Chapter 3 #2
Standing, I plunge in just in time for her to clench around me, prolonging her orgasm so her pussy flutters around my dick.
With a powerful thrust, I smack her right cheek, the hardest yet, and a deep pink blooms on her skin.
It lingers as my fingers dig into her hips.
I fuck my girl, dragging my cock out then shoving it back into her wet heat, and the slapping of skin against skin takes over the room.
Whimpers and moans follow, but I couldn’t tell you which are hers and which are mine.
“Do you like that?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Her throaty whine makes my dick throb, tension building fast at the bottom of my spine.
“You gonna come again for me, baby?”
“I can’t,” she breathes, voice muffled against the cushions.
“That’s not okay, Robyn.” I pull out, and she whimpers. My precum and her pleasure stretch between her core and my cock in a long thread that keeps us connected and turns me on even more. “Lay on the couch. Face down.”
She turns her head to the side as she repositions, and I drop to my knees to kiss her, slow and deep. Her tongue meets mine, and she tugs me closer and pinches my left nipple. Her breathing is ragged when I break the kiss.
I lay halfway over her, one leg extended over hers, and the other braced on the floor. She shifts her hips up a bit, seeking the angles we need so our bodies become one with pleasure. Sliding my right hand under her, I circle her clit again, and once she moans, I thrust back into her.
It’s not deep, but I hit exactly where she needs it, right behind her clit. I control the pace, dragging it out until the teasing and the spanking have me too close. I need her to come fast.
“That’s so fucking good,” she mutters into the couch.
“Tell me how much you like it.”
I push in as deep as I can, and her whimper breaks into a sob. “You feel so thick like this. The ridge of your head keeps sliding in and out, and it’s—”
I flick her clit and pinch it between my thumb and middle finger while rubbing her slow and precise with my index finger. She screams my name, and I smack her ass one last time as she clenches around me. I speed up, then grab her hips, lifting her just enough to go deeper.
There’s no rhythm now—just back and forth until my hips jerk, my vision whites out, and “Robyn” leaves my lips as I spill inside her.
In the living room, we’re sitting on the floor around Robyn’s coffee table. She wraps her lips around the fork and moans, too close to what she sounds like when it’s my cock on her lips.
I clear my throat. “You sure you don’t want to come for a bit? I’d leave whenever you need to go and give you a ride to the hospital. Get you there long before your night shift.”
She shakes her head and swallows. “I really can’t, Nate. I’m still getting used to this schedule …”
Aren’t we all? I shake the intrusive thought away.
“… hard enough the first six months when I was doing rotations and relearning every angle of neurological diagnosis. Now that I’m part of the Complex Diagnostics team—”
“Okay, I’ll just miss you.”
“You’ll come over?” She smiles at me. “So I can crawl in bed next to you?”
“Of course, baby.”
Just in time for you to see me off to my job. The bitterness doesn’t catch me off guard anymore, but I force myself to discard it as I scratch the back of my hand and stand. “I should get going then. I might as well help Tessa with this outlet that isn’t working at her place.”
Robyn arches her brow. “An outlet? Why doesn’t she call management?”
I hitch one of my shoulders. “I’m really not sure, but I don’t mind helping her. Do you mind if I help her?”
“Of course not. She just … seems to need a lot of help, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I guess she isn’t as cool as my girlfriend.” I smirk and lean over to kiss her. “See you later, sweets.”
“See you later, babe.”
With that, I leave, heading to meet up with my friends.
I push the cover until it clicks into place with a soft snap, and flick my eyes to the lamp on the end table.
“There,” I say, sitting back on my heels and looking into her expecting green eyes, “try it now.”
Tessa leans over the couch and flips the switch. The bulb glows, steady and warm.
“Oh, thank God.” She laughs, dropping onto the cushions.
Her gaze flicks back to mine, holding admiration, and my chest swells. We’ve been close since she moved to my tiny hometown at thirteen, and helping her out with math has evolved into helping with little tasks like this.
I push to my feet and wipe my hands on my jeans, taking a second to glance around the apartment.
The place is starting to look lived in. A low media console—the one I assembled—sits against the wall.
The floating shelves I hung last week look good decorated with a line of framed photos from our high school and college years.
The coffee table is the one Tessa asked me to get off Marketplace and haul up three flights of stairs.
