Best Friends With Benefits (Most Likely To) (6 page)

Chapter Six

Alec was not a sportsman, and even after brushing his teeth and a shower, he could still sense Valerie all over him. Having her near him now was not helping his game. She was attached to him, literally—by rope at the ankles and the edge of his torso by his arm as they ran toward the next obstacle. His goal was supposed to be hitting that far-off cone, but as her curves banked tight against him, his only aim was getting through this fucking maze so he could touch her again, taste her again.

Reece seemed to be using anything she could think of to keep them busy, like they were children who would misbehave if they weren’t given something to occupy them at every moment—idle hands, and all that.

Maybe she was right. Look where the activity his classmates had come up with last night had brought him. To Valerie riding his mouth like it was a mechanical bull, her legs spread wide while she filled him with her musky juice, while she begged for it. Fuck, if they were alone right now…

But they weren’t. The whole group of his classmates littered the lawn behind the hotel in potato sacks, or attached like he and Valerie were, or preparing for a tug-of-war. All of them seemed, at least for the moment, even younger than they had in high school.

There had been the initial rush of attention when he arrived that morning, hugs and back slaps and selfies. People who didn’t even know he existed in high school fawning about how much they loved his music. He was used to the swarms; they happened a lot. And he’d expected this one.

What he hadn’t expected was Val standing next to him giving the people who gave him crap in high school—for wearing the same clothes he wore the day before, or being wrapped in a jacket on the hottest of days—crap right back.

“Amazing how fame makes a person worth your time,” she said to a group of giggling women who’d been on the cheerleading squad as they each took their turn giving him a too-long hug. “At least he has a name tag on so you don’t have to ask,” she added when the crowd kept squeezing without pause.

They might have been able to brush off Valerie’s outburst, but he heard her loud and clear. Her words weren’t jealous, they were protective. She was his best friend and these women were fake bitches and she wanted them to know it.

“What’s with Val?” one of them had asked.

“She’s my bodyguard,” was all he could think to reply.

He’d always wanted to be the one who shielded her, but she was so much stronger than he was. He supposed that came from not having a father who’d convinced you that you were shit every day of your life. Alec could remember wishing his father had been an alcoholic so he could blame the way he’d treated him on something. As it was, Alec only had himself to blame.

“You didn’t have to say that,” he said when the cheerleaders had left.

“I might not have had the courage to in high school, but there is no way I’m letting that shit go now.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“What? You shouldn’t, either.”

He knew she was right, but the part of him that was still that same scared boy wanted the attention of those women. Even if they didn’t deserve it, he needed to know that he did. It was the only thing that kept him going most days, kept the echoes of his father’s words quiet.
Look how many people love me. Look how many people think I am special.

He wondered how much longer he would carry that little boy around. At twenty-nine he was getting exceptionally heavy.

Valerie’s arm pinched at his side, reminding him they were currently participating in the damn obstacle course. He couldn’t believe he’d agreed. He was not a rule follower. But he needed distraction. He actually needed Reece’s stupid activities.

If he and Valerie had stayed in the room, they would have fucked. The one time she’d mandated finished and over hour one. If sex between them was only happening once, he wanted to savor it. Build the need he already felt. Crave the taste of her a little longer.

He tried to concentrate on the race, but all he could think of as the rope burned the skin of his ankle was tightening that same rope around Valerie’s wrists, pulling her taut to that headboard, so he could use his tongue to make her even crazier than he had that morning. Or maybe if she really was the dirty girl he thought she was, she’d tie him up.

Her brown hair was up in a ponytail, a bright pink tank top and black shorts over her adorable little ass. A white bra strap slanted over one shoulder like a finger, beckoning.

He’d given a lot of women orgasms over the years, but he’d never quite delighted in it as much as he had with Valerie. He wanted her to feel good because she was his friend, and because her body demanded to be worshipped. Not just the outside of her, either. Not just her skin like hot white sugar, her tits perky and the perfect handful, her smooth stomach, and her pussy. There was something inside her, too, that he’d never realized until he’d started to release it—a flame on low that his attention had turned to a raging blaze—that kept him close and humming like a moth now.

He needed to stop, to remember where they were. What they were doing. His pants were way too tight. If the boner that threatened to rip got to full mast, his entire high school graduating class would see it.

