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I don’t bother removing any of my clothes. I don’t need to. I remove Mel’s slippers, dropping them onto the floor beside the bed, her jeans and cotton panties joining them. My fingers trail over her T-shirt, cupping her breasts, but moving on quickly. I have a point to make.
Settling on the bed on my stomach, I grab her ankles, pressing her knees to her chest and separating her legs, opening her to me like a flower. So fucking beautiful.
Pressing down on her inner thighs with both hands, I lower my head, my lips and tongue teasing her clit until she’s breathy and whiny, trying to lift her hips. With her hands tied and the angle I have her legs, she has no leverage, so she’s entirely at my mercy.
I keep swiping her clit with my tongue, never completely satisfying her.
“Pete,” she whines. “This is torture.”
“Do you want to come, Tinker Bell?”
“God, yes!”
Grinning, I swipe her clit again. “Why do you care what my family thinks of you? Of us? I don’t care.”
“Because they’re your family,” she gasps, whimpering as my tongue grazes her again.
“And they can be a bunch of snobby pricks. They’re not worth your tears, Tinker Bell.”
Nothing is worth her tears. Nothing. Tinker Bell is made to laugh, not cry. It’s so fucking wrong for her to cry.
“Pe-ete!” She manages to draw my name out to two syllables. With a chuckle, I graze her clit with my teeth, sucking on it and spearing two fingers into her pussy as she comes with a breathy moan.
When I lift my hands from her thighs, raising onto my knees, Mel sighs contentedly, her legs falling open, splayed out on the bed. God, she’s so gorgeous, laid out for me. I could fuck her right now. Unfortunately for my dick, I think my point would be better made if I didn’t get off. God, it sucks being the good guy sometimes.
Crawling up the bed, I settle between her thighs, stroking her hair and kissing her nose.
“We’re having fun, Tinker Bell. Screw my family and what they think. Let’s not ruin this.”
“You’re right,” she sighs, her eyes fluttering closed as I lower my mouth to hers.
“I usually am,” I mutter against her lips. She giggles, and I reach up to release her hands from the makeshift bonds.
Sliding off the bed, I swat at the side of her ass.
“Hey!”
Mel surges off the bed, laughing and retrieving her jeans.
“Get dressed, Tinker Bell. Something nice. We’re going out.”
“Where too?”
“I know a great wine bar.”
“Give me twenty minutes.”
She dashes off to the bathroom, and I cross to her living room, flipping on the TV and finding an NFL game. If she only takes twenty minutes to get ready, I’ll eat my tie.
MEL
Misery wells up in my stomach as I stare at my message thread. Bee hasn’t responded with more than one-word answers in almost two weeks.
If Pete felt even half of what I am when I didn’t answer him three weeks ago, I am so sorry to him. This is awful. I can’t give up on her. She’s my best friend.
She’s lost herself in this relationship, and I don’t want to burn any friendship bridges because one day Bee will find herself, and the longer she is lost, the less there will be waiting for her at the other end.
I will always be waiting for her at the other end. No matter how long it takes. I know she’d do the same for me. Well, my old Bartle-Bee would.
MEL: Dinner? I know somewhere FAB!
BARTLE-BEE: How fab?
Two words! Oh my god! I need somewhere amazing for dinner. Pete answers on the second ring.
“A two P.M. phone call, Tinker Bell? Is everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry, do you have a second?”
“For you? Always.”
Okay. Swoon. The man knows how to deliver a killer one-liner.
“You know the restaurant you took me to out near the marina? Before the theater?”
“It rings a bell.” His voice is laced with amusement. At least I’m not interrupting anything important.
“I was wondering what the prices were like… and if it was hard to get into?”
There’s a pause, and I wince. Oh god. I’m totally going to sound like I’m trying to work out how much he spent on me. I word vomit.
“Bee’s pulling away from me. New Bee is all about money and image and all that awful shit, and I know if I offer to take her to dinner there, she’ll come. Then I can convince her to stay friends with me. This is a terrible idea, isn’t it? Never mind. I’ll think of something else. I’m sorry to bother you….”
“Breathe, Tinker Bell. Breathe,” he orders, his voice stern. Falling silent, I gulp in a huge breath of air. It kind of helps. “Your best friend will only spend time with you if you take her to one of Seattle’s best restaurants?”
Well, when he says it like that, it sounds bad….
“She’s a good person. Really. She’s just caught up in this relationship. I don’t want to lose her. If I have to bankrupt myself to keep her in my life, I will.”
My tone rings with certainty. Pete sighs. I think he might be shaking his head at me.
“Give me five minutes, Tinker Bell.”
“Okay.”
A beep tells me he has hung up on me. I pull up the text thread with Bee again, those two words standing out from her one-word responses above.
MEL: One of Seattle’s best restaurants.
Okay, so I have no idea if I can get in, but what the hell.
