Adalyn snaps her head in my direction from the term of endearment. Act cool, Emma, just act cool. “Uh, sure.” Right about now I would eat anything with him if it meant I get to see his mouth work back and forth. That’s what it’s come to. I’m pathetic.
“Cool. What about you, Adalyn? Are you staying for dinner?”
She looks down at her phone and cringes. “I wish I could, but I should be getting home soon since this one isn’t studying anymore tonight.”
Tucker raises his brow at me, and Lord help me, my uterus just kicked me in the stomach from how sexy the move was. “No studying, huh? Looks like a night of fun is in our future.” He winks, because why wouldn’t he, and then shuts the door.
I let out a long breath just as Adalyn hits my leg. “He calls you babe? You guys are so fucking.”
“Adalyn,” I snip at her, trying to shut her the hell up. “He can probably still hear you.”
“So, if you’re fucking he already knows about it.”
Leaning forward, I grit between my teeth. “We’re not fucking.” Since I share a wall with the bathroom, I can hear the faucet turn on garnering us a little more privacy. “We’re just friends . . .” My words trail off as I think about that for a moment. Just friends. Honestly, I now desperately wish there was more between the two of us.
“Come on, be straight with me.”
Knowing she won’t leave me alone, I sigh and fall flatter on my bed. “We’re not fucking, but sweet Jesus, I wish we were.”
“I knew it.” Adalyn bounces on her knees with glee.
“It’s been torture, Adalyn. He’s so hot. I mean, it’s obvious he’s good-looking and has a nice body under his clothes, but I’ve seen him with his shirt off, I’ve felt the way his hands feel on a woman’s body. It’s addicting. Every time I’m around him I want him to touch me. I want him to slam me against a wall, spread my legs, and make me come until my voice is hoarse.” I look over at her and say, “And last night didn’t help. I saw him in nothing but a pair of black briefs and I’m going to be honest, I think I almost came just from the sight of him.”
“Oh my God, like Chris Hemsworth good?”
“Yeah, like Chris Hemsworth good, but dare I say, sexier? If that’s even possible.”
“I didn’t think it was possible until I saw Tucker. You lucky girl.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Not lucky at all, because he’s my friend and he once belonged to my best friend, but all I want to do is rip his pants off, tap his penis and say, ‘I have a friend I want you to meet. It’s my vagina; want to have a play date?” Adalyn laughs so loud I think she might have rattled my windows. “Do you know how bad it is? How bad I want him?”
“How bad is it?”
“It’s so bad that I want to stick my pinky finger in his pee hole and say, ‘goochey goo, I want you.’ ”
Adalyn howls in laughter at my expense, her hand clamping over her stomach. “Oh my God. Please do that. I will give you a hundred dollars just to see you stick your finger in his pee hole.”
“Never. I would never ever do that, even though the urge is strong.” Taking a deep breath, I sit up and hold one of my throw pillows to my chest. “I just need to focus on the task at hand. School, graduating, and finding a job. That’s all. I can do this.”
Adalyn starts to gather her items and stands while slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Yeah, good luck with that, Emma. I know if it were me, I would be in that man’s bed faster than you can blink. But that’s just me.”
That is just her. She hasn’t had many years of history with the boy Tucker. She didn’t watch him drool over her best friend for years, or then watch him mourn when things ended. She didn’t know the boy who was so lost and alone when his father died, who desperately needed loving. She didn’t see the empty expression in his eyes the day he showed her his house, or experience the elation of watching her expression when he’d spoiled her with coffee mugs and a couch. Yes, I want to have sex with Tucker, but there are strings we’re balancing on.
Shrugging, she heads to the door and calls out, “See you tomorrow, sweet cheeks. Try to get some sleep, if you can.” She wiggles her eyebrows and takes off.
Get some sleep, ha! The only way I know I’ll get any sleep is if I pull out my little vibrating friend, take care of the thick-dick images in my head, and then pop Tylenol PM down the gullet.
I’m abut to change for the night when my phone chimes. I see the name displayed on the front and groan. Just what I need.
