on her pussy and drive her to distraction. I’d love to try…but if I don’t let her touch me now, will I spend the rest of my life wondering what her hands on my cock feel like?
It’s a dangerous question. I’m an asshole for even thinking it. “Are you sure?”
Echo nods earnestly.
I’m insane, but slowly, I release her.
She rips my button free, yanks down my zipper, and frees my erection. Instantly, she grips it, wrapping her small hands around me and stroking with a slow, barely there touch that wrenches a groan from me. I sink down the cushions and lift my hips, silently urging her on.
“You’re so hard. But your skin is so soft here.” Wonder fills her voice.
“Yep,” I barely manage to eke out.
“And you’re wet.” She skates a slow, sliding thumb over my sensitive head. “Leaking.”
I hiss and struggle to think of a way to take back control of the situation. “Don’t do that.”
She stops instantly. “You don’t like it?”
It would be smarter to lie to her, but… “No, it feels too good. I’m most sensitive there.”
“Really?” she drawls like she finds that information very helpful—then drags her thumb over my crest in a horribly delicious, spine-bending glide.
“Fuck.” It’s torture.
I throw my head back, dizzy and reeling. But every moment she’s touching me is a moment she isn’t expecting me to take her virginity. I’ve just got to hold out…somehow.
Then again, if she makes me come, I can tell her I’m spent and couldn’t possibly get hard again tonight—a total lie—but at this point that might be my best option.
“That feels incredible, shortcake,” I groan. “You have no idea…”
She giggles. “Since you just gave me an orgasm, I do. It’s your turn.”
Before I can grasp what Echo has planned, she raises on her knees, lowers her head, and, oh—holy motherfucking son of a bitch—closes her lips around me.
I’ve died. I’m in heaven. And I never want to leave.
Then her warm, wet mouth descends so slowly down my cock, I’d swear she’s determined to taste every inch along the way. I drag in a breath, trying to steady myself. But it’s no use. My fingers thrust into her hair, sending bobby pins flying and her skeins tumbling down. I shove my fingers in the thick mass and fist it as her lips nearly reach the bottom of my shaft.
Yes. Fuck yes.
That’s your best friend giving you a blow job .
Yeah, and I can’t remember a woman’s mouth ever making me ache like this.
As if I have no control, my hips rise to meet her. She takes the rest of my cock deep, her tongue cradling me before she sucks me like she can’t get enough. She whimpers. Her eyes lift to me. She’s seeking my approval.
Suddenly, I have no filter, and I can’t find a single fuck to give about what happens tomorrow.
“Echo… Suck me. Yes. All the way to the tip. Hard. Like that. Oh, fuck…”
She does it exactly the way I ask, but when her lips reach the head again, she swirls her tongue across the sensitive surface. A gentle glide of her teeth follows.
I nearly come out of my skin.
Her mouth heads straight back down, this time faster, skimming my length, dragging in audible breaths through her nose as she angles me all the way to the back of her throat.
Where the fuck did she learn that?
Before I can ask, she starts in on me again.
Another few pulls, and I’ll be a goner.
Just when I swore this couldn’t get any hotter, she slips one hand inside her panties and touches herself. Her head bobbing on my cock and her hand moving between her legs mesmerize me. I give in to the moment, letting my head fall back and my eyes slide shut. Fire licks its way up my shaft, blazing through my bloodstream. I spread my legs. My fingers tighten in her hair. A groan tears from my throat.
She’s killing me, especially when her frantic, breathy gasps tell me her excitement is ramping up as quickly as mine.
Then the rhythm of her mouth falters. She laves my head with a hard, shallow suck and pauses. Finally, after a moan, she sinks down. Then she stops, shaking.
I open my eyes. The sight of Echo is a gut-punch of arousal, but the needs of her trembling body are overriding the coordination of her mouth. I’m not surprised. She’s not used to pleasuring anyone but herself.
Whatever. I’m more than willing to help her along.
Gently, I tug on her hair and brace a finger under her chin, lifting her off me slowly. She looks at me with dazed, dilated eyes, her hand still moving between her legs. She whimpers, her face full of agony.
I can’t leave her like this. Hell, I shouldn’t even be taking pleasure from her in the first place…but I can’t stop myself.
“Come here, shortcake.” I sit up and pull her closer.
She looks crestfallen. “I wasn’t doing it right?”
“You were doing great.” I grin. “Until you got distracted.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop touching…” She halts mid-sentence, flushing a deeper red. “I’ll do better.”
“Let me improve your focus.” I don’t question how risky my next move is. I just slide the soaking panties off her hips and down her thighs.
“What are you going to do?”
Her voice is breathy and husky. It torques me with fresh desire.
I don’t bother to answer, just grin as I wrap my arms around her and lift her onto the sofa, facing me on her knees. She frowns, confused, until I inch down, sliding my ass to the edge of the cushion and stare at her pussy right above my parted lips.
She’s so swollen and pink, juicy, soft, and completely smooth. Does she have any idea how much I want her?
Echo gasps when she realizes my intent, her indrawn breath sharp and shocked. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to. Don’t make me stop.”
I grip her thighs and lift my head, then drag my tongue through her slick slit.
Perfect. That’s the only way I can describe Echo’s taste.
I dive deeper, get more of her on my tongue. She’s hot. Sweet as honey. Addicting. I need more—now.
She grabs on to the back of the sofa with a long, agonized groan that urges me on.
I prod her pebbled clit, and she shudders. I want more. I open her pussy wide with my thumbs, settle the flat of my tongue inside her furrow, and cover every wet inch of her in a long, slow lick.
Her thighs tremble. She chants my name like she’s hoping I’ll save her. But I want her to burn.
I eat at her hungrily, tasting, sucking, sampling, exploring until she gasps in increasingly high-pitched breaths. Her legs shudder. Her breasts bob. Her clit turns to stone.
Then Echo tosses her head back and screams.
She looks so fucking beautiful in pleasure… Even if I live to be a hundred and even if I fuck a thousand women, I will never forget Echo in this moment.
As she comes down from her loud, shattering climax, I tuck away the implications of that realization, sit up, and try to take her in my arms.
But Echo has already escaped, slid back to her knees at my feet, and started sucking on my cock with a desperation that literally steals my breath.
Any cool-down the pause in her oral adulation gave me is gone. Less than a half-dozen pulls with her mouth, and I’m lifting to her rhythm, breathing like a bellows, and swearing that my best friend is about to steal my sanity with this mind-melting pleasure.
Maybe that’s not all she’s stealing …
“Echo. Suck me. That’s it. Fuck. Fuck! Oh, my god… Yes! Ahh…”
The pressure coiling and building inside me suddenly explodes. Violent need swirls, churning in my balls and knocking me on my ass. Liquid ecstasy jets, drowning my good sense.
Echo is with me, not skipping a beat, despite how rough my grip in her hair is or how insistently I push into her warm, waiting mouth.
When it’s over, I pant, watching, stunned, as she sits up, swallows, and smiles at me like I’ve somehow made her life complete.
Suddenly, I have the sneaking suspicion that mine never will be if we try going back to simply being friends.