Old Friends, New Lovers (Regular Sex Issue 7) (2 page)

BOOK: Old Friends, New Lovers (Regular Sex Issue 7)
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My Fox, my best
friend, my pirate.

He’s looking at
me now, and I realise I need to say something.

‘Kiss me then.’

He laughs,
because I sound like a petulant teenager. I’m startled when he gets to his
feet.

‘What are you
doing?’ I say, squinting up at him.

‘I think we
should stand up for this.’ He pulls me to my feet, catching me around the
waist, holding me loosely to him.

I’ve hugged Fox
countless times and not once have I felt this zing of electricity, as if he’s
made of lightening.

‘Ah.’ The sound
comes from him, a surprised acknowledgment that he feels it too. I’m not surprised.
It probably registered as a meteorological event.

I don’t know why,
but I put my hands up in front of me, my fingers splayed, and he steps closer
and lays his bigger hands flat against mine, palm to palm. We are mime artists,
performing for the tiny birds who’ve taken flight again and are dipping
excitedly in and out between us.

‘Ready?’ he
whispers, curling his fingers between mine to hold my hands.

‘I think so,’ I
breathe.

We’re so close
now that his breath warms my face, and I tighten my grip on his hands when he
lowers his head.

This man has held
my hands through some of the toughest times of my life, and now he’s holding
them through one of the most pivotal. I know it’s pivotal, because the second
his warm lips touch mine, my world tilts slightly sideways on its axle. The air
around us changes; you know that haze you see on the hottest day of the year?
It feels like that.

My eyelids drift
down as Fox breathes electricity from his body into mine. His lips begin to
love mine. That’s honestly what it feels like. It’s the kiss he never gave me
on our eighteenth birthdays, one that’s been coming since we were scabby-kneed seven-year-old
kids who couldn’t stand the sight of each other.

I know I don’t
have a lot of experience to go on, but this kiss... if I live to be one
hundred, no other kiss will come close. Fox holds my hands as he kisses me too
briefly, lingering just long enough to make sure I know the difference between
this and the countless pecks we’ve shared in the past.
Oh, I know the
difference
. He strikes the perfect balance, not soft and yielding, not hard
and demanding. It’s five seconds of wonderful, five seconds when my heart stops
and falls out of my body into his.

I want to let go
of his hands and clutch him, for him to let go and touch me, but he doesn’t. He
holds onto my hands between our bodies and kisses me, his eyes closed, giving
me the barely there drift of his tongue against my parted lips.

When he lifts his
head and opens his eyes, my love for him drowns me. It’s not gradual, like the
tide coming in. It’s sudden, like a storm barrier breaking and washing a town
away.

He untangles his
fingers from mine and pulls me into him. He holds me, and then he crushes me,
an unguarded show of his hand as he whispers against my hair.

‘Do we need to
drink more rum and talk shit, Mabes?’

I wrap my arms
around him, drawing reassurance from the warmth of his body, taking his strength
for my own because I need courage to say what I must.

‘I think we need
to have sex, Fox.’

 

Jesus fucking
Christ. Mabes has just suggested we should have sex. I’ve had this girl every
imaginable way a million times over in my head, but none of it has ever
compared to the reality of holding her, of kissing her. It’s like winning the
lottery without even buying a ticket, and I don’t know what to fucking do with
myself, with her, because this isn’t going to be just sex. I’ve had a lot of
sex in my life, and it doesn’t begin like this.

It doesn’t begin
when you’re too young to even know about the birds and the bees, or when you drunkenly
spill your guts out in an eighteenth birthday card. This thing has been coming
our whole damn lives, and now it’s here, and I’m scared shitless that I’m gonna
fuck it up because this is
Mabes
. My sweet, fucking beautiful best
friend, the one who’s been totally off limits because the idea of not having
her in my life is incompatible with carrying on.

But I’ve kissed
her now. I’ve crossed the line, and she crossed it with me. She kissed me back.

Her hair smells
like summertime when I haul her against me, and if I was a man who needed a
religion to believe in, she’d be it, because I fucking worship this woman. I
have for all of my life. I’ve slept my way around the world searching for someone
who means more than she does, and no one came anywhere close. I know why now. When
I hold her like this, kiss her like this, I know why. In all of the years I’ve spent
away from Mabes, I’ve left my heart with her for safekeeping. She’s had it
tucked inside her eighteenth birthday card all along, we just haven’t realised
it until now.

