40. Darcy

CHAPTER 40

DARCY

On screen, she lies on the mattress while he buries his golden-blond head between her legs, dragging his tongue over her again and again. Her hand twines in his hair, her wedding ring sparkling in the late-afternoon waning sunlight.

"Don't stop," she breathes as she tugs his hair. He lets out a low, pained groan, back muscles tensing, and heat swirls low in my abdomen. She arches, and when his hand snakes up to her breast, toying with a pinched nipple, I feel the aroused tug in my own body.

I spare a glance at Hayden lying beside me, watching. They look like us. It's not just the color of the guy's hair or that he's basically a slab of chiseled muscle like Hayden, or that she's probably the same dress size as me and has hair a shade similar to mine before I dyed it.

It's that he touches her with comfortable ease, possessive but loving. It reminds me of how Hayden kissed me at the cast party, like I was his and he would take better care of me than anyone.

Hayden watches the video with focus, hands folded over his flat stomach. His breathing is uneven, but he doesn't move a muscle.

She gasps again on screen, and even as my intimate muscles clench and moisture pools between my legs, I feel a twist of envy. I want that, and I want Hayden to be the one to do it.

I know how to use the toy. The video I watched—the one that played loudly at the bar—was crystal clear. It's that I'm worried I'll think about Hayden the entire time I use it. Using it feels like a step forward into something very, very risky and messy.

Near the end of the video, instead of coming, she pulls at his arm, and he climbs up to hover over her, kissing her sweetly, softly, so lovingly. It's so tender and affectionate that my heart aches. This is the kind of porn Hayden's into? I thought it would be something fast, hot, and frantic.

The video ends and neither of us moves. Heat pulses through me, gathering between my legs.

"Hayden?" I breathe, unable to pull my gaze from the screen but extremely aware of the man lying on the bed beside me.

"Yeah?" His voice is hoarse.

"I think I'm good." I wet my lips. "I'm turned on now."

He nods quickly, taking a deep breath. "Good. Yeah. Okay."

We look at each other, tension in the air, and I can barely stop myself from climbing on top of him.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asks in a low voice, studying me with heavy-lidded eyes.

I shake my head. His gaze darkens.

"Do you want to leave?" I ask quietly.

Holding my gaze, he shakes his head. "Nope."

My pulse stumbles at the intensity in his eyes, and I wonder if, maybe, maybe , he wants this as much as I do. From the impressive erection straining against the front of his pants, I know he's turned on .

It's just our bodies, I tell myself. Of course we're turned on after watching porn. We can still be best friends after. I won't lose my head over him.

He stands and walks to my desk, and my heart pounds as he unboxes the toy with his back to me, muscles jumping under his t-shirt. He brings it back to the bed, and the mattress dips when he kneels on it. The pink toy in his hand is curved like a U.

"This part"—he points at one side—"sucks on your clit, and this part"—he points to the other end—"vibrates against your G-spot." His throat works. "And you can adjust the settings with these buttons."

I nod and suck in a deep breath. "You do it." Deep in my brain, the rational part of me is wide-eyed and panicking, wondering why I'm playing with matches and kerosene like this, but I ignore her. "Maybe you could use it on me," I clarify.

I also don't think he's breathing. "Are you sure?"

I nod. I want this. An ache builds behind my clit, and my panties are damp. And he smells so good and he's so hot and handsome and kind and perfect and I want him . I just want him. It's as simple as that.

I want Hayden to make me feel like the guy in the video made his partner feel.

Holding his eyes, I unbutton my jeans and slide them off.

"Fuck," he mutters, raking his fingers through his hair, messing it up.

His eyes go dark and drugged as his gaze slides over my legs and panties. Need shivers through me. It's that glazed, aroused look in his eyes that pushes me to pull my top off, and now I'm sitting on my bed in just my panties and bra while Hayden's lips part like I'm the hottest woman on the planet.

It's a powerful feeling, rendering Hayden Owens speechless .

"You should take your shirt and pants off, too," I whisper. "I'd feel more comfortable that way."

The side of his mouth hooks and he nods before he yanks his t-shirt over his head. I watch every muscle on his torso jump and dance with the movement, and when he undoes his belt with strong hands, another rush of arousal courses through me.

"We can stop at any time," he says, pulling his pants off.

My eyes go to the thick length distorting the front of his boxers. I can imagine the way it would feel under my palm, firm and pulsing. "I know."

"And there's no pressure to come."

I nod again, holding back a snort. From how wet my panties are and the heat coiling low in my stomach, I'm more concerned about coming the second he touches me with the toy.

He sweeps his gaze over me—lying back against the pillows, hair a mess, I'm sure—before he takes a deep breath.

"So serious," I whisper.

He huffs, a quick grin breaking across his handsome features.

It seems to spark back a bit of the Hayden I know, the teasing, friendly, fun-loving guy.

"I'm going to slip this in your panties," he says, holding my gaze and bringing the toy closer to me, and my knees fall farther apart.

I can't believe we're doing this. I can't believe this is real. He hooks a finger beneath the leg of my panties and slips the toy against me, and I instinctively arch as sensation rockets through me.