The Friend Zone(69)

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.

He shook his head in the crook of my neck. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

He dragged his face from my neck and looked like he might kiss me, but instead he put his forehead to mine and closed his eyes.

I gave him a breathless smile. “Well, we’re friends with benefits, right?” I said, my lips an inch from his mouth. “This is the friends part.”

And I missed you. Couldn’t stand not seeing you today. Wanted to take care of you. Needed to make sure you were okay.

He put a hand to my cheek and ran a thumb along my lips. Then he leaned in and kissed me. It was tentative and soft, and I dissolved into it.

It was like the space I’d put between us made me need more of him to make up for it, and I couldn’t get close enough or soak up enough of him.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him harder, pressing against him as he started to walk me backward toward the bed. We tripped over the mess, our mouths never breaking contact, our feet tangling in discarded clothes and boxes. I knocked into his lamp and it fell sideways with a crash, but we didn’t stop. We peeled off each other’s shirts, slamming back into each other before they touched the ground.

By the time we hit the mattress and he glided over me, I was ravenous. I tugged at his sweatpants, but he shook his head and dragged my hands up to hold them against the pillow. “No.” His lips trailed down my jaw.

I tipped my head back while his mouth moved along my skin. “What do you mean ‘no’?” I breathed.

He smelled incredible, his heady masculine cedar scent like an evocative pheromone. Heat came off his chest, and the way he had my hands imprisoned, I was cocooned in his body, nestled between his strong arms.

“You’re in trouble,” he said into my collarbone. “You’ve lost dick privileges.”

I snorted. “What? Why?”

He came back up and ground himself against my core, shooting electricity through my body, and my need intensified.

“You didn’t talk to me for two weeks.” He sucked my lip between his teeth. “You’re on punishment.” His tongue plunged into my mouth.

I was practically panting. I tried to work my hands free, and he held them firmer to the bed, smiling wickedly against my lips. He shook his head. “No.” He pressed into me, hard as a rock.

So it’s to be torture, then.

I made an impatient noise. “Well…how do I get my privileges back?” I wiggled my hips seductively and his breath caught in his throat. I smirked and he squeezed his eyes shut, clearly struggling with his boycott.

“You have to apologize for ignoring me.”

“I’m sorry.” I nipped at his lip.

“And tell me you missed me.”

I nodded. “Yes,” I whispered. “I missed you.”

He opened his eyes and looked at me. “Say it again.”

I held his serious, brown-eyed stare. “I missed you, Josh.”

His eyes moved back and forth between mine, like he was trying to determine if I really meant it.

I really did mean it. I missed him even now, and he was right here.

He nodded, something softening on his face, and he released my hands.

I went straight to his pants again, but he got off me, stripped, and kneeled between my knees. Then he grabbed the waist of my shorts and pulled them down. “Are you bleeding?”

His hooded eyes were dark with desire, his breathing ragged. He was famished. No way he’d slept with someone else these last two weeks. He was on the same sex drought I was.

I shook my head. “No, I’m not bleeding.”

He lowered his face between my legs and gripped my hips, pulling me to his mouth. I gasped. His tongue went to work, and my hands flew to his hair.

Oh my fucking God…

He’d never done this before—I was usually spotting. And holy shit—he was an oral virtuoso. I don’t know what he was doing down there, but it was obvious I was in the hands of a professional. Fuck, is he good at everything?

My knees started to shake. I moaned, and like he knew I was about to lose it, he came up and lowered himself over me. “I don’t have a condom.”

Nooooooo! “What? Why? Where are they?”

His mouth descended my neck, kissing me roughly. “At your house, where I leave them,” he said huskily.

I’m the only person he’s sleeping with? I mean, I know he said his dates didn’t usually…

My favorite plaything pressed against my stomach, teasing me, and I lost my train of thought.

Fuck it. “No condom—I don’t care,” I gasped. “You’re the only one I’m sleeping with too.”

He jerked up and looked at me, his shallow breath rolling over my face. He studied me for a second, something unreadable in his eyes. Then he crushed his mouth to mine and slid into me.

There was something deeper about the sex this time, more emotional, desperate. Both of us were frantic, like we’d thought we were never going to see each other again, and the lack of a condom, the absence of that barrier, elevated everything, made us hungrier.

Neither of us were going to make it very long. There was no way.

His forceful thrusts launched me into spasms within seconds. My moaning pushed him over the edge and he poured inside of me, growling and gasping.