Never Say Yes To Your Best Friend (I said Yes)

13. Mont

Chapter thirteen

Mont

M y head is buzzing. I don’t want to hurt Evilla. I also don’t want to hurt me. And I don’t just mean physically.

“What if I didn’t leave?” I look at her, my hand frozen on her thigh. Her eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them. They’re normally tropical green with the sun on the water with white sand below, but right now, they’re like going deeper, like finding an underwater cave and diving in, where it’s so much earthier, where all the jewel tones hide.

“What if you didn’t leave?” she echoes.

“What if I left pudding but didn’t leave the city?”

“What if you stayed in both?”

“What if I left next year? Have you ever wanted to see the world?”

“I don’t know if I could take leave. The owner of the company might be a stickler for people staying in their jobs and making pudding magic happen. He just took over the company, and I heard he can be a bit of a workaholic. This is a new investment for him. He’ll want it to pay off.”

“And what if the said owner approved your leave?”

“I don’t know.” She gives a slow, hooded blink. “A year is a long time. I’d have to think about it. I’d have to…we’d have to grow into thinking about it. Is that what you mean? Are you asking me if I’d like to go on another date with you? Not as friends and not as a farewell?”

It’s nearly impossible to swallow with hope and nerves clogging up my throat. “And if that was what I meant?”

She gives me a frank look. “I know we didn’t plan on coming here tonight, but I didn’t think this was a one-night stand. Is it a one-night stand?”

“No. I…do you want it to be?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want it to be. I didn’t have a feeling that it was, or I wouldn’t have asked you to bring me up those stairs. I wouldn’t have met your bear or your sheep’s butt. I wouldn’t have asked you to touch my pussy.”

Touch my pussy. Lord, dirty talk gets to me, and I’m already harder than a lead pipe in my jeans. “I’m terrible at this, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know. You haven’t touched it yet.” She smirks at me, and god, that sassy mouth of hers. “I know what you mean, Mont. It’s alright to be bad at talking about relationships. Thanks for making the effort before we do this. I’m no good at talking about it either, but it does mean a lot that you don’t want to just fuck and then boot me out the door.”

“I don’t want to just fuck, period.”

Her cheeks finally get a little bit pink when she says, “I don’t think just fucking is very good.”

She doesn’t think I’m some kind of weirdo for suggesting it because I’m a guy. Guys can want something more than just what’s going to happen in the next instant with their dick. They can think past that. I would say, corny as it is, they can think with their hearts too, and with their brains, and they can want something connected.

“If that’s decided, do you want this slow and luxurious or hot and heavy?”

She grasps my hand and drags it to her panties. “Can it be a mix of both?”

“I’ll try my best.”

“If I get bored, I can always focus on the sheep’s butt. That’s pretty entertaining.”

“Bored?” I huff. “Oh, you will not get bored.”

“If you say so.” She’s all bravado, but when I stroke my fingers down the soaked fabric of her panties, I see her smooth, flat belly quiver and watch the tremble echo in her thighs.

Before this, I’d never had the urge to come from just watching someone tremble, but oh my crab cakes, this woman. She does it for me.

I want her panties off, but I settle for running my finger over her seam again, up to her clit, and then back. She gasps and arches her hips. Yeah, I can’t mess around like this anymore. These panties have to go.

They’re the boy short black cotton kind. They’re tighter fitting, but they peel away easily.

Let’s see how bored she might be while I’m eating her pussy until she’s flying off the bed.

I start slowly, with my hand tracing her heat. She arches into my touch and moans as she opens and spreads her legs around me. “More, Bergamont,” she commands fearlessly and bossily.

She might not have been the right woman that night, but she’s the right woman now. I’ve never met anyone so strong and fearless. I thought I could leave and go on this journey of self-discovery. And I still need to. But maybe leaving doesn’t have to happen right away. It can happen right here at home since it’s probably the best place to start.

I want to figure out who I am and what my life would look like if I took some time off and immersed myself in a different reality, but I also want to know what life would look like with her. What that life might look like together and if it could work.

“You know you’re the only one who uses my full name?”

“That’s sweet. I’m the only one you’ll let use your full name, you mean.”

“Well, besides my grandmother. Fuck, I shouldn’t be mentioning my grandma right now,” I growl, squeezing my eyes shut.

“It’s already forgotten. Put your fingers inside me, Bergamont. Please.”