Tessa follows my gaze and grins. “Pretty good, right?”
“Yeah. Not bad.”
She hops up from the couch and wanders into the kitchen. “Want a beer?”
I shake my head, leaning against the back of the couch. “No. I’m driving tonight, so I’ll just have one or two at the bar.”
“Responsible,” she teases, popping the cap off one for herself. “What happened to the reckless guy I knew in college?”
I shrug. “I graduated, grew up.”
She takes a sip, then gestures around the room with the bottle. “Seriously, though. Thank you for helping me with all this. I know I could’ve just called management.”
I chuckle. “That’s what Robyn said.”
Tessa’s eyebrows lift a little. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” I grin, shrugging my shoulder.
“Is your girlfriend cool with us?” Tessa asks, sitting on the other end of the couch. “Especially now that I’m living here?”
“Of course, she has a male bestie of her own.”
Tessa tilts her head, studying me over the rim of the bottle. “But would Robyn call her bestie to fix her stuff?”
I huff out a laugh. “Robyn?” I shake my head. “Fuck no. She’d call the landlord or pay someone.”
Tessa’s eyes sharpen. “Oh?”
“Robyn’s a city girl,” I say, pushing away from the couch and stretching my shoulders. “Only child. Her father lives abroad. Sent her to boarding school when she was a teen. She was raised to handle things herself—and she does. Back in Rockton, we were taught to lend help to any neighbor.”
Tessa hums, considering that. “Well … that’s interesting.”
I glance at her.
“Not the type of woman I would’ve pictured you with.”
“Why do you say that?”
She shrugs, but it’s a little too casual. “Well … because, you know.” She gestures between us. “You’re friends with me.”
I blink.
“And I really think you like helping me,” she adds.
“I … do, but what does that have to do with my girlfriend?”
She shifts her weight, crossing one ankle over the other. The light from the lamp catches her pale-blonde hair that’s resting over one shoulder in straight strands.
“Well … it’s not just that. It’s also the thing with your dad.”
I straighten. “Tess, my father leaving has nothing to do with who I love.”
She eyes me, pupils blown and eating up the dark green of her irises. “You love her?”
“Of course I do.” My voice came out sharper than I meant it to. “What’s this about?”
She just stares at me, then waves a hand, forcing a laugh. “Sorry, sorry. Forget I said anything.” She sets the beer down and moves toward the hallway. “You should head out. I’ll meet you at the bar.”
This time around, her eyes don’t meet mine. Tessa’s always been blunt, sometimes too blunt, but that question—you love her?—sits oddly in my chest.
Maybe she’s just curious. We haven’t seen each other much since we finished undergrad and she moved away. I didn’t have a serious girlfriend before Robyn. Before Robyn—br—I only went on dates with girls, sometimes for one or two months at a time.
Heading into her bedroom, her voice trails from there. “The bar’s walking distance, right?” she asks.
I roll my eyes. Same old Tessa. “How have you still not figured out Chicago distances?”
She peeks around the doorframe and sticks her tongue out at me.
I shake my head, grabbing my keys from the table. For all her bravado, she’s always been a little helpless with practical stuff. That hasn’t changed.
“Come on, finish getting ready. I’ll give you a ride there and back.”
Her face brightens immediately.
She flutters her eyelashes at me, and I laugh. “What would I do without you, Nate?”
I shake my head, fishing my phone out of my pocket to check the time as I head for the door.
Robyn: I’m starting my shift. Love you!
I miss you. But I only type “love you too!”
The night pulsates with that particular buzz that only happens when you’re around people who know you completely.
My friends from undergrad and I have been sneaking into this bar since we were nineteen.
The jokes have changed as much as the playlists, some new additions here and there, but the greatest hits still play on repeat.
For a few hours, we travel back in time to being college kids trying to find our footing, our people, our rhythm.
Maybe it’s because we haven’t all been together in years—some moved back home after college, some got swept into even bigger cities—but tonight, time stretches out in front of us again instead of pressing down, giving us the sense that there’s enough of it.
I pull over by Tessa’s apartment complex and turn to look at my best friend.
She sits in the passenger seat, feet tucked up the way she used to do in my mom’s car.
Her straight, champagne hair falls over her shoulders, catching bits of streetlight.
Those green eyes are bright and wide, streaks of gray and green, almost alternating.
