“I bet you’re really into kissing,” I tell him.

  His blue eyes blaze with desire. “With the right guy, I fucking love it,” Owen says, in the most sensual voice I’ve ever heard.

  “Your turn,” I say, a little breathless. “Do you need the phone?”

  Owen shakes his head. “I have my next question.”

  “I can’t wait,” I say.

  And he does make me wait. He takes his time. Stares hotly at me. Uncrosses his arms. Rubs a hand along his chin, his thumb swiping his bottom lip. I whimper as he touches his mouth. Ah, but to be that hand, touching those lips.

  Owen takes a step closer, then slides his thumb along my jaw.

  Holy fuck.

  It’s just his thumb on my face, but it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt. I shudder. Everywhere.

  His hand stops and he cups my face. “Would you rather kiss me tonight or never kiss me?”

  This is the line.

  My eyes float closed as the thrill and the danger of his question beckons me to cross the line.

  12

  Owen

  When River opens his eyes, the answer is written in them—the way they shine with desire.

  It’s in his shoulders, how they rise and fall.

  And it’s in his breath, a harsh pant.

  Then his answer comes in words too. “Now. I want to kiss you now, Owen.”

  But I want to kiss River. I want to set the pace. I’ve thought about it for years, and it’s happening at last—my greatest fantasy. “I’m going to kiss you first,” I tell him.

  “I don’t care who goes first. Let’s just fucking kiss.”

  Sexiest words ever. They make me feel like a king.

  Clasping my hands on River’s shoulders, I turn him so he’s backed against the counter. I slide a hand through his hair, and my entire body is a pinwheel of sensations. Wild shivers race down my arms as my fingers roam through his strands. My fingers are tingling—just from this. This small, sensual touch is electrifying my senses and I want to record every second of this kiss for posterity.

  Remember it always.

  Like how River bites his lip, his breath coming in a shuddery, persistent rhythm of pleasure as I stroke his impossibly silky hair.

  Like how he leans into my hand, seeking contact. Seeking me.

  I want to remember, too, how he looks at me, his brown irises tinged with so much desire it’s like it radiates off him.

  I want to take my time with everything. Every touch. My hand coasts down to his neck, traveling over his shoulder, along his arm. He shivers as I go. Then as I press my body to his, I draw out the first ever groan from him.

  “Oh God, that feels good,” he says, in a needy whimper.

  A thrill rushes through the center of my being.

  I did this.

  I made him feel this good.

  It’s heady and intense, and I want this night to last forever.

  A tremble races down my body as wishes and wants collide. At long last, desire meets reality and it’s utter bliss.

  I let go of him to take off my glasses, setting them carefully on the counter behind him.

  “You’re hot with glasses and without glasses,” River says. “Like I said, you’re just a hottie.”

  “Glad you think so.” Closing my eyes, I lean in, my face drifting closer to his, and I inhale that forest rain scent. “Mmm,” I murmur, like I’m floating above Earth, completely intoxicated. And it’s not the champagne. It’s him.

  And it’s him wanting me with the same ferocity.

  River’s lust is a mirage and I want to wrap myself in its shimmer.

  So I inch even closer, my cheek so dizzyingly near to his.

  But I don’t touch his face yet, or his lips, because I want to drive him insane—make him beg with his body. Then, once he’s aching and needy, I’ll kiss him till he’s moaning for me. I’ll devour his lips till his hands thread through my hair, till he claws and grasps, till his breath comes in wild pants.

  Till River can’t control his desire anymore.

  Then he’ll know what my life’s been like around him.

  I can’t wait any longer. After all these years, I need to touch him.

  Brushing my lips along his jaw, I can’t hold back a ragged moan. “Oh God,” I gasp.

  “Yessssss,” he murmurs, and in a heartbeat, his hands slide around my waist, gripping my hips, anchoring me in place.

  My head is a haze of longing as I sweep my mouth along his jawline, then under it. River moves with me, lifting his face, giving me access to his neck. That scent of his hair and the smell of his soap swirl around me as I kiss his neck.