Sadie: Hey girl! I miss you!
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
When was the last time I talked to Sadie? I can’t even remember, before I moved in with Tucker, that’s for damn sure.
Swallowing hard, I reply.
Emma: Hey Sadie, I miss you too.
There, short and simple. Nothing incriminating. Nothing that says, “I know we’re best friends and all, but hey, I’m living with your ex-boyfriend and I can’t stop lusting after him, to the point that if I slipped and fell, my mouth landing on his penis, I would probably start sucking.”
Sadie: Can we get together soon. We need to catch up. We haven’t talked in so long, I feel like a piece of me is missing.
Sweat starts to coat my upper lip as guilt reins down upon me. What would she think if I told her how I was feeling, if she knew I was dreaming about Tucker. She would hate me, I just know it. Tucker was such a big part of her life and for me to step in on her territory, it almost seems unforgiveable.
Emma: I would love to get together. Just let me know the time and place.
I really don’t want to see her which is sad because she’s one of my favorite people, but I’m not sure how much I can hide from her. She reads me like a book and she will see right through my wall.
Sadie: Perfect! I will text you tomorrow about a day. Maybe we can grab coffee.
Emma: Sounds great.
Yeah, sounds great. Not really, but I can’t avoid her, she will know something is up.
Tense and uncomfortable more than ever, I change into my favorite deep purple plaid pajama set, tie my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head, and put some lotion on my hands. I can do this. Of course Tucker is gorgeous, but am I really that undisciplined I can’t live with him in the same house and not think about him? No, I have self-control. I’m an adult for fuck’s sake. I can handle my yearning with dignity. I can stop lusting after this man, this man that belongs to someone else.
Puffing my chest out with my head held high, I open my bedroom door just as the bathroom door opens as well. Billowing steam pours out of the doorway, the bright bathroom light reflects off the pink of the flamingos, casting an angelic type haze over Tucker as he walks out into the hallway, dewy, dreamy, and wearing nothing but a low-slung towel. My heart seizes in my chest, my thighs clench together as I take in his damp, messy hair, his freshly shaved face, and the little droplets running down his chest to the edge of his towel that is barely covering thick dick.
“Oh my God,” I drawl out. And it isn’t until Tucker wickedly grins at me that I realize I said that out loud. Okay, maybe I have ZERO self-control.
“You okay there, babe? You look a little flush.”
I nervously laugh, probably one of the ugliest laughs I’ve ever heard come out of my mouth. “Oh yup. You know . . . uh, oh my God,” I move my hands around, trying to act casual but not pulling it off at all, “Look at all that steam. Ever heard of a fan?”
Smooth, really, really smooth.
Tucker tilts his head to the side and studies me, one of his hands on the knot of his towel. “If I had the fan on, then how could I have possibly heard what you and Adalyn were talking about?”
And just like that, my face heats up, my ears are in a blaze, and my body feels like lava was just poured all over it.
“You heard us?” I whisper. I don’t know why, seems like something I have to whisper, maybe to make it less true.
“Just a little.” He takes a step toward me, wh
ich causes me to back up into the hallway wall. “Something about fucking. What could she possibly be referring to?”
“Guh, you know.” I put my finger to my chin trying to look thoughtful. “I can’t seem to remember exactly what we were talking about.”
“No?” He takes another step closer, the smell of his soap making me feel drunk, hazy, so damn infatuated that it’s hard to stand on my own two feet. “So Adalyn didn’t ask you if we were fucking?”
Gah! Stupid Adalyn and her big stupid mouth.
Playing dumb, I ask, “Did she? Huh, well Adalyn doesn’t seem to have a filter.”
He nods and takes one more step closer, now only a foot between us. He places both his hands on either side of my head, framing me in place, giving me the perfect view of his flexing chest. Sweet mother, may I? Just a little touch, a lick of his nipple, maybe a little bob the apple on his penis.
