GirlNextDoor (16 page)

His cock was hard—morning wood, they called it back in high
school—and she was staring at his erection as if it were breakfast.

“Good morning,” he managed thickly. He could tell without
looking at the clock that it was ridiculously early.

“Hi.”

“Been awake long?”

“Long enough,” she answered. “Can I have that?”

John groaned. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? I
really need a shower.”

“Perfect,” she agreed, and joined him.

* * * * *

“Now?” she murmured against his mouth.

They stood chest to chest under the hot shower, the last of
the soap lather drifting away. They had washed each other’s hair and then each
other’s bodies, jostling back and forth under the steaming spray, rubbing
against each other, and John was fully aroused.

He was also aware that the condoms were beside the bed, two
impossible rooms away. Lucy had both hands on his rigid organ now, and her
tongue darting around his ear. “No… condom,” he managed to gasp.

“Not a problem,” she promised, and dropped to her knees.

John tensed as she moved her hands to his hips, but she made
no sudden assault. Instead, she licked him very gently, first his thigh, then
his cock, from base to tip. She cupped his balls in both hands, kneading
gently, licking, tasting. He groaned as his knees went weak, nearly lost his
balance.

“Lean back,” Lucy said. “Put your shoulders on the wall.”

John did, and it helped some. She slid her hands down to his
ankles and moved his feet one at a time to her sides, his knees on either side
of her waist, braced and relatively stable. “Better?” she asked. John nodded,
and she took the head of his cock in her mouth.

She took her time, playing with him, fingers and tongue and
shower spray and teeth—sharp, hard, but careful. John was sure she wouldn’t
hurt him. He threw his head back and closed his eyes. The sensations mounted.
The heat, the water, the mouth on his cock, the fingers on his balls, on his
ass, were incredible.

He could get used to waking up like this.

Her fingers stroked the lower curve of his ass, tickling a
little. Then she changed directions and stoked up and down. John tensed a
little as she neared his opening, and she slowed. When he relaxed, she resumed,
her fingertips touching him now, stroking very gently.

Her mouth was still on his cock. She took him deep, then
released him. Nibbling the tip, she licked harder, faster and rolled the head
around her tongue.

One of her hands was busy elsewhere, each finger spread to
cup and tease his balls. Then, one finger of her other hand probed a little
deeper into his opening, a tiny intrusion. He squeezed against it, and she
paused, caressing. It sent fire up his spine and down his cock.

She looked up at him, the water washing over her face like
rain. “Do you want me to stop there?” She rotated her fingertip.

“No,” John answered with certainty, trying to make himself
relax those muscles. He had dreamed about this, fantasized even. His dream
lover hadn’t been her though. “Don’t stop.”

The finger went deeper, one knuckle, then two before he
tensed again. She waited, wiggling gently, sucking his cock lovingly, until he
was ready for more. Then, just as slowly, she added another finger.

John felt his eyes roll back. It was too much, too many
sensations, too good. He wasn’t just going to come, he was going to explode. It
could only be better if…

“Tell me who you want me to be,” Lucy said unexpectedly.

John’s eyes snapped open and he blinked, trying to focus.

“I can be,” she plunged her mouth over his entire cock, then
sucked hard as she drew off, “any mouth you want.” She took the tip and let her
teeth hold it while her tongue lapped up a drop of liquid. “Any mouth. Any
fingers.” More forcefully than before, she added a third finger. “Any cock in
your ass. Who do you want, John?”

Again the mouth and the fingers pushed and retreated. “I can
be anyone. Tell me who you want.”

John threw his head back again, unable to look at her. He
slipped into the fantasy for one perfect moment, almost gave in, but then
fought it off. He couldn’t. Not with her, not with…

He grabbed her hair over her ears. Her mouth took his
thrusts now, obeying the rhythm his hands and hips gave her, deep, long
thrusts. Her one hand squeezed his balls firmly with each thrust, and her other
hand, her fingers now deep in his ass, also thrust in matching rhythm. John was
almost sure he would die now as they went faster and faster, harder and deeper,
fucking and being fucked in perfect synchronization.