“Hurry up,” Val directed, waking him from his fantasy. “Faster,” she insisted, sparking a new one.
Faster
falling from her lips as his cock entered her again and again and again. He had an idea of how it would feel. His tongue and fingers remembering she was tight, wet, and as quick to respond as a servant… Stop—he had to make himself stop.

“I’m going as fast as I can.” He wobbled along with her. “You seriously care about winning this thing?”

“If I play,” she huffed, “I win.”

Typical Val; he always admired her confident spirit and belief that she deserved to win. He’d never thought that about himself, even with all he had accomplished.

Why was he still carrying that little boy? He was a famous rock star, for fuck’s sake. His father didn’t have the power to tamp out his destiny any more. But, being with all these people, being in this town, was bringing the tyrannical thumb of his father right back, choking his larynx. The first time his father hit him was the last time Alec believed that love didn’t come with consequences. That being hurt was the rule, not the exception.

“Alec,” Valerie demanded, pulling at his ankle with her own, “wake up.”

“It’s just a dumb ribbon. I can buy you one.”

“For what?”

He had some ideas. Maybe
Best Woman I Ever Tasted
. “Whatever, whatever you want to win for. I’ll buy you a room of them if we can run a little slower.”

“Awww,” she played, not letting up on her pace, “is Al out of shape, too many late nights partying?”

“I’m not out of shape,” he said, moving faster, “this is just stupid.” He’d show her how fucking in shape he was when he finally made her come around his cock.

“Then why did you ask to be my partner?”

He didn’t answer, even though it was completely clear to him. He might have been avoiding going back to the room, but he also knew to keep his sanity he had to prove he could be near her without losing his fucking mind. He was trying to get himself to remember
this
was them. Not what had happened in the room, even though he couldn’t stop thinking about going back there.

They finally reached the next cone, removed the rope, and moved on to the next obstacle—crawling through a set of tubes made out of tent material.

He glanced down at his pants. “I am not dressed for this.” Like everything he owned, his outfit was tight, black, and studded. Clothes made for playing guitar, not playing catch.

“Who packed for you, Marilyn Manson?”

“My stylist,” he admitted. He let him do everything when it came to clothes. Alec was too lazy, too busy to care what he wore.

She rolled her eyes. “Even worse.”

He pulled on the legs of his jeans. “I really can’t bend down in these.”

She shrugged dismissively. “Then take them off.” It was a joke Val would have made hundreds of times before this weekend, but now it froze them. Her cheeks bloomed, her lips pressed together.

He moved closer to her, unable to fight it anymore. “I only do that for dirty girls,” he whispered. “You know any?”

“We have four more obstacles left,” she breathed. Her eyes became all pupils, and he knew he had her.

“You must want that ribbon real bad.” He slid his finger along her bra strap. Her skin was damp with sweat, her heavy breaths going uneven as he continued to play with the satiny fabric. “More than you want anything.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

They were locked in place, the world still moving around them.

“What trumps the ribbon?” He forced himself to let go of her bra strap so he didn’t rip it off of her.

“I think you saw that this morning.”

His abdomen gnashed and roared. Oh, fuck had he ever.

“Besides,” she continued, “if we’re only going to be together once, I figure we shouldn’t rush that.”

“Definitely not.” It was the same thought he’d had, but that thought was falling fast.

A line was forming behind them. People were waiting to get into the next obstacle instead of cutting in front of them. They were watching. He was famous now, and even though they couldn’t hear their conversation, they wanted to see what was going to happen.

He did, too.

“But,” she finally said, “it’s not like we have to wait or anything. That’s not a rule.”

He waved his arm at the gathering crowd. “Go around,” he said, grabbing Val at the waist and guiding her out of the way. “We both have cramps,” he declared, thinking fast.

“I always knew you two were on the same cycle,” Brandon White, ex–high school quarterback, current NFL one, panted, pushing past them. His partner was another ex–football player who didn’t play for an NFL team, and his flabby body showed it.

You’d think the astronomical probability that two famous people had come from the same graduating class would link them somehow, but clearly Brandon wasn’t into commiserating on their lottery-level odds. Alec didn’t even bother to respond. At least he had a hot woman as his partner.

At least he had a hot woman he was about to fuck.

“We would have beaten you if we didn’t stop,” Val yelled to the bottom of Brandon’s shoes as he slugged through the obstacle. “Once a douchebag, always a douchebag.” She shook her head.