“What did you say?” The rumble of his voice vibrates through my ribcage, sending my libido into overdrive. He smells too damn good, looks too damn good, and sounds too damn good for any girl to have coherent thoughts.
The space between us evaporates as he brings his face inches from mine making the air feel thick. When he speaks, his breath tickles me, sending me further into a sexual awakening. My entire body throbs with need, with yearning for the irresistible man standing before me.
He enunciates every word when he repeats himself. “What did you say to Adalyn about fucking?”
“Oh yeah, the fucking.” I laugh nervously. “I told her we were not doing the fucking.”
“Did she believe you?”
Unsure of what’s happening, I fidget with the hem of my shirt. Why is he so close? Why does he continue to tempt me like this? Is he trying to drive me crazy?
“She did. You know, we’re honest with each other and everything. Kind of like you and me, acting like adults, telling the truth and all. No need for roommate rules or boundaries.” I swallow hard.
Boundaries, man, we should have set some of those, because right now, Tucker doesn’t understand the common courtesy rule of personal space. I don’t think he’s ever understood that since I moved in.
“Telling the truth, huh?” He licks his lips and bends his head down, which draws my attention to the towel barely hanging on his hips. My heart rate picks up when his eyes meet mine, those sultry, seductive eyes. “Tell me, Emma, when was the last time you fucked someone?”
Everything inside me is aware of his question, of his presence, of the way my clit is throbbing uncontrollably. If he can’t tell by the flush of my face and the sweat breaking out on my skin, it’s been a while.
Continuing to twiddle with my shirt, I answer, “It’s been a bit. I can’t quite remember.”
Tucker nods and brings one of his hands to my face where his thumb runs along my jaw to my mouth. He rubs the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip, tugging it down ever so slightly, his eyes fixed on my mouth.
“And when was the last time you used this mouth for anything other than talking and eating?”
“I . . . I don’t remember.” My breath hitches on me, causing my words to stutter.
Nodding again, Tucker steps in another inch, the heat of his body starting to warm me from the tip of my toes to the top of my head. “Can I ask you one more question?”
I wish he’d press me against the wall and end this horrible burning need I have for him, but I nod instead.
“What if Adalyn asked you, do you want to fuck Tucker, what would you have said?”
His eyes bore into me, slicing me in half. He knows the answer, it has to be written all over my face, displayed in my body language, and in the way I react to his every touch.
Do I tell him? Do I admit my burning crush? Does he even feel the same way? Or is he teasing me, trying to get me to admit something just because he can?
No, that’s not the case. Tucker is not like that. He’s sweet, caring, considerate, sexy, and irresistible. If I tell him I want to fuck him, what would that do to our relationship? Would it ruin everything we built back up over the last few weeks? But what would happen if I didn’t tell him? Would the tension grow so thick that I eventually give in and throw myself at him? At least if I tell him now, I could get it over with and we could have an awkward moment and move on.
Taking a deep breath, I face him head-on and answer his question. “If Adalyn asked me if I want to fuck you, I would have told her yes.”
Slowly, like the Grinch on Christmas morning, a sexy grin takes over his handsome face. I shake in place, waiting, as if my next breath depends on it. Lazily he takes me in, starting at my feet and meeting me at my eyes, when his perusal stops, he says, “Good to know, babe.”
Lifting off the wall, he puts unwanted space between us, and like a cold bucket of water, every ounce of heat building inside me extinguishes when he grips the knot on his towel again and starts to walk away.
He’s got to be kidding me right now.
That’s it?
Not that I wanted anything to happen . . .
He’s not going to do anything about my little confession? A kiss would have been nice, a little diddle against the wall would have been nice. I would have even taken a vag tap with his index finger. Anything really, but instead, he takes off toward his bedroom, taking the steps two at a time before he’s out of my sight.
“What just happened?” I ask myself softly, trying to make sense of it all.
Why the close calls with Tucker, but never anything substantial? Never anything to feed this need to be around him, this need for him to touch me in any way possible. And that little interaction between us only worsened the ache between my legs.
