Loving My Best Friend Read online

  “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is so deep and commanding. It hits me right between the legs. I’ve never been into men telling me what to do before, mostly because they tell me to do dumb things. This is Jack, though, and I can’t shake the part of me that knows to let him tell me what to do could be very, very hot.

  I turn back to look at him, and that’s a mistake because he’s so beautiful he takes my breath away. The soft gold of the lamps make his skin look golden, and he looks strong, capable, and sexy as hell in his suit.

  “I’m leaving,” I say a little desperately. Why does this one man have so much power over me?

  “Because I asked you what you want?” he asks, incredulous.

  “Because what I want isn’t going to be what you want, and I’m not really up for a mature discussion about it right now.”

  “Try me,” he says, his voice dangerously soft.

  I bite my lip. Twenty-five years of friendship is telling me to tell him. Because this is Jack, and I can tell him anything. I’m also a woman, though, and I’ve still got my pride.

  Jack puts his whiskey down and takes a step toward me. His hand cups my face. “Come on, Evvie. I can give you anything you want. I promise.” His hands trail down to rest on the small of my back. He’s keeping me close, but his touch is light enough to let me step back if I want to.

  He lowers his mouth until I can feel the warmth of his breath on my jaw. “What do you want, Evvie?”

  I close my eyes. “I want you,” I admit.

  “I gathered that,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. He drops a feather-light kiss on each of my closed eyelids. “What I’m asking, is how do you want me?”

  Oh. Oh.

  My eyes fly open. He’s smiling down at me, eyebrow arched.

  “What?” Jack asks. “Did you think that I was just going to do whatever I wanted without taking care of you first?”

  Well, yes.

  “What kind of men have you been sleeping with?” he asks, dangerously, and this time, it’s not the sexy kind of the dangerous. It’s the pissed-at-someone-who-treated-my-best-friend-poorly kind of dangerous.

  “Don’t think of them,” I say quickly, rising up on my tiptoes to kiss him. “Think of me.”

  He kisses me back, and before I know it, he’s lifting me. I wrap my legs around his waist for balance. He breaks the kiss and smiles up at me. “You’re right. You’re much more fun to think about.”

  His lips find mine again. I love kissing him. It’s like diving into a lake on a hot summer day. Perfect every time. Every time we come up for air, I’m a little disoriented to realize we’re somewhere as prosaic as a hotel room. I bite back a laugh, thinking how annoyed Jack would be if he knew I’d just called his gorgeous hotel prosaic, even in my head.

  “What is it?” he asks, his lips trailing over my jaw.

  “Nothing.”

  “Go on. Tell me.” He nips my ear, and I gasp. He groans. “Okay, fine. Don’t tell me what’s making you smile, but please, for the love of God, tell me what you’re in the mood for because I’m losing my mind over here.”

  Oh, you are? That’s lovely. I shift my hips, loving that Jack is losing his mind over me, and as I rock against his hardness, his hands dig into my ass, and he makes a low, desperate sound in his throat. He tosses me on the bed and crawls over me.

  “Hmm. What do I want?” I smile coyly up at him, my confidence growing each time I get his control a little closer to snapping.

  He’s not going to say no to me. He wants me desperately, at least for tonight. He says I can have him any way I want, and because it’s Jack, I know he’ll do it really, really well.

  This is going to be fun.

  I reach up and trail my hand along the tie he’s already loosened and untie it the rest of the way.

  “I’ve never been tied up before, but I don’t want to ask for something you aren’t into,” I say speculatively. “Would you like to tie me up? I’d be so helpless. You could do anything you wanted to me.”

  Jack shudders.

  “Of course, I could only ask for that if I knew you’d take care of me. Would you take care of me, Jack?” I tease.

  He’s already nodding as he rips off his tie, stretches my arms above my head, and winds the silk of his tie around my wrists. Now it’s my turn to shudder. He lowers his mouth to mine, and I know as soon as his lips touch mine, I’ll lose any bit of power I have.