I stroke down her center and find her entrance. She’s hot and wet. “How many?”

“Until I can’t take anymore.”

It’s so hot that she can give commands. I should have figured she’d be fearless in bed.

I give her one finger, pushing inside just a little. “Here?”

“Yeah…no.” Her eyes aren’t open, and her face looks like she’s fighting back the bliss. “More.”

“How many more?”

“Are you even inside yet?”

I chuckle, even though it makes my balls jiggle, which is incredibly painful at the moment, seeing as they feel extremely swollen. “I’d take that as an insult if this wasn’t my finger.”

“Are you?”

I add another and push both fingers inside. She’s so tight. I want her clenched around my dick, not around my fingers, but control is a great thing, and I’m going to have it.

“Oh my god.” Her head digs into the pillow, and her hips buck into my hand. She starts panting. “Is that all you’ve got?”

I don’t give her another finger, but I do start up a slow rhythm that causes my knuckles to brush against her clit every so often. She can’t pretend she’s not wild with it. Her hips pump with my hand, and she tries to reach down and circle her own clit, which is hot, but I can do better.

I can taste her. I give her my mouth, and her panting turns into full-on gulping for air. She rocks against my hand and face, and her hands push up behind her and against the carved headboard between the massive, ornate posts. She doesn’t grab it. She just pushes on it while she pushes against me.

She rides my face and hand, going wild while I watch her, transfixed. She’s so beautiful. So strong. This woman just got her nipple fucking stung by a hornet, though it doesn’t look that bad. Now that she’s iced it, it’s pretty much the same size as the other one. It’s just maybe a little redder, considering the other one is a dark raspberry pink. She doesn’t appear to be in any pain from the sting as her chest rises and falls and as her hips jerk and ride and pump against my face.

I watch her because I can’t look away. I look up at her body, at the dress pooled in the middle of her body, at the valley of her chest, at her neck straining, and at her head bent back.

I change the rhythm, licking her center, licking and kissing her where I’m filling her.

“Oh my—yes. Please. Oh god,” she moans.

I want to take my fingers away and fill her with my tongue, but as soon as I press on her clit again, her walls clench around me, and I know she’s coming. Her body stiffens, and then it’s like she’s fighting me instead of riding it out, but she’s not fighting to get away. She’s fighting to get closer. It’s a little bit violent, and it surprises the hell out of me, but it’s also hot. It’s just as hot when she makes the smallest sound right when her muscles start to shake and when she pushes even harder off the headboard and into me.

She pushes so hard that the headboard knocks against the wall. I thought the bed was so sturdy that if the ceiling of this brick building caved in, it wouldn’t have moved the bed an inch, but this petite woman just did the impossible.

She does it, though, doesn’t she, the impossible, and with the utmost ease.

“Don’t stop,” she pants and begs, pressing the headboard into the wall again. “Fuck—Mont— harder. ”

I don’t know what makes me look up since there’s no noise or warning. Maybe I just want to watch her face as she’s climaxing, or I’m still amazed she could move the headboard. Or maybe it’s just fate that I’m here to save her because I think that, in a way, she might have saved me when I didn’t even know I needed it.

Whatever it is, the universe is on my side.

At the exact second, it happens, and I watch the mount of the sheep’s butt tear out of the wall above the bed. I also thought nothing short of a blast could move the beast, but it’s definitely moving now.

“Holy Christ.” I snatch Evilla’s hand and yank her toward me. I catch her in my arms, spin her around, and cover her with my body just as the mount comes crashing down on the bed. It hits the headboard and bounces forward, straight onto the bed. It sways for a moment, then falls face down, sheep’s ass cheeks first.

Evilla shrieks and clutches at my shoulders. She presses her body tightly against mine, her hands clawing at my shoulders. I think she’s terrified, but then I realize she’s trying to yank me out of the way. I’m far enough back, but I’m the one who would have taken the impact if I wasn’t.

We both look at each other. Her eyes are blown out and heavy-lidded, and her whole face is flushed. It makes her freckles appear more than just a light dotting over her nose. There are a few on her forehead and chin that I never even noticed. She looks at me, hazy and off-balance, and I stare back at her. I don’t know who starts laughing first.

“Holy shit,” she mutters, giggling between the words. “Between the hornet stings and the almost murder by the sheep’s butt, I’m not sure the universe wants us to be doing this.”

