He had the nerve to laugh at my discomfort.

“Don’t ignore me. Has it made you all wet, kitten?”

A certain taunting entered his voice and while my face flamed I didn't dare look across the expanse of bed at him because I knew he'd smirk seeing me uncomfortable.

The sex on TV continued.

Rugged detective was really going for it, the rain or the ongoing murders didn’t put him off getting his dick wet.

He was my kind of man. God. Make it stop.

My breath hitched, an audible sound that caught his attention.

“You can't ask me that, you unfiltered ass.” I stumbled my words.

“Unfiltered? You called and told me last week when you were having, and I quote the biggest crimson wave cramps this century had ever seen, that your womb was so tense you didn't think it would ever release, all while you were sitting on the toilet. I think we moved by unfiltered a long time ago, don't you?”

“You might have a point, but still.” My nose in the air. Cheeks cherry.

He was right at my side, until all I felt was his body heat. Massive and looking edible, so close I could count the stubble hairs individually, a devious smile on his face. “My guess is, from the way you're churning your thighs together,” I immediately stopped, “is that you're turned on and needy.”

Noah's masculine scent reached across the tiny space separating us and strangled me with its erotic overtones. Even if he'd been working out, dripping sweat, soaked through his clothes, his scent would make me whimper.

It was so unfair, when I sweat I looked like a troll’s uglier sister.

His smell was serious whoa.

Lust, without an invitation, wrapped around my middle, vising my organs in its grasp. I couldn't look at Noah now not until I got myself under control, until I poured ice water on all these feelings swarming like bees in my abdomen. And that was my cue to go home, to decompress his orbit for a while, even I had my limits. Watching a movie that contained no less than five fucking scenes so far while I camped out on a bed with him eating ice cream right from the carton when he even let me lick his spoon was about enough sexual tension as a girl could handle.

I needed relief of the fingered variety.

Preferably in my bathtub with loud music and burning a kiwi candle...for romance.

“Don't start taunting me, sadist, keep that for your fuck-toys. Or I'll put on every Ryan Reynolds movie ever invented, you know he riles you up.”

“I can help you out with that.”

“With what, Ryan Reynolds? Magnanimous of you. If we ever bump into him, we can definitely tag team.” I chuckled, prepared to roll off his big comfortable soft bed. His hand pressed on my middle section stopped me.

“With your needy little clutching body.”

I think somewhere in the back of my head the neurons all misfired at once and caused my hearing to malfunction.

I blinked several times before my tongue engaged and all that came out was a squeak noise, my mouth opening and shutting at will. I’m suddenly smothered by the heaviness of my clothes over my burning body.

And my blood quickened.

A weird rush went through the room and I didn’t know what the fuck was happening.

Have I died?

Am I dreaming?

Did I suck on magic mushrooms and this is an hallucination?

This was not funny because I’m so turned on I can practically smell my lungs incinerating.

“Are you drunk?” I had to ask just for my own record because why else was he offering what he was offering unless he’d lost all sanity, though I knew the answer, unless he had liquor in his bottle of water he was stone cold sober.

“I know you're not that shocked, Sena.”

I’d always known Noah had an alpha-male personality, it was in every action and tone, but it wasn’t until he turned it on me that I truly accepted how he was.

He commanded with a tenor, he orchestrated with a raise of a brow.

It was power and substance with very little effort on his part, simply because that’s who he was.

The porn star moaning from the TV became unbearable to listen to while intestines twisted together I tried to move out from under his hand and when that didn't work I slid my hand across the bed to grab the remote hitting randomly switching to another channel only to come across more sex, Jesus, was everyone boning right now?

His question played on a loop.

Oh, my wet dreams come true.

As soon as I regained consciousness I'd treat his question with the seriousness in which he was looking at me and what in the world was his hand doing rubbing my belly like I was a bald cat?

I looked down, fingers inching under my shirt…

I couldn't help it; the shudder was instinctive sending tingles out and wide to all corners of my body. Each breath was a struggle, like my lungs were trying to breathe through thick soap suds.

He’d taken me by surprise, my brain was still trying to catch up.

My breasts ached for someone to trace them, my nipples hard making me wish I’d taken the time after my shower to wear a bra.

I caught his naughty boy smirk and his intense, almost otherworld eyes eclipsed by black pupils sharp and twinkling mirth.

