Everything Unexpected (8 page)

“I want to watch you come. The second time it happens, my view may be obstructed,” I say, my eyes moving from where my fingers are working to her face.

Leah smiles softly, her hips move in circular motions, matching the movements of my fingers.

I rest one hand by her head, bending over her while I continue to get lost in her body. “Will you let me see? Let me watch?” I ask.

Her eyes open as does her mouth. She doesn’t speak though. Can’t, I think. But her body tells me yes.

We stay like that, our faces close but not touching while I continue to feel her, inside and out. I know she’s getting close by how rigid her body is becoming. Then, one hand comes up and wraps around my bicep, squeezing it as she starts to come.

“Oh fuck,” she breathes out.

I keep going until her body begs me to stop. I remove my fingers and kiss her, breathing in her panting breaths. Her hands rest on my hips, her nails digging deep into my skin. I jerk my head back, scanning her face.

“Good?”

She smirks. “Great.”

Her fingers come away from my hips and move over to my stomach, slowly scraping lower until she wraps her fingers around me, holding me. I feel her thumb move up and down, circling me. I hold my breath but pump my hips slightly.

“You want a taste?” I ask.

She cocks her mouth to the side, squeezing me once more before moving out from under me, pushing me onto my back and placing me in her mouth. Nothing has ever felt so good before. It takes every ounce of will I have to keep my eyes open so I can watch her pleasure me. I swipe some of her long hair out of the way, cradling her head as it moves up and down.

“God, you’re good at this,” I say.

Her eyes look up at me and she smiles. “I know.”

I know if I let her go on, searching for those rubbers will have been all for nothing.

“Enough,” I say. “This isn’t how I want to come.”

She stops what she’s doing and climbs on top of me, sitting dangerously close to where I’m in the most need of contact.

“How do you want to come?” her voice teasing.

I let out a small laugh. “I think you know.”

My eyes look down to where she sits on my thighs, then to the area right above. I reach for one of the foil packages, ripping it open and sheathing myself. Once I’m ready, I look up at her.

“Hop on,” I tell her.

There is a second that passes, maybe two where we both stare at each other, knowing once we do this, once her body moves just a few inches north, there will be
no
going back. In these two seconds, we need to make a choice. A choice that no matter how hard we’ll try not to let it, will change us.

She raises her hips up off my legs and reduces those remaining inches to nothing. My hands fall her to hips and I help guide her, line her up to where I need her before I thrust myself inside. A few minutes ago, I thought her mouth was the best thing I ever felt. I was very wrong. I was not prepared for how warm and tight and fantastic she would feel around me.

As soon as I’m fully inside, she settles around me and we both start to move. Her body rising up, her hands on my chest, using me for leverage. One of my hands stays on her hip while the other grabs hold of her breast.

“Christ, Leah. You feel amazing,” I say, watching her body move over mine again and again.

“I think I’m going to come again,” she says, one hand getting lost in her hair, the other meeting mine, gripping her breast alongside my fingers.

“Please come again,” I say, moving faster. I bring a hand down to where her body is meeting mine, using my thumb to find the spot that drove her wild earlier, helping reach her second orgasm. Simply watching her come is enough to make me want to.

“Oh God,” she says. “Shane!”

I feel her muscles contract around me and I wrap my arm around her, flipping us over. Her body is still convulsing around me and I start to move harder and faster. Sweat is dripping down my neck, my stomach tightening, telling me I’m close.

“I’m gonna come,” I tell her. I drop down to my forearms and Leah wraps her legs around my back. A few more thrusts is all it takes.

“Leah, shit. Leah,” I say into her neck.

I’m out of breath, panting into her hair. Our bodies are sticky with sweat, glued to one another. I barely have the energy to move but I roll off her, both of us on our backs lying next to each other.

“Wow. That was…” she starts but doesn’t finish. She doesn’t need to.

“Yeah. It was,” I finish her thought.

We stay silent for another few minutes. I don’t think either of us knows what to say or do. I wish I had the right words ready, but I don’t. My eyes are fighting to stay open from both the pleasure and exhaustion. Maybe the right words will come in the morning, after a few hours of sleep. I’ll have a clearer mind and Leah will most likely not be naked while we talk. We’ll get up, have coffee, read the paper like we’ve done many times before, casually speak of this and all will be fine.

Everything will be just fine.

I CAN’T MOVE but I can’t stay still. I’m afraid any shift or stirring I make will completely wake me from this half sleep and force me to face the reality of what happened here last night.

I know it’s early in the morning, the sun just starting to creep over my closed lids but it’s enough to wake me. I wish I had woken up in the middle of the night, when the room was still dark and Shane was barely visible to me. It would have been easier to get up from this bed if he were just a shadow and I wasn’t able to make out all his features. His bare chest, skin that reminds me just how I like my coffee—sweet with just a bit of milk. His muscled shoulders that just hours ago held him directly above me could have been masked in darkness but now there’s no way to ignore them. Every part of him is becoming more and more clear, more and more unavoidable every minute I let pass and don’t move.