‘Have you changed
your mind on me, pirate?’

I laugh against her
dark, slippery hair.

‘Taking it slow,’
I murmur, and I loosen my grip so I can run my hands down her spine. She
shivers as I look down into her wide, grey-green eyes. There’s a look in them I’ve
never seen before. She’s turned on, and holy fucking god, I feel as if someone
has wired me into the grid because I’ve put that look on her face.

‘Mabes...’ I say
her name, and I cup her sweetheart face in my hands, and I kiss her again. Her
mouth yields, opens, and when her tongue touches over mine, I can’t hold back. I
push my hands into her hair and cup her head, tilting her mouth up so I can take
more from her. She moans, a pure fucking sex moan, and I groan because I’ve
never heard anything so sexual in my life. Her fingers pick open the buttons of
my shirt, and she’s breathing erratically when she drags it down my arms. I’m
half naked, and I want to feel her skin on mine in a way that feels more animal
than human.

‘How does this
come off?’ I run my hands over her dress looking for a zip, or buttons, anything
I can find to get her out of it.

In answer, she
bends a little and lifts it over her head in one swift movement, revealing
herself to me as she straightens and lets it fall from her hand.

It’s a moment I
never want to forget. The look in her eyes is dynamite, a bolt of sudden
shyness because this is us, underscored with bold, sexy, fuck me lust.

‘I’m close to
losing it,’ I whisper and pull her into me, lifting her, pressing her exposed
stomach against mine and almost gasping with relief at the intimacy.

‘Good,’ she says.
‘Lose it, Fox. Take me to bed and show me how it’s meant to be.’

 

Any trace of doubt
left my mind the moment Fox kissed me, and right now I feel as if I am a girl on
fire. He isn’t my best friend tonight. He’s carrying me down the hall, kissing
me hard and open mouthed like I’m crack and he’s an addict, and he’s just
kicked my bedroom door open like a goddamn superhero. He lays me down and I
pull him on top of me, his mouth still on mine because this kiss has us both on
the ropes. He takes his weight on his elbows so he doesn’t crush me, and I feel
the rock hard evidence that he’s as turned on as I am pressing between my legs.

I’ve never been
kissed this way. The sensation happens in my mouth, and inside my chest, and in
the pit of my stomach all at the same time. It pulses and ripples and soars,
tightening with every hot stroke of his tongue inside my mouth until I care
about nothing and no one, only about here, now, and about Fox.

When he reaches
behind me to unclip my bra, I arch to help him, and then for a second, I think ‘Fox
is taking my bra off,’ and that tightening inside me winds deeper down from the
pit of my stomach to between my legs. I’m damp for him, moving against his
swollen cock, burning to be touched.

He mouths my
neck, flicking his tongue against my pulse when he cups my bare breasts for the
first time. His hands, oh god his hands, they’re warm and tender, they’re firm
and possessive, and they’re filthy and clever. He holds me, and he moans
against me when I thread my fingers into his dark hair and hold his face to my
breast. I watch his tongue trail over me, how he licks my nipple, the way he looks
up and watches my eyes when he bites the nub between his teeth. I wrap my legs
around his hips and he reacts by pushing into me, squeezing my breasts so his
mouth can be all over them.

There’s a tempo
to our sex; it builds like the theme from Zorba the Greek, moving from steady
to breakneck speed.

‘I don’t think I
can take it slow any longer, Mabes,’ he says, sliding back up my body and
kissing me with an honest depravity that shocks me. Our teeth clash and his
chest heaves into mine as if we cannot get enough of each other, as if he
cannot kiss me deeply enough to satisfy us. I wrap all of my limbs around him,
marking him as my own, tilting my head to take his tongue deeper into my mouth.

I open my eyes
when he reaches between our bodies and pushes his hand inside my knickers,
spreading me, touching me in a way that lifts my head from the pillow with
painfully pure brilliance. It’s dazzling.

‘Oh god, Fox, oh
god.’ I can hear myself, my incoherent, choked out words, as he stares into my
eyes and bites my bottom lip, urging me on.

He finds my
clitoris with a sliding rhythm, a slippery, tight figure of eight. His breath
is shallow and fast, and my heart feels as if it’s going to rip out of my chest.
I need to fuck him, but I can’t move because my clitoris and his hand are making
love to each other in a way that makes all those tiny birds sing like
nightingales and wrings damp pleasure tears from my eyes.

