My heart thuds against my chest.
Rex’s tongue slides into my mouth, giving me the taste of toothpaste.
I grind against him in his lap while we make out, feeling his erection grow harder underneath me with every movement. My skin tingles at his excitement for me … for us.
“I want you,” I whisper into his mouth.
He draws away, locking my eyes with his, and understanding dawns on his face.
This is it.
What we’ve been beating around our entire friendship.
Nervousness rocks through me as I grab the waistband of his sweats. I whip a leg over his, no longer straddling him, and am on my knees when I tug at his pants. I don’t make much progress before his hand wraps around my wrist, his grip firm. Just as I’m about to argue, he flips me on my back and hovers over me.
“Swear to me, Carolina,” he whispers. “Swear to me, this won’t change us.”
I shake my head, the pillow soft under my head. “It won’t change anything. I swear.”
All the reluctance he’s been carrying splits into hunger, and his voice is thick as he speaks, “You want to fuck me?”
What does he think I’ve been trying to do for the past week?
Play Yahtzee?
He leans down to whisper in my ear, “Do you remember the first time we had sex?”
His scruff rubs against my cheek, and I shiver when he pulls away.
I will until the day I die.
I nod. “Yes.”
“God, I wanted to do so much more, starting with this.”
Heat creeps up my spine when he pushes up my shirt, baring me to him, and palms my breast while lowering his body over mine.
“I love you in my shirts,” he bites out, capturing my nipple in his fingers and lightly pinching it. “I wanted to suck on these.” With the last word, he draws a nipple between his lips and sucks hard.
My hips tilt forward when he slides his tongue up and down my entire breast.
“My mouth watered to taste your pussy … to have it on my tongue, so I could taste you all night.”
Unlike our first time, I stare down at him, not wanting to miss a second of what is happening, when he slides my panties down my legs. Our eyes are locked as he carefully spreads my legs. Then, my lips between my legs part, and he sticks his tongue inside me.
Holy mother-freaking crap!
“I wanted to set you on fire while I played with your pussy. Wishing I could suck on your clit.”
He does just that, wrapping his lips around my most sensitive spot and slowly sucking it, circling his lips around it in the process.
Rex is a dirty talker during sex.
I love it.
Just as I’m wrapping my mind around his tongue being between my legs, he grips my thighs, pulling my butt off the bed, and drags me into his mouth, devouring me.
I’m dizzy.
I’m trying to keep up and watch, but when he loses his hold on a thigh and curves a single finger inside me, all eye contact is over.
I’m overtaken by tingles hitting every inch of my body, and my moans take over the room.
“There’s that G-spot,” he says with a chuckle.
I don’t have to see him to know he’s sporting a smirk.
With the few guys I’ve done this with, it maybe lasted a good ten minutes and resulted in no orgasm, but not with Rex … no. He’s passionately kissing me between my legs, fingering me, and he rides me through one orgasm … then another. At this point, I’m doubting if he’s going to have sex with me or just keep getting me off, using his tongue to appease me.
I’m not complaining, but I want more.
I want him inside me.
All of him.
I sigh at the loss of his mouth, and he stares up at me.
“You were so wet and tight when I got you ready for my cock,” he groans out at the memory.
I writhe underneath him. “I remem—” I stop myself from finishing. “Actually, I don’t. Please remind me.”
He smirks, climbing over my body, and sweat lines his forehead when his mouth returns to mine. “Now, Carolina, a man will have a complex if you don’t remember how good he filled you with his dick.”
I taste myself when he briefly plunges his tongue between my lips before I lose him again.
He rubs a thumb over my bottom lip—that seems to be his thing. “You want to fuck me, Carolina?”
I nod repeatedly. “Yes … please … now.” My voice is so strained; I hardly recognize it.
A yelp leaves me when he rolls us over—him on his back and me on top again, his hands firmly gripping my hips.
“Then, fuck me,” he grounds out, tilting his head toward the nightstand. “Condom, top drawer.”
