Page 58 of Not Just Gal Pals

“Oh, really?” I let out an evil chuckle before leaning in and ensnaring Jenny’s earlobe between my teeth while I grabbed Jenny’s butt, pulling her even closer to me. “It’s driving you wild, is it?” I murmured near her ear.

Jenny moaned. “Oh my god, that’s so unfair.”

I slowly kissed down her neck, enjoying Jenny’s whimpers of pleasure.

Jenny pulled back, giggling, as I reached her collar bone. “Okay, okay! Why don’t we put this all in the oven and give me a chance to wash my hands before I accidentally smear raw chicken juice all over you in a fit of passion!”

“Mmmm, raw chicken juice! Very sexy,” I said, laughing as I reluctantly disentangled myself from Jenny. As much fun as I was having, Jenny’s suggestion was sensible.

“Now, where were we?” Jenny asked, stepping toward me after she’d washed her hands and I’d put the food in the oven.

“I think you were about to sexily rub raw chicken all over me.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.

Jenny pretended to glare at me, her lips twitching. “Hilarious. Actually, I have an idea. Come with me.”

Jenny grabbed my hand and led me toward the bedroom, my heart picking up pace with anticipation.

When we reached our destination, she beelined for the drawer in my side table, where I kept a stash of sex toys, and rummaged around.

“Aha! I thought I’d spotted this in here.” Jenny triumphantly pulled out the plastic handcuffs I’d received at Amanda’s bachelorette party and walked over to me, a wicked grin on her face. “Given you just took advantage of me while I was incapacitated, I think it’s only fair you get a taste of your own medicine…”

Jenny dangled the handcuffs in front of me, raising an eyebrow in question. I eyed them.

I liked being in control in most, if not all, facets of my life, including in the bedroom.

But, to my surprise, the idea of letting Jenny take control wasn’t a turn-off. In fact, the warm, tingling sensation between my legs suggested that maybe, just maybe, it could be a turn-on. Quite a turn-on. I trusted Jenny enough to be vulnerable with her, to try something out of my comfort zone. I’d never felt this way with Grace, despite the years we were together.

“Okay,” I said, hoping I didn’t live to regret it.

Jenny’s eyes and grin widened with delight. “Okay? Well, in that case, let’s get you naked.”

Five minutes later, we were both naked, and I was handcuffed to the headboard of the bed. It was a slightly uncomfortable but titillating experience. It was also strangely liberating. All I could do was lie back and enjoy Jenny’s kisses and caresses, which felt inexplicably more intense. All my senses were heightened as she made her way slowly down my body. The sensation of her breasts grazing my chest and then stomach, the warm wetness of her mouth as her tongue circled my nipples and then trailed kisses and licks toward my thighs.

What followed next were the most mind-blowing, extreme orgasms of my life. Orgasms, plural.

“That was incredible, babe,” I said once the final shudders had rocked through me. The “babe” had slipped out again, and this time I couldn’t care less.

Jenny wiped her mouth before clambering up to me and lying next to me.

“Anytime,” she said, grinning.

Jenny ran her fingers over the tattoo that wrapped around my upper arm, tracing its outline. The skin on the underside of my upper arm was ticklish, and her touch made me squirm.

Jenny pulled her fingers away. “Sorry, does that tickle? I’ve been meaning to ask about this. It’s an eagle, right? Is there a story behind it?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I’d been hoping Jenny wouldn’t ask this question, but I didn’t blame her. I’d do exactly the same in her position.

“Yeah, it’s a bald eagle.” I paused, wondering how much to share with her. I was still tied to the bed and naked after having just made myself extremely vulnerable, so why stop now? “In a total cliché move, I got it after my ex and I…” I swallowed, the pause lasting longer than intended.

“Broke up?” Jenny offered, eyes wide with sympathy. “Sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s totally fine.”

I took a deep breath. For some reason, I wanted to tell Jenny the story. “No, it’s okay. It’s complicated. I met Grace in the first week of my residency program in New York, and we became serious—very serious. Living together, talking about marriage, kids, about setting up a medical practice together, all that stuff. And then, one day, she didn’t come home for dinner. I got a call, a few hours later, from a woman.” I shut my eyes, remembering how panicked I’d felt getting that call. “Grace had been hit by a taxi in Williamsburg.”

Jenny’s eyes widened even more. “Oh my god. Shit. Was she...okay?”

“Yes, yes, she made a full recovery. And as far as I know, she’s happy and healthy. But when it happened, the doctors weren’t sure she would survive. I was beside myself with worry. Initially, I didn’t think much about the woman, Bec, who’d called me and who was by her bedside when I arrived. She said she was Grace’s friend. But as Grace’s prognosis improved and I had time to think, certain things just didn’t make sense. We’d been together for three years and knew each other’s friends well, but I’d never heard of Bec. She was apparently so close to Grace that she checked in on her way more frequently than our other friends. And I also started wondering what Grace had been doing in Williamsburg. She was supposed to be at the hospital in Park Slope, where she was doing her residency. And then, one day, when Bec was visiting, she mentioned she lived in Williamsburg.”

Jenny, who’d been frowning, groaned.