48. Darcy

CHAPTER 48

DARCY

Hayden claims my mouth with an urgency that scrambles all my thoughts.

"No more double dates," he says against my lips, and I nod.

His fingers sink into my hair, and mine into his. All the frustration radiating off him is refocused into something sharper and hotter as he coaxes my lips open and strokes inside, exploring and tasting.

He presses me against the wall. I think I moan. If this is a mistake, it's the best one I ever made.

"God, yes," he groans when he gently sucks on the tip of my tongue. "No more dates at all. Understand?"

"Uh-huh."

We're not making out for practice or to send a message to some actor I'm not interested in. He's not showing me the ropes anymore or testing to see if I'm a good enough kisser.

We're doing this because we want to. Because we can't stand it anymore. Because we need to see what happens next. I'm not sure what's happening, but I'm a willing participant, allowing Hayden to take what he wants.

Which is me, from the way his thick erection presses into my stomach. The realization thrills me and a shiver runs down my back.

"Cold?" he murmurs between kisses.

I shake my head, and he catches my bottom lip between his teeth. "Good."

This kiss is different from the first time, like a switch has flipped inside Hayden. He's lit up, focused, driven—it's the same something different that's been simmering under the surface for weeks now, lifting its head during games when he scores goals.

With a hand at the hem of my top, he drags a fingertip over the sliver of bare skin between it and my jeans, and my entire focus narrows to where he touches me.

"Take this off."

The command in his voice wraps another delicious coil of heat around the base of my spine. I fumble with the zipper before he lifts the garment over my head.

His throat works as he takes me in, staring at my chest, eyes moving over the pretty, delicate lace bra.

"This is what I've been thinking about for days. This"—he hooks a finger beneath the strap and lets it gently snap against my skin—"has been driving me wild since I saw it."

His fingers skim over the edges of the lace, over the tops of my breasts, over my shoulders, and goosebumps scatter across my skin.

"Who'd you put this on for tonight?" he asks in a low voice.

"You," I whisper, heart pounding. It was Hayden's reaction that I pictured as I put it on.

His mouth hooks, and I think I'm smiling back up at him as I rest my palms on his firm chest.

"That's what I like to hear," he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to mine again .

Kissing Hayden is so delicious . So effortless but necessary, like breathing. I never, ever want to stop, and from the way his hands roam my hips, my arms, my hair, never settling in one place, like he's trying to memorize my body by touch, I don't think he wants to stop either.

We're best friends. We're roommates. He's the life-of-the-party player who isn't interested in commitment.

He might not be that guy, though, and I might not care anymore that this could complicate things.

I just want him, and I want him to have what he wants.

His stubble gently scrapes my chin as his tongue strokes across mine, scattering more of my thoughts, and when the back of my knees bump something, I realize he's walked me backward to the bed.

He lowers me down, and I sink into the duvet as his scent washes over me.

"I love being in your bed," I admit as he undoes the button on my jeans.

His eyes warm. "I love you being in my bed, too."

I lift my hips to let him pull my jeans off. His eyes drag over my underwear. It's a wisp of thin lace that barely covers anything, and from the way his eyes darken as he rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily, Hayden likes them.

"We're buying you more of those," he says, staring daggers at them.

He says we like we're a couple. It should send darts of terror through me, but it doesn't. I like the idea of us buying lingerie together, of his eyes flashing with heat when he sees me in it.

He climbs over me, resting on his elbows on either side of my head, gazing down at me with desire and affection before his mouth drops to mine. Our kiss is hot, fast, and desperate, all tongues and teeth and lips and gasps. We keep forgetting to breathe. His erection presses against my stomach, and I arch against it, parting my legs, making room for Hayden to settle between my hips. His weight on me is luxurious. The warmth from his skin sends a thrill through me. He threads his fingers into the back of my hair, tilting my head as he breaks our kiss and runs his mouth down my jaw and neck.

"You smell so fucking good ," he groans, and a wave of moisture rushes between my legs. "You always do. And you taste so goddamned sweet." He nips the sensitive spot beneath my ear and a needy noise slips out of my throat. "You need more, don't you?"

I nod, barely holding back the yes, please blaring in my head. The corner of his mouth tips up, pleased and knowing.

His fingers find a pinched nipple, and he toys with it through the thin lace of my bra, mouth returning to mine. Each tug of his fingers pulls between my legs, warming me, ratcheting up the pressure and heat. I sink further into the sensations of his tongue against mine. My underwear is soaked, and my hips tilt against him, seeking more. Finally, his hand trails down from my breast and strokes over the front of my panties.

Pleasure sweeps through me at the contact, and we groan at the same time.

"You're so wet." He watches my face in fascination, rubbing a firm, wide circle over me, and my eyes fall closed. "Don't close your eyes," he says in a low, firm voice. There's a hint of teasing to his tone, like this is a game. "Don't you dare."

I open them, pressing my lips into a tight line to hold in the moan, and his mouth hooks up as he rubs firmer circles. Need coils low in my body, tight and hot.

"That's good, isn't it?"

I nod. He hums, smiling that dark, glazed smile, glancing between my face and where his hand works between my legs.

"What are we going to do tonight, Darce?" His tone is low and lazy as his lips skim over my skin. "What new item are we crossing off your list?"

He pulls my bra aside, freeing my nipple, and sucks the sensitive peak. My core tightens and I gasp.

"Hmm?" He meets my gaze, lifting his hand away from me. My hips follow, demanding contact, but he just skims his fingers over the waistband of my thong, the seams over my hips, teasing me. "What's it going to be?"

He's going to make me say it. I don't know where my sweet, fun-loving Hayden went, but I love this version of him. The version who's in charge and reveling in the power.