Fox watches me
tense, and his pupils dilate dark with lust as my body starts to tremble for
him.

‘Jesus, Mabes, I’ve
never seen anything as fucking sexy as you in my life,’ he whispers as I come
hard, gasping in shock at the ferocity of my orgasm. He stays with me, keeps
his hands and his eyes on me until I go limp and he cradles me close.

‘Take your jeans
off and get under the sheets with me, Fox. I want to lie naked in bed with you.’

It takes seconds
at most, and I push my underwear down my legs as he slips between the sheets
and tangles his limbs with mine. It’s the most natural, deeply abiding feeling
being nude in bed with Fox. I already miss the years we should have spent
together up to now, and I know that there won’t be another day in my life when
I am not his and he is not mine.

We’re lying face
to face, and I lift my leg over his hip and fit myself against him as his hands
move on me, restless down my back and over my ass.

‘Mabes...’ he
speaks my name quietly over and over again, rocking his hips as he groans under
his breath. He’s lost in his needs and I revel in watching him, in feeling the
hard swell of his erection between my legs.

I brace as he sheathes
himself then moves against me, positioning himself to thrust, and even still
the heady, delicious thrills shocks me when he finally pushes himself inside my
body. I wrap myself against him, locking him in, taking his tongue into my
mouth as he kisses me. It’s deep, and raw, and the most beautiful thing that’s
ever happened to me. We are connected everywhere, our mouths, our bodies, our
minds. He’s as deep in me as he could be, and Zorba the Greek is dancing for us
both this time, dragging us hastily towards that plate-smashing climax. Fox
fucks himself into me harder and faster, his fingers wound tight in my hair as
my second orgasm bursts between my legs. He follows me, gasping harshly for
breath, slamming against my hips, over and over, deeper and harder, and I wrap
my arms around his head and shoulders when he comes and love every last drop
out of him, my mouth on his closed eyes, his cheeks, his mouth. He kisses me
back, slower now, languid, the kiss of a satisfied man.

 

Christ. How can I
have reached thirty and not known how it feels to make love to a woman? There
are a million and one filthy things I’m looking forward to teaching Mabes, but
I don’t think anything will beat our first magnificent fuck.

I wasn’t kidding
when we were eighteen. I wanted to marry her back then, and I only want to marry
her more now. I close my eyes, wondering if she still has that birthday card
and the plastic engagement ring.

 

So that’s what it
feels like to make love. I’m so glad I didn’t marry Brynn, because I know now
that I’ve loved Fox since the day he gave me his battered copy of Swallows and Amazons,
the same book that lies wrapped in birthday paper on my dining room table.

I fall asleep
with a kaleidoscope of images turning in my head; of a sarcastic, scowling seven-year-old
boy, of an eighteen-year-old man-boy with wanderlust in the soles of his boots,
and of the thirty-year-old man in whose arms I now lie with my head on his
beating heart.

‘Happy birthday
to us, Fox.’

 

I hope you enjoyed Fox and Mabes’
birthday.

 

Click to preview issue 8 now, in
US
or
UK

 

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Copyright © 2016 Kitty French

 

All rights reserved. This book or any part thereof
may not be
reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of
the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

 

 

OTHER BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR

 

The Lucien Knight Trilogy:

 

Knight & Play

Knight & Stay

Knight & Day

 

(Also available as a box set)

The
Complete Knight Trilogy - The USA Today Best-selling Lucien Knight Erotic
Series

 

Knight & Sleigh – An erotic Lucien Knight
Christmas novella

 

Genie - A Burlesque Erotic Romance

 

Wanderlust

 

Regular Sex 1 – The Commute
US
/
UK

Regular Sex 2 – Never have Sex with Your Ex
US
/
UK

Regular Sex 3 – Do it like Magic Mike
US
/
UK

Regular Sex 4 – Meet me at the Kama Sutra
US
/
UK

Regular Sex 5 – Maid for you
US
/
UK

Regular Sex 6 – NSFW
US
/
UK

 

 

Kitty also writes romantic comedies under the
pseudonym Kat French

 

Undertaking Love

Blaze

The Stained Glass Heart

The Piano Man Project

One Hot Summer (May 2016)

BOOK: Old Friends, New Lovers (Regular Sex Issue 7)
4.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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