What the hell do I do now? Stay? Wait for him to wake up? Leave? Give each of us some time to digest last night’s events before we talk?

Hours ago I made him promise to not let things get weird, a pledge that we not lose what we have. How fucking stupid was I? Of course things are going to be weird. I’m panicked just being around him already.

I slowly turn my head, careful of every millimeter my body moves. He’s lying on his back, only the thin layer of cotton his sheet provides covering him from his hips down, a small trail of dark hair sneaking just under the top edge. My eyes rise to his face where he continues to sleep peacefully and content. Like he has no cares in the world. It’s unbelievable how men can do that. Not let anything bother them between the hours of twelve and seven in the morning. How they can just shut their minds off and leave everything until morning. While he sleeps like a baby, my mind’s been reeling, not quieting itself long enough to sleep longer than twenty minute increments. I wish I could sleep like Shane. Find peace and comfort in this bed. But I can’t, and because I can’t, I want to slap him awake.

Flashbacks of last night spiral through my mind. Everything from the tequila shots, dancing, to the tequila shots again. The memory of Shane’s genuine surprise when he walked into the bar momentarily brings a smile to my face. The knowing look he gave me, acknowledging I finally pulled one over on him. Bringing all of our friends together, the laughs, the smiles, the ultimate perfect birthday bash. Until fucking Bryan opened his big fucking mouth.

“
Not once have you two even thought about banging? Just for the hell of it?”

God, why did I let him get to me like that?

After that, it was all I could think about. Shane and me. Me and Shane. Sex. The thought never crossed my mind before. Of course I’ve always been aware of how attractive he is. What am I, a nun? Look at him, he’s gorgeous! But we’d been friends for so long. The first two years of our friendship I was dating someone else! When I fantasized about other men, it was usually the likes of Ryan Reynolds or Ryan Gosling. Never my best friend. Fuck, and he
is
my best friend. And last night, out of nowhere, I threw myself at him. Several times.

Outside the bar.

In the cab.

The living room.

The bedroom.

What the hell was I thinking? I initiated all this.
I
came on to
him
! Practically begged him for it. If it wouldn’t risk waking him up, I’d put the pillow over my face and scream. I need to get out of here. I can’t face him like this. Not when I’m absolutely mortified at what
I
started.

I slowly and very carefully get out of bed, praying he doesn’t wake. I pick up the clothes that are scattered on the floor, dressing quickly and quietly. I hear the rustling of bed sheets and my heart stops. I freeze, letting only my eyes move, peeking up from the foot of the bed. Shane has turned over and is now lying on his stomach. His arm reaches out to where I was just a short moment ago but thankfully my absence doesn’t wake him.

Fuck this is horrifying. I’m sneaking out like this was a one night stand with hopes I’ll never have to see this person again. But I
will
see him again. I
have
to see him again. Because it’s Shane.
My
Shane. And he’s one of the few constants I have in my life.

What a fucking nightmare.

I finish getting dressed and tiptoe towards the door, opening it slowly and closing it just the same. I walk down the hall, wiping my eyes clear of any eyeliner that’s likely to have smudged during the night. Running my fingers through my hair, I feel them get caught in tangle after tangle.

I make my way to the couch, quickly finding my purse. I open it, thanking God for the box of Tic-Tac’s I had slipped inside. I pop one in my mouth, never so happy for that small burst of mint to hit my tongue.

I turn to head towards the front door when I’m halted in place, face to face with a whole different kind of nightmare. A few feet away, sitting at the kitchen counter with a spoon full of cereal in the air, is Bryan. Still in last night’s clothes, his brows furrowing slightly, slowly piecing together the scene in front of him. It isn’t anything new for me to spend the night here on occasion but never have Shane and I slept in the same bed, nor have I ever come out of his room looking like I’ve just spent the night having sex. God, I hope I don’t have any visible bite marks on my skin.

What do I say? Do I even
need
to say anything? No. I don’t need to justify myself to anyone, least of all Bryan. I’m just going to do nothing, say nothing, and walk out that door. Yes. That sounds good. Bryan’s mouth opens wider when his eyes move down my body. It’s embarrassingly obvious he’s recognizing the walk of shame I’m about to take. His eyes dart between the hallway leading to Shane’s bedroom then back to me.

Before he has the chance to say anything, I charge for the door, leaving him stunned and silent behind me. All alone with his Cheerios. I don’t dare wait for the elevator. I rush to the fire exit and take the three flights of stairs down to the main floor and the safety of being outside of this apartment building. The streets are still quiet, barely anyone out, which makes sense considering how early it is on a Sunday morning. I walk the few blocks it takes to get to a busier intersection where I hope to catch a cab. My pace begins to quicken with every step, moving as fast as I can in my heels. My stomach starts to turn and I’m fairly certain it has nothing to do with all the alcohol I drank last night. Sweat forms on my neck and I know it has nothing to do with the morning sun. I keep moving, faster and faster, never having to get away from that loft as much as I do right now.

SEVEN TEXT MESSAGES, two voicemails and an email. That’s how many times Shane has tried to get in contact with me over the last day and a half. I sit at my desk, staring at the latest text that just came through.