  “On the other hand,” I blurt, “maybe I want to be the one tying up you. Then, I’d be the one with all the power as I decided if I wanted to ride you hard or suck your big fat—”

  Jack lets go of the tie to cover my mouth with his hand, and the silk falls soft and loose around my wrists.

  “I promise we can work our way through each and every one of your fantasies. However long it takes. But please, stop messing with me so I can give you what you want and then fuck your brains out.”

  I blink up at him, shocked.

  Jack lifts his hand from my mouth, his brow knit in concern. “What? Too crude?”

  I swallow. “You said however long it takes. Like there was going to be a next time. More than one next time.”

  Jack watches me, wary, tension in every line of his body.

  Of course he didn’t mean it literally.

  My own heart is a thudding, inconvenient thing. I assumed this was a one-night thing, and I was fine with that, but then for a second, I thought …

  I make myself smile. “Forget I said anything. I know it’s just a thing people say.” I rise up to kiss him and reach down to rub his cock, figuring that will distract him enough to move us past the awkwardness. He bucks into my touch instinctively, and I feel myself slipping back into that magic spell we were weaving together.

  A few more strokes, and then I’m fumbling for his zipper hungrily before he groans and catches my hand. “Evvie. Evvie, look at me.”

  “I don’t want to be serious,” I complain.

  “You don’t have to be, but I am. I want a next time.”

  I peek up at him shyly. I want to believe him. I don’t want to be one of those women who is so insecure she can’t trust her partner. But this is Jack. He’s had maybe three relationships in the last ten years, and none of them lasted more than a year.

  “I have a lot of fantasies,” I warn.

  “Good,” Jack says. “Since you can’t seem to pick one, we’ll start with the first one you told me about.”

  My lips part. “You’re tying me up?”

  “That is a good idea, but it’s not the first fantasy you told me,” he says. He sits back, then stands to go get his whiskey. “Take off the dress.”

  He says it in that commanding tone that makes me go all liquid. I twist to unzip the back of the dress and quickly tug it over my head, assuming he’s getting undressed, too. When I look back at him, he’s still in his suit, standing over me, sipping that whiskey as his eyes take in my sheer lacy nude bra that suddenly feels too tight. He glances down at my panties and smiles in that satisfied male way I normally hate. He looks like he knows something I don’t.

  “What fantasy is this again?” I ask, going for irritated but just sounding turned-on.

  “You said you wanted a quick, hot fuck. That, Eva, is exactly what I’m going to give you.”

  I part my legs in a helpless invitation and try to remember to breathe.

  9

  Jack

  Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She bought a vibrator, which isn’t a big deal, except I can’t stop thinking of her now. I can’t stop thinking of her using it, I can’t JKASDJFAJKJDKKDSAKKJ

  I can’t send this to you. I’m a fucking idiot.

  —Jack McBride, unsent text to a friend, senior year at Columbia, deleted immediately

  It’s a good thing Eva’s fantasy involves the word quick because looking at her flushed and nearly naked on my bed is my undoing. I want this to be good for her. Stellar good. I want it to be so good she doesn’t stop to think about the ways
I’m changing our friendship until we’ve been dating for six months. Then she looks up one day and realizes she can’t imagine her life without me.

  Which means I need to get myself back under control. I sip my whiskey. “Touch yourself.”

  Eva blushes, and it’s so hot and sweet that I almost give up on the game-playing and take her right then and there.

  I think she’s going to say no, but she takes a deep breath and brings her hands up to stroke her breasts.

  I set the whiskey down too hard on the table behind me. This wasn’t what I meant by touch yourself, but it’s really fucking hot all the same. She pinches her nipples, and I take a step toward the bed.

  “Good, Evvie. Good.” My voice is so husky and desperate I barely recognize it. “Now take off the bra.”

