Two seconds later her body quaked as her eyes closed. Releasing him, she cried out her self-induced orgasm. It was easily the hottest display he’d ever witnessed. So sexy, he had to pinch off his own release at the sound of her climax.
Enough.
Rounding the chair, he snatched up the condom and tore it open with his teeth, gliding it over his engorged flesh. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the chair. As tempting as nailing that alluring ass from behind was, he wanted to look into those eyes some more.
He carried her back to her room and dropped her on the bed. Pulling both ankles, he centered her on the mattress and climbed over her. “Ready?”
“Ready,” she rasped, face soft with sated lust and endless temptation.
He caught his weight on his palms and lined his body up with hers, drew in one last breath, and thrust. His eyes momentarily shut in intense bliss. There would be absolutely no going back now. He slid deep, not stopping until her pelvis kissed his.
She whimpered and his eyes quickly opened.
“You okay?”
Blinking, she swallowed. “You’re bigger than...what I’m used to.”
His ego selfishly swelled. “Do you wanna stop?” Please, God, no.
The briefest shake of her head told him to hold tight. He should have eased back a little, but he couldn’t. She fit him like a glove. He liked being fully inside of her.
The selfish prick that he was, he refused to budge, wanting her body to mold to his and erase the memory of anyone else. He gently touched her cheek as he offered a comforting kiss. “Just take a minute to adjust.”
She nodded and caught her breath. It was intense. He needed a minute, too, if he was expected to last—
“Riley?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re inside of my bajingo right now.”
His thoughts swung like a boomerang in the total opposite direction. Rolling his eyes he started to laugh. “And you think there’s something wrong with me? We’re having a moment, Emma. It’s not the time to use weird names for anatomy.”
“Bunny muff,” she said and snorted.
He shook his head.
“Pink mink,” she chuckled and then fell into a full fit of giggles. “Wizard’s sleeve!”
He withdrew and shoved forward. All humor left her expression. “It’s impolite to laugh the first time a man puts it inside. You’ll give him a complex.”
“Sorry.” She was still smirking, the wench.
He leaned over her, lowering to his elbows so they were intimately face-to-face. He brushed the hair away from her eyes and kissed her lips. As much as they could amuse each other, there was no ignoring the significance of the moment.
“Does it still hurt?” he whispered.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Good.” He sighed as he shifted his hips, his face sliding to that sensitive spot where her shoulder curved into her neck. He breathed her in. Just breathed.
There were countless ways to have sex, yet he couldn’t remember a time more intimate than this one. He could have sat up for deeper penetration, or perhaps done some fancy hip work to increase the pleasure, but neither of them seemed to want to let the other go.
Belly to belly, chest to chest, they rocked slowly, holding each other close. Rising gently, he stared into her eyes as her pupils bloomed and dilated. The entire experience was incomparable to all others. He’d never taken the time to watch a woman the way he studied Emma, never enjoyed watching a woman that much.
Pleasure built like a slow and steady rainfall, washing away all that came before. The longer it lasted, the deeper he fell. They were damp to the tips of their hair and shivering under the intensity of their joining.
It was like a sexual reincarnation, because after sleeping with Emma all other experiences paled. She’d somehow redefined his standards, making them unattainable for all other women.
Her nails scraped over his shoulders as she trembled through another climax, this time triggering his. Pressing his face to the curve of her shoulder, he lost a piece of himself there, inside of her.
She was different. He wasn’t sure what made her so, but being with Emma changed him in ways that could never be undone.
It was the first time, since becoming a man, he could recall having something to fear. As he lay there, trying to recover, one truth became perfectly clear. He could not lose this connection.
Chapter Seven
Still adjusting to the circumstances of pet ownership, Emma awoke to the strange scratching and clatter of Marla racing into the loft from her early morning walk. Chairs squealed as they skidded across the floor and Riley cursed in a hushed hiss.
The sound of his voice twisted a secret smile onto her lips as she hid her blush against the pillow and hugged her belly where all the butterflies played. It actually took effort not to squeal like a thirteen-year-old girl.
Biting her lip, she sighed, remembering the way he touched her, looked at her, made her—for the first time—feel like a hot, red blooded woman.
Two sharp barks and the sound of glass breaking penetrated her dreamy fog. She should probably see if he needed help. Marla was usually a gentle and lazy giant, but once she got excited she was a force to be reckoned with.
“Damn it, Marla. Sit!” A quiet, sympathetic chuckle slipped out at the exasperated tone of his voice. He was the one that insisted they have a dog.
Emma rose and winced as her tender insides protested, reminding her to take it slow. Last night was insane. She never saw that side of herself.
Something about already being friends with Riley and knowing he’d seen her at her worst made her fearless. She took what she wanted without getting hung up on what he might think. There was no fear of consequence and it was liberating and exhilarating and easily the most erotic experience of her life.
The trick—now that the night was over—was surviving and snuffing out any awkwardness. She intended to keep Riley as her friend, which meant she had to keep it together and not freak him out by assuming one hookup meant more than it did.
