R olling over and finding the bed empty wasn’t the way Sylvie expected to start the morning. Not that she had a plan in mind. She hadn’t adjusted to the time change and her brain wasn’t operating at optimal levels. Her dreams had been so vivid. She couldn’t tell reality versus fiction and considered them highly inappropriate. She doubted those things took place in real life. The ending of the evening was foggy.

She looked down and saw Martin’s jersey, covering her body. It wasn’t a dream, but a living nightmare. She had actually tried to have sex with her best friend. More than tried, she’d thrown herself at him and he’d turned her down. She buried her head under the covers and didn’t want to come out until summer.

How could she have been so stupid? She vowed she would never drink again. Anything in excess was bad. Except sex. Was there really such a thing as too much sex? Not possible; but there was something called a dry spell, and it sucked big time. She touched between her legs, confirming her panties were damp. She’d been awake for all of thirty seconds, and she was already thinking about sex. To add insult to injury, she pictured doing it with Martin. Riding his big fat cock until she couldn’t walk. She needed to come so badly, but she moved her hand away.

Bad Sylvie.

He didn’t want to have sex with her. They were friends; nothing more. Yet she’d taken his kind gestures and flirtation to mean more. She cringed, thinking about how she'd asked him to undress her, and then bared her body when he told her no. He acted like a gentleman when she behaved like a whore. She blamed the dirty magazines, sexy clothing and way too much alcohol. That never should have happened. But, she wanted to be intimate with him. Her body still vibrated with pent-up desire.

The refusal stung more than she cared to admit. It hurt because this new attraction was real and not going away. Even as the new day dawned, she wanted him. Had he said yes, she would have slept with him and had no regrets. That was the problem. They weren’t in a relationship, but still she wanted him. She must have left her conscience in Montreal.

The pillow smelled like him as she buried her face in it. She lay there, trying to collect her wits and think about how to best approach him. Saying sorry I tried to seduce you seemed wrong because she wasn’t sorry. He had sent mixed messages. While she probably shouldn’t have gotten naked in front of him, he didn’t turn away. In fact, he cuddled with her afterwards. It could have been a dream, but at one point she awoke with Martin’s very obvious erection sandwiched between her legs.

The attraction wasn’t one sided, but what could she do about it? Hiding in bed wouldn’t provide the answer. The other question warring inside her was should she do something about it. She shook her head and yelled into the pillow. “Give me strength!”

Sylvie trudged to the bathroom. Last night’s makeup had smeared, but she didn’t look that bad considering. Whatever pills Martin had given her had worked because she didn’t feel bad either; slightly woozy, but no massive hangover. She tied her long hair back in a braid, removed the fake eyelashes and washed her face before braving the fallout of her antics.

“Good morning,” she said, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Martin had his back to her as he flipped what smelled like bacon over the stove.

“You sleep well?”

“Like the dead actually.” She watched him cook and every dirty fantasy she'd ever had raced through her mind. Any hope she had that the attraction would disappear vanished. Damn. He looked delectable, wearing loose sweats and a t-shirt.

“That explains why you didn’t push me away. You’ve told me a million times how you hate cuddling, but we snuggled all night,” he teased, switching off the burner before facing her. He looked amazing, even with the bedhead. “I slept great; best sleep in a long time, thanks to you.”

“With the amount of alcohol in me, a nuclear bomb wouldn’t have woken me. Don’t get used to the cuddles; I don’t like getting too hot.” She might consider making an exception for him. Especially, if he wanted to drop on the floor and take her right there.

“Might not be the heat; ever think you just didn’t like having Renny pressed against you.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “No. Why would you say that?”

He reached into the cabinet and grabbed two plates. “Never mind, I’m not trying to offend you. You’re fun to cuddle with is all.”

“Oh. Thanks.” That was a nice thing to say. “So, about last night… We should talk about my behavior. More like I should grovel at your feet for you to forgive me.”

His smile turned from sincere to ominous. “There’s nothing to discuss. You were drunk and acted as anyone else given your state. There’s nothing to forgive.”

“I… The fact that I got naked and propositioned you,” she whispered. “Um… that doesn’t bother you?”

“You didn’t get fully naked. There’s no way I’d take advantage of someone who’s drunk. So, we’re cool.” He pulled a pan out of the oven, dished the omelets onto the plates and added slices of bacon to each.

She didn’t want to be cool she realized. “What if you weren’t taking advantage of me? Maybe I wanted you to touch me.” She knotted her hands, waiting for him to respond.

