Ryan is quiet in the car the whole ride back to the house. Neither of us were in the mood for ice cream when we left the beach. Then it started to rain the minute we got in the car. Now I’m just sitting in this oppressive silence, the only sound the faint squeak of the windshield wipers and the soft patter of the rain on the roof.
I hate that I ruined this night for him. We were supposed to be celebrating him, not rehashing all my bullshit. But I wanted to kiss him, and I know he wanted to kiss me back, and I just felt like I couldn’t go there with the weight of an elephant sitting on my chest. I hate secrets. I’m no good at them. And I don’t use people. Even just the thought of using Ryan feels like enough of a betrayal—of him as my friend, of myself and my principles.
Admitting the truth out loud, I feel gross, like I need a shower to scrub all the negative energy away. But he deserved to know, and I stand by my decision to tell him, even with my shitty timing. He deserves to make whatever decisions he needs to make now.
I drive us all the way home and practically moan with relief as I jerk the car into park. We open our doors at the same time and climb out. He moves with his stiff gait towards the front door, keys jangling as he pulls them from his pocket.
I follow wordlessly behind him, my discarded heels in my hand. I take in his frame, cast in shadow by the porch light. Are we just never going to speak again? The silent treatment is a fate worse than death for a Gemini.
He opens the door and steps back, wordlessly gesturing to let me in.
Oh, fuck this. I’m going straight to my room and drawing a bath in that big soaking tub. Then I’m going to dunk my head under the water and scream. I step past him, saying nothing. Behind me, the door shuts. The bolt clicks.
“Tess.”
I pause, heart in my throat, as I hear my name spoken from his lips. One word. Slowly, I turn. He’s still facing the door, one hand pressed against it. “What?”
His hand drops to his side as he turns too, his heated gaze setting me on fire with a look. The keys drop from his hand to the floor with a loud clatter. “Use me.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
My mouth is suddenly dry. “Ryan—”
“But we’re changing the rules of the game,” he says, taking a step closer. “Old rules said you used me to make your ex jealous. Well, fuck him,” he curses, his eyes flashing with anger. “He doesn’t deserve one more moment of your precious time or consideration. We’re playing this game with new rules. There’s only one, actually: Use me to feel good.”
My heart skips. “Ryan, this is…”
He takes a step closer, both hands going to the bottom of his powder blue sweater. He pulls it off and drops it to the floor, his blond curls mussed. “Do you want to feel good, Tess?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I admit.
His hands are working the buttons of his shirt from the top down, exposing his tanned chest. “Does your pussy have teeth? I didn’t feel any before…not that I got much time to explore.”
I bite my lip to keep from smiling. This is crazy. This is such a huge mistake. “No, it doesn’t have teeth.”
“Good, because I’d like to taste you with my tongue, and I want to survive in one piece,” he says with a smile.
“Ryan—”
He stops, his green eyes locked on me. “All I thought about the whole ride home was how beautiful you are in that dress and how much I want to fuck you in it.”
And now my heart has stopped. I can’t think. Can’t hold thoughts. I can only feel. And what I feel is a sense of deep, aching want.
He jerks his shirt loose from his pants, flashing me his washboard abs. Then he does the sexy man move of working open his wrist buttons. Fuck, I go weak for a man removing his cufflinks. It’s probably the sexiest article in a man’s wardrobe. Ryan’s not wearing cufflinks, but the visual is the same, and the kitty is officially purring.
He drops the crisp, white shirt from his shoulders, and now he’s standing in just his jeans and shoes. Oh, this beach puppy isn’t lost at all. He knows exactly where he’s going tonight.
He stops right in front of me, close enough to reach out and touch. “The rules are simple: We’re friends who fuck to feel good. You can’t offer more. I’m not taking more. I’m asking you, as your friend, if you’d like to orgasm on my face. Say yes, and I’ll even let you pick which episode of SOA we watch after.”
Oh my god, I’m dead. Here lies Tess, passed away from too much sexual tension.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I repeat. “Your knee,” I add, glancing down.
He reaches out a hand, his fingers gentle under my chin as he tips my face up. “I made you an offer. Come on, Lawyer Tess. I thought this was foreplay for you,” he adds with a teasing smile. “The terms are simple enough for you to understand, right? Orgasms, then SOA.”
