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Chapter one
I threw the sheet over the side of the bed. It was not my day. Not only had it been fifty degrees outside, the air-con had broken. Sweat dripped off my body and onto the bottom sheet, which was just gross. Gross, I tell you. Getting out of bed—because sleep didn’t reclaim me. Not when my heart was going a million miles an hour, and my head was filled with fantasies of my best friend; the man of my dreams, Brett. Walking into the bathroom, I turned the bath-taps to cold and stripped out of my blue satin lingerie. I’d seen the slip four-months ago, and bought it with Brett in mind.
I would have already told him about my feelings for him, except, since the revelation—six months ago of being in love with my best friend—every time I had the courage to tell him, Brett would be seeing someone. It broke my heart every time. But being the good girl I am, I kept quiet and cried myself to sleep. It hadn’t been the first time, and I didn’t think it would be the last.
Stepping into the bath, my skin sighed with relief at how cool the water was. Grabbing the mango body wash, I squirted some onto my hands and rubbed them together until the sweet-smelling gel formed a thick lather. Placing the foam on my belly, I made quick work of getting the sweat off my skin. Then brought my hands up to my breasts and rubbed them gently, sending a delicious tingle zipping through me. I was already turned on from dreaming about Brett, and I was wet with want for him so the gentle touch had been enough to have my lower stomach dancing with need.
Taking in a shuddering breath, I continued to torture myself, gliding my fingers over and around my erect nipples, making them point to the ceiling. The entire time I imagined it was Brett’s fingers teasing me. My breathing came out choppy, but I couldn’t stop the intense feeling from building. Travelling my right hand down my body, over—what most would consider—childbearing hips toward my pussy I played with my pubic hair for a second before running a nail over my clit. Sliding my hand lower, I pushed inside my opening. My inner walls wrapped around my finger like a glove
“Fuck, Brett,” I moaned out. My voice sounded different…huskier.
It hadn’t been that long since I’d had sex. Okay, granted, it was with my vibrator and trusted dildo. But still, it seemed more intimate using my fingers while thinking about the man I was in love with. I knew I had to tell him. I was never one for keeping secrets, but I had to with Brett, or risk losing our friendship. The secret was eating me alive, which was why I decided I needed to tell him.
Still pretending my fingers were Brett’s, I pulled one out and pushed two back in. My walls continuing to grip around them like a lifeline. With my other hand I kept up the teasing tug of my nipples. Lost in the fantasy, I called out his name begging him to make it harder.
His hand grabbed at my breast and squeezed, making my back arch away from the bathtub. Water sloshed over the sides, pooling on the tiles, but who cared? I didn’t care about anything except reaching that climax.
Feeling my pussy muscles clench, as it always did when I was about to cum, I knew I was close. But I wanted to prolong this, just a little bit more. Taking Brett’s fingers out of my pussy, I ran them along my clit, gasping in pleasure.
“Oh, Brett,” I moaned again.
The hand that grasped my breast travelled down to my belly, over my hips, then down my thighs. Running softly along my inner leg, sending tingles straight to my core. The lips of my pussy were pulled open and a finger skimmed over my clit. A shudder rocked me and my heart beat double time. I knew I was about to reach my climax. Only he could do this to me. Another skim over my clit and tiny tremors overcame me. My belly constricted as fingers continued to pump in and out of my pussy.
I screamed out Brett’s name as the climaxed consumed me.
Some time later, my breathing finally calmed, and the bath water turned warm, yet I was completely satisfied. Okay, not completely. I would have preferred if Brett was actually there with me. Holding me. Making me climax with his fingers. His cock. His tongue. I’m not picky. Butterflies once again erupted in my belly and I knew, I knew, I had to tell him. Well maybe not about jilling off to images of him, but I did need to tell him about my feelings. After all, being in love with my best friend for six months was long enough to go without saying something.
Maybe he would feel the same way about me? His relationships never lasted. Maybe we were meant to be? I believe in fate, and that everything happens for a reason. I also believe in us.
Tomorrow.
I will tell him tomorrow.
Stepping out of the bath, I grabbed a towel and quickly dried myself.
As I hopped back into bed, I hoped my nerves wouldn’t scare me enough to stop me from going through with telling him. Because I had to!
I fell asleep dreaming of Brett and our future together.
My alarm went off at nine am and I struggle to turn over to stop the loud noise from fully waking me. I’d barely had five hours sleep, and I usually need eight so I’m not grumpy. The weather had cooled over night and I was a little chilly.
Today’s the day. I will not back out. I told myself while getting out of bed. I checked my phone to confirm the time and saw a text from Brett.
Hey beautiful, see you at Globe in 2 hours x
Brett and I were having brunch together which made everything easier, if he felt the same way, we could spend the afternoon in bed before making our way to the Hunter for a little holiday. Okay, he wouldn’t have come due to work. He was so close from finishing a project and I knew he’d want to stay to see it through. But it was a nice dream and I was hopeful. I put on my satin robe, the same blue as the lingerie slip still lying on the bathroom floor, and went to my wardrobe. I needed to wear something sexy yet sweet. I wasn’t going to wear shorts or jeans for something which could be life-altering.
I found a blue dress with red flowers, short in the front, long at the back and it showed just enough cleavage for it to be sexy but modest. When I walked, he’d get a glimpse of my legs. What shoes should I wear? I spotted some red wedges that matched the red flowers on the material. Grabbing a white–lace bra and panty set, I couldn’t help but think I was going to look hot.
As soon as I step into the bathroom, I was greeted with the mess I made the night before. Oops. Unplugging the bath to let the water out, I placed a few towels on the floor to soak up the water before stepping out of my robe. In the shower, I washed my hair and body. Leaning my head down, I use the hard-spray to penetrate my aching muscles. I’d either slept funny, or the stress of telling Brett had made my neck and shoulders tight. Either way, I needed to relax.
Five minutes later, my neck and shoulders loosened up and I turned around to stare at the showerhead. Taking the showerhead off the wall—because I needed a quickie— I turned the nozzle until it pelted out water in a firm stream and placed it between my legs. My clit was still sensitive from the night’s activities, and it protested at the pounding rhythm, but I didn’t care. I needed another release. Thrusting my hips back and forth over the spray it hit a certain spot and I pushed my hand against the wall, holding myself steady so I wouldn’t fall as my climax crested. With shaky arms, I turn off the taps and placed the showerhead back in its holder.
When my post-orgasm tremors finally stopped, I got out of the shower, dried myself, and wrapped another towel around my hair. I got dressed, applied make-up, and did my hair. I looked good, and I really hoped Brett liked what he saw. I smiled to myself, grabbed my purse, and left.
I arrived at Globe, our usual café ten minutes later, and spotted Brett. The tattoos decorating his upper arms played peek-a-boo from under the tight T-shirt he wore. The black material contrasted nicely with his tanned skin, showing off his defined muscles. I’d fantazied about tracing those tattoos with my tongue more than once. My core clenched as I took in his long legs sticking out of the booth, encased in snugly fitting jeans. As always, whenever my gaze finally met his, my heart swelled. Brett’s chocolate brown eyes held mine as I made my way toward him. His nose had been broken a time or two, due to playing football when we were in high school, but I thought that slight imperfection only added to his appeal.
That’s how we met. We went to school together, but we hadn’t been close. However, we had mutual friends so we’d gone out as a group, but nothing stemmed from that. Everyone thought we’d be together, but we were from different sides of the track. It wasn’t until Adam— a friend who was hit by a bus and died—that we saw each other again, and our friendship blossomed. Fast forward six years, and here we are.
