Page 30 of The Dating Pact

I needed her to keep it light. Keep me here with her and not in my past.

I raised my head, our eyes meeting, and both of us stilled, acknowledging the importance of this moment. At least, that was what I assumed. She could’ve been mentally counting bushels of corn or something, and the idea of possibly wasting this opportunity made me refocus.

I kissed her as I pushed her hand away from me, but when she attempted to grip me again, I nipped at her lips. “After. You first.” I held her wrist above her head so she couldn’t try again, and her eyes sparkled with something I didn’t understand. “What?”

“I like that.” She tipped her head and arched her back, which pushed her breasts up toward me, and I left an openmouthed kiss between them.

“Like what? This?” I tightened my grasp on her wrist, and she nodded, a secretive smile crawling across her face. “Are you…” I lifted myself up a bit to get a better look at her. “Are you into…stuff?”

“Stuff?” She laughed at me. “Sure. I’m into stuff.”

I had no idea. Not that we talked a lot about sex, but it had come up a handful of times in our conversations, and never once had she mentioned what she liked. Then again, she would have had no reason to because we were buddies.

Pals.

Best friends.

Who, up until this very moment, didn’t cross any lines.

Yet we were so far past any line, we couldn’t see one anymore. Probably wouldn’t even be able to find our way back if we wanted to.

“Are you into stuff?” she asked, rotating her hips under my hand since I’d momentarily lost track of what I was doing. I gently pressed my fingers inside her, feeling how tight she was, offering her a few experimental thrusts before I went back to her clit, rubbing in the way she needed.

“I don’t know,” I said, finally answering her question. “I’ve never…” I’d never had complaints about my sex life, although thinking about it, I guessed it was pretty vanilla. “I’ve never really tried anything.”

Not that I was opposed to it, but it’d never come up before.

She only pressed a kiss against my lips, licking into my mouth like she wanted to soothe me, ease me back into the moment with her, and I was grateful. I moved my fingers faster, drawing a sharp intake of breath out of her, and I could tell she was close to orgasming from the way her kiss turned biting and then eventually mindless, merely her lips against mine, her panting breaths hot and fast.

And then I felt it, the rigid tensing of her limbs and release of it all with a sigh. She relaxed under me, crashing her head back to the cushion, her face, neck, and chest red. I let go of her wrist and dragged my palm down her arm and between her breasts as she blinked her eyes open to me. Her smile nothing short of beatific.

“All right, honeybee?”

“Very all right.” She pushed up, reaching for the elastic of my athletic shorts, jerking it down to get to my boxer briefs, the outline of my erection visible through the light-gray cotton. She folded those down too, allowing my cock to jut out toward her. On my knees, I was slightly higher than her, and she tipped her head back. I swore it felt like an electrical shock when she leaned forward, licking the dot of moisture off the tip.

Still, I didn’t look away. She didn’t either.

She wrapped her hand tightly around my thick length, pulling, and I shook my head. “I won’t last long.”

“It’s okay,” she said and lay back down, widening her legs in invitation.

I turned around, intent on grabbing the box of condoms, but she stopped me with a quiet reminder. “I can’t get pregnant.”

I faced her again, brows raised. “You don’t want to use one?”

“We can, but I can’t get pregnant and haven’t had sex in over a year.” I didn’t need to tell her how long it’d been for me. She knew. “I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it.”

Again, the trust. It made my chest ache with how much she gave me, how much faith she put in me. And perhaps it was because we were such good friends. What we had was more than a fling or a one-night stand, and she knew I’d never hurt her. Like she’d never hurt me.

“Okay,” I agreed and opened the bottle of lube again, squeezing some onto my fingers to spread along my shaft. I wiped my fingers off on my discarded T-shirt before settling over her. She brought her knees up to her sides, and I notched the shiny head of my cock at her entrance.

“Tell me if it hurts or you need more lube,” I instructed, and she draped her arms over my shoulders.

“You tell me if you need to stop,” she said, and I rested my forehead to hers, silently thanking her for being so understanding and uncomplicated.

I kissed her once then pushed in, both of us gasping. There was no shattering earthquake or dark thunderstorm like I feared might overcome me the first time I had sex again. There was only heat and pleasure and the embrace of Brooke’s arms around me.

Inch by inch, I entered her, until eventually, I was seated completely inside, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, holding me tight to her, one hand roaming over my back, the other combing through my hair.

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