“This is crazy,” I say out loud. My clutch is still tucked under my arm, my discarded heels in hand.
“Yes or no, Tess.”
Holding his gaze, I lift my free hand, trailing the tips of my fingers over his skin from his wrist to his elbow. I watch his expression heat as he clenches his jaw, holding himself back. He wants me. He’s burning up with the need to touch me, please me. This is all inevitable, right? I blame Mercury. The Virgo and the Gemini, we were always meant to collide.
I drop my heels and clutch to the floor, not caring where they land. “Yes.”
My soft word of assent, spoken into the heated space between us, drops like a lit match onto a haystack. The flames of our passion erupt, and then we’re in each other’s arms. Our bodies press together, and he groans, muttering a curse. The hand at my chin wraps around my nape and tips back my head, his fingers digging into my hair. I feel that delicious sting of his pull, and my lips part for him. He crashes his needy mouth against mine.
We haven’t even made it past the entryway. We stand here, entwined together, our hands working feverishly to touch and caress. I love the feel of him in my arms. He’s strong but gentle, his hands guiding me where he wants me to go. I flow with him, dropping my hands down to his hips so he can cup my face. Then his hands travel lower, fingertips brushing my exposed breasts before he’s cupping them over the tulle.
“I didn’t even want to go out tonight,” he says against my lips. “I wanted to sit on the couch with you in this dress and fuck you ’til your cheeks turned as bright as these cherries.”
“God, do it,” I moan, breaking our kiss and tipping my neck back in invitation.
He takes it, sinking his open mouth onto my fevered skin. He sucks and teases my pulse point, the sensation traveling straight through my body and zapping me in the clit. I suppress a shiver, working my fingertips along the top of his jeans until I’m slipping them inside to cup his firm ass.
He groans, dropping his face lower to kiss the swell of my breasts. “I need to taste you again. Tess, I want a taste—”
“Do it,” I say again.
Not waiting to be told a third time, he grips me by the arms and pushes me up against the wall. I gasp, head bumping, as he presses into me with his hips, claiming all my air in another fierce kiss. My hands go to his hair as I scrape my nails along his scalp, which earns me a groan of approval.
“Spread your legs,” he says against my lips. His right hand drops down, working the tulle at the bottom of my dress.
I shift my weight, widening my stance as he shifts too, his hip pressing into mine as he makes way for his hand. I can feel the hard length of his erection. I want to touch him, but he seems singularly focused on my pleasure first and, hey, I’m never one to complain.
He breaks our kiss, his forehead pressed against my temple as we pant for air. “What color are your—” He goes still, and I know why. I smile like a Cheshire Cat as I feel his fingers brush over my bare pussy. His body coils tight. “Tess…where are your goddamn panties?”
His tone sends my core fluttering as I give him a fake innocent look. “I didn’t think I needed any with this outfit.”
He swoops down to kiss me again, biting at my bottom lip with a sound somewhere between a groan and growl. “Are you trying to kill me here?”
“No, I’m trying to get that tongue-fucking you promised me,” I tease.
“Fuck, you’re trouble,” he says against my lips. “You drive me crazy.” As he speaks, he flips his hand and rubs it over my pussy, cupping me.
I gasp, pressing my hips forward, desperate for more friction.
His fingers delve between my slick folds. “God, Tess, you’re so fucking wet.”
I bite my lip, head tipped back, as I sink into the feeling of him touching me. He circles my clit, sending the warmth spiraling out across my hips. I hum low in my throat. “That feels good.”
He dips his fingers back inside me, drawing out more of my arousal to tease my clit. “What do you like?” he asks, peppering kisses down my neck. “What makes you feel good?”
“Mmm—I—I hate having my ears kissed,” I admit, distracted by his perfectly pleasurable shoulder kisses. “And don’t you dare touch my feet with anything but your hands.”
“Same.” He kisses up my neck, avoiding my ear. “No feet for me. Hard pass. And don’t tickle me either.”
I go still in his arms, opening my eyes to glance up at him.
He goes still too, his fingers still inside me.
“Tickle you?” I say with a raised brow, fighting to contain my smile.