I wriggle against him a few times, hearing him release a hiss, and then stretch along the bed to the nightstand. There’s a box of condoms inside the drawer. It’s nearly full, XL—not surprising since I’ve seen his cock a few times now. It was a struggle to take him all the way in my mouth last night.
I hesitate, taking in how he’s having me do all the work, and build up the courage to appear as confident as I can.
He hisses as I drag his pants down, his cock springing free, and I fumble with ripping open the condom wrapper. It’s the first time a guy has asked me to do the honors.
His muscles tense when I stroke him once before rolling the condom onto his thick cock.
“Is that good?” Stupidity hits me at my question, but it’s important.
Homegirl is not getting preggers over here.
My parents would really shit.
I scrub a hand over my forehead.
Why am I thinking about my parents right before having premarital sex?
“Is everything okay?” Rex asks, rising on his elbows at the change in my mood.
I nod. “Mmhmm. More than okay.”
“Take off your shirt, so I can see all of you.”
I whip it off and throw it across the room. Our moans fill the room when I align myself with his cock and slowly ease my way down, as he fills every inch of me. It’s been a while since I’ve had sex, so there’s a slight pain, and I still for a moment.
“Holy fuck,” he hisses, biting hard into his lower lip. “You’re tight.”
I only nod while adjusting to his size.
“You good?” Rex asks.
I’m grateful he’s not rushing this, that he’s giving me time.
I nod again. “I’m perfect.”
His hand rises, rubbing circles over my clit, making me wetter.
Turning me on even more.
Well ... that’s a way to get my mind off the twinge of pain.
“This will be better than the last time, I promise.” I buck forward as he slows his movements on my clit.
“Every time is perfect with you, babe.” His hand locks around my hip before his jerk forward.
A burst of pleasure barrels through me, my ache of pain turning into an ache of needing more of him, and I slowly grind against him.
He stays still, allowing me to take charge.
At the rotation of my hips, his rise, matching my tempo.
It doesn’t take us long to find the perfect rhythm.
Sex with Rex is amazing.
Perfection.
Better than what I imagined.
I fall forward, unable to support my weight, and rest my hand onto his chest, knowing I’m close to my brink.
That slow tempo speeds up until we’re going wild, all the years of sexual tension bleeding through us. My hand moves from his chest to the headboard as he drills his hips into me, his hand on my waist tighter to keep me from flying off him, and I collapse against him, moaning out my release, not caring who hears.
He thrusts violently underneath me, losing every ounce of gentle control he’s ever had for me, and I gasp when he rolls us over again. As soon as I fall to my stomach, he props my hips up, his hand sliding down my back, and I level myself on my elbows, peeking back at him.
Hunger fills his face.
Need in his eyes.
Not wasting a moment of not being inside me, he fills me again, pounding into me hard and fast.
I smile as another orgasm approaches.
I’m not getting a fake Rex.
This is real.
All him.
How he is in bed.
How he likes it.
He’s giving me all of him, showing me all of him.
“You feel so good, Carolina,” he moans. “Do you feel how hard I am inside you?”
I gasp, fighting to control my breathing … to speak. “Yes.” It’s a struggle to release even that word.
“I’m going to come so hard inside you.”
I slump against the bed, my body trembling as soon as my stomach hits the warm sheets, and I grin at the splotches of sweat on them.
From us being together.
I shudder as I release my orgasm, saying his name in a low whisper.
He gives me a few more thrusts before slamming into me one last time, holding me in place, and releasing a low groan, my name leaving his lips louder than his did mine.
Seconds later, he pulls out and collapses on his back next to me.
Sweat covers our bodies, the scent of sex in the room, as our chests heave in and out.
The door to our friendship has been closed and locked, the key thrown away.
There’s no returning.
We’re somewhere new.
Hopefully, this new won’t ruin us.
We did it.
Rex and I finally had sex.
Amazing, out of this world, will never be better with anyone else sex.
We’re tangled up in his sheets, naked, after another round this morning.
It was different than last night.
It was slow.
Every hair on my body rose, and I orgasmed in minutes as he whispered sweet things into my ear.
