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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.
15
What the fuck did I just do?
That was not supposed to happen. I scrub my scalp and stare at my reflection in Becka’s bathroom while guilt pummels me.
I messed up. We were supposed to be just friends. How could I slip and mess up this badly? I haven’t done something this dumb since my early days of fame.
No, that’s not right. What just happened with Becka will never be something that I’ll regret as much as I do some of my behavior in those early days of the band hitting it big. But this is still bad. Really, really bad.
I need her as my friend. I need her in my life. Have I just fucked that all up by having sex with her?
Mind-blowing sex at that. Fuck, no one has ever felt as good as Becka.
NO!
Fuck, I have to stop thinking about her like that. I need to get us back on the friendship track. As great as that was, it was a mistake. Friends with benefits always gets messy, and I know if we date and break up, she’ll never speak to me again. The idea guts me even thinking about it.
I know she’s going to be mad if I tell her we shouldn’t do that again, but mad is temporary. She’ll realize our friendship is more important.
I need her. I can’t let sex ruin what we have. I’ve never felt as close to someone outside of the band as I do to Becka.
Okay, this is fine. I can fix this. I quickly wash my hands, and then go back into her room.
I stop in my tracks when I see her lying there, her chest moving with even breaths, her lips slightly parted, and a serene expression on her face. Fuck, she fell asleep.
I rub my head, trying to think about a plan B. How do I handle this and not make things worse? I’m in uncharted territory here. I consider leaving but quickly push that thought away. No, I need to be here when she wakes up.
And maybe there’s a small part of me that wants to jump at the chance to hold her like this, intimately. Even if I know I can’t keep her like this.We need to stay friends.I keep hoping the words will erase how good she felt beneath me, but they don’t. If anything, the thought frustrates me because I know I’ll never forget having her this way, but I need to do what’s right for our friendship.
I gently lie back down in her bed, trying not to jostle her around. She immediately rolls toward me and curls up next to me, her hand resting on my chest and one of her legs lying across mine. I watch her sleep for hours, memorizing every line of her face, the few freckles that I’ve never noticed before that dot her nose. Eventually, my eyes droop, heavy from exhaustion, and I fade to sleep.