“Sylvie, you told me you’re lonely. It was obvious, you didn’t really want me, and that any hot-blooded man would have done.” He wasn’t wrong about her being lonely, but he was dead wrong about thinking any man would do.

“Don’t you ever get lonely? I mean it’s been a few years since Marianne, and you have dated no one. Aren’t you ready to move on?” She wasn’t suggesting he date her, and she hoped it didn’t come across that way.

“Always worried about my heart when you shouldn’t be; I’ve got hockey, and that’s all I need. Marianne was a prime example of the distractions I don’t need in my life.”

The same debate they’d been fighting for years. “Not all women are distractions. She’s not the reason you got traded. Stop blaming her.” In his mind, it was his ex’s fault he no longer played for the Canadians. “It turned out good for your career.”

“Sure, now. But my game fell apart at the same time as my relationship. I doubt that’s a coincidence. She wouldn’t come here unless she had a ring on her finger. Best thing I ever did was walk away from her and leave love in the dust.”

“You don’t mean that.” Even though love sucked, she still wouldn’t trade a minute of her happy memories.

“I do. She wasn’t the one for me because she didn’t get that hockey is my life. She always made me feel bad about not spending enough time with her. Marianne’s not too heartbroken. Last I heard, she’d gotten married and has a baby on the way.” His jaw snapped as he said the last bit.

“Seems to me like you’re not over her. You know you sound jealous, right?” Her volume increased as she got worked up over an old conversation. He pushed a plate of food in front of her. It looked good.

“Hell no. I don’t want to be married or have babies with her. Ever. I’m perfectly happy with my life. I fuck when I want and nothing gets in my way.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

He handed her a fork. “Believe what you want, but it’s the truth. You don’t need love to be happy.”

“So, you think I need a distraction to move on and get over my belief that love conquers all?”

“Maybe,” he said, and his tone sent her pulse racing. “After we eat, I’ve got the perfect distraction in mind.”

She’d never eaten so quickly. The bacon and eggs were washed down with a cup of coffee. Martin switched subjects and talked about his upcoming game against the Wild. He had to check in with one of the trainers, and then he’d be home briefly before his flight out later that afternoon. She welcomed the change in topics, but she eagerly anticipated what he had in mind to distract her from love. Rolling around in his bed together naked topped her list.

After they finished their meal, he tried to clean, but she stopped him. She had all day to do the dishes. He relented, but she could tell he itched to put things in their rightful places.

“Time for distractions.” She rubbed her hands together.

When he pulled out another deck of cards, her heart sank. She’d thought perhaps… it didn’t matter because they were better off as friends. Considering what she’d done the night before, there had been no awkwardness between them. It showed her the strength of their friendship.

“Place your bet,” he said, shuffling the cards.

“Loser wears a clown wig for the entire day. I saw one in your closet.”

He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “Good thing I play to win, because there’s no way I can wear that on the ice.”

She laughed. “You will look mighty silly. But I don’t lose twice in a row.”

He raised his eyebrows and dealt the cards. Turned out she was a two-time loser. He pulled the rainbow colored frizzy haired wig from the closet and placed it on her head.

“Thanks. Are you sure we can’t do best two out of three?”

“Might make me a twisted guy, but I think you look sexy in that. Remember, you can’t take it off all day and I want to see pictures of you wearing it around the city.”

Her cheeks heated at the compliment even though she felt foolish. “There is no way that’s happening. I’m not leaving your condo in this thing,” she said, standing and planting her hands on her hips.

He gave her a hug and put on his jacket. “Yes, you will because I said so. Winner decides and the loser has to do it; it’s not optional.”

“Remember that retribution is a bitch.”

“I don’t know her and don’t plan to meet this retribution person any time soon.” He pulled out his phone and took a picture of her standing there frowning at him. “Later, ma belle.”

His beauty. He’d never called her that before. Another change. She’d be mad at him for making her go out if it wasn’t so damn funny. The man was too clever for his own good.

She cranked the tunes and cleaned up the breakfast dishes and washed the table. Figuring Martin wouldn’t be back for a while, she tidied the condo. Since the place was spotless, it took no time at all.

Her bag sat on the floor in his bedroom and she pulled out her toiletries bag. As she did, the bag containing her sex toys fell out. She sat down on the bed and debated what to do. It would be wrong to masturbate on his bed. She pushed the urge aside and went to the washroom to brush her teeth. The shower curtain was open and images of Martin naked flooded back to her. His cock was long and thick and she remembered how hot it felt between her legs. The desire to touch herself grew stronger by the second.

