Chapter Five
Olly
I pace back and forth in our usual meeting spot, scowling at everyone who isn’t Lacey.
Where is she?
I check my phone—I’m early.
“Fantastic,” I mumble, rubbing the tension from my forehead and wishing I’d checked the time before getting out of bed this morning.
Since Lacey’s decision, one hour has bled into the next, leaving me wide awake in bed, sleep-deprived, and confused as fuck.
Irritation burns through me, but not at Lacey. She would never have picked the professor if I hadn’t opened my stupid fucking mouth. She is too sweet for that spicy trope.
She’s too good for anyone.
What did I expect to happen when I told her she needed to fuck? If she doesn’t end up in the professor’s bed, it will be some other unworthy jerk-off, and there is nothing I can do about it.
I gulp the last of my coffee, toss the cup in the bin, and shake off the unwarranted emotions turning my stomach. This is Lacey’s story, and my job as BFF is to help make it a reality.
Twenty minutes later, she’s walking toward me… in a black suit.
Lacey tugs on the lapels of her jacket, trying to smooth out nonexistent wrinkles and pretend she is as confident as the image she’s trying to project.
She’s too fucking adorable.
She stops in front of me with a bop in her step.
I hook my finger in the collar of her shirt and tug. “What’s this?”
She smooths a hand down the offending outfit. “My professional look.”
I play with one button, tempted to unhook it and leer at the enticing skin she covers up too much. “You want him to fuck you, not hire you.”
“This isn’t all fun and games. It’s my career. I want him to take me seriously. I’m an author requesting assistance with researching her next book, not a random student wanting to…” she holds her breath and looks around us before lowering her voice, “…suck cock for extra credit.”
The flash in her eyes makes my cock pulse and my fist clench. I’m torn between pushing my best friend to her knees and showing her how much fun sucking cock can be and slamming my fist into the professor’s jaw.
I loosen my fingers and force myself to relax. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I’m going to explain the situation and ask for his help,” she says matter-of-factly. “I’ve gone over it in my head hundreds of times. Professor Gibson is an academic. He’ll appreciate an honest, analytical approach.”
She’s so innocent. I want to fuck the dirty into her—show her she’s just as filthy as the characters she writes about.
But that’s not what friends do…
“How’s that going to go?” My voice is light and teasing to hide my growing arousal. “Excuse me, Professor, can you put your dick in my pussy so I can write about it? Why yes, Lacey, bend over the desk and flip up your skirt; I can mark your paper simultaneously. A+ for effort.”
She punches me playfully on the shoulder, laughing. “Stop being a jerk. I’m good at sex on paper, not real life.”
Impossible. “All you have to do is show up and the guy will be ready to blow.”
Her cheeks turn pink at the compliment.
“It’s going to work.” She stands with confidence, but the tremble in her voice is still there. “It has to.”
How does she not see how perfect she is? There is no way anyone could ever turn her down.
My chest pulls in a way I don’t like. After my reaction to her decision, I need to do better. I loop my arm over her shoulder and lead her into the building. “Time to get your seduction on.”
She sits through the lecture like a studious student taking notes, but the hair twisting around her fingers gives away her nerves.
This morning’s coffee is churning in my gut, hinting at mine.
Will they fuck in her bed or his? On the desk?
An image hits me: Lacey’s breast spilling out of her blouse, her back arching off the wood as the professor’s head dips between her thighs.
My mouth waters, wanting her taste on my tongue.
I cross one leg over my knee and discreetly adjust my growing erection. Picturing Lacey with the professor shouldn’t make me hard, but thinking about Lacey in any position makes my cock take control.
The lecture ends, and students begin filing out of the room, but Lacey hesitates.
Every instinct demands I turn caveman, throw her over my shoulder, and drag her away to protect her. We can go back to how things were before I put the stupid idea in her—me satiating my never-ending lust every night with a nameless face and then coming home to the only one who mattered.
But she needs to be the leading lady of her own story.
I grip the back of her neck, giving in to the need to touch her and stroking the soft skin beneath her ear. “You’ve got this.”
She nods, a fiery determination behind her eyes.
I swallow the tightness in my throat and watch as she slowly makes her way down the stairs toward the professor.
Walking out of the room, I leave them alone and hide behind the open door only to peer through the crack and spy like an infatuated stalker.
She clutches her laptop to her chest, pushing her breasts up until they are enticing mounds at the base of her neck. I’d believe it was a deliberate part of the seduction if it were anyone else. Not Lacey. She’s all innocence—seducing without even trying.
The professor doesn’t stand a chance.
My irritation is back.
She smiles, and they speak—for less than a minute. He hands her a sheet of paper.
That’s weird.
She gives him a quick wave, then walks—stiff-shouldered—into the hall. Seeing me by the door, she turns to face the wall and smacks her forehead onto it. “I asked for a course outline.”
She waves the sheet toward me.
The surge of instant relief coursing through me makes me feel like an asshole.
I tug her away from the wall and wrap my arms around her. “If you ask for what you want, no one will ever turn you down.”
Her nails drag across my shirt, then slip beneath it and settle on the bare skin of my back. Her touch is like silken daggers, torturing and pleasuring all at once.
She snuggles closer to me, and I tighten my hold on her, ready to spend the rest of the day—or my life—just like this.
I press my nose to her hair and breathe in the familiar peony scent of her shampoo, reminding me of late-night showers when movie nights at her place are too much for my willpower.
Lathering my cock in her scent always makes me come like a horny schoolboy, painting the tiles of her shower within seconds.
She slips out of my embrace, my body instantly cold until she wraps my arm around her shoulders and leads us across campus.
“Do you think…” she begins.
“Do I think what?”
“Can I go out with you tonight?”
“You don’t have to ask.” I laugh. “We can grab a drink anytime.”
My relief grows. Has she changed her mind? Can we go back to late-night masturbatory phone calls so I never have to share her with anyone?
We stop outside of the building where Lacey’s next class is.
She pulls away from me, looking a little pink in the cheeks. “I mean, can I go out with you and maybe… watch you in action and get some pointers?”
My dick is like steel behind my zipper. “You want to watch me fuck in person?”
Fuck yes.
I may not have admitted it to myself when I video called her, but I pictured Lacey in that room with me, watching… participating.
Will she let me watch her with the professor too? Lacey being with someone else wouldn’t feel like a knife sticking in my gut if I was with her.
My pulse dances through my veins in an exciting rhythm.
Her pupils dilate until her irises are thin strips of surprised blue. Her mouth pops open with the sexiest little gasp that goes straight to my aching cock. “That’s not what I mean.”
Her tongue pokes out, wetting her lips before she gulps, making my thoughts more pornographic.
“I mean, can I watch you… flirting with someone at a bar?”
Disappointment crushes every depraved fantasy I’d conjured, and the knife in my gut twists until I’m a gnarled, ugly ball of scar tissue on the inside.
Lacey may write cock-hardening scenes, but she is as sweet and nervous as a butterfly with brand new wings. She’s not interested in me and my indecent fantasies and predilections.
What was I thinking? I’m supposed to keep my distance, maintain boundaries and not screw up the best relationship I’ve ever had.
Her big blue eyes look sincere, eager and trusting. It breaks something inside of me.
I’d do anything for my Lovely Lacey.
I’ll take her out tonight. She can listen to my worst pickup lines or watch me shoot a load into a waiting mouth on video.
But every drop is hers—always. “Sure. Let’s go out.”