Then, the fantasy got too close to reality and he wanted it,
wanted it, wanted it…

He came hard, deep in her throat, his fingers laced in her
hair, his ass grabbing at her fingers. He came, screaming the name from the
heart of his fantasy.

“
Nolan!
”

Chapter Twelve

John Krulak sat on the couch, silent, damp, shivering,
wearing sweatpants, his arms crossed over his bare chest, miserable.

The echoes of the shower scene still tingled through his
groin. It had been perfect. Perfect.

Until he snapped back to reality and bolted away from her.
He wanted to grab his clothes and run out of the apartment. He was so ashamed.
He was shocked at himself, shocked that she could open such doors in him. He
was horrified that he could say that name,
that
name, while she was
sucking him senseless.

He wanted to just not think about it, but the fact was, raw
and simple, he had come in her mouth while screaming their friend’s name.

John wanted to run.

But it was his apartment.

Lucy finally came out. She’d combed out her wet hair and put
on one of John’s old t-shirts. She calmly straddled his legs, sitting on his
lap.

John couldn’t even look at her.

“John.”

He shook his head.

“John,” she repeated gently. She took his face in her hands
and drew him around. Then she kissed him, lips and cheeks and eyes and
forehead, fluttering little kisses until he finally opened his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. It sounded impossibly lame.

“For doing what I invited you to do?” Lucy asked gently.
“You scared yourself, didn’t you?”

John shook his head. “I never— I never told anybody.” He
finally looked into her eyes, and what he saw there calmed him. Her eyes were
darker than Nolan’s, but they held the same gentle, non-judging compassion that
he’d often seen in his friend’s. “I never even used to think about…”

“Men,” she supplied easily. “Does it worry you?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I guess it hasn’t hurt my performance
with women any.”

“Not a bit,” Lucy assured him when he faltered.

“It’s just, I never used to think about men, I don’t know
why now, at my age.”

“You ran out of possibilities.”

“Huh?”

Lucy slid off his lap and sat on the couch beside him, her
legs still draped over his thighs. “I got to a point in my life, a while back,
when I’d tried pretty much everything I wanted to try with men. I still liked
straight sex, a lot, but there wasn’t much that was new to try. So I turned to
women.”

John blinked. “You’re bi?”

“We’re all bi. Some more, some less. Just most people never
admit it.” She brushed a strand of wet hair back from John’s forehead. “You’ve
been like a kid in a candy store all week, John, having me to play with. You’re
sick to death of chasing skirts and missionary position. Aren’t you?”

Startled, but much calmer now, John nodded.

“You’re ready for some new horizons,” Lucy went on. “I could
tell the minute I saw you.”

“And that’s why you took me back in the alley.”

Lucy nodded. “It’s a fine and rare thing to find someone who’s
willing to keep up with me. You have been a fabulous lover. But if it’s men
you’re looking toward now, then go for it.”

John sighed. He’d been wrestling with all these things in
his head for months. Lucy explained it so simply. He could feel how right she
was.

But.

He shook his head. “You may be right. But it can’t be with
Nolan.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s my friend.”

“He’d still be your friend.”

“No.”

“What are you afraid of?”

John rubbed his eyes. “I’m afraid of being my father,” he
muttered.

Lucy looked at him steadily. “I don’t understand.”

“My father,” he repeated, louder. “He hurt people. People he
loved. Not physically, but emotionally. He cheated. On my mother. Until she
left us.”

“And you’re afraid you’re just like him?”

“I’m not like him. I’m not. But I don’t…” He met her eyes.
“You know Nolan. He needs someone he can trust. Especially after Kevin.”

“That asshole,” Lucy muttered. It sounded like more habit
than response. “You want him, John.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. I can’t do it. Not with
Nolan.” He shook his head. “I mean, what if I start something and then I can’t
go through with it? What if I chicken out? What if I’m not really into guys?”

“You don’t think Nolan would understand?”

“I don’t want to hurt him like that. And I don’t want to
screw up what we have.”

“That’s exactly what he says.”

“What?”