  “Take your jacket off,” she bargains, and I bite back a grin. We can play that game if she wants to. I’ve got a lot more clothing on than she does. I shrug out of my jacket. She takes off her bra, and I take another few steps to the bed. I’m about to take off my shirt, but then I remember something Eva said one time when we were drunk and talking about things the other sex does that are unintentionally sexy. She said she had a thing for guys in button-ups rolling up their shirt sleeves.

  I’m not sure if she was telling the truth or messing with me, but it seems like as good a time as any to test it. I slowly roll up my sleeves as I take the last few steps to the bed. She looks at my forearms and literally whimpers.

  “I need you to do one more thing, Evvie. Show me how you masturbate.”

  “Jack!” she says, scandalized, and I laugh, crawling toward her on the bed. I kiss the protests from her lips as I capture her hand and slide her fingertips under her panties.

  “Normally, I’d want to take my time and learn your body thoroughly,” I say, soft and low against her ear. “But somebody wanted a quick, hot fuck.”

  She twists under me, restless.

  “Come on, Evvie,” I coax. “Show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone.”

  She pulls her hand away from her panties, and I let go, disappointed but understanding. I pushed her too far. She’s not as experienced as I am. Then she shoves off her panties, rolls over onto her hands and knees, and starts working her clit.

  My balls tighten painfully as I watch her fingers and her ass and …

  Breathe, Jack. Breathe. You’re supposed to be wooing her. Not treating her like free porn.

  “What …” I clear my throat. “What do you think about?”

  “Getting taken from behind,” she says.

  So I slide two fingers inside her. She gives a little moan that’s going to be seared into my memory until the day I die. I fuck her faster with my fingers, and her hips jerk.

  “What’s this fantasy man like?” I demand.

  “Big. Confident.” She’s panting now, her fingers and mine sending her closer to the edge. “He wants me so much he can’t wait.”

  My heart skips a beat, and I wonder if that’s a reference to what I said to her on the sidewalk, but she just moans and rocks harder against my fingers.

  “He’s not wearing a condom,” she says, and I give a husky laugh.

  “Not very safe,” I tease. “I’m clean, but we still need birth control.”

  “I’m on the pill. And I’m clean, too.”

  I freeze.

  She whimpers and rocks against my motionless fingers. “Please, Jack. Please. It’s just a fantasy. You can wear a condom if it makes you more comfortable. I wouldn’t have said anything, but it’s you, and I trust you. Just please don’t make me wait.”

  I pull away from Eva to unzip my fly, which is when I remember I’m completely dressed and she’s completely naked.

  It probably makes me a jackass that I like that discrepancy so much. I like her vulnerable, panting, touching her pussy because I told her to, and begging me to take her.

  So I do. When I slide into her, it’s as exciting as a fantasy and as sweet as home. I wrap my hand in Eva’s hair and give it a gentle tug, liking the way it makes her arch her back as I thrust savagely into her.

  I’m losing control.

  I kiss her neck. She’s shaking and moaning and pressing back into me in a way that’s hot as hell. I’m trying to hold off—she hasn’t even come yet—and the kiss on her neck turns to a bite because she’s so hot and she’s torturing me so much. She gasps and arches into me.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask, trying to distract myself with whatever’s next in Eva’s fantasy.

  “You,” she moans. “Just you.”

  Any control I have completely snaps. I ride her hard and fast, losing myself in her softness, her scent, the hitch in her breath, and the little sounds she’s making until she tightens around me and I come and come, biting her shoulder to keep from shouting so loud that everyone in the hotel hears me.

  As the bright fog of the best sex I’ve ever had slowly clears, I realize something horrible.

  “Shit. You haven’t come yet.” I pull out and move her until we’re lying face to face on the bed. “I’m so sorry, Eva. I was trying to hold out, but you felt so good, and I …” I bite back the words, embarrassed by how much of a teenager I sound.

  I wanted to make this all about her, but she didn’t even come.

  Eva presses her thumb into my forehead and smoothes out the frown there. “You act like you’re never the one to come first.”

