Love You Better (Better Love 1)

“It’s a couch for gnomes. Pixies. Itty bitty children. It is a couch for ants!” Jesse counters, laughing at himself. “How do you expect a man to sleep comfortably if he can’t even fit on the cushions?”

“Zip it, Zoolander and get in your Uber already,” Bailey yells around the corner, and Jesse guffaws and blows her a kiss.

“You comin’ with?” he turns to Kelley who then looks to me. Kelley raises an eyebrow at me in silent question.

“He’s gonna stay, J,” I answer for him, then Jesse and Bailey both make awwww and oooohhhh noises in jest, which makes me blush. Basically, our friends are jerks. But I love them.

They’ve been extremely accepting of this new dynamic. In Bailey’s words, “it’s pretty much the same, except now you touch more and kiss, and you know what his dick looks like.”

I didn’t bother telling her that I actually don’t know what his penis looks like, but I’m hoping to remedy that tonight. I’ve been waiting for this night all week. All my fun bits tingle just thinking about it.

When Jesse walks out the door, Bailey yawns dramatically and loudly announces that she is going to her bedroom to listen to music with her headphones in. I ignore her smirk and take Kelley

’s hand, leading him to my room.

He closes the door behind him, and for a moment, we just stare at one another. His eyes lick over every inch of me, and I fist my hands at my sides, trying to harness the intense excitement ripping through my body and warming my blood.

How much of this connection is pure attraction, and how much of it is more?

Do I want to know?

No. Not right now. I’ll think about it later.

“Kelley,” I rasp quietly.

His eyes are smoldering, his lips smirking, his hair sexily mussed, and dang it, I’m so turned on. He hasn’t even touched me yet, and I’m already aching for him.

I’ve never, ever wanted a man like I want Kelley.

I’ve never craved anyone as fiercely as I am craving my best friend right now.

“Ivy,” he growls in response.

His voice is gravel. Pure sex that tightens my nipples and heats me up all over. The fragile leash I had on my control snaps, and I launch myself at him.

He grunts, gripping my hips and lifting me up, capturing my lips with his. I wrap my legs around his waist and moan into his mouth when he moves his hands to my butt and squeezes. I run my fingers through his luscious auburn hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan. His tongue strokes over mine, hot and wet and soft, and I want to devour him. I want to taste every part of him, savor him, and then swallow him whole.

Thank you, Goddess of Sex, for making my best friend an erotic masterpiece come to life.

My nipples are hard, and I rub my breasts across his solid chest to create friction, but it’s not enough. There’s too much fabric in the way. I reach for the hem of my t-shirt, breaking our kiss only long enough to pull my shirt over my head and toss it. When I attempt to bring my mouth back to his, he pulls away, and I whimper.

“Hold on, baby,” Kelley pants. “Let me look at you.”

I watch his pupils engulf his hazel irises as his eyes eat up the view of my chest. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he grinds out, and then he places open mouth kisses to the swell of my breasts. Sucking and nipping, marking me up.

He hoists me up farther and closes his mouth around my nipple, sucking it through the thin, silk material of my bra. His tongue dampens the fabric, and his hot breath permeates through to caress my breast. Then he bites down, making me cry out in pleasure before moving to the other.

My panties are soaked, and I’m rubbing myself on him brazenly, pressing my center into his body and rolling my hips in an attempt to relieve the pressure between my thighs while he sucks on my nipples. He groans and moves his mouth back to mine. Tightening his grip on my butt, he presses me more firmly against him before lowering me down and then dragging me back up so that his erection is rubbing tortuously between my thighs. Even through our clothes, I can tell his length is impressive and rock hard, and I need to feel him on me without the barrier of clothing.

I shove my hands between us and snag the band of his jeans, ready to rip them off of him, when we fall backwards onto the bed.

How did we get here? Has he been moving this whole time?

I yelp on impact with my favorite sheets, then giggle when we bounce a little on the mattress, and I can feel his smile when he covers my mouth with his.

He raises up on his knees and pulls off his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him, then lowers himself back over me. His hands on either side of my head, his biceps straining to support his hovering form, and like a magnet my hands are drawn to his chest.

I run my palms roughly over his pecs, then down to his abs, taking the time to run my fingers through the ridges and grooves that define his sculpted six-pack. When I start to trace my fingertips over the deep V at the bottom of his torso, he lets out a shuddering breath and attacks my lips once more. He plunges his tongue into my mouth, then bites my lower lip, tugging slightly on it.