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Ben
Disorientated and surroundedby the dim light of a lamp somewhere, the first thing I register is Lainey sprawled on top of me. One of her legs is tucked between mine and her head is resting on my chest. Mentally, I run through what happened last night, trying to work out how we ended up in this position. I remember leaving the races, arriving at Cass’s, and Lainey falling asleep with her feet in my lap. I don’t remember much beyond that.
And this is why I don’t drink wine. Aside from the fact I prefer beer, wine makes me tired enough to pass out. The last thing I remember is hearing Cass and Duncan whisper-laughing as my back started sliding sideways on the couch. Considering the fact Lainey is now practically lying on top of me, I can only assume I must have slid all the way down and fallen asleep beside her. And instead of waking Lainey and me, and sending us home like they should have, Cass and Duncan have turned off the television and the overhead lights and left us alone.
Together.
In the near-dark.
The longer I’m awake, the more attention I’m paying to the way Lainey’s body is pressed against mine in all the right places. The moment I try to move, she mutters something and snuggles in closer. The movement causes my heart to pound harder and blood to rush to my dick.
“Lainey,” I whisper harshly, hoping to wake her up before I get even harder and she gets the wrong idea.
Or the right one.
It’s been seven days since I last had sex. Not exactly the drought Lainey is experiencing, admittedly, but seven days is a long time for me. I’d planned to hook up with Angie, but that was a bust and now I’m a horny bastard. Add to that the fact that for the past few months I’ve imagined more than once what Lainey would feel like, look like, sound like, while my cock is buried inside her, and my control feels as though it’s slipping away piece by precious piece.
And Lainey still isn’t moving.
“Lainey,” I say more loudly. “Wake up.”
She sighs softly and peacefully, as though she’s never been happier. Clearly, she’s content with me as her bed, but this bed is getting harder and harder with every second that passes. I put a hand on her hip to shake her awake, but her top has ridden up and I’m distracted by the feel of her warm skin under my fingertips. Lainey practically purrs and shivers as I trace patterns on her skin.
“Mmm,” she murmurs, clearly liking what I’m doing.
My fingers react to the needful quality of her voice and before I know it, they’re skimming over her ribcage. The moment my thumb touches the side of her breast, the throbbing in my cock intensifies and I have to resist the urge to thrust up. And the breath I’ve unconsciously been holding leaves my lungs as something resembling a moan.
This gets her attention. She opens her eyes, lifts her head, and looks at me, appearing just as disorientated as I was when I woke up, and I’m caught with my hand in the metaphorical cookie-jar. Up Lainey’s top.
I’ve never felt up a friend while they slept before. This is low, even for me.
“Ben?” she asks in a sleepy, sex filled voice that makes everything worse.
I move my hand back down to her hip, then take it off her completely so I don’t keep stroking her there.
“We fell asleep on the couch,” I say gruffly.
“I went to sleep with my feet in your lap,” she whispers. “We weren’t... we weren’t like this.”
We’d both fallen asleep and changed our positions to get more comfortable, but how we ended up like this is hardly the point. She needs to get off me.
“I need you to move now or you’ll be riding my lap.”
I watch the emotions chase each other across her face, shock and confusion, followed by awareness as she finally registers the fact I’m hard as a rock underneath her, and then, the most damning emotion of them all, excitement. Her green eyes were already wide and dark because of the dim lighting in the room, but now they’re massive. Her breath is coming out much faster, her face is flushed, and when she runs that pink tongue over her full bottom lip and stares at my mouth, I know exactly what she’s thinking.
“Lainey,” I warn.
“What?” she whispers.
The desire and dark intent in her eyes swallows me up. I know she’s horny; it’s been a while since she last got laid and she’s suffering for it, but I can’t sleep with her. We’re friends, and while friends help each other out, I don’t see a woman after I’ve fucked her. Lainey knows this. Surely, she’s not willing to mess with our friendship—a friendship she convinced me we needed—all for a quick screw on Cass’s couch.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m not allowed to think about it when you’re the one who suggested it?”
“I didn’t suggest it.”
“Yes you did. I thought I dreamt it, but you were... you were touching me, weren’t you?”
