I pace along the hardwood floors of my condo, my phone clutched in my hand. My mind is racing almost as fast as my heart.
Am I about to mess things up?
Or am I about to make the best decision of my life?
I talked to Will about safety when risking your heart, but the more I thought about it the more I realized there’s risk either way. The safety comes in trusting the other person. In knowing them enough to know your trust in them is worth it. That they’ll take this gift you’re giving them and treat it like a precious blessing. But to give that gift—your heart—in the first place, you have to risk. Risk your heart. Risk the familiar, the comfortable.
I’m about to risk it all, and I’m panicking.
I texted Trent an hour ago to see if he could come over, and he should be here any minute. I have no idea what to expect. I know there’s been something charged between us that’s been there from the beginning and has grown with every hangout. But does he feel it too?
If he doesn’t, this could be absolutely disastrous, both personally and professionally. I mean, I’m about to be working on his band’s documentary, which is big for both of us. If this doesn’t go how I hope it does, then that would make work incredibly awkward when he comes back from tour.
I’m either about to make the biggest fool of myself or have the best sex of my life.
My vote’s on the best sex.
There’s a knock at the door, and my heart catches in my throat. Okay, he’s here.
Time to jump.
No risk, no reward, right?
I walk briskly to the door and open it, and my breath stalls in my chest. God, has he always been this sexy? I mean, he’s always been hot, but suddenly it’s like my libido is on steroids and I want nothing more than to jump on him.
One step at a time.
“Hey, thanks for coming.”
His brow furrows in concern. “Sure. You made it seem kinda urgent. Everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah. I was just hoping I could talk to you about something.”
“Okay,” he says, looking at me with all this trust in his eyes that I start to second-guess myself. What am I doing? He’s expressed more than once what my friendship means to him.
Shit. I can’t do this.
My shoulders drop and my heart aches, but I try to push it aside. This isn’t the first time I’ve been disappointed, and it likely won’t be the last.
“Want something to drink?”
“I’ll take a water.”
“Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll be right back.” I watch him head to the couch, briefly admiring how his jeans hug his delicious ass, and then scamper into the kitchen and grab two glasses. I fill them with water, close my eyes, take a deep centering breath, and then head out to the living room.
Instead of sitting, Trent is admiring my view. “This is a great place.”
I smile. “Yeah, I fell in love with it instantly. It was a steal considering the view I have.”
He turns, and his smile is so magnetic, it draws me to him. I stand closer than is probably appropriate and hand him his water. My heart is racing, even if my mind has already decided I can’t pursue anything with him. We’re friends, and that means so much to him. Hell, it means so much to me too. Clearly I wasn’t thinking when I texted him earlier.
We drink our waters and stare out at the ocean a distance away. There are a couple of smaller condos and a major road that are also in the view, but now that it’s night, all you see are the glittering lights, and it looks a little magical.
“So you said you had something to talk to me about?”
Oh shit.
“Uh, yeah, you know what, it was stupid. I figured it out.”
His brow arches, and his blue eyes pierce me. My heartbeat speeds up, and I take a sip of my water, hoping he doesn’t notice the way my hands are shaking as I place my water glass on a nearby table.
“Are you okay?”
I look up at him and realize he’s moved a little closer, his own water glass sitting on the windowsill and our bodies practically touching. God, is he trying to torture me?
“I’m fine,” I say, although it comes out as a cracked whisper, and the words sound false even to my ears.
His gaze traces the lines of my face and my blood heats, my body tingling with desire so fierce it makes my knees weak. My gaze is locked on his as I watch his eyes move across my face. I wonder what he sees. Does he see the girl I was back in Texas? The girl he kissed once upon a time? Does he wish that kiss had ended differently? That we had kept going instead of stopping and laughing it off and then never talking about it again?
Does he want to kiss me now as desperately as I want to kiss him?
His hand comes up and brushes a lock of my brown hair behind my ear, his fingertips grazing the skin, and my eyes close at the pleasure that floods my body at his simple touch.
Maybe it’s because my eyes are closed and my other senses heightened, but I swear his breathing gets heavier.
“Becka,” his voice is whisper-soft and his minty breath fans my face. I open my eyes to see him leaning down, hunger in his eyes.
Hunger for me.
That’s all I need to see. I throw my arms around his neck and pull him down until our lips brush. He lets out a deep groan before his arms wrap around my waist, and he hauls me against him until our bodies are flush. What started as a quick brush of lips turns into the filthiest French kiss I’ve ever had. His tongue dances with mine, and my hips grind against him of their own accord.
We both groan as the kiss deepens further. Fuck, his mouth is amazing. He definitely didn’t kiss this well at fifteen. I quickly get lost in the brush of his mouth against mine, our tongues licking into each other’s mouths. Our kiss is greedy and needy and filled with longing.
His need matches mine, and I’m so relieved I could cry. Just friends isn’t enough for him either.
Thank God.
But I need more. I push off his jacket and scrape my nails down his arms. He growls, and his blue eyes heat with a blazing lust that leaves me completely breathless. He bends down and throws me over his shoulder, causing a squeal to break free.
“Bedroom. Now.”
Fuck me, that’s hot.
