Friend Zoned: Sugar Rush Part 25

Max I look down into those gorgeous, bright green eyes and a small part of the bitterness inside of me dies. She doesn't just look at me. She sees more of me than most people, and I don't know why I'm letting that happen.

This is not going to end well. It's not going to end well for me.

As she's standing there in nothing but a lacy black bra and a mini skirt that's so mini it's basically microscopic, I grip her hips tight. If I don't, I'll throw her on the ground, tear her clothes off, and f.u.c.k her like an animal. And Helena doesn't deserve that. She's a lady. She deserves something good.

My heart pounds in time with the pulsing of my c.o.c.k.

I want to give her something good. I want to give her me.

My eyes trail the length of her body and I can't believe how lucky I am. This tiny woman has porcelain smooth skin, long, dark, wavy hair, t.i.ts that all but spill out of her bra, a soft belly, tight legs, and an a.s.s any man would be proud to say is his, not to mention her s.e.xy-a.s.s bee-stung lips.

But there's more. There's more, and I don't want to admit it. I'm starting to feel something for her. Something more than friends. And I know if I let this happen, I'm going to pay for it with my heart.

Again.

Helena Dragging him behind me, I pull him into my bedroom and move to turn on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in soft light. I make my way to the foot of the bed, where I left him standing. When I reach him, I look up at him while my fingers tug at the b.u.t.ton of his jeans. It's harder than it looks. I yank at it 'til it decides to cooperate. When it's finally free, I slump in relief. He cups my cheek and I lean into it as I slowly pull on his zipper. And, at long last, he's open to me.

Turning my head, I breathe into his palm, planting a wet kiss right in the center of it. Carefully, I reach inside the open flap of his jeans. My fingers wrap around his boxer-covered length, my core clenches at his sudden intake of breath, and I'm mildly alarmed.

He's got a bratwurst down there.

It's thick and long, and burning up. I want to feel skin-on-skin, but I know I need to make this last. My fingers tighten around him and begin to move up and down slowly. Up and down, pulling and squeezing as I do. His hand still at my cheek, I turn, part my lips, and take his thumb into my mouth all the way, sucking in time with my tugs. A low groan is torn from him, and by the sound of it, he's in pain.

"Sit." This comes out so huskily it doesn't even sound like me. He does what I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed, and I have yet to remove my hand from him, fearing if I do, he'll change his mind.

Stupid moral man!

As soon as he's seated, I release my hold on him, reach up, and pull down his jeans. They come off easily. I don't remove the boxers. They're black and silky, and he looks amazing in them. With his back to the lamp, the front of his body is shadowed. I kneel in front of him, undo the b.u.t.ton on the front of his boxers, and look into his eyes. "I've missed this," I whisper. Reaching inside the slit, I take hold of his hot, hard length and he hisses. Rather than shy away, I grip him tighter and pull him through the opening.

All I can do is blink.

It's magnificent. The skin feels soft, but in the dim light, I see his c.o.c.k and swallow hard. It's angry looking. The length is rock-hard, veined, and the tip is red. A single pearl of prec.u.m spills out from his slit. I repeat myself, quieter this time, "I've missed this." Then, I lower my head and gently lick up the stray drop. The sweet saltiness. .h.i.ts me like a shot of adrenalin. I open my mouth as wide as I can and take him into my mouth.

I moan around him. He groans in unison. We're a symphony of s.e.x, and it's making me hotter than h.e.l.l. I suck him as deep as I can, then slide back up to the tip. The next time I suck him in, I hollow my cheeks. His growl fuels me. "f.u.c.k, baby. That's it. Suck me hard."

Running my hands up his thighs, I scratch them lightly on the way down as I bob my head, reveling in the clean taste of him. Suddenly, I'm knocked back as he stands, quick as lightning. Sitting flat on my a.s.s, I blink up at him, and then glower, "What the f.u.c.kity f.u.c.k?"

Eyes closed, teeth gritted, squeezing his c.o.c.k tighter than I've ever seen a man squeeze one before, he mutters, "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Please, shut up."

Oh.

It hits me.

He's going to come.