“You’re beautiful.”
“I love being inside you.”
“Love how we fit together perfectly.”
“You own every inch of me.”
Not only is Rex a dirty talker in the bedroom, but he can also be a sweet one.
Rex props himself up on his elbow, me on my back, as he stares down at me. “What are you up to today?” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and even though his eyes are tired, they’re crinkled at the corners as a smile takes over his gorgeous face.
My smile is shy in return. “Working and then nothing really.”
Other than regaining some energy after the workouts you’ve given me.
Screw a gym membership. All I need is good sex from Rex.
Sex with him is the equivalent to one week of cardio.
“Working and then hanging out with me?” he corrects.
“Duh.” I groan at the sound of Bob Marley playing from the kitchen.
“Josh is up.” Rex chuckles.
“At least we’ll get fed well.”
Reggae means Josh is cooking one of his infamous breakfasts. Sure, loud music first thing in the morning is annoying, but he makes up for it with his kitchen skills. My stomach grumbles, just thinking about it.
“We need it after last night.”
“Do you think he heard us?” A blush runs over my skin.
“I’m positive all of Blue Beech heard us. You’ll be getting calls about your bad behavior later.” He tickles my side, causing me to burst out in laughter. “You made me work up an appetite this morning. Let’s hope Josh is making pancakes.”
After enduring an hour of dating questions from Josh and Angelica—their smug expressions confirming they most definitely heard us last night—we trek back to Rex’s bedroom.
Rex hops in the shower, and I fall onto his bed, resting my back against his headboard. I capture my phone from the nightstand.
As badly as I wanted to join him, my legs feel like noodles.
My vagina needs a break.
My stomach drops when I pull up my notifications.
James: We need to talk.
I need to talk to him like I need to grow antlers out of my head.
The text was sent at one this morning, and I debate whether to answer.
He could’ve been in one of his moods.
Stupidly, I reply.
Me: No, we don’t. Kick rocks.
Seconds later, my phone rings.
James calling.
My heart rages against my chest. He normally doesn’t call. He prefers to type out his threats, so I don’t miss them.
I decline the call.
It rings again.
Decline.
I cast a glance at the bathroom when it rings again, hearing the shower running, and my hands are shaking when I answer.
“What?” I hiss into the speaker. “Leave me alone!”
“Who is this? Why are you texting my boyfriend?”
My hand tightens around the phone at the sound of her voice.
Margie’s voice, releasing in a nasty snarl.
I clear my throat and lower my tone, attempting for it to sound masculine. “Sorry. Wrong number.”
Click.
The phone rings again.
James calling.
The best morning of my life—waking up, wrapped in Rex’s arms—has been ruined by him. Tears slip down my cheeks, and I quickly push them away with my arm, ridding the evidence for when Rex comes back.
“Everything okay?”
The phone falls from my hand when Rex walks into the room, a towel around his waist, water droplets on his chest.
“You look like you saw a ghost,” he adds, concern on his face.
I shake my head and hate myself for lying to him. “It’s just Margie.”
Technically, it isn’t a full lie.
It was Margie.
“Still blowing her off?” He drops the towel, and my mind momentarily forgets my issues at the sight of him naked. I frown when he pulls a pair of gray sweatpants on. “Don’t you think it’d be right to clear the air and tell her everything? She deserves that.”
I flick my phone farther away from me on the bed as if it were poisonous. “I’m not blowing her off. I’m keeping my distance.” Same thing, but it sounds better.
He swipes a shirt from a drawer, pulling it over his head. “It’s not fair to her.”
“Life isn’t fair sometimes.” I cross my arms. “I’m not opening that can of worms. It’s better for her to think I hate her than for her to hate me.”
“She wouldn’t hate you.”
“She called me a skank-ass ho.”
“Technically, she didn’t call you a skank-ass ho.”
“Close to it.”
“Not even close.”
“Look, I’ll reach out when I feel comfortable.” I jump up from the bed with a frown on my face. “I need to get ready for work.”