  Here, there, everywhere.

  My lips travel all over him, and I am in heaven. He’s better than I daydreamed—than I night-dreamed.

  He tastes like the man who drives me wild.

  I press a hand to his chest, my palm spreading over the fabric of his shirt as I roam my lips along his day-old stubble, savoring the sandpaper scrape against my face.

  My lips explore him, but I’m not in a rush. I’m ravenous, but determined to savor every single second of our first kiss.

  In case it’s our last.

  With another moan, I make my way to his ear, nipping the lobe. He groans in exquisite misery. That sound. My God, it winds me up. Sends desire spinning wildly through my body. Makes my heart hammer harder for him.

  “Owen, are you ever going to kiss me?” River pleads, and I just smile against his skin. Smile, because I’m so damn thrilled he wants me the same way.

  “Patience,” I whisper.

  “It’s hard to be patient when you’re so good at that,” he rasps out.

  Prides suffuses me, filling every cell in my body. I pull my gaze back for a second, our eyes locking. River looks as lost in lust as I am, eyes hazy, cheeks flushed, desire written all over him.

  At last, I speak the words aloud to him that define my heart.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you for years,” I say, and I don’t give him a chance to register the enormity of my confession. Since at last, my lips brush his, and everything—just everything—in the whole universe fades away.

  Our lips meet and I know in my soul there has never been a first kiss like this.

  This is why people kiss.

  For this possibility.

  This potent connection.

  Our lips slide together, and I taste him. Enjoy him.

  I intend to savor every single second of this kiss and this night. I want to live in it, without consequence. To roll around in this perfect kiss as his lips explore mine, as his hands roam over my ass, as he tugs me against him like he can’t get close enough either.

  I want it all to last, because I am so deeply in love with River already, and I hope, I truly hope, he doesn’t break my heart.

  But soon, I’m no longer thinking about my heart.

  I’m only feeling.

  We kiss for ages in the kitchen. Not stopping. I’m not even able to stop. Just lips and teeth and tongues and heat. I have no will to end this kiss. So I don’t even try. I take more and more, consuming my friend’s kisses, gobbling them up, loving them completely.

  Then asking for more.

  Asking with my lips, with my tongue, with my whole body.

  I grind my pelvis against his, rubbing our hard-ons together, making him grunt and me groan.

  Our lips keep crashing back and with every single kiss I’m feeling so many things at once—lust, heat, desire. And a wildly intense need to show him just how good I can be to him.

  When I said those words in the car, I meant as a boyfriend. I meant I’d be good to a man outside of the bedroom.

  But in my book, boyfriends should also be very good to each other when clothes come off.

  That’s a privilege—to make someone else feel incredible in bed. That’s something I’m dying to do for him.

  So when I break the kiss, I slide a hand down his chest on a fast track for his cock. I cover the ridge of his erection with my palm, then squeeze.

  “Umm, you cocktease,” River moans.

  I laugh lightly. “I’m only a tease if I don’t go through with it.”

  He jerks me closer, lifts his chin. “And what do you want to go through with?”

  I press a hot, quick kiss to his lips, then pull back. “I’d really like to get on my knees for you and suck your cock.”

  River unbuttons his jeans, slides down the zipper, and takes me up on my offer.

  13

  River

  There are many varieties of blow jobs.

  Some are quick and to the point. Those are like a straight shot up a roller coaster, then a fantastic ride downhill at top speed.

  Others are dirty and deep. The kind where the head of your cock hits the back of his throat, and he takes you all the way.

  There’s the long, slow tease. With lots of licks and kisses.

  All are good, since there are pretty much no bad blow jobs.

  But then there is this.

  A brand-new variety I’m discovering tonight as Owen plays with my dick. As he swirls his tongue across the head. As he licks a long, decadent stripe down my shaft, then back up.