My pride smiles and puffs out its chest while strutting around like a peac.o.c.k. Panting, he squeezes himself tighter, groans, and then tips his head back, mumbling, "Sorry, baby. Gonna come. s.h.i.+t. Sorry."

He drops his head, eyes apologetic. I quickly move to kneel in front of him once more. There's no need to explain my intentions when I reach up to pull down the cups of my bra, exposing my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Biting my lip, my fingertips glide over the smooth skin of one breast while I tweak the nipple of the other. I watch through hooded eyes as his taut stomach contracts as he tries to remain in control. Suddenly, his gorgeous face turns blissful. He replaces the firm hold on his c.o.c.k with a looser grip. His lips part, his breathing heavies, and his entire body stills and then shakes as a low growl escapes him.

Wet warmth hits my chest. Once, twice, three then four times. The wetness slides down, over my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, in-between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, over one nipple. My p.u.s.s.y convulses. I'm deliciously wet.

s.h.i.+t.

I'm already there.

As in there.

My spine tingles and I clamp my legs together as my mouth rounds in an O.

Max starts, "s.h.i.+t, I'm so sorry, Lena. I-" When he spots my expression, he stills. "What's happening here?"

My eyes roll into the back of my head as pleasure gently pulses through me. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Please, shut up."

Eyes closed, I feel him step closer to me. "Are you-?"

Gritting my teeth, I hiss out, "Yes," as I reach down to cup myself. I breathe out, "Oh s.h.i.+t. No. This wasn't meant to happen."

Hands under my arms lift me onto my bed. As soon as my back hits the bed, a large, hard body covers me. He reaches down and lifts my skirt around my waist. In record time, he pulls my panties down my legs 'til I'm free. Roughly, he grips my legs and parts them, lying between them and placing the tip of his c.o.c.k at my bud of happiness. He rocks against me and sparks fly. "d.a.m.n. You're so wet. I got you, baby. Let go."

My breath hitches. I grip his waist so hard that my nails mark him. I wrap my legs around his thighs and grind against him, hard and uninhibited. Chest to come-covered chest, there is apparently no place for inhibitions in my bedroom right now. My soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressing against his broad chest does something to me. I whimper. Taking my lead, he watches me closely through hooded eyes, but thrusts against me faster and firmer. Every time his hot, hard length slides over me, my c.l.i.t sings.

It takes thirty seconds for him to take me there.

Thirty life-altering seconds.

My lower back p.r.i.c.kles as my core begins to pulse. Max lowers himself to take my mouth in a demanding kiss, and I moan into it. Reaching up, I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. His tongue dances with mine. Ecstasy pours through my body. Heart racing, I clamp my legs around him, tilt my head back, and cry out, "Oh G.o.d. Yes!" My body jerks uncontrollably, and fifteen seconds later, it's over.

Something wet on my lower stomach drips down my hip, onto my bed. Max pants at my cheek. It takes me a minute to get my s.h.i.+t together. I open my eyes to find Max looking down at me, eyes smiling. I can't help it. I cover my eyes with a hand and burst into laughter. "Well, that kinda sucked." I remove my hand to find him grinning down at me, dimple out for the world to see. Without thinking, I reach up and poke it gently. "I like this."

"I like you."

I trail my fingertip from his jaw, down to the slight dip in his chin. "You're just saying that because you came." I look down at the wetness on my stomach, and then back up at him. "Twice."

He just continues to grin. "I'm not even sorry."

"Not even a little?"

He pecks my lips and the light look in his eyes turns intense. "Not even a little." Flipping onto his back, his c.o.c.k still out, he pulls me into his side, bare-a.s.sed. "Wow. Dry humping. I don't think I've had that much fun since I was sixteen."

I cuddle into him, my nose wedged under his jaw, breathing in his woodsy scent. "It was ridiculous. Although I'm feeling pretty good right now. How about you?"

"Phenomenal." And I feel the vibrations through his chest.

"Then that's all that matters." My eyes start to feel heavy. "We should probably shower."

Sounding as sleepy as I am, he pulls me closer and utters drowsily, "Yeah. Shower. Sure."

And that's the last thing I hear before everything fades to black.