Yes, he’d shown her what it meant to have mind-blowing sex and she’d never stop being grateful for the experience. He’d taught her more about herself in one night than Becket had taught her over their entire relationship. However, he’d warned her about the dangers of casual sex, many times voicing his concerns that she might not be able to handle such blasé terms.
She needed to handle it. Riley lived in a land of casual, so clearly that’s what this was. She couldn’t allow herself to assume anything more, because that would be the fastest way to destroy their friendship.
Riley never let himself get close to women. It was inevitable that he’d eventually be in someone else’s bed—a thought that already pissed her off. She had to prepare for that, adapt a nonchalant attitude about the whole encounter—keep it light, no pressure. Anticipating his withdrawal from the get-go seemed the wisest move.
Tying her robe, she visited the bathroom then joined him in the kitchen. Marla greeted her first with an inappropriate sniff of her pushy snout. “Hey, boundaries!” Emma shoved the dog away from her crotch.
“She’s wild today,” Riley said and there was that acute pinch of awareness. I saw your penis and you saw my boobies. Annnnd she was regressing to a juvenile idiot.
All she could think was he was all up in my bajingo last night. She didn’t know, exactly, what a bajingo was, but she liked using the term. It was fun to say. Bajingo.
Pasting on her big girl smile, she pretended to be a mature adult and greeted him. “Hi.”
His gaze locked with hers and heat swirled in her belly. “Hi.”
Mmmm, he had a great morning voice, all gravelly and deep. She’d never realized how intense his eyes were, but now...they were potent, capable of wrecking every defense she had. Those eyes, the way they smoldered and pinned her in place, they were lady kryptonite.
She glanced at the counter. “Did you get coffee?”
T
aking advantage of the distraction, she uncapped one of the paper cups and tore open three packets of sugar. Of course he didn’t know how she took her coffee. Why would he? They were only friends.
Her body stilled, pulling taut as he stepped behind her. His arms crossed over her ribs as his face pressed to the curve of her neck. “I didn’t know how you took your coffee.”
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “It’s no big deal. Three sugars and a splash of cream. I—” All thoughts cut off as his hand slid under the lapel of her robe and cupped her breast. “Um.”
“Mmm. You’re so warm.” His lips pressed into the sensitive spot behind her ear.
Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! She stepped out of his hold and faced him, quickly tightening her robe. “What are you doing, Riley?”
His head tilted in confusion. “What do you mean? I was saying good morning.”
“No, you were copping a feel.”
“Is that not allowed? I didn’t get a copy of your rules, so I just assumed...”
She shook her head. “Riley, last night was a one time thing. If we make it a habit things will get messy and end badly. I like you. I like our living situation. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”
“But...we saw each other naked.”
“So?”
He frowned. “Emma, I was inside of you five hours ago.”
Oh, she remembered. The mere mention of it had her knees going weak.
I was inside of you...
What was it about the way he talked that made her so hot? His words were crude and unsophisticated, yet they turned her on. She loved the way he told it like it was. And when he called her a dirty girl... she really liked that.
Because you are dirty.
She cleared her throat and did her best impression of a mature woman. “Riley, I remember, but a one-night-stand is just that. One night.”
He shook his head and frowned. “So that’s it? That’s all this was to you? A one night stand?”
“Was it more to you?” Maybe she’d misjudged him. The dirty girl in her head let out a giddy squeal at the possibility. If that were the case she’d be happy to reassess—
“No. Just sex. I’m glad you see it that way too.”
And that pinch of disappointment after letting herself believe it could be more for only a split second was exactly why she couldn’t go down that road. Tightness contracted inside her chest and her eyes closed. Shit, that feeling sucked. She cursed herself for permitting hope, when she specifically told herself that was against the rules.
Trying not to tremble or show her disappointment, she nodded. “Good. I’m glad we agree.”
Sipping her coffee as a distraction, she winced as it burned her lip. The awkward silence carried on for far too long. And now she was shaking. They hadn’t been awkward all week, and now, since sleeping together, things were more uncomfortable than ever.
What if we’re never the same again? What if he brings a woman to the loft tonight? What if she’s prettier than me and I have to sit around acting unaffected while he flirts and touches her and makes her—
“We need to talk about it!” she blurted.
Riley stilled and set his coffee on the counter. “Okay.”
Taking a deep breath, she settled onto a stool. “Okay. The way I see it, last night was fun for both of us.”
“Agreed.”
“I—Really?” She wasn’t sure if she’d done everything right or on par with his previous experiences.
He laughed. “Really. I had a great time, Emma.”
It was strange, revisiting the encounter and receiving feedback. More impersonal than she’d like, but still, feedback was good. “Good. Okay then. I think we should keep what happened only between us. There’s no reason for anyone else to know and if Rarity found out—”
“Nobody tells Rarity,” he agreed.
Relieved, she went on. “I think if she knew, it would just make things weird and we’re not weird. I mean, I’m not weird. Are you weird? I’m not.”
“Not weird.”
“See, no one’s weird.” Her voice was getting really high pitched. “So, I’d like to go back to the way things were, but still be friends. You know, the way things were after Becket and I broke up, but before all the sex happened. Let’s call that the friend zone. That’s where I want to be. Right there in that zone.” She enunciated by pointing to a sugar packet sitting like an island on the vacant counter.