  “Your mouth is so fucking perfect,” I moan as he wraps those sensual lips around my length, like he’s showing off how incomparably sexy his mouth is.

  Clasping his face in one hand, I run my thumb across his top lip, breathing out hard as I gaze at the beautifully filthy sight in front of me. Owen stares up at me with wide, hungry eyes, running his hands over my thighs, playing with my abs, traveling his palms along my body. All while he seduces my cock with his gorgeous mouth and tongue and magic.

  This is a whole other kind of blow job, and already, it’s my favorite. It’s worship, and it’s clear Owen believes. What’s clear too is how much I like attending the church of Owen’s blow jobs. I’m going to sing its praises as he draws me in more, moaning around my shaft. His sounds send shockwaves of pleasure across my skin. His murmurs make me shudder.

  Because, seriously, this—it’s too much. It’s too hot. It’s just . . . everything. “Look at you. Your lips are so sexy wrapped around my dick,” I rasp out as his blue eyes sparkle with naughty delight.

  The show-off that he is, my friend hauls me in even deeper, then deeper still, and my hips jerk and my cock throbs in the warmth of his mouth. “Yes . . . show me how you can take all of me. Show me now,” I demand, and he does, oh hell, does he ever.

  I can feel him relax his throat, open more, let me sink farther, till I am all the way. Oh yes, my dick has disappeared into the unholy paradise of Owen’s delicious mouth, and the sight of him swallowing me whole makes my legs shake.

  Groaning, I run my hands through his hair as pleasure radiates into every damn cell. My dick is having the best time ever getting to know his wicked mouth, and still, I want more.

  “Yes, get closer to me,” I tell Owen, and he does as told, taking me and having me and holding me deep.

  My body twitches with pleasure as Owen sucks hard on the length of me, adoring my shaft with his tongue, drawing me deep with those lips, then reaching out to grab my ass with both hands.

  Squeezing me.

  Urging me with his palms to fuck his face.

  I shudder, my breath coming hard and fast as the need to pump takes over.

  Still, I want to make sure he can handle a good face-fucking.

  It’s only polite, after all. And good manners in bed go a long way.

  I ease out, rubbing the head across his lips. He moans eagerly, licking me.

  “You’re incredible,” I say, curling my other hand tighter through his thick, lush hair. “And I really want to fuck your mouth. But only if you’re into that.”

  “I’m so into that,” Owen says, all husky and eager as he licks the crown like I’m a piece of candy, then he brings me back home.

  I clasp his head tight, my palms coiling around his skull.

  Then, I go to town on his decadent mouth, driving my cock between his lips as he sucks and slurps. His noises spur me on, the wet smacks, the gasping breaths, the moans.

  One hand lets go of my ass, but he keeps another curled hard around me, jerking me deeper, letting me know not only can he take it, but he wants to.

  I keep Owen in place, snapping my hips as lust rockets hard and fast through my body. My balls constrict, and a blinding wave of pleasure slams into me. I can barely come up for air—it feels so damn good what he’s doing to me. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I half beg, half order. And my God, he takes orders so damn well, sucking with greedy abandon, with wild fervor.

  As the promise of bliss ricochets through me, my gaze swings down and I unleash a wild groan. Owen’s unzipped his jeans, shoved his hand in his briefs, and he’s stroking his cock. His gorgeous, thick, hard cock that I want to have all to myself.

  “Save it for me. Don’t come, baby. Want to taste you,” I rasp out.

  He nods, squeezing his dick, then letting go to pull me farther into his mouth. When I slide all the way in again, ecstasy takes over, blasting through each cell in my body as I come so damn hard down my best friend’s throat.

  And Owen takes every last drop.

  I pant and gasp for air, but I don’t let go of his hair. It feels right in my hands. It feels good between my fingers.

  He feels amazing here with me.

  And I don’t think we have a friendship pact anymore, and I’m not sure I want to go back there.

  14

  Owen

  My head is dizzy.

  My whole body is a live wire.