The sound of the front door closing wakes me. Blinking sleepily, I sit up to glance over at the clock. It reads ten past seven in the morning. Looking down at the empty s.p.a.ce next to me, my heart heavies. It looks like sleeping next to Max is too much for him. I should've known he isn't as into me as I am with him. It's the story of my life, really.

First, there was my first high school boyfriend, Jonathon. I was sixteen. He dated me for three weeks, stealing my first kiss then asking me if I thought my sister, Nat, was into him. When I told her about it, she showed him just how much she liked him. The next day at school, she told everyone he had a teenie weenie winkie. His new nickname from that day on was Midget Digit.

Then, there was Denver. Yes, his name was Denver. My mind chuckles, sighs, and then shakes its head. Just from his name, I should've known he was a douche nugget. We dated senior year for a whole eight months. I was just about to turn eighteen. He did all the right things, said all the right things, he was on the basketball team, and was tall.

I like tall guys, so sue me.

After six months of dating, and five months of being discreetly-or not so discreetly-pressured, I gave it up to him. He was my first. He told me I ruined it, because I cried. But the thing was, it hurt, and he did nothing to prepare me for that. I know we were young, but he knew better; he was just a selfish lover. I figured maybe he was just excited and forgot to warm me up...but with two more month of this, I went to talk to my sisters. Something just didn't feel right.

My sisters were appalled that I put up with this for a whole two months. They told me about the female o.r.g.a.s.m and about how real men treat a woman with care. Nina bought me my first vibrator. She told me to practice masturbating with and without it. She told me my hands are a major factor in s.e.x. This was weird, but I trusted my sisters more than anyone.

My first o.r.g.a.s.m happened with a vibrator, and it was so intense that it felt like I was being electrically shocked. h.e.l.l, it probably looked like I was being shocked. I also threw the vibrator mid-o.r.g.a.s.m against the wall. Hard.

When Nina and Nat asked me how it went, I blushed, showed them the now-broken vibrator, and had to listen as they cried from laughter. I covered my face to hide my smile. d.a.m.n them. Nat explained through her laughter, "You don't have to have it on high, Lena. There are different settings. Try somewhere in the middle next time. We'll get you another, Bazooka Jane."

The next night, I tried with just my hand. But it was completely frustrating. I didn't do it long before I stopped. I was rubbing myself raw. I definitely wasn't turned on. I didn't know what I was doing wrong. So I went to my sisters for guidance. The answer was simple, yet so effective.

Nina shrugged. "I usually just think about someone hot doing things to me." She turned to Nat. "What about you?"

Nat smirked. "Playgirl magazine. Under my mattress. Works every time." Nat offered to lend me her magazine, but I shuddered. The same hands she used to pleasure herself were used to handle that magazine. So my sisters put me to task. We went down to our local newsstand. They made me, an eighteen-year-old girl, go and ask Giuseppe, a vendor I have known all my d.a.m.n life, for the latest issue of Playgirl magazine.

Thankfully, the elderly vendor didn't even flinch. Although, Nat and Nina stood behind me snickering.

With a shaking hand, I held out the money. He took it with a smile before handing it to me. Just as I was walking away, he called out to me. We all turned to see him coming towards me with a brown paper bag. Slumping in relief, I hid my shameful wh.o.r.e magazine in the depths of that bag and thanked him again.

That night, I tried again, using my reinforcements. It happened. It took longer and it wasn't as intense, but it happened. And, boy, was I proud! I told my sisters and we high-fived after, of course, Nat asked me ten times if I had washed my hands. The a.s.shole.

That was when my sisters told me to start implicating what I had learned into the not-so-great s.e.x I was having with Denver. I wasn't sure about this. I knew Denver well enough to know he didn't like change, but I figured if I were the one making the change while he was able to continue doing his own thing, it wouldn't be an issue.

I was wrong.

It was the following Friday night when Denver and I were able to have some alone time. His parents were going to be at a neighbor's house for a barbecue, and these were normally adult-only events that ran late into the night. We'd have the entire night to ourselves.

Denver was a sweet guy. He could be oblivious, but he treated me well and showered me with affection. The only issue in our relations.h.i.+p was the s.e.x. We made it to his bed, undressed, and started fooling around. When he finally was inside of me, I hesitated, but decided to go for it. My hand slid down my breast to my belly, lower to where I needed it, and Denver stopped thrusting. "What are you doing?"