Once she'd finished in the bathroom, she jumped onto his bed and snapped a picture of herself. She sent it to him with the caption: Clowning around. In this picture she smiled at least. Her eyes landed on the little black bag. She put the phone down and debated whether it was a good idea. She caved, reaching for her toys.

The vibrator called her name. When she ran her hand over her panties, she found them soaked. She should have done this before she boarded the plane and maybe this would have helped avoid all the sexual confusion. As she pulled the egg from its case. His scent surrounded her. The room, the sheets and the jersey carried his rugged erotic fragrance.

This was a bad idea, but she couldn’t stop herself. She still wore the red lace panties, garter belt and stockings under the long jersey. She turned on the vibrator and rubbed small circles over her clit. It had been way too long since she’d done this. The music played in the background, masking her whimpers of pleasure. A quick release and she’d be over her crush. The soft buzzing made her smile as she pressed the tiny device harder against her mound.

“Oh… yes.” But it wasn’t enough. Pushing her panties aside, she ran her fingers through her wet folds and let vibrations bring her closer to climax.

Sylvie cupped her breast and pinched her nipple, but she needed more. Closing her eyes, she pictured Martin there with her. His hand squeezing her breast. His fingers slipping inside her as she moved her hips to greet him.

“I’m so close.” His scent got strong as her pace increased. She worked the vibrator over her clit until she was writhing from pleasure. “Right… There Mmm!” She came loudly, with his name on the tip of her tongue. It took a moment for her breathing to recover.

She switched off the vibrator and chuckled. When she’d been packing, she’d almost considered leaving her toys behind in storage. Boy, was she glad she’d brought them. She sat up and looked into the hall. She couldn’t remember if she’d closed the door or not. That was something she’d need to start doing. As she walked down the hall to wash up, she spotted Martin in the living room.

He was on his knees scrubbing the coffee table. His travel bag was by the door. She swallowed hard, thinking he might have seen her, but surely, he wouldn’t have gone into the bedroom. She hoped not and played it cool.

“Hi, when did you get home?” She twisted her fingers, willing him to have just walked through the doors. Please, please, please she begged the heavens, let him not have seen her masturbating in his bed, wearing a clown wig and his hockey jersey.

“A little while ago,” he said, keeping his eyes down and cleaning the same spot with rapid motions.

There’s no way he would avoid eye contact unless he'd seen her. “The music’s too loud, and I didn’t hear you. I sent you a picture as per your instructions,” she smiled to hide her embarrassment, not that he looked at her.

He groaned like he was in pain. “I got it. It’s my new screen saver.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled. There was an awkwardness that hadn’t been there before and she didn’t like it. “Did you… Um, I accidentally left the bedroom door—”

Martin shuffled to his feet. “I have to leave early, there’s snow coming and they want us at the airport earlier.” He walked to the kitchen and rinsed off the rag. He never once looked at her. After adding the rag to the laundry hamper, he gripped the handle on his bag until his knuckles turned white.

“That’s odd; the forecast wasn’t calling for snow when I checked. Are you lying? We never lie to each other.” She was mortified that he was so disgusted by her actions he’d rather flee than face her.

His eye moved to the door as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. “You’re right. But—”

“Merde. I should go.” She turned and took two steps down the hall before he gripped her arm, spinning her back around. Her eyes shot to his, and they were the greenest she’d ever seen them. The air around them felt supercharged with sexual energy. Her pulse accelerated as they stared at each other.

“Don’t go. I want you… to stay.” His eyes dropped to her lips. She wanted him to kiss her. They stood so close, his breath tickled her cheeks. “I’m sorry I lied, but… I have to go.” He let go of her arm and walked back to the door.

“Martin,” she whispered, rubbing the spot where his hand had been.

“Take more pictures and send them to me. Be careful out there. Stay in populated areas.”

“Why?”

“There’s been an increase in crime lately. People going missing. Nothing to worry about, but it’s good to keep your eyes open and be aware of your surroundings. I’ll see you tomorrow after the game.” He opened the door and glanced at her over his shoulder.

This was a mess but she wouldn’t leave. She wasn’t the type of person to walk away from what she wanted. Even if she shouldn’t want this. “I’ll be here.”

He winked, and the tension fled. “You’re giving me a reason to rush home.”