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I release a long breath but nod after a few moments to think about it. She’s right. By jumping her the first chance I get, it sends the message that all I want from her is sex, but that’s not the case. Maintaining our friendship is just as important, if not more so, than exploring our sexual chemistry.
“Sure,” I tell her, “Make yourself comfortable while I get it.”
As she makes her way towards my living room, I can’t help but quietly admire the way her dress hugs her figure, managing to look both elegant and sexy. Suppressing a sigh, I make a mental note to focus on the “benefits” part in our agreement rather than getting distracted by her beauty.
In the kitchen, I rummage through my wine rack looking for a bottle that has likely been gathering dust. I’m not usually a wine drinker, but I know I have a few bottles I save for company. Finally, I find a bottle of Malbec that should do the trick.
As I pop open the bottle and start to pour it into two glasses, I hear the faint melody of Chopin’s Nocturnes coming from the living room. Chloe must’ve found my vinyl collection.
“Choplin, huh? What are you, like, seventy?”
I laugh and set the wine glasses on the coffee table. “Okay, fine. I’m a bit of a nerd for having such an extensive classical music collection.”
She shrugs, a playful glint in her eye. “I prefer something a bit more modern. Got any rock or pop?”
“I might have a few records that fit the bill.” I put on a Queen album, and the opening chords of “Bohemian Rhapsody” fill the room. Chloe sways to the music, and the tension from earlier melts away before my eyes.
“Now this is more like it,” she says while taking a sip of wine.
Feeling a sense of amusement, I watch her dance. “So, rule number one: wine and music before I see you naked.”
She laughs, a genuine, melodic sound that makes my heart skip a beat. “Exactly. Build up to it, Parker. Build up to it.”
When the song is over and she’s done dancing, I lift my glass in the air. “Cheers.”
She clinks her glass against mine with a soft “cheers” in return before taking a small sip of the wine.
“This feels…nice,” she says, gesturing vaguely around her as if encapsulating everything: our friendship, our impending “benefits,” and this quiet evening filled with Queen and Malbec.
“It does,” I agree, and I’m not lying. It does feel nice. Warm. Comfortable. It’s a little surprising, given the reason we’re here.
I watch her as she sips her wine and sways to the next song. She’s so gorgeous, she makes my mouth water. I like the way she wears her hair now. Straight and shoulder-length, with straight bangs that come to a stop just above her brows. Her body is curvy in all the right places, and I can’t help but let my eyes wander to her ass, which looks immaculate in her body-hugging dress.
I’m getting turned on just looking at her. Heat bubbles up inside me, and my dick starts twitching in my pants.
As I look at Chloe, she seems to sense my change in mood.
“Parker?” she asks, looking at me with those warm brown eyes of hers.
I manage a smile and shake off my thoughts. “Yes?”
“We can still back out of this,” she says in an almost whisper. “If-if it’s too complicated, I mean.”
Wouldn’t that be the easier decision? We could laugh about it tomorrow, chalk it up to a momentary lapse in judgment, and go back to being just friends. We wouldn’t have to worry about damaging our relationship with Lauren or with one another.
But I look at her again. At the nervous but eager expression on her face as she waits for my answer. At the way her chest rises and falls with her deepening breaths.
There’s no way in hell I’m walking away from her now.
“No,” I say firmly. Setting my glass of wine down, I close the distance between us and take her glass from her as well. Then, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her flush against my body. “I do not want to back out of this.”
Before she can respond, I lower my head and capture her lips with mine in a searing kiss.
My mind is roaring with a rush of blood as our lips meet. It’s electric and hot, full of pent-up tension and desire. She gasps against my mouth, and I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, my tongue tangling with hers. I can taste the Malbec on her lips, sweet and woody, but it fades into the background as I focus on her and on this moment.
Her hands move up to grip my shoulders, then slide slowly into my hair, holding me in place as if afraid I’ll change my mind. I groan into her mouth, encouraged by her response. My hands roam down to the small of her back, pressing her closer, if that’s even possible.
We part briefly for breath before diving right back in again. It’s intoxicating, the heat between us and the way she’s melting against me.