Riley’s fingers reached for the packet of sugar and trapped hers. “Friends.”
Her breath hitched as he pinned her with that stare again. “Right. Friends.” He might as well be touching her nipple. She pulled her hand away.
“So, if I wanted to toss you over that chair and fuck you from behind, that would be off limits? Outside of ‘the zone’?” The air quotes weren’t really necessary, were they?
She swallowed. “Well, friends don’t really do that.”
“They don’t?”
“I don’t think so.” Friends didn’t sleep together. Come on, Emma! Right, she knew that.
“You sound unsure.”
She was sure, but maybe they could fool around one more time before Rarity got home. No! That’s how things get messy.
He rounded the island until he was standing behind her stool. Refusing to look at him, she focused on the microwave. Without asking permission, his hands slid around her waist and unknotted the tie of her robe.
“Oh God,” she breathed as he parted the lapels.
Cool air tickled her chest as her nipples pulled tight. He didn’t just open her robe. He glided his fingers over her shoulders until the satin fell down her arms and draped over the stool. Hands dangling by her hips, she sat completely naked for his inspection—like friends often do.
His fingers traced down her back, tripping over every notch of her spine. Her shoulders rose as goose bumps chased down her arms and over her legs. No one had ever treated her body so carnally.
Stepping closer, he kissed her shoulder and twisted the stool until she swiveled enough to face him. He parted her knees, making room for his hips and brazenly reached for her nipples.
She watched in awe as his rough fingers pinched the tips, sending sensation shooting through her womb to her sex. She should cover herself. The way she was sitting, her belly was creasing and showing its softness. But Riley didn’t seem to mind. As a matter of fact, he seemed so in tune with her in that moment she was oddly secure in all her feminine flaws.
“Maybe friends touch each other sometimes, Emma. I mean, I’m your friend and I’m clearly playing with your pretty tits right now. How can that be?”
Her lips were dry. So was her throat. The more he touched her the harder it was to think.
“I like seeing my hands on your body.” He released her nipples and guided his palms around her hips. “Counter’s gonna be cold.”
She gasped as he lifted her and squeaked when he set her on the chilled granite. Unsure what he had planned, her breath quickened. I’m sitting on the counter buck-naked!
He went to the fridge and returned a moment later holding a jar of grape jelly. Keeping his eyes on her, he unscrewed the lid with a pop and dipped two fingers into the purple jam.
Holding a good clump of jam on his fingers, he placed the jar on the stool. She flinched the second cold jelly smeared over her belly. The chilled, sticky substance had her sucking in a deep breath and squirming as he painted her skin.
“Lie back.” Carnal curiosity overrode logic and commonsense as she allowed him to ease her toward the counter, gradually laying her down.
Her body jerked and tensed as the chilled granite pressed into her heated shoulders and shocked her lower back. All objections about friends not touching each other disappeared.
She did exactly as he asked; even let him adjust her legs the way he wanted. Any protests silenced as he blew cool air right on her bajingo. Her modesty was gone, yet when he made her the center of his attention, she didn’t really miss it. r />
“Maybe you’re right, Emma,” he said, again dipping his fingers in the jar of jam. “Maybe friends don’t fuck.” She gasped as he painted her breasts. “But I’m pretty sure they eat together. You make me very, very hungry, Emma.”
The counter no longer felt cold as her body heated under his touch. Everything smelled of grapes and sugar as he dragged his sticky fingers over her belly, around her breasts, and down to her sex.
“Look at what a mess I’ve made,” he whispered, tipping the jar over and showing her it was empty. Hoisting himself onto the counter, he braced his arms on either side of her, planting himself directly over her breasts. “Friends help friends when they have a mess on their hands, don’t they?”
She nodded. No one had ever painted her with food before, or paint for that matter. She was sticky and slightly concerned about stains, but more than anything, she wanted him to continue this game.
He held up two purple fingers. “Will you clean them up for me?” He pressed the digits to her mouth and her lips closed around them. Sweet, sugary jam melted on her tongue as she sucked. “Mmm, I love your mouth on me.”
Heat burned low in her belly as he watched her suck his fingers. Gradually, he probed her mouth, gliding those sweet fingers over her tongue. Just as her dirty girl started doing cartwheels he withdrew them with a pop.
In one quick move, he crossed his arms at his hips and stripped off his shirt. She couldn’t see beyond his chest, but sensed him toeing off his shoes. They landed on the floor with two claps.
Her body was on fire as she waited for whatever came next. Lost, she stared at his chest, wondering why she’d never realized how sexy he was. His broad shoulders were smooth and perfectly proportioned for his strong arms. Her palm rested lightly against his cut waist. He might not have had a six-pack, but he was damn close.
Sitting up to undo his pants, she got a chance to admire the play of muscles in his arms. He crawled over her and smiled, that sweet, boyish grin she loved. “You’re all...dirty.”
She was. Five minutes ago she was having a logical discussion about why they should be friends, and now she was sprawled naked on the countertop covered in jam—and loving it. And she was pretty sure she was about to get fucked.