“Down the hall.” Wow, my voice is breathy. But I’m in such a daze of lust I don’t even care. I just want to get this man naked and inside me as fast as possible.
He walks down the hall with a speedy gait and no hint of struggle, as if I weigh nothing. He quickly finds my room and drops me on the bed with a small bounce. I’m so turned on, I’m pretty sure my panties are destroyed from how wet they are.
I’ve never had anyone manhandle me before, and holy shit. It. Is. Hot!
His gaze locks on mine, and everything I’m feeling is mirrored there. We’re on the same page.
God, this risk is already so worth it.
He reaches behind his neck and rips his shirt off his body leaving him bare-chested. Why is it so hot when men take their shirts off like that? But then I’m distracted by his ridiculously sexy six pack and golden tan skin. Yeah, Trent is definitely not the lanky boy I grew up with anymore. And I am one hundred percent okay with that. Good Lord.
He starts to undo his belt buckle and then nods at me. “You’re a little overdressed, don’t you think?”
My eyes widen, and a smile breaks across my face. “Sorry. I was distracted by the view.”
He smirks, but then as soon as I take off my shirt, his stare turns hungry again as his gaze caresses every inch of exposed skin. I reach behind my back and unhook my bra. I slide the straps off my shoulder and then let it fall to my elbows before sliding it the rest of the way off and throwing it somewhere in the room—I can’t be bothered to care where it lands. I stand up and slide my shorts off at the same time that Trent slides his jeans and boxer briefs down.
My mouth waters at the sight of his dick.
I’m not a nun, okay? I’ve seen my fair share of dicks and probably have had more sexual partners than the average woman, but I have never seen a cock as great as Trent’s. Its girth and length are absolutely perfect. Not so long that it’ll hurt—bigger isn’t always better, take it from me—but just long enough that I know he’s going to feel fucking incredible.
Unable to stop myself, I reach out and grip it, sliding my hand up and down against the soft, velvety exterior of his hard length. He lets out a hiss and then grabs my wrist.
“I’m too close already. I need to be inside you.”
I get up on my tiptoes and nip at his lip, eliciting another growl from him. “Then do it.”
The words spark a fire in his eyes, and it’s like I have unleashed a beast.
He walks me back until I fall onto the bed again and immediately drops to his knees and spreads my legs.
“Wait, I thought—” I don’t get a chance to finish before his mouth is on my pussy, and he’s sucking on my clit like his life depends on it. My body flushes with pleasure and I drop back, my hands gripping his hair as he takes me up higher and higher toward the peak of my orgasm.
He sticks a finger inside and curls it until he hits my G-spot, and that combined with his sucking motion on my clit sets off an explosive orgasm. I detonate, my whole body convulsing as bliss spreads throughout. My thighs clamp around his head as the orgasm carries on far longer than I’m used to, but he doesn’t let up. If anything, it feels like he doubles down on his efforts.
I’m going to fucking pass out if he keeps this up.
I let out a scream as another orgasm rips through me on the tail end of my last one. He finally eases his ministrations and kisses my thighs before stopping completely and standing. I struggle to open my eyes, and when I see him wipe his hand across his mouth, which is wet from my release, I nearly come again at how sexy he looks.
He reaches down to his pants on the floor, grabs a condom from his pocket, and then puts it on. In the meantime, I somehow find the energy to scoot back on the bed. I hope he doesn’t expect me to get on top because my legs are pretty useless right now.
The hunger in his gaze hasn’t faded at all—if anything, he seems ravenous, his eyes a little wild with need. He climbs on top of me and kisses me fiercely. “Becka,” he says my name like a prayer and my heart soars.
Forget falling.
I’m in love with him already.
Which seems totally crazy since it’s only been a few weeks. But then again, maybe it’s not. We’ve known each other so long. Maybe it was always supposed to be this easy between us. This simple to go from friends to lovers.
He slides inside me, and I know I’ve never felt anything as perfect as Trent Bridger. “Trent,” I whisper, my voice a plea. “Don’t stop.”
He shakes his head and pumps harder, our gazes locked on each other. It feels intimate and vulnerable. I’ve never looked into the eyes of my lover while we were having sex. It’s a little scary. I’m sure he can see everything I’m feeling, just like I can see what he’s feeling.
Fortunately, it looks like we’re feeling the same thing. He closes his eyes in bliss and lets out a groan. “Fuck, you feel too good. I’m not gonna last.”
“Look at me.” When he opens his eyes, I say, “Don’t look away.” I need to see his eyes. I need to know we’re in this together. That this risk I took wasn’t a mistake. This is big and scary, and I need to know I’m not going to be abandoned again.
His face gets serious, and I can tell he’s fighting his release. He shifts slightly, and I let out a gasp. He’s now rubbing on my overly sensitive clit with every thrust and, oh God, it feels so good.
“Trent…” I breathe out before I’m coming again, my legs shaking as the waves of pleasure wash over my body until I’m wrung out. He pumps once more and then shouts my name as he comes. His whole body shivers and then he drops his head to my chest, before gently pulling out and rolling to lie next to me, both of us breathless.
“I need to take care of the condom,” he says and drops a kiss to my head before I feel the bed shift, but I can’t look. My eyes are heavy, and my body feels weightless.
“Okay,” I mumble as sleep overtakes me.