“He wants you, John. As much as you want him. But he’s
afraid to make a move because he doesn’t know you’re interested, and because
he’s afraid he’ll screw up your friendship if he does.” She shook her head.
“You’d be good for him, John. And he’d be good for you. But both of you are too
scared and too damn stubborn to even admit the possibility.”

Lucy stood. “I’ll be gone tomorrow. And you can go back to
living in your fantasies and trying to get what you want from women you don’t
care about. And Nolan can go back to being alone in his own heart.” She moved
close to him, touched his cheek. “Or you can both take a chance at being really
happy for once in your lives.”

Chapter Thirteen

John thought about it all day.

Lucy went home in time to make breakfast for Nolan, assuming
he got off shift on time, which was unlikely. John imagined her sleeping in his
friend’s arms all through the afternoon. Warm, soft, cozy. Loving. He wondered
if they slept naked together. Lucy would, but he wasn’t sure about Nolan. He
seemed like the pajama type, whether he was alone or not.

It would be easy enough to find out.

He wanted desperately to ignore it. He wanted to pretend
that he didn’t know—and hadn’t admitted to Lucy—that he wanted his friend so
badly. He wanted Lucy to go home, and he wanted it all to go away. He wanted to
go on lusting after Nolan in secret. He wanted Nolan to find someone new and
fall in love and be happy. He wanted to grieve over his loss in absolute
secrecy.

Or else, John decided, he wanted the longing to go away.

Or he wanted to move to Siberia and never see Nolan Crane
again. At least that way he couldn’t hurt him.

The memory of Nolan under that truck, risking his life to
save that damn dog, made it all impossible. He couldn’t forget the raw terror
he’d felt. He couldn’t ignore that depth of the grief he’d experienced just
imagining Nolan’s death. He couldn’t make any of that go away.

And it meant, of course, that what he felt for Nolan Crane
was a lot more than lust.

“Well, of course it is, you jackass,” he muttered to
himself. “If all you wanted was sex with a man, it would be easy to get. But
you don’t want just
any
man.” This was something more. Something much
more.

Something worth having. Something that would make him happy.

And if he could manage it, something that would make Nolan
happy too.

But for now, it was something terrifying.

Before Lucy, he wouldn’t have considered it. He would have
been sure he’d fuck it up, that he’d make Nolan more miserable than he’d been
before. But Lucy thought it would be okay. Lucy thought it would be great. And
she’d known Nolan a lot longer than he had. Hell, Lucy’d actually had sex with
the man. She was practically an expert compared to John.

If Lucy thought it could work…

John was so, so scared.

Just after six in the evening, Nolan called. “Hey. It’s
Lucy’s last night. We’re going to order some pizza and watch crap movies. You
should come over.”

John tried to worm out of it. “I don’t know. You must be
exhausted, working the overnight and all.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Bring beer.”

The phone went dead before John could protest any more.

* * * * *

He drove to Nolan’s house feeling like an idiot.

A nervous idiot.

A nervous
virgin
idiot.

Lucy had promised she wouldn’t say anything to Nolan. It was
all up to John whether and when he wanted to make a move. So this could be just
a pizza-and-beer night, a perfectly innocent evening.

But.

John knew perfectly well that if he went to the house, if he
was there with Lucy—sweet, heat-inducing Lucy—and Nolan was anywhere in the
vicinity—sweet, fantasy-inducing Nolan—there was no way John was
not
going to make a move. He’d made up his mind the minute he got in his car.

Maybe it had been before that. But until Lucy, he hadn’t known
how to proceed.

Lucy had made the impossible seem likely, the dangerous
enjoyable. Lucy had made John almost ready to confess his attraction to Nolan.

Maybe.

He parked in the driveway and sat in the car for a long
moment.

Probably.

It was a huge step.

He still had time to back out. He could call and make an
excuse from the safety of his own apartment.

He knew already just how lonely his apartment would be
tonight.

* * * * *

John wasn’t sure what he expected, but it seemed outright
strange for Nolan to meet him so casually at the door. “Hey, John, come on in.
We’re arguing over pizza toppings.” He took the beer and walked back toward the
kitchen. John followed. “Want one?”