“The hornet sting brought us here. The sheep’s butt just wanted us to change position.”

“That’s quite a sign,” she says with a sigh.

“The headboard knocking against the wall likely dislodged it. I must not have put it back up correctly when I remounted it after the renovations. Or the anchors just finally gave way, and that little bit of movement on the wall was the last straw.”

“I’m glad you saved me from being decapitated by a sheep’s rear. That would have been an embarrassing way to go.”

A bit of plaster falls out between the two bricks and drops to the bed. It hits the mount and stays there, crumbled up and dusty. We both look at it and then back at each other before we both burst out laughing again.

“Doesn’t everyone say that death during sex is the sweetest kind of death?” Evilla tugs her dress down and pulls her top up.

Yeah, my thoughts exactly. What a mood killer.

But also, my lord, what a statement.

No one could accuse her of ever being predictable. “Oh this?” She reads my thoughts and motions to her dress. “I just thought there’d be cleanup involved now that the sheep’s arse is down for the count, and there’s a huge gaping hole in the wall. Then, after, we’d get back to…you know.”

“Or we could save it for next time,” I offer.

“Nonsense! You’re probably horny as all hell!”

That’s bang on. Maybe it’s a little too bang-on since we’re not going to be banging on. I don’t want to get shy, but it happens anyway. When I get shy, I get awkward. I don’t know what to do with my hands, my arms, and this giant, raging hard-on. At least that is contained in my jeans. My arms and hands are just hanging here now, even though I want them wrapped around Evilla. That seems like a good use for them, even if I’m just holding her. I didn’t know doing that one simple thing with someone could be so special.

Heart to heart. I get that now.

“I’ll be fine,” I assure her.

“Are you going to drop me off and come home immediately and rub one out? If that’s the case, then I’m more than happy to—”

“I think it might be more meaningful if we wait until we have a first date. I loved watching you come, Evilla. I absolutely love that I made you come. I really enjoyed sharing that with you. If you’re okay with waiting a few more days, then I’d like to take you out on a date that isn’t engineered by one of our parents. A date with the real you being you. No doubles, no goodbyes. I hope no hornets or murderous sheep’s butts or scary bears. Just me and you being me and you, having a good time. Something simple and no pressure as to when we get back to…this.”

Evilla knows when to use sass, and she knows when to be kind. She doesn’t even hesitate to grace me with a soft, genuine smile of understanding as she adjusts the straps of her dress properly and zips it up.

“How about some popcorn and a show to end the night? Or music? I love just sitting and doing nothing while listening to music.”

“What kind?” I ask.

“Here’s something you don’t know about me yet. All our pudding flavors at work? I’ve tried every flavor. Every single one. All the ones that were before my time and obviously all the ones during. I like all of them. I’m not fussy when it comes to pudding. I’m kind of like that with music, too.”

“Popcorn and music it is.”

Her eyes linger over the sheep before they return to me. “Are you going to fix that?”

“Not now. When I put it back up, I’m going to make sure it never ever comes back down.”

“That sounds rather ominous.”

“Not when I sleep under it every night and don’t want my head sheered off.”

“That’s a good point. I like your head attached to your body.” She grins.

“I’m not sure you would have said that after our first date.”

Her eyes get super smoky on top of the existing smoke that hasn’t left. Evilla looks twice as lovely after a climax, and it makes me want to give another one and another, but I also want the timing to be right. “We haven’t had our first date yet.”

“That’s right.”

She gets up off the bed and nudges me gently on the shoulder, letting her hand linger for a few seconds too long. “I’m really looking forward to whatever you come up with. Also, can we raid the fridge for the crab snacks? I’m starving.”

“Crab and popcorn. Sounds like a great combo.”

“We should make it into our next pudding.”

That gets me going. The more I laugh, the better I feel. Everyone would say that when you’re single, this is what you’re missing in your life—the connection with another person. When I thought about that, I thought about the inevitable path of babies and marriage. I didn’t ever stop to think it might be special moments like this where it’s just silliness and laughter.

Those memories also last a lifetime.

“No. No, we shouldn’t.”

A special look passes between us. I have no part in the giving. I’m just the observer. I don’t know what it is, but I want to see it on Evilla’s face again. “Right.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper. “Crab and popcorn are just for us.”