She’s laughing about how she still can’t believe I’ve “gone respectable.” Big-time architect at a big-name firm in the city of daring architecture. There’s nothing self-conscious about the way she chuckles.
I lean against the driver’s door to observe her unguarded expression. “Everyone in our group keeps leaving, I can’t believe you moved back.”
She leans her head against the window, watching the empty street. “Yeah. Guess I missed the city. Missed everyone.” Her gaze lands on me. “Missed you.”
There’s a beat of quiet. A slow, familiar smile—maybe too tender at the corner.
“Don’t get sentimental on me now,” I joke, fidgeting with the buttons on the dashboard.
Her grin deepens. “You always were terrible at reading the room.”
Before I can ask what she means, she leans across the console, wraps her hand around my neck, and pulls me toward her.
Our noses brush, breath mingling, goosebumps racing up my spine.
Her hair brushes my cheek, and we look at each other for a heartbeat.
The green overpowers all other color in her eyes, and they’re darker than I’ve ever seen them.
Then her lips find mine.
It isn’t quick or friendly. There’s a deliberate slowness in the way her mouth moves, the faint press of her tongue against my bottom lip before she slips it in, tasting, teasing, sure of herself.
My body reacts before my brain does, and my hand goes around her waist—misguided instinct.
She tightens her grip in my hair, and we’re both in it, mouths moving, tongues clashing.
The wrongness hits then. The pressure of her tongue—too insistent.
The shape of her lips—full but not full enough.
The taste—cherries and beer.
Not Robyn’s coconut lip balm or the dry tang of her favorite white wine.
I jerk back, breath sharp, pulse thudding in my ears. Our foreheads bump, her breath still ghosting my mouth. She giggles, a small, satisfied sound that makes my stomach turn.
“What the hell, Tess?”
She’s smiling, eyes glinting under the dashboard light. Then I notice her phone wedged between us.
“What—Wait, are you recording?”
She blinks, then throws her hands up like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Surprise!” She wiggles, jazz hands flaring, still halfway across the console, thigh pressed against mine. When did she even get there?
“It’s just a trend,” she says, voice bright, as if that explains everything. “Hashtag: KissingMyBestFriend. It’s huge on social media these days.” She shrugs. “Chill, Nate.”
My heart slams against my ribcage. “Are you saying that’s live? Tessa, what the fuck? You know I have a girlfriend. Robyn’s going to lose her—”
“Jeez, relax.” She huffs, swiping at the phone with one hand, the other brushing my shoulder. “I didn’t post it!” Her laugh bubbles up like the whole thing is ridiculous. “It’s harmless. Has a million tags. I thought it’d be funny. No harm, no foul, right?”
I shove myself back against the door, chest tightening. Suddenly, the small cabin of my sedan feels suffocating. It smells of some citrus scent that isn’t mine or Robyn’s. My pulse is all wonky, my thoughts scattered.
I stare at her for a long second, trying to decide if I imagined that flicker of annoyance behind her smile.
She tucks her phone into her bag and gives me the same soft look from before, then slides back onto the passenger seat, gathering her purse and phone.
Her shoulder brushes mine enough to make me aware of the warmth.
She seems unbothered, but how do I tell Robyn that my best friend kissed me and I didn’t push her away? That’s not nothing.
“Look, Nate.” Her gaze lands on me—bright, uncomplicated green, no hint of the darker shade from before. “It’s a joke. I didn’t think it through. I’ll talk to your girl if you want me to.”
Would Robyn even think that’s better? They’ve met only twice in passing, and there wasn’t animosity, but they never clicked.
“Or …” She tilts her head when my phone vibrates with a text, a faint smile tugging at her lips, and a loose strand of hair brushes my arm as she shifts.
“You know, what she doesn’t know, can’t hurt her.
” She pushes the door open, leaving the ball in my court, like she couldn’t care less what I do next.
And she can’t care the way I do.
She disappears up the stairs, and the scent of her hair and the faint warmth of where she sat lingers. I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles ache, pulse hammering in my throat. The cabin is too small, too quiet. Nothing happened. It’s better this way.
But the memory of her mouth—the press of her lips, the subtle warmth of her proximity— remains. It sticks in my chest, and more than the guilt or the cursing or worrying about Robyn, I want to shake the taste off, yet I can’t.