Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned 3)

I’m sure the expression on my face screams affronted. “I prefer you happy, and I can see talking about this is having the opposite effect. So, no.”

His eyes close, once again pained as he mutters under his breath. “She prefers me happy. She cancels her own surprise for wheelchair basketball. She doesn’t care about the waitress.” He lifts his eyes heavenward. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Um, okay then. “What are you talking about?”

Max smiles. It’s forced. I know this, because it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing.” He holds out a hand and I place my own in it. He lifts it to his mouth and kisses it. “Just glad I’m here. With you.” He kisses my knuckles a second time. “No place I’d rather be.”

I smile softly. “Ditto.”

Dinner only gets better from that point. Max and I eat, talk, and laugh most of the night, and when it comes time to leave, he leaves a more than decent tip for poor, sweet Kate. I’d like to say my sympathy runs deep, but I’d be lying. I am more than happy to be the one going home with Max. Ecstatic, really.

Like a gentleman, he opens the car door for me and sees me inside. We drive back to my apartment, and from the moment we step outside of the car, we can’t keep our hands off of each other. Reaching up, he hooks a hand behind my neck, pulling me closer, and then his lips come down to mine.

And I melt into him. The kiss is deep and sweet. My knees turn to jelly and my core clenches tighter than ever. His lips are soft, softer than I imagined, and the smell of his cologne makes my head swim.

My mouth waters. God, he’s delicious.

A total DILF.

We can’t keep our lips to ourselves the entire way upstairs. When we reach my apartment, I unlock the door, lips firmly attached to his, and we step inside, closing the door behind us. His arms wind around me, holding me tight, leading me toward my bedroom, when something comes to mind.

Separating from him, I step back, delighted in the small growl that escapes him. I walk backward to the kitchen, unbuttoning my jeans as I do, smiling sexily. I slowly lower my zipper, hook my thumbs into the waistband, and push my jeans down my legs. Stepping out of them, I move to the counter.

I see the exact moment he understands. Fire lights in his eyes, and suddenly, he rips at his clothes. I chuckle softly as he fights with his belt buckle. In the sudden excitement, he’s become clumsy. He kicks his shoes off, leaning down and hopping on the spot to remove his socks. He lowers his jeans halfway, then takes a step, tripping over them. He rights himself, pulling his shirt over his head, forgetting the buttons and having it get stuck around his neck. He pulls, tugs, and yanks until he’s finally free and nearly naked.

My silky tan tank is easily removed, and then I’m only in my cream lace bra and matching French-cut panties. Which is fine, because Max is dressed only in black and white checkered boxers. He palms his erection as he walks over to me. Eyes hooded with lust, he admits, “I don’t think I can hold back.”

Reaching behind me, I undo my bra, letting it fall down my arms. “I don’t want you to.”

He squeezes his cock tight through his boxers. “It might be rough.”

Making a show of it, I slide my panties down my thighs, letting them go at the knee. They fall to the ground. “I love rough.”

He eyes my body appreciatively, then mutters unconsciously, “You make me crazy.”

I love the way he looks at me. “You make my body burn.”

One more st

ep and he’s in front of me, looking down at me. He leans down, pushing my back into the side of the counter, and takes my lips in a feral kiss before spinning me around and pushing his front into my back. The hard warmth of his body gives me goose bumps. Reaching around, he takes my hands and places them on the counter. “Don’t move.”

My stomach clenches. Oh my. Gentle hands roam my body and I ache. One hand squeezes my nape in such a dominant way I press my thighs together and bite my lip to stop myself from crying out. The other hand caresses my shoulders, back, lower still, the curve of my ass, squeezing gently before he steps back.

I fight a mewl. His fingertips graze the skin of my bottom a moment before he slides them down between my legs.

Eeeek! Yay!

My eyes close in delight as he hisses out, “Fuck. Jesus, Lena, I—fuck.” He presses into me from behind, his hard heat pushing into my ass, a finger sliding back and forth through my heat. He puts his lips to my ear and whispers, “You always gonna be this wet for me?”

Not even a moment’s hesitation. “Always, baby.” I haven’t even noticed he’s removed his boxers ‘til the head of him seeks entrance. Arching my back, I hold the counter tight and mutter, “For as long as you want me.”

He stills at my back, and my eyes snap open as I think hard about what I’ve said wrong. Moving my hair over my shoulder, a gentle kiss at the base of my neck eases my tension. With his lips against me, he utters, “When are you gonna understand, woman?” His cock slides through my wet heat, teasing. I moan weakly. He places himself at my entrance before stating harshly, “I am never letting you go.”

With one severe thrust, he’s inside of me, stretching me, all the way. And I see stars. I gasp, “Oh God!” at the same time Max lets out a guttural, “Jesus. Fuck.”

Bending at the waist, I lower my face to the counter, resting my cheek to the cool surface as he pounds into me angrily. Every single thrust pulls a pant from me. My breasts bounce in time with my body. Max snakes a hand around my stomach, pulling me deeper into him as he drives into me. He’s so deep he hits places of me I didn’t know existed. It’s amazing. Breathtaking.

Slamming into me, he whispers, “Shit. Perfect. Tell me what you need, baby.”