“Yeah, a girl thought it was foreplay or something,” he replies. “I fucking hated it.”
I laugh. “Noted. Hey, Ryan?”
“Hmm?”
“Keep teasing my pussy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he teases, and I laugh out loud. My mind is instantly flooded with images of the day we met on the beach, and he hit me with that damn soccer ball. He called me ‘ma’am’ then, too, and Rachel and I teased him.
I sink back against the wall, letting the waves of warmth wash over me as he works me with his fingers and thumb, alternating between pumping inside me and massaging my needy clit. It feels wonderful, but I need more. I sigh, brushing my hands through his hair as I steal another kiss. “That feels amazing…but I think I’ll need your mouth to come.”
“Say no more,” he replies, pecking my lips before he drops down on his good knee, his bad one bent inside his knee brace.
“Ryan,” I cry, trying to pull on his shoulders. “No—let’s go to the couch or a bed or—”
“If you think I’m going to suffer through an entire night of you in this dress and not get a taste of you just like this, you’re fucking crazy,” he says, already bunching the tulle with both hands.
“But—”
“Woman, let me work,” he shouts. “I will take you to the couch and finish you there. And if you’re very good, we may just end in the bed. But I’m tasting you right here, right now, before I quite literally die of thirst. Now, spread your legs and hold onto something.”
I’m smiling from ear to ear as I fling a hand out, reaching for the edge of the console table. I gasp, my grip on it tightening as Ryan ducks under the tulle skirt, his head disappearing beneath the pink fabric dotted with cherries.
“Ryan—”
He presses his face against my pussy with a hungry groan and I melt. He hasn’t even touched me with his mouth, and I already have jelly legs as he peppers kisses across my thighs and belly, his fingers still working my clit.
I gasp again as I feel him part me with two fingers and flick his tongue against my clit. “Oh—fuck,” I whimper, shifting my weight. Exquisite heat flashes through my core, and I instantly feel wetter. He’ll have me dripping by the end. I only pray I can relax enough to come.
He hums against my pussy, teasing with his tongue, spreading me wider to lick along my slit. “You taste so fucking good,” he says, his breath hot against my skin.
One hand grips the console table and I drop the other down to his head, hidden beneath the tulle of my skirt. “God, that feels good,” I say, my head tipped back.
His right hand continues to hold me open so his mouth can play. His left traces patterns up my thigh, circling around to squeeze my ass. He flips his hand around, his middle finger spearing me while his pointer and ring finger hold me open as he sucks on my clit.
“Fuck—god—” I try to hold still. My hips want to grind. I want more friction. “Ryan, baby, please…”
“What do you need?”
“More.”
He kisses my pussy one more time, and then he’s ducking out from under my skirt and climbing to his feet. My hands smooth down his chest to his stomach and land on his jeans as I pull him closer, tipping my head up in invitation.
He leans down, his glossy lips parted like he means to kiss me. Remembering himself, he pauses, sucking in a breath, eyes locked on me. “Is this okay? Can I kiss you?”
I smirk, tipping up on my toes to reach him better. “I’m bi, remember? I love the taste of pussy too.”
His brain short circuits as he processes that new information, and then he’s smiling, a flash of hunger in his eyes. “Fuck, why is that so hot to imagine?”
I laugh, kissing my taste off his lips. “Let’s work up to the girl-on-girl action. Right now, I need you to finish me, Ryan.”
He digs his hand in my hair, pulling me back to break our kiss. We’re both breathless as he gazes down at me. “Go to the couch.”
He lets me go, and I slip around him, the tulle of my skirt swishing as I walk into the living room, my eager puppy walking right at my heels. I like our chemistry with this too, the natural push and pull. He’s dominant but responsive, curious, thoughtful. We’re turning sex into a conversation, and like all our conversations, it feels easy and natural. It’s like we were made to speak each other’s language.
I step between the chair and the coffee table, moving over to the couch. I sink down on it, and he immediately follows, turning to me at once, his hands going to my skirt as he bunches up the tulle again.
“Lie back,” he says against my lips, still teasing me with kisses. “Spread these legs for me. You want me to go fast or slow?”