I whispered, "Keep going. It's okay; just keep going."

But he didn't keep going. "Where did you learn that?"

I tried to rea.s.sure him once more. "Please, honey. Keep going."

That's when I felt him deflate inside of me. My cheeks flushed. This was the opposite of what should have happened! Denver stayed quiet for a long time. I didn't know what to do. He was on top of me. I was being held down. Finally, he sat up, releasing me. I covered my bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. When he spoke again, fury lined his voice. "I asked you a question, Helena. Where did you learn that?"

I don't know why, but I lied. Panic makes you say and do stupid things. The lie sounded weak, even to me. "I-um...I read it somewhere in a magazine."

He wasn't buying it. Not that I was selling it well. He hissed, "You're cheating on me."

"What?" Then I was really panicked. "No! No, I'm not!"

He stood and paced in front of the bed, naked. "You're lying. You're cheating on me. How else would you know to do that? You'd never been with anyone before me. You're cheating on me." He paused mid-step then turned to me. "And you thought I wouldn't find out." By this point, I was crying my poor little heart out. He didn't care. He pointed at me, furious. "Get out of my bed. Take your clothes, and get out. We're over."

As a teenaged blubbering mess, I knelt on the bed and begged. "Don't say that. I'm not a cheater, I swear! I was just trying to make it good for me!"

And that's where I f.u.c.ked up. I took a teenaged boy's already bruised pride and rubbed salt into the wound by telling him he wasn't a good lover. He stilled, a look of shock crossing his face. A moment pa.s.sed. The look of shock morphed into one of pure derision. "f.u.c.king wh.o.r.e." He walked out of the room. I heard the front door open then close. The sound of his car starting made my heart skip a beat.

He'd left me there, naked and alone, crying my eyes out, with no way to get home.

I dressed as quickly as I could, went downstairs, and called Nina to come get me. Of course, she called Nat and told her I was a mess. Nat left the party she was at and came with Nina to pick me up. They took me to a movie theater. We watched a sappy romantic comedy. They tried to mend my broken heart with junk food and affection. They made me laugh when I wanted to cry, and when I did cry, they held me tight, whispering words of rea.s.surance. They told me Denver was just a boy, and when I met a real man, he would appreciate me for who I was, not what he wanted me to be. That he would never be ashamed of me.

There are many reason I love my sisters, but that memory is one I will always cherish.

I had hoped Max would be that man.

I guess I was wrong.

Chapter Twenty-Six.

Helena "Wake up, cupcake," is whispered into my ear. Groaning, I turn away from the voice and try to go back to sleep. My bed shakes as he chuckles quietly. "Come on, baby. Wake up. Seeing you in bed makes me want to play with you, but we don't have time. Wake up."

I turn back around and peek up at him. I mutter roughly, "You left." Max smiles down at me. I ask quietly, "Why did you leave?"

With gentle fingers, he moves hair off of my forehead and explains quietly, "Well, we got a little crazy last night. My pants were covered in come." He looks down at me pointedly. "My own come."

Oh. So he wasn't trying to sneak out. I can't help but laugh. "Ah. I see."

As I hug my pillow tight, he runs a hand over my shoulder and down my arm. "Yeah, I needed clothes and I was awake, so I went home to shower and change." He jerks his head to the door. I turn to see a black duffle bag by my closet. He adds, "I brought spares."

He brought spares.

He brought spares? Next thing you know, he'll have his own toothbrush here!

Holy h.e.l.l, this is moving too fast.

He stands and walks over to the bathroom. "Bought a toothbrush on the way."

My eyes snap open. Panic fills me. Okay. I'm officially freaking out here. Sitting up in my bed, I ask, "Really? You think you'll need one? I mean, do you think you'll be staying here a lot?"

Not at all sensing my alarm, he calls back from the bathroom, "Uh, yeah, I think so. I mean, you'll be coming to the club every Sat.u.r.day. We'll go home together, sleep here, and then we'll go get Ceecee and do breakfast on Sundays." He walks back into the room and sits next to me on the bed. "Oh, and my mom wants you to come to dinner tomorrow night."