Oh, why couldn’t he look at me just once like a horny guy?

The bastard was toying with me.

My eyes narrowed to pissed-off slits ready to thump that look off his face for even daring to play with me like that, it wasn’t fair.

Before I could kick him off his own bed he said. “I always wanted to know what a tight, wet pussy feels like, Sena.”

The way his lips formed tight wet and pussy my brain went into free fall to abort mission. Little convulsions tightened my abdomen muscles with such want it was almost as if I was having pre-game orgasms.

My tongue became thick in my mouth.

This conversation was just too much for my heart to take, even if his intent was to tease me, I was not made to match, I couldn’t, not while I was running on fumes of lust and holding onto logic as hard as my fingers could claw at it.

Not to mention the body that had been in starvation mode was being offered all you could eat à la mode apple pie.

If I hadn't been wet before then I sure as hell was now. My pussy began clenching like a fucking maniac with a strangle hold on my ovaries.

Oh, jeez. Don't do this to me.

Don't offer me chocolate cake right under my nose, don't let me smell it, only to pull it back right as I'm ready to sink my teeth into it.

My southern heart was ready to give up beating.

Jesus.

“Noah...” that's all I could manage to say. Though my eyes did a lot of talking scraping over his features, catching the way he watched his own hand sliding up and down my belly, almost touching the swell of bottom boob.

Noah took a hard inhale when he did skim my breast.

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit.

To catch everyone up to speed, I was on top of Noah's bed watching a movie with his hand currently under my shirt while he may or may not be asking me if he could ease my lusty ache and feel my tight, wet pussy.

I was dying.

This wheezing in my chest felt like death had come calling on me. My poor deprived lungs begged for any air.

It was so hot I could feel my skin, I’m aware of it covering my bones, everything in me heightened to the zenith degree.

“Are—are you sure you're not drunk or stoned? This is extremely ... unlike you.”

Hello, gay, remember. I had to keep saying it.

Gay men were not interested in pussies, wet or otherwise.

His eyes came up, he looked so serious. So gorgeous. My body liquefied into the thick, white comforter.

“I think you should let me, Sena,” he said like it was an everyday thing he was asking to get me off, to touch my sexual places. “I think you want me to.” He went on, petting me into an answer.

We had a dysfunctional, attached friendship, that was more than obvious as I lay stunned on his bed in my snug pink booty shorts with his eyes raking over me. We rarely went a day without seeing each other, not to mention the way he'd been cockblocking me with his reviews on my dates and I hadn't killed him for it because he on some level knew me better than anyone and saw those guys were not for me.

But this.

“Are you going to let me in these shorts? To find out what all the fuss is about, to feel a too-tight wet pussy with my fingers, Sena?”

Breathing became something old me would do.

This new 2.0 version was busy trying to reboot my bios to factory setting.

I'd be lying if I said the dirty talk, from Noah of all people, didn't do it for me. I knew everything about him, but this side of him was elusive and not for me, he gave this side to his lovers.

“Come on, kitten.” Hearing his smile color his voice, his head came down and brushed his cheek against mine, stubble tickled and aroused. Tempted me.

This wasn’t real. Was it?

“I see you want to say a thousand things to me. Why don't I hold your boob and you can say them?”

He was laughing at me, it sobered me quickly, and I pushed his hand away breaking the contact, though he didn't move an inch. I’m so torqued I wouldn’t last a second before my body blasted its pleasure. I just want to go home and find a release and forget this whole conversation.

Deep in my bones there was a vibration and I couldn't determine if it was pissed off or the urge to give in and call his bluff. How about that, joker, now you have to get me off, I wanted to hiss in his gorgeous face.

He couldn’t possibly be that cruel.

It was an obvious joke, right?

“Har, har.” I scowled, having to bring into question my sanity. “I'm horny, so what? Don't be a dick and taunt the heterosexual woman, you, sadist.”

“An offer to get you off is literally the opposite of sadistic. Now if I slipped my hand into those shorts and found your hard-little clit and worked you up until you were hysterically pumping your hips desperate for it and then I stopped. That would be sadistic.”

I died.

My lungs gave up the fight along with my heart and right there on Noah Fierro's bed I kicked the bucket.

He was a dirty talker.

My kryptonite. He’d discovered it by accident and wielded it like a sword.

“I've a mind to brain you.”