  I’m not sure I can stand, since I’m still buzzing from touching River for the first time, from bringing him the pleasure I’ve been dreaming of. But I want to get up, since I need to kiss him again. Do more. Do everything.

  I push up on my feet, but before I can rise, River is down on the floor, his spent dick out, his hands on my face, clasping me.

  “You are incredible,” he says, and it sounds like he’s glowing—maybe it’s good radiation from the orgasm I just gave him. “Just incredible.”

  Not gonna lie—the praise lights me up. I’m such a praise junkie. It turns me on to bring pleasure, to be told I made a guy feel amazing. It thrills me more to give than to receive.

  I half expect River to kiss me right now, because that’s my favorite thing to do after a blow job. But instead, his mouth pays a visit to my throat, kissing me there. “I don’t even know what you did to me, Owen. That was insane,” he says, lavishing kisses all along my neck, my Adam’s apple, like he’s cherishing where his dick was minutes ago. “Your throat is like magic. Did you find a lamp somewhere and make a wish with a genie to have no gag reflex?”

  I crack up, leaning my head back, laughing. “Yes. You figured me out.”

  River raises his face, still holding my cheeks. “You are the blow job champion of the world. Just know that. And listen, I’m going to suck you off in about two minutes. Once I recover from the world’s most outstanding head ever given to any man in history. But I want to warn you. I am not as good as you. I hope you can forgive me, you fucking deep-throat god. My dick is humbled to have made the great acquaintance of your mouth.”

  Yeah, I’m beaming inside. “My mouth is pretty happy to have met your dick,” I say.

  And the rest of me is too.

  All of me is.

  “Seriously, though. I just want you to know what I do to you will be like the BMW of head to your Bugatti.”

  “BMWs are hot rides, River,” I say. “Also, shut up. It’s going to feel great because it’s you,” I say, but once those words come out, I’ve got to remind myself to keep my emotions in check.

  Now is not the time to bust out the I am so in love with you or any variation on that you’re the one theme.

  Now is the time for more sex.

  Just sex.

  I have no idea where we’re going, but I also don’t want to contemplate it tonight. I just want to feel.

  “Mmm,” he says, grabbing my face, and hauling me to him. River drops his lips to mine and kisses me hard and deep. Like he’s claiming me. The possession in this kiss floods my mind with endorphins.

  He tastes a little like champagne still, but mostly like a man who’s been thoroughly kissed.

  His tongue explores my mouth as he holds my cheeks. As he tugs and sucks on my lips, the reckless desire I have for him ratchets up a few more notches, then higher still.

  As I moan into his kisses, he sneaks a hand to my crotch, squeezes my dick. I break the kiss. “Gimme that second-rate blow job,” I tease.

  River points to the living room. “BMW time, here we come. Get this hot body in front of the fireplace stat.”

  Hello, snowed-in fantasy, it is nice to meet you.

  I’m going to get blown by the man of my dreams in front of a roaring fire as snow falls outside.

  Winning.

  He tugs his jeans up far enough to walk to the living room. Once we’re there, he slides his hands up the front of my Henley, making me tremble. Every touch melts me. As I look down at him, since he’s just a couple inches shorter, the whole moment is still so surreal.

  To have his hands on me.

  To see him looking at me this way.

  Even after he came down my throat, it’s surreal.

  But then, it’s all so incredibly real when his fingers dip under my shirt, and he touches my stomach. Shivering with pleasure, I let out a smoky sigh.

  His hands journey up my abs, and he hums as he goes. “Two, four, six, eight,” he says. “Oh yes, I appreciate this eight-pack.”

  I laugh, pretty happy that he likes what he feels.

  Hell, pretty happy?

  I am only happy.

  So happy I tug off my shirt in one quick move.

  River grins lasciviously at me. “Imma need you all the way naked for this, hottie,” he says as he roams his hands over my pecs, down my arms, then back the other way, retracing his motions and returning to the waistband of my jeans, still unzipped. “I need to play with this whole beautiful body and kiss you all over.”