“People don’t change.”

“You have.”

Outside, there was no doubt he had, but inside he wasn’t any different. He was still the guy who chose avoidance over pain. But she wasn’t asking for what was inside him, she wanted his body, and that he could give her.

Her lips trembled, waiting for his response. He wanted to kiss her, but that was a rule. There were also people around, and that was another. He was surprised he was keeping them all straight because thinking of Val like this, seeing her like this, was making everything hazy, in a good way.

The foghorn whistle announced the end of the race. The winners jumped up and down, hooted and slapped five.

“Guess I’m buying you that room full of ribbons.”

She staked her hand on top of his. “I don’t want anything I don’t work for.”

All their words were innuendo now; all their movements were foreplay. He was going to make her work. That was for sure.

“You’re okay with not staying for lunch?” As much as he wanted her, he wanted to be wanted by her even more.

“If you’re hungry, we could get room service again,” she suggested, one eyebrow up.

“I’m not hungry.”

She ran a finger along the length of his cheek, innocent enough, but with everything that was between them she might as well have been stroking his cock with warm lube. “I am.”

He moved her hand to his belt buckle. “Let’s get you fed.”

Chapter Seven

Once the elevator doors closed and they were finally alone, he couldn’t wait anymore. He circled his arms around her waist and pressed his chest into the soft contours of her tits. He drove his cock against her leg feverishly, losing himself in the ache.

His lips were desperate to go for hers. His need for them was almost stronger than the need pulsing through his cock, but he kissed her jaw instead. Lay hot, furious kisses all along the angle of her chin and into the soft skin at the tip of her neck.

He cornered her against the wall. He couldn’t move his hands fast enough, his lips fast enough, his cock threatened to rip through his five-hundred-dollar jeans, but everything became this moment. Their two bodies searching desperately for any contact, any release—each other.

“Reece is going to kill us.” Val laughed.

“Fuck Reece.” Alec slid his tongue along her neck and urged his cock in to her with more force. “Feel how hard I am for you. What I’m going to fuck you with when we get back to our room.” He tilted his head back so he could see her big brown eyes. Craving the moment when his next words hit her, made her clit throb and her abdomen ache. “The only thing I’m thinking about is your tiny black shorts and lacy panties down around your ankles, your pink pussy stretching around me as I take you deep.”

Her gaze darkened with desire.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Dirty Girl?”

Her answer came in the form of her hands slipping down from around his neck to the curve of his shoulders, to the sensitive bones at the base of his spine. Her demand came when she snaked them around to his stomach. Her fingers tormented the muscles of his abdomen. She toyed with his belt buckle as she drove her pubic bone into his cock.

“If you don’t stop teasing me, I’m going to fuck you right here.”

She laughed, sticking a finger under his shirt and feathering it along the hair that led into his pants. “I’m pretty sure you want this to last longer than the two minutes it takes to get up to the fifth floor, don’t you?” Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks.

He certainly did, but he also wasn’t going to waste a minute of the one time he could fuck her, either. And if she was in the mood to tease, he was going to tease.

He upped the ante, slipping a hand down her shorts, beneath her panties, slicking his finger against her silky skin. Fuck, he wanted her now. But he also wanted to see her, all of her, lying naked and waiting for him, spread open on that beautiful white bed.

He found her clit and twirled his fingertip around it. “I’m going to make sure your pussy is all juicy and swollen for me.” He stuck a finger inside her.

She squealed that same squeal of fear, delight, and need he recalled from the closet. That sound was the sound he was chasing. He thrust his finger into her again and she pressed her lips against his shoulder, muffling her cry.

“You like that, Dirty Girl?”

She moaned into his shoulder, her strangled breath the only answer he needed to hear.

“You are so tight.” He continued to slide his finger in and out. “My cock is wailing to be inside you.”

The doors opened with a
ding
as if luck were answering his prayers.

He stepped back so she could gather herself, while he tried to put himself together, too. He would keep this a secret. He would obey her every rule.

But God, did he want to carry her to their room with her legs wrapped around his waist, kissing her until both of them became so lost that only the touch of the other would help them to be found again.

“Oh no,” Valerie groaned as they stepped out of the elevator.

He noticed the cause of her distress. The housekeeping cart was parked in front of their room, a vacuum blaring inside.

