Page 35 of The Friend Zone

I want, no Ineedmore.

My hands cup her perfect tits and I massage, her nipples already hard under the wet fabric of her thin sweater.

I’m not gentle as I grind my hips into hers, barely resisting the urge to rip her clothes off right here and now.

The delicate skin of the column of her neck is an invitation I can’t resist when Bay arches into my body, seeking more contact.

I kiss and nip my way down to her collarbone, kissing and sucking in a way that I know will leave a mark.

Good. Satisfaction swells in my chest at the idea of her seeing those marks tomorrow and thinking about me.

I want to live rent free in her head, just like she has in mine since she left me high and dry in that aircraft bathroom.

“Ryker.”

The sound of my name on her lips makes me reach fever pitch. I want to hear that sound again, it’s like I’m addicted to it.

I forget that we’re outside, pressed against a door while a fall storm rages all around us.

My hands leave her tits to skim down her slender waist and her shapely hips.

Thank fuck for skirts. Whoever invented them has my undying gratitude.

The skin of her thighs is smooth and soft but my target is a little higher.

I move the lace of her panties to the side, pressing two fingers against the bare skin of her slit.

“Hmm,” I murmur, parting her skin and finding her clit. “You’re soaking wet, Bay.”

It’s her turn to nip at my lips. “And it’s not because of the rain.”

Satisfied by her admission, I reward her with a couple of light, lazy circles around her clit. “I’m not sorry about it.”

She shakes her head, playing with the short hair at the nape of my neck. “Me neither.”

That’s all the encouragement I need to increase the pressure on her most sensitive spot. But soon that’s not enough. My fingers find no resistance when they reach down to her entrance. I slide two fingers inside her warmth, thrusting them in and out, making sure I keep hitting her clit with the heel of my hand.

“Oh my God, Ryker,” she pants, bucking her hips to get more contact.

I know she’s close when her body tenses up against mine. “Let go, Bay. Come for me.”

She doesn’t let me ask twice. Her inner walls squeeze my fingers in a viselike grip and I can’t help but wish it was another part of me to experience this.

“Ryker,” she pulls me in for a deep, passionate kiss. “That was…”

Bay’s hands leave my neck, traveling down to my chest and stomach, feeling the taut muscles under my wet t-shirt.

“You’re so hard.” Her tone is winded, almost breathless.

“You don’t know the half of it,” I groan as she traces my erection through my jeans.

“I want to know.”

Her fingers pop the button in my jeans and that snaps me out of it. “No,” I say, ignoring the way my cock is screaming at me. “I want you so fucking much, Cinnamon. But not like this. Not out here.”

“Oh,” Bay lowers her gaze, beginning to shut down in that way of hers whenever she feels rejected.

“Come home with me, please.” I say, bringing her knuckles to my lips. “When I get to be inside of you, I don’t want to rush. I don’t want to worry about anyone seeing us. I want to enjoy every second. Come home with me, Cinnamon.”