But he didn’t want to. He knew he should. He knew that at the end of this road there was nothing good. Nothing good at all. But he shut all that down. He didn’t think of the road ahead.
He just let his brain go blank. He just sat back and watched as she trailed her fingers up the line of his zipper, grabbing hold of his belt buckle and undoing it, her movements clumsy, speaking of an inexperience he didn’t want to examine too closely.
He didn’t want to examine any of this too closely, but he was powerless to do anything else.
Because everything around the moment went fuzzy as the present sharpened. Almost painfully.
His eyes were drawn to her fingers as she pulled his zipper down, to the short, no-nonsense fingernails, the specks of dirt embedded in her skin. That should...well, he had the vague idea it should turn him off. It didn’t. Though he had a feeling that getting a bucket of water thrown on him while he sat in the middle of an iceberg naked wouldn’t turn him off at this point. He was too far gone.
He was holding his breath. Every muscle in his body frozen. He couldn’t believe that she would do what it appeared she might be doing. She would stop. She had to stop. He needed her to stop. He needed her to never stop. To keep going.
She pressed her palm flat against his ab muscles before pushing her hand down inside his jeans, reaching beneath his underwear and curling her fingers around him. His breath hissed through his teeth, a shudder racking his frame.
She looked up at him, green eyes glittering in the dim shop light. She had a smudge of dirt on her face that somehow only highlighted her sharp cheekbones, somehow emphasized her beauty in a way he hadn’t truly noticed it before. Yes, last night in the red dress she had been beautiful, there was no doubt about that. But for some reason, her femininity was highlighted wrapped in these traditionally masculine things. By the backdrop of the mechanic shop, the evidence of a day’s hard work on her soft skin.
She tilted her chin up, her expression one of absolute challenge. She was waiting for him to call it off. Waiting for him to push her away. But he wasn’t going to. He reached out, forking his fingers through her hair and tightening them, grabbing ahold of the loose bun that sat high on her head. Her eyes widened, her lips going slack. He didn’t pull her away. He didn’t draw her closer. He just held on tight, keeping his gaze firmly focused on hers. Then he released her. And he waited.
She licked her lips slowly, an action that would have been almost comically obvious coming from nearly anyone else. Not Anna.
Then she squeezed him gently before drawing her hand back. He should be relieved. He was not.
But her next move was not one he anticipated. She grabbed hold of the waistband of his jeans and underwear, pulling them down slowly, exposing him. She let out a shaky, shuddering breath before leaning in and flicking her tongue over the head of his arousal.
“Hell.” He wasn’t sure at first if he had spoken it out loud, not until he heard it echoing around him. It was like cursing in a church somehow, wrong considering the beauty of the gift he was about to receive.
Still, he couldn’t think of anything else as she drew the tip of her tongue all the way down to the base of his shaft before retracing her path. She shifted, and that was when he noticed her hands were shaking. Fair enough, since he was shaking, too.
She parted her lips, taking him into her mouth completely, her lips sliding over him, the wet, slick friction almost too much for him to handle. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. If it was the shock of the moment, if it was just that he was this base. Or if there was some kind of sick, perverted part of him that took extra pleasure in the fact that this was wrong. That he should not be letting his best friend touch him like this.
Because he’d had more skilled blow jobs. There was no question about that. This didn’t feel good because Anna was an expert in the art of fellatio. Far from it.
Still, his head was about to blow off. And he was about to lose all of his control. So there was something.
Maybe it was just her.
She tilted her head to the side as she took him in deep, giving him a good view of just what she was doing. And just who was doing it. He was so aware of the fact that it was Anna, and that most definitely added a kick of the forbidden. Because he knew this was bad. Knew it was wrong.
And not many things were off-limits to him. Not many things had an illicit quality to them. He had kind of allowed himself to take anything and everything that had ever seemed vaguely sexy to him.
Except for her.
He shoved that thought in the background. He didn’t like to think of Anna that way, and in general he didn’t.
Sure, in high school, there had been moments. But he was a guy. And he had spent a lot of time with Anna. Alone in her room, alone in his. He had a feeling that half the people who had known them had imagined they were getting it on behind the scenes. Friends with benefits, et cetera. In reality, the only benefit to their friendship had been the fact that they’d been there for each other. They had never been there for each other in this way.
Maybe that’s what was wrong with him.
Of course, nothing felt wrong with him right now. Right now, pleasure was crackling close to the surface of his skin and it was shorting out his brain. All he could do was sit back and ride the high. Embrace the sensations that were boiling through his blood. The magic of her lips and tongue combined with a shocking scrape of her teeth against his delicate skin made him buck his hips against her even as he tried to rein himself in.
But he was reaching the end of his control, the end of himself. He reached down, cupping her cheek as she continued to pleasure him, as she continued to drive him wild, urging him closer to the edge of control he hadn’t realized he possessed.
He felt like he lived life with the shackles off, but she was pushing him so much further than he’d been before that he knew he’d been lying to himself all this time.
He’d been in chains, and hadn’t even realized it.
Maybe because of her. Maybe to keep himself from touching her.
She gripped him, squeezing as she tasted him, pushing him straight over the edge. He held on to her hair, harder than he should, as a wave of pleasure rode up inside of him. And when it crashed he didn’t ride it into shore. Oh, hell no. When it crashed it drove him straight down to the bottom of the sea, the impact leaving him spinning, gasping for breath, battered on the rocks.
But dammit all, it was worth it. Right now, it was worth it.
He knew that any moment the feeling would fade and he would be faced with the stark horror of what he’d just done, of what he’d just allowed to happen. But for now, he was foggy, floating in the kind of mist that always blanketed the ocean on cold mornings in Copper Ridge.
And he would cling to it as long as possible.
* * *
Oh, dear God. What had she done? This had gone so far beyond the kiss to prove they had chemistry. It had gone so far past the challenge that Chase had thrown down last night. It had gone straight into Crazy Town, next stop You Messed Up the Only Friendship You Hadville.
In combination with the swirling panic that was wrapping its claws around her and pulling her into a spiral was the fuzzy-headed lingering