Fuck.

“We forgot the necktie.” She attempted to smile. She took a deep breath even though he could sense her whole body shaking at the speed of a rabbit’s heart.

No. Nothing was getting in the way of fucking her, this minute.
Soon
was not good enough.
Now
was the only choice.

“Ice and vending?” he asked, indicating the sign on the wall.

“Are you serious?”

He pressed his lips to her ear. “I know you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you since last night. Do you really want to wait any longer?”

It came out bolder than he’d intended, but it was better than his real thought.
I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you since last night, and I am not waiting one more second.

She paused and looked from their room to him and back again. Maybe he’d gone too far.

“I can’t wait any longer,” she admitted, her eyes sheepish.

Had he ever heard sweeter words? He dragged her down the hall in the direction of the arrow on the vending sign, anticipation making him lightheaded.

They arrived at a fluorescent-lighted alcove. An ice machine and a Coke machine stood rumbling on either side of them.

It wasn’t ideal. But there was a door they could close. They had enough room if they stood. “What do you think?”

She considered their surroundings. He should have just slammed the door and started up with her again. He was trying to be polite, and his question was going to make her bail.

“I’m more of a Pepsi girl”—she smiled slyly—“but what the hell?”

Surprise filled him, but was quickly extinguished by yearning as he closed the door and set his sights on her. “I’m going to make you a Coke girl.”

She glanced at the closed door.

He pressed the back of his body against it. “No one is getting in here.” He would keep that promise, but his position made it so she would have to come to him. “Get over here so I can ride that first rule out of you, Dirty Girl.”

Instead of complying, she pushed the button on the ice machine and took a few cubes into her hands. “Remember when we would slip these down each other’s shirts?”

She made her way over and he pulled her in. “It’s not a memory anymore.” He took a cube from her hand and shoved it down the front of her shirt.

She shrieked and jumped back. “You are not getting away with that.” She slipped the rest of the ice under his shirt, and he yelped.

He attempted to steady his breathing as she slid the ice along the muscles of his stomach. Ice-cold water dripped into his waistband, steaming his hot skin.

“You are asking for it.” He popped a piece of ice in his mouth and slicked it against her neck and shoulders. Her body shuddered beneath the force of his cold tongue. He spit what was left across the room and used his teeth to pull the straps of her tank top and bra down.

“You might be able to do more with your lips than even I can,” she breathed.

He ran his ice-cube-cold mouth over her already hard nipples. “You have no idea.”

She arched, pressing her tits farther into his mouth as the rest of the ice cubes dropped to the floor at their feet. He continued to lick and suck at her, only taking a break to allow her to pull his shirt over his head. Before he could continue, though, she undid his belt, unzipped his fly.

Fuck,
if he’d wanted her before, the fury with which she wanted him made his erection pulse. He moaned as her cold hands flitted over his abdomen and the
V
of his revealed boxers.

“You like that?” she asked, imitating his talk, and he was glad, because
fuck yeah I do
.

“Oh yeah, I like that a lot. How about you stroke my cock with one of those ice cubes?”

She paused.

“We get to tell each other what we want, remember?”

She nodded, went to the machine for a refill, and put her hand down his pants. The cold of the ice cubes against the blistering skin of his cock and her squeeze and tug at just the right pressure was taking him to the edge.

“Damn, have you done this before?”

“This, yes,” she replied, hot in his ear. “Against a vending machine? No.”

“Well.” He reached for the button on her shorts. “I think it’s time to tick something off your bucket list.”

She pulled his pants down before he could get to her shorts. His cock bobbed, grateful to be free of his jeans. He was so hard it poked through the hole in his boxers.

She appraised his girth. Her eyes on him were almost as hot as her hands had been. They widened then glinted in focus.

She licked her lips. “I have something else I want to tick off first.”

Oh fuck, he was pretty sure he knew where this was going. She kneeled in front of him, and he braced himself against the door.

She was lip level to his cock. It throbbed for the relief of her mouth slicking against it.

“Sucking me off was on your bucket list?” he managed.

“It’s a recent addition.”

She pulled his boxers down, slipped an ice cube into her mouth, and took him in, her lips hot and her mouth cold against his cock. She pulled back, sweeping her pink tongue along the tip, his rigid shaft still wet with her saliva.

“You know what they say about flute players, don’t you?” she asked, taking the base of him into her hand.