Huffing, I walk into the kitchen and grab a pot to start boiling water. “Jeeze, thanks a lot, jerk.”
Unsatisfied, hornier than ever, and frankly irritated, I put the pot on the stovetop and turn it on. Storming around the kitchen, I take out all the ingredients for dinner, which consists of a box of spaghetti and a jar of sauce, and set them on the counter.
I’m just going to say it; men are stupid. Men are stupid and rude. Men are stupid and rude and teasers. They like to tease your fantasies but never really make them come true. I mean, would it really have hurt Tucker to pull my pants down and stick his dick in me just once? I’m not asking for a whole lot here. Just a little dick to vagina friction accompanied by an orgasm for the ages. I’ve officially lost my mind.
“So stupid.” I cross my arms over my chest just as I hear Tucker come down the stairs. Casually, as if he didn’t just blow my clit up to epic throbbing proportions, he walks in the kitchen, shirtless, wearing a pair of thin plaid pajama pants with his large hand ruffling through his hair.
“Got the water going?”
Don’t show him your anger. Don’t let him know how much he affected you. Be cool, Emma, be cool.
“No, thought it would be fun to boil bleach to see what happens,” I snap sarcastically, exposing my poor attempt at a bluff. Nope, not cool at all.
Knowing fully well I’m irritated, he swaggers toward me—yes, swaggers—his stomach flexing with every movement and with one quick lift, he has me sitting on the counter. Without looking at the stove, he reaches over and turns the burner off, his eyes fixed on me. Parting my legs, he steps in between them and positions himself right in front of me. Once again, my heart rate picks up, my body coming alive from its short hiatus.
I swear if he teases me again, he’s getting a kick to the balls.
Moving in closer, he places his hands on my thighs and says, “You seem tense, babe.”
Ya think? At any moment I’m about to combust from the amount of sexual tension running rampant in my body. To say I’m tense is an understatement.
“Oh I’m just fine,” I lie.
“Doesn’t seem like it.” His hands start to move up my thighs to my waist where he grips tightly and presses himself even closer so there is no space between our bodies. “Seems like there’s something you want to get off your mind.?
??
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I’m just dandy.”
“Dandy, huh?” His hands work their way up my arms now, to my shoulders where they land on my neck. Spread over my collarbones, his thumbs rub the column of my neck as his eyes search mine. “Ask me the question.”
Confused, I ask, “What?”
His thumbs are now caressing my jaw, his head drawing in close, his lips wet and ready. “Ask me if I want to fuck you.”
Oh God, I feel like if he answers the way I want him to, I will orgasm. I’m right there, ready to be pushed over the edge, my clit begging for release.
I take my time and search his eyes, pleading for his answer to be yes. “Tucker,” I pause to take a deep breath, “do you want to fuck me?”
His eyes bounce back and forth over mine, his grip on my face growing tighter. When he speaks, his voice is deep, full of a sensual rumble that takes over every bone and muscle in my body. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since I saw you at the bar with your friends.”
Hnnnnnnng
From his little confession, I clench my legs around him, knowing damn certain that I’m wet, aroused, and beyond ready for him.
Shyly, I look at him through my eyelashes and ask, “What’s taken you so long then?”
He strokes my cheek, heart in his voice. “You deserve more than just a quick fuck.”
I gulp, deciding to throw all my cards on the table. “Sometimes a quick fuck is just what someone needs.” Where is this coming from? What happened to all the guilt, all the knowledge coursing through my mind that this is wrong?
I look into his sultry eyes and know it’s coming from deep within me. No matter how wrong it might be, I can’t help myself. I can’t help but egg him on and see how far I can push him, how far her will take this. If he will actually make a move . . .
He shakes his head. “Nah, not with you, Emma. You’re the kind of girl you spend the night worshipping.”
One of his hands slides to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him where he rests his forehead on mine.
“If that’s the truth, then can I ask you another question?” My breathing isn’t the only erratic one. Before me, Tucker seems to be feeling the same kind of tension I’m feeling with every passing touch of his thumbs.