My eyes drop to his lips. "Your mouth."

"Oh yeah?" His grin hooks. "Where do you want this mouth, Darcy?" He drops hot, nipping kisses to my shoulder, my stomach, and then my hip. I tighten up in anticipation. "Show me, honey."

Him calling me honey leaves me defenseless. My pulse races as my hand snakes down and rests over my panties.

"Here?" He rubs another slow, firm circle over the fabric, and I buck into his hand. "Say it, Darcy."

"Yes," I rush out, buzzing with pent-up energy. "There."

Hayden watches my face while he slips his hand beneath the fabric. At the brush of his fingers, my breath catches, and his drugged smile slides higher.

"Fucking soaked," he whispers, dragging his fingertips in circles over my clit.

My eyes roll back; He's so in tune with exactly what I need, it's like he's in my head.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course." I know even if I can't come, Hayden won't get sulky and defensive. He'll just gather me up in his arms and kiss me .

"Good girl."

He pulls his hand away and sits on his heels, kneeling as he slides my panties off. With his hands on my inner thighs, he presses my legs open. My pulse jumps with the vulnerability, spread wide under him, unable to hide. But our eyes meet and he mutters a curse under his breath. He's so gorgeous, I don't know where to look—his handsome face, his fucked-up and messy hair, the carved chest, shoulders, and abdomen dusted with hair, or the strong thighs braced on the bed.

"I love that look on your face, so desperate for me to touch you." He pauses, watching me with an expression that looks a lot like reverence.

No one's ever looked at me like that.

He slides his hand between my legs, brushing every sensitive nerve ending with his flat palm, and my thighs tighten up as heat races through me.

"You're so pretty here." He watches his hand move over me with a glazed look on his face. "So soft and wet."

Heat gathers and throbs between my legs, and every time he brushes my clit, electricity jolts through me. His cock strains against his boxers and I feel another needy ache.

"Hayden." I reach for it, but his hand comes to my wrist and he laces his fingers with mine.

Amusement sparks beyond the hunger in his eyes. "Be patient."

I make a noise of frustration and arch against his hand, seeking more friction, but he leans forward and clamps his forearm over my hips, holding me down.

"You're going to wait," he tells me, and my blood heats at the command in his tone.

It's my teasing, funny Hayden, but with authority and dominance, and I really, really like it .

"I've waited so long for this. I don't want to rush things." He gazes between my legs with a playful, heated smirk. "And the longer I make you wait, the harder you'll come."

He brushes my clit again and I half sigh, half growl. He chuckles, drunk on power, eyes dark with lust. Higher and higher, he winds me, until my skin is so hot I could burst into flames. I can see my release on the horizon, but he holds me back, toying with me and taking his time.

"Why don't we try a different type of G-spot orgasm?" he asks in that low, seductive voice that makes me both relax and tense up in aroused anticipation. "What do you think of that?"

I wet my lips, and his eyes follow the movement. "Okay."

"It's going to feel intense, okay?"

"Uh-huh." My breathing is uneven and I'm so turned on I could burst into flames.

With his focus fixed on my face, he pushes a finger inside me. My eyes roll back in my head at the thought-scattering burn of pleasure.

"There." His low, rich voice makes me shiver. "Right there."

I nod, unable to form words. Hayden looks like a god, kneeling between my legs with that expression of power and control on his handsome face. My gaze trails over every ridge and muscle of his torso, shoulders, and arms, focusing finally on his tense forearm as he works his finger inside me.

He adds a second finger, and the aching fullness makes me see stars. He crooks his fingers forward, rubbing my front wall, and I cling to his gaze. The wet sounds of him fucking me with his hand drive me higher.

I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe we're doing this. I can't believe how good it feels. The pleasure of his thick, long fingers inside me is beyond anything I've experienced. My gaze rises to the ceiling, unfocused and heavy-lidded as he reaches parts of me I didn't know existed.

"Hey, hey, hey." His voice is low and soothing, and I pull my gaze back to him. His mouth tips into a pleased smile. "There. Good. Keep looking at me, okay?"

I nod, meeting his fascinated gaze, and another ripple of heat moves through me. This is better than the toy. A million times better. I could die and go to heaven from Hayden touching me like this.

"You're doing so good, honey."

I shudder with pleasure, clutching his hand harder as my muscles tighten around him.

His smile tilts. "You like it when I call you that?"

"Yes," I gasp.

"You're close, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh."

His thumb nudges my clit, drawing slow, firm circles, and it's enough. I tip over the edge, vision blurring and lips parting in a low moan as every nerve in my body fires at once. Just like with the toy, this orgasm is different—lower, deeper, and stronger. Warmth and pressure bubble over, melting my thoughts, and I arch and buck against his hand as he works me through the orgasm, saying things like there we go and such a good girl and what a fucking sight you are, Darce , coming like this on my fingers .

"Hayden," I gasp, and he groans.

Pleasure sweeps through me, and there's a sharp, delicious crackle in my blood as I cling to the reminder that Hayden , my best friend, the guy I've known for years, is making me feel this way. His expression is focused, his smile dark as his attention shifts between my face and where his hand is buried inside me, like my pleasure is his pleasure. With our interlaced fingers, he squeezes my hand once, and I squeeze back.

His strokes slow as I come down, and his grin slants higher.

"Breathe," he says quietly, climbing over me and kissing me. His tongue drags across mine, devouring me as both of us work to catch our breaths. His skin is so warm, and when he pulls back to smile down at me, I'm floating.

Between my legs, his erection nudges, straining against his boxers, and I get a wicked idea of my own.