  “I’m not. Not since I turned twenty. There’s a process. I take care of her needs, then I take care of mine, but your needs were really, really hot,” I confess helplessly.

  She laughs, shyly and a little delighted. “It’s okay, Jack. Sex is messy. You’re not a jerk just because you came first. It’s still fun even if I don’t come.”

  “Who says you’re not coming?” I say, flipping Eva onto her back. Her eyes widen appreciatively, and I like that so damn much. I kiss my way down her body, and she gasps as she realizes what I’m doing.

  “Just relax. I can fix this,” I reassure her.

  “Jack, you don’t have to … oh, oh, oh.” She trails off as I kiss her clit then linger over every sensitive spot I can find. I stroke and suck and kiss until she’s twisting helplessly in my hands. Her hands tighten in my hair, and it’s the best hurt in the world. She keeps saying things like you don’t have to and it’s fine, but her hands in my hair are keeping me exactly where she wants me, and it’s really, really hot.

  I don’t know what man in Eva’s past made her feel like going down on her was a chore instead of a privilege, but he needs to fucking pay.

  Don’t think of them. Think of me.

  So I raise myself and look Eva dead in the eye. “We did your fantasy. Now we’re doing mine.”

  Her lips part in surprise, but then she nods slowly. Tentatively, she relaxes into the pillows, trusting me to take care of her, and the sweetness of that gesture nearly undoes me.

  This time when I go down on her, instead of telling me I don’t have to, Eva lets herself sink into the pleasure until she’s moaning. Then she’s urging me on. Then she’s tensing and coming, over and over again.

  I stroke her gently through the aftershocks, whispering how wonderful, how perfect she is. How there’s no one like her.

  Then we do my fantasy a few more times for good measure.

  10

  Eva

  Jack, I know you’re mad at me for missing your birthday party. But I have some really bad news. My parents are making me move to California. They told me right before your party. I didn’t think I could get through the night without crying, and I didn’t want to ruin it for you. Can you forgive me, so at least we can say goodbye?

  —Eva Price, text to Jack, halfway through junior year of high school

  I sit bolt upright in bed in sheer panic, trying to figure out what woke me up. Next to me, Jack sits up groggily and grabs his phone. My phone’s going off, too, with the special ring I use for reporters.

  Ah. Thus comes the panic.


  I reach for my phone, already calming down. The only client I have right now is the hotel, and there’s no crisis there. I glance at the screen. It’s Amy, a local business and politics reporter I know from my crisis PR days. She’s tough but fair.

  I answer the phone. “Eva Price. How can I help you, Amy?”

  “Hey, Eva. I’m sorry to call so early, but there have been some troubling allegations about your work at Rose Hotels, and I wanted to get your side before the story breaks.”

  I look at Jack, who’s scowling as he listens to his own phone.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

  “CityScoop posted a photo of you and Jack McBride kissing in front of the hotel last night. They’re suggesting you got your current position at Rose Hotels by sleeping with Mr. McBride.”

  Shit. I clutch the sheet to myself. I feel so incredibly naked. There are pictures of Jack and me from last night? But why would Amy care? CityScoop is one thing—they’re just a gossip site—but Amy freelances for legitimate news outlets.

  “I don’t make it a practice to read CityScoop,” I say, trying to buy time. “And, off the record, this doesn’t seem like your kind of story, Amy.”

  “It is if there were professional dynamics at play.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Amy, I just woke up. Spit it out.”

  “Did McBride sexually harass you?”

  Fuck. The sheet falls from my hand in shock.

  I’ve got to get ahead of this. I’ve got to protect Jack. And I’ve got to do it in a way that doesn’t destroy what little remains of my professional reputation. My gut instinct is to deny both her allegations, but I’ve seen what happens when people give reporters half-baked denials. You’ve got one shot to get the truth out there, and if you don’t sound perfectly, flawlessly convincing, the story will follow you forever.

  “When do you need a quote by?” I ask.