I shift, tipping backwards towards the end of the couch as he helps me bend my leg up and around. He guides me by the ankle, tucking my leg in against the couch so he’s sitting between my spread thighs. My other leg drops off the side of the couch, foot flat on the floor.
His hands smooth over my bare knees as he smiles down at me. “Lift this skirt for me. Show me where you want me.”
I’m loving his quiet, bossy tone. So methodical, so patient. It’s turning me all the way on. I grab for the tulle around my hips, scrunching it up, loving the silky flow of it pooling around me as I expose my thighs to him.
His hands rise with each inch of exposed skin, fingers splayed against me until he reaches my hips. “Beautiful,” he says, dropping his gaze down my body from my flushed face to my pussy.
I hold the tulle back with one hand as I drop the other between my legs, dipping my fingers into my entrance. I sigh, sinking back against the pillow as Ryan watches me touch myself with hunger in his eyes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says.
Desire pools in my core as I arch my hips, spreading myself wide for him. I’m basking in his focused attention. He’s not missing a thing.
“You like it slow like that?” he says, watching me tease my clit.
“Sometimes,” I reply, dipping two fingers back inside. “And sometimes I like it hard and fast. I like getting fucked, Ryan. I like friction and the feel of a man’s body on top of me, weighing me down, owning me.” I watch his expression and know he wants me to keep talking. He’s my processor, my planner. He’s logging this all away.
I smile, reaching for his hand. “Fuck my cunt while I tease my clit.”
He obliges, his left hand holding firm to my hip as he sinks two fingers inside me, curling his hand around to rub his fingers along my inner wall. The combination of both our hands on me has me sinking into bliss. Yes, this. More of this. Then his tongue. Then euphoria.
“What else?” he asks.
“I like doggy style,” I reply. “And anal—oooh, and doggy style with anal. Fuck, that’s amazing. Especially if the toy in my ass buzzes.”
He blinks down at me. “You like toys in your ass?”
I smile, dipping my fingers lower to brush against his. “Mhmm. I love toys. Didn’t you see my collection the other night?”
“You know I did,” he replies, his gaze locked on my pussy.
“Mhmm. You don’t miss a thing.” Arching my back a bit, I slip two fingers in with Ryan’s, loving the feeling of fullness.
“Fuck,” he says, holding his fingers still inside me.
“Toys are amazing,” I go on, sinking deeper into my building orgasm. “They treat you to sensations that are entirely new. But I don’t need to tell you that, right?” I gaze down my body at him, willing him to look at me. “You said you like toys too.”
It only takes a beat of silence before he curses and pulls away, his fingers slipping free of my cunt. “Fuck,” he mutters, sitting back. “I lied, okay?”
I control my features. “You lied? About what?”
“I’ve never used toys before. It’s never—I—it’s just never come up,” he admits, a faint blush staining his cheeks.
“I know,” I reply.
He glances sharply over at me. “What? How can you know?”
“Because I’m good at reading people,” I reply. “I read the lie on you the moment you said it. But would you like to try toys sometime? Do you want to know the life-changing magic of fucking a girl doggy style while she has a vibrating dildo in her ass?”
“Jesus,” he says on a laugh, tearing his gaze away with a shake of his head. “You are too much for me.”
“Oh, don’t say that now, puppy. We were just getting started.”
His gaze darts back to me. “Are you ever gonna cool it with the ‘puppy’ crap?”
I smirk, my hand going back to my clit. “Do you want me to stop calling you that?”
He considers for a second before he’s smirking too. “No. But just between us, okay?”
“Okay. Can this stay just between us too?”
He raises a brow at me. “Can what stay?”
I hold his gaze. “The fact that I want your dick in my mouth. I told Troy you gagged me with your monster cock and choked me on your cum. I’d really like for that to be true. It feels like the journey I’m meant to take tonight.”
Now he’s the one smirking. “That’s what you told him happened between us?”
I nod.
He considers again. “Well, we can’t have you living a lie, now can we?”
“My thoughts exactly.”
He leans between my spread legs, his arm bracing the back of the couch as he presses his weight against me. I arch up enough that our lips touch in a gentle kiss. He pulls away first and speaks against my lips, “But first I’m eating your pussy until you come on my face.”
