He smiles and nods, his nose nuzzling mine. “We can make it sizzle if we try harder.”
I nod but hesitate. “Should we?”
“We could.” He swallows hard, and his eyes display the reluctance I also feel.
“We could try.” I lick my lips and witness Rett’s pupils dilate.
“Fuck me,” he groans, then crashes his lips to mine again.
Within seconds, I’m crawling across his lap, wrapping my arms around Rett’s shoulders, and succumbing to the pent-up emotions and attraction I’ve held back since that summer before we moved in together.
Rett
There she is, making our lunches in nothing but an oversized T-shirt, and I can barely contain myself as I watch her humming to some song in an off-tune manner.
Kissing Johanna is like breathing—a necessity—or so I’ve discovered.
Aside from some heavy petting, we didn’t cross the line. I sort of like the fact that despite how long we both felt something for one another, we were able to savor our attention, keeping the more intimate stuff for later.
Not much later.
I have a plan, and tonight I hope she’ll be on board.
Padding across the floor, I sneak in behind Johanna and hug her close to me, reveling in the body shiver that gives way as I nuzzle then kiss the space between her neck and shoulder.
“Don’t make any plans for dinner, babe,” I say. “I’m treating my girl.”
“Do we have to leave the house?” she asks, then cuts the last of the BLT sandwiches, drops the knife, and turns to surround my neck with her arms, pecking me on the mouth.
“Takeout.” I smile.
She smiles with an excited twinkle in her eyes. “Okay.”
I grin, then kiss her nose. “Okay.”
I knocked on the front door even though it’s my home, but it’s all about illusion. Call me crazy, but I felt as though I wanted to have a little fun with Johanna. For some reason, a fact I had long forgotten about her having a crush on the delivery kid in our hometown when we were in high school made its way to the forefront of my memory while I was picking up dinner.
So I’m going with it.
When the door opens, I make like the shy Adonis she thought she was fascinated with, shuffling my feet and barely able to look her in the eye. “Hey, Johanna. Got your food here.” A giggle. “If you ever want to—”
Before I know it, Johanna wraps her hand in my T-shirt, and I can hear some of the material lament its strain with the force as she pulls me inside the house, slams the door, then pushes me against it.
She leans up, so her face is closer to mine, tilting the baseball cap I’m wearing back. “You’re such a dork. A hot dork who surpasses poor Dylan, by the way.” Grabbing the takeout bags, she heads for the kitchen. “Remind me to tell you what made me get over that crush some time.”
“What?” I ask, as I shake the sexual daze out of the way and follow her to the kitchen. “Who?”
“You,” she says, as she begins taking each container out and laying them on the island counter, then moving to the cabinet to pull out a couple of plates. “Our last summer before moving,” she starts. “Your dad got hurt, and you took care of the hay bailing. There you were on the tractor.” She pauses to lick some of the sauce from the beef with broccoli, then fans herself before continuing, “Shirtless, sweaty, that ratty old baseball cap was hanging low over your eyes, and that handsome smile of yours.” She looks my way and smiles. “You had me in the palm of your hand always, but more so right then.”
“Fuck, babe.” I shake my head and grab her hand as she lifts it to her mouth once more, but this time with General Tso Chicken sauce all over it. I stick her finger in my mouth, running my tongue along her digit and watch her eyes dilate. Pulling it out but not releasing her hand, I add, “I wish I could have seen it then, or better yet, said something when things changed for me a while back. We’ve wasted all this time.”
She seems to think about it for a few seconds. “Don’t do that, Rett.” She turns our joined hands and kisses mine. “There’s never a better time than the present.” Nodding toward the extra plate, she smirks. “Let’s eat. You’ll need your energy for what I’ve got in mind later.”
I groan, “Babe, don’t play games with me.”
Grabbing her plate and heading for the dinner table, she turns to look at me over her shoulder and winks. “Oh, I plan on playing, Rett. And you’ll love the game I have in mind.”
Jesus!
Johanna
My body is thrumming with Rett’s ministrations, and he has yet to remove a single stitch of clothing on either of us.
I know we’re ready for this, and because we’ve been frank with one another, we’d probably both admit this next step is long overdue.
“Not here,” Rett raps against my collarbone, then his hands slide from my lower back to my ass as he palms each cheek, then proceeds to stand up with a bit more effort than he would generally exert, thanks to his ribs.
“I can walk,” I say, but I’m so damn horny I don’t feel as guilty as I most definitely should.
“I like you like this,” he whispers, then nips my chin as he leads us to the master bedroom—his bedroom. “You can’t get far. My hands enjoy being filled by that luscious ass of yours, and I can’t wait to get my mouth on those secret places too.”
My forehead crashes to his shoulder. “Rett, this was supposed to be my game,” comes out when the desperation in my voice really means, “I can’t wait. Walk faster.”
“No games, babe, not for our first time,” he says, leaning us down toward his mattress. His grip slips, and with a hiss he dumps me, then drops himself overtop, causing us to laugh. Growing serious, he adds, “It’s just you and me this time.”
I smirk, then let my hands skim over his shirt, grabbing it at his waist. “Then you and me means no clothes, so off with it, mister, so I can ogle you good and proper.”
I swear I can’t take anymore or I’ll pass out.
Hungry.
That’s the best description I can give you about Rett tonight.
I’ve always known that my best friend was a go-getter, but seeing it translated into sex has changed my outlook on the future of my sex life.
I’m sweaty, sated; my body’s buzzing with the aftermath of three orgasms, and I haven’t had the pleasure of receiving his cock yet.
His cock. God! That thing is magnificent. Long, thick, hard, yet velvety smooth—and I would know because I snuck my hand to see what I would have to look forward to—right before he handed me the condom and told me to suit him up. Apparently, Rett has a voyeuristic side to him; duly noted for our future ventures together.
Finally, the moment has arrived. Rett is about to fill me, and where I should feel apprehensive because he’s larger than I’ve ever had, butterflies of excitement are fluttering about in my stomach.
“Eyes up here, babe,” Rett whispers. My gaze does as he commands.
“Rett.”
“Hold on to me.”
I do just that but clench at the back of his head, threading my fingers through his hair, and pulling his face down so I can taste myself on his lips once more.