He wanted to respond but he couldn’t. His eyes were open but everything was black. Her breath against him, her lips that tight and firm and close were too much. He’d thought he was in charge of this, but fuck had he been wrong.

She owned him right now.

She took him into her mouth again, the cold making his legs shake and strain. She worked him slowly at first then took him deeper, so deep his head hit the back of her throat.

Whoever said that about flute players was right. Her mouth was a master at any instrument it played. If he didn’t take the power back, he was going to melt into a puddle on the floor with all that ice.

He anchored his hand on her ponytail to steady himself. Her expert lips slicked him faster, bobbing up and down the length of him. He was within minutes of coming, spraying hot against the back of her throat. While he wanted to, wanted her to suck him off and swallow everything he gave her, he wanted to come inside her more. He wanted to see that pussy. He wanted to fuck her now.

He drew her off of him. Her eyes glanced up, confused, her lips deliciously swollen.

“Dirty Girl, I want so badly to fuck your perfect flute-player mouth, but more than that I want to fuck your sweet, ripe pussy.”

“I know, but—”

“Your mouth should be illegal,” he interrupted. “I can only imagine what your pussy will be like.”

She cocked her head, letting the words hit her.

“Show it to me,” he urged. “Show me everything.”

She rose and removed her shirt and bra from where they were hitched around her stomach. She didn’t pause as she unbuttoned her shorts, following his every demand.

“Slower,” he said, giving her another one.

She took her shorts down and kicked them off to the side, waiting in her white lace underwear for his next command. Fuck, she was gorgeous. His eyes followed every line, dipped into every curve, longed to see the still hidden parts of her. The pussy he’d waited to see in full view until he fucked her was about to be unveiled to him—only to him.

“Say something.” Her voice brought him back from the trip her body was taking him on.

Could he tell her what he thought of her? No, because he felt those words in his chest. He needed to keep this to what he felt in his pants.

“I’m just picturing what your wet panties are going to look like balled up on the floor next to us when I sink my cock into you.”

She seemed relieved, and he knew his instincts were right. She’d asked him to treat her like a woman he fucked. He needed to remember that.

He flicked his chin at her. “Let’s find out.”

She slipped them off and waited. She was perfectly manicured, a whisper of fine brown hair in a tiny
V
on her pubic bone. Her hips were curved and ivory white like angel wings opening to him. She moved to cover herself.

“No.” He motioned for her to drop her hands. “I need to see you.”

Her whole body seemed to blush.

“Fuck, Dirty Girl,” he murmured, words the only thing securing him to that space. He was spinning, dizzy from just looking at her.

She stood in front of him with her arms at her sides, like she was unsure what to do next. Oh, he would tell her. He was searching his mind for the words, when something else dropped in.

“Crap,” he said. “My condoms are in the room.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
They were here, naked, beyond turned on, and he couldn’t do shit about it.

“Not a problem,” Valerie said with a smile. She bent down for her shorts and pulled a shiny wrapper from the pocket.

He clicked his tongue, a wave of warmth coming on so strong it almost knocked him over. “You really are a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering, she passed the condom over.

He ripped it open, slipped it on, and reached for her. “You have no idea what is coming your way,” he growled, pressing his naked body to hers. His tongue licked along the edges of her lips as he entered her, going just as far as her rules would take him.

Her breath caught, and he sank deeper, trying to keep his own breath in check. Being inside her was demolishing him. He rocked against her slowly at first, enjoying the pull as she took him deeper and deeper.

He squeezed her ass. “Wrap your legs around me,” he said as he hitched her up. She obliged and held him between her thighs in a perfect parallel to his thrusts.

Her arms were draped over his neck, her legs were around his waist, and her pussy was holding him, too. Each thrust she accepted seemed to clutch him tighter, bringing his desire to a boiling point. He wanted to kiss her so badly, needed to know what her swollen lips tasted like. He wasn’t sure if it was because it was forbidden, or after seeing her work on his cock, he knew her kiss would be legendary. Or was it something even scarier? Even though he couldn’t tell her how beautiful she was, how sexy, how rare, he wanted her to feel it. He bit her shoulder, fighting the urge to take her away in a kiss she would never be able to say no to.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so good,” he said, going even deeper into the depths of her. “It’s just as tight and luscious as I knew it would be.”