Whenever Stuart had done something for her, it was in expectation she’d do something for him, he’d always required her to reciprocate.
Could Rylan really not want anything from her?
She’d never had a friendship with a man before, not one that didn’t include sex.
Her gaze moved to the shower. Okay, so they’d had sex. But they weren’t going to continue to have sex, and he’d seemed fine with that. He’d asked to stay friends. And when he had, she’d been relieved that what she’d done, virtually thrown herself at him, hadn’t destroyed what she now realized was one of the two friendships she treasured most in her new life.
Rylan and Alyssa were the two people she felt closest to, and she’d be devastated if she’d ruined things with Rylan.
“No.” She pushed to her feet. “He still wants to be friends. It’ll be fine.”
But even as the words echoed in her ears, she wondered if they could remain friends after the explosive sex they’d just had.
She hadn’t had that many sexual relationships. In fact, she’d slept with a total of five men in her entire life, including Rylan, and she’d been seeing those other four men for months before they’d gotten physically intimate.
So why did she feel closer—more connected—to Rylan than she’d ever felt with anyone else?
18
Rylan pulled up in front of Mazey’s house and drew in a deep breath.
They’d stuck to their agreement. They were friends.
In the two weeks, one day and fourteen hours since they’d had sex—and yes, he was counting—they’d kept to their friends only deal.
How he’d kept his hands off her, he couldn’t say. There were a lot of close moments where he’d almost blown it. He wanted nothing more than to get his hands on her again.
He had a crippling case of blue balls most of the time. The only relief he’d found was in the few seconds after he’d given in and put his own hand to work. Not that it mattered how many times he did or didn’t take things into his own hands, he still wanted her to the marrow of his bones.
It didn’t help when the glances between them were loaded with lust either. Rylan was sure others had noticed. The sparks that flew around them when they were close couldn’t be invisible.
At first, he’d thought they weren’t going to be able to stay friends, but after a couple of days, they found a rhythm that worked.
Well, it worked if he didn’t count his blue balls.
Today would be a test though. Mazey had agreed to go shopping with him to purchase everything he needed for the barbecue he was hosting tomorrow. The furniture and grill he’d ordered online had arrived on Wednesday, and he’d spent Thursday putting it all together and moving it around his deck to decide where the best place for each new piece was.
He still wasn’t sure he’d gotten that right. He’d have to ask Mazey later.
When she would be at his house.
She hadn’t just agreed to go shopping with him.
She’d agreed to help him set everything up. Today and tomorrow.
They’d be together for two straight days. He couldn’t wait, even knowing he was in for hours of torture. Being around her and not touching her was getting harder and harder, and he wasn’t referring to the state of his dick. He’d given up on that ever going soft again. Keeping to the friends only pact was going to kill him by starving his brain of oxygen.
He didn’t only want to touch her. He wanted to spend time with her. Wanted to ask more questions about her, about her past. The need to know everything about her rode him just as hard as the need to get her naked.
There wasn’t anything about her he didn’t want. He’d never felt this way with any other woman. Not even Renee and he’d married her.
He couldn’t afford to blow it with Mazey. The idea of not having her in his life left him gutted in a way his failed marriage hadn’t. He had to find a way to bring them closer without scaring her off. If he could just keep his libido in check.
Shoving out of his truck, he slammed the door behind him and headed across her lawn. Mazey met him on her porch.
“I’m ready.” She smiled at him, and it took everything he had not to lean down and press his mouth to hers.
Fuck!