He laughed. “Fuck, when you get southern I don’t have good thoughts...”

Wrestling to make sense of where this chat had taken a 180-filthy turn, I was fixing to jump into my time machine before my craving took over and made me climb all over him, to push myself onto those fingers he was tempting me with and show I didn't joke well when it came to orgasms, no matter who was offering.

Could I? Could I? Could I?

Oh, my god, Sena, really? I was considering it wasn't I? Even though I knew he was teasing me mercifully, In the back of my head where all the horny lived I was thinking why not?

“Since when has vaginas fascinated you? You've never touched one in your life, not even experimentally in your teens, I can’t believe they’re a thought to you now.”

“I was born gay, I chased my first boy when I was six and forced him to kiss me.” I snickered picturing a smaller version of the man in front of me. I'd seen pictures and could guess he was a little tyrant even back then who derived it was his way or no way in the sandbox. “Tiny predator.”

“We have our skills,” he smirked, propped up on his elbow he touched the new teal colored part of my hair, flipping it over his fingers. “I want to know what it looks like up close, what it feels like in my hand. I want to experience it wet and sticky, letting go of all its pleasure down my fingers, to know how a woman trembles when she tightens. Call it curiosity, if you want a justification to say yes, kitten. You could say you’re doing me a favor, who better to ask than my best friend with her little needy pussy.”

He said pussy and my own clasped. Say it again.

“An experiment?” Suddenly I wanted to be drunk, or at least a little liquored up. This felt like a talk that needed shots. “You know it’s not like mining for diamonds, don’t you? A vagina is a very temperamental organ, you can’t just dive in and a woman comes.” A few ex-boyfriends thought this very thing.

“Do you assume I can't satisfy you?” A dark malevolent self-assured smile crossed his features just like the snake did right before it unlocked its jaw and swallowed a cow whole.

I’d seen him wear that same smile many times when he was dealing with people who underestimated him just because of his age or open sexuality, as if they assumed he wouldn’t go Michael Corleone on their asses. Spoiler; he really would.

“I know how to make people come.”

“Men. You know how to make men come. I hate to disappoint but my equipment if you got down there is not long and hard and you don't jerk on it like you're trying to strangle a boa constrictor.”

The edge of his mouth twitched, mirth entered his eyes. “Side note, please let me teach you how to give hand jobs, because the way you just described I'm now fearful for all your past lovers, do they still have cocks attached?”

Though I laughed, my concentration was growing strained and difficult, I was focused on that hand job lesson with my fingers gripping around his cock and Noah barking out instructions. A shudder went down my spine. I wanted fifty lessons at least.

“You realize you’re asking to touch … my vagjimjam, right?” Incredulity and skepticism laced my words. Within a second, Noah moved even closer, our sides touching, his hand resumed its exploration of my belly beneath my shirt.

Oh, what sweet hell this was? I was not strong enough to reject this offer, I was a chocolate addict being given the keys to Hersey’s and told to feed my face.

How could a woman resist that?

“Enough.” A fingertip rimmed my belly button and I found it oddly erotic, like he was practicing for something more carnal that he wanted to explore.

Two friends fooling around, it happened all the time.

Right.

Only one friend was not usually gay.

I tried to laugh, only it came out as a half moan-whimper combination because Noah was inching down towards my shorts. “You haven’t told me outright no, which leads me to believe you want me to make you feel good, kitten, only you can’t say the little word. So, close your eyes and let me touch you already.”

Oh, shit.

I was going to let him. Of course, I was, otherwise I would have gotten off this damn bed ten minutes ago, I would have laughed in his sexy face and told him to stop playing around and to put a better movie on and to bring more ice cream. I would have done a hundred things other than lie there like a sacrificial horny bitch just waiting … waiting for his first touch, wouldn’t I?

I wanted it so bad I could taste it in the back of my skull, I was practically shaking with how much I wanted to know what his hands on me felt like. Just once. Let me have it just once.

If this was all I could ever experience…. I wanted it.

“Okay, fine.” I huffed, lifting an arm to my forehead, stretching out my torso getting my feet comfortable, toes digging into the bed with anticipation. Shudders took over, goosebumps all over my skin. “But if my lady lips scare you, don’t cry to me, I tried to…. Oh shitttttt….” he’d already slid a hand into my shorts, was already cupping my pussy with his full hand.

Oh fuck, oh god. I was deceased.