Modern Girl's Guide to Friends With Benefits (22 page)

She cocked an eyebrow, biting her still damp bottom lip, and that was it. Hell, he wasn't a saint.

He growled under his breath and backed her against the closed door. He wasn't about to fuck her here, but if she wanted a little taste of danger, who was he to deny her? Peter laced his fingers through her hair, causing the carefully arranged tresses to tumble loose around her face, and grabbed her jaw with the other hand.

The plan was just to give her a taste. But as he stared down at her in the flashing lights, her cheeks rosy from the cold, hair wild in the wind, she shot him a beguiling smile, and it was more than he could handle. He leaned in and kissed her, losing what little control he had left. The kiss was all tongue and teeth. Raw and filled with need.

Instead of being outraged at his rough treatment, she pulled him tighter, her fingernails digging into his back, and rocked her hips up to meet his, pressing against his erection. Whatever game they had been playing fell away, as did the world around them. All he could focus on was her and those hot lips as his hand moved lower to her breasts. With a little maneuvering, he was able to push the top of her dress down. He took the eager peak into his mouth, biting the nipple, teasing it with his tongue. Her head tilted back, shoving her chest out, and she held him in place.

He was on the verge of doing something incredibly stupid when headlights flooded the alley. Peter pushed Meg behind him and swore under his breath, finally remembering where they were.
What the fuck was I thinking?
He pulled his jacket closed over his unbuttoned shirt and moved to shield Megan from the glaring light.

"I'm sorry it took so long, Mr. Bradley," the driver said, hopping out of the car. Peter was pretty sure he'd gotten an eyeful, but the guy seemed to be smart enough to ignore the whole incident. He simply moved to the rear of the car and opened the door for them.

Peter turned back to Megan. He expected some expression of horror at being caught in such a compromising position. But she just breezed past him to the waiting limo, calm and collected, as if they hadn't just been on the verge of fucking. But despite her nonchalant manner, she couldn't hide the fact that she looked thoroughly debauched.

Laughing, Peter got into the car behind her. That woman was going to be the death of him, but at least he'd die smiling.

Megan somehow managed to behave herself on the drive to Peter's apartment, but she was a bundle of nerves. Maybe it was the excitement from the alley, or the realization of what he was suggesting was finally sinking in. She sat back and watched the city pass by. Her heart was still racing wildly by the time they stepped into the elevator, even though they hadn't touched one another since the alley.

Were they really going do this?
A relationship.
The word sent chills down her spine, and not in the sexy way. What the hell did she even know about being in a relationship? Her only attempt at anything long-term ended horribly years ago. Funny enough, the night Aaron finally broke it off with her was the first time she'd ever kissed Peter. Really kissed him. There may have been drinks involved, and tears. She had always thought it was a pity kiss. Now she wasn't so sure. They never spoke of that night, but she'd always wondered what would have happened if they had let it go further than a kiss.

And here she was now, headed up to Peter's apartment. A commitment-phobe and a serial playboy. The two of them made quite the pair.

After he had unlocked the door, Megan stepped around him. "I'm going to change into something more comfortable. Why don't you grab the wine and meet me in the bedroom?"

"I don't think so," Peter said, catching her around the waist and pulling her back into his chest. He nipped at her ear, teasing the tender flesh between his teeth. "I think we have some unfinished business."

Megan tried to wiggle free from him, but he pulled her tighter. "Peter, I have to get this off if you want to do anything else tonight. If you haven't noticed, this dress is practically painted on."

"I'm pretty handy when it comes to getting you out of your clothes." He started kissing down her neck. "Besides, I've wanted to take this thing off you since the second I saw you in the ballroom."

The stupid guy just wasn't taking the hint. It had taken a miracle to get her into this dress, not to mention the gymnastics it took to squeeze into the Spanx. There was no way either of the garments was coming off without a fight. Peter's grip loosened, and Megan slipped out of his arms.

"It will just take a minute and I'd really like a glass of wine," she shouted over her shoulder as she beelined for the bedroom. Peter, slightly stunned by the loss of his plaything, stood there frozen before he realized what she was doing and gave chase. Squealing with laughter, she kicked off her shoes and ran for the bedroom door. She managed to beat him by just a few seconds and slammed the door behind her. She just needed a few minutes to change into a t-shirt, or maybe one of his button-ups. Wasn't that one of the things men always fantasized about? She wondered how Peter felt about costumes. Role-playing? These were definitely things to keep in mind.

"Meg, that wasn't fair," he pouted on the other side of the door. "I was distracted."

"All's fair in love and fashion. I'll be out in a sec," she said, trying to inch the fabric down her waist. She'd just peeled the dress off, ass in the air, when she heard the door open. Megan shot up, cursing Peter under her breath. She should have locked the damn thing. It wasn't the most embarrassing situation he'd ever caught her in, but now they were lovers. And a woman had to keep some of her secrets.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Peter asked, choking back a laugh. "It looks like one of those outfits guys with handlebar mustaches would wear for bare-knuckle fisticuffs."

Megan snatched the scrap of a dress off the floor and tossed it at him. "I told you the dress was skin-tight," she huffed and began peeling the Spanx down her body. "Even a woman as spectacular as I am still needs a little help from time to time. If you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly perfect."

So much for a sexy seduction. Megan collapsed onto the bed, mostly naked and out of breath, wishing the mattress would swallow her. There was no way this was going to work. She wasn't anything like the flawless debutantes and models he preferred. She sure hoped he liked real and awkward because that's about all she had to give. It was just a matter of time before the newness of their situation wore off and he realized that.

"Meg, you're beautiful." Peter grabbed the garment after she managed to inch it past her ass, and yanked it the rest of the way off. "And these things are fucking awful. Don't ever wear them again."

"I'd really like that drink now," she said, trying to get up from the bed, but Peter stood at the end of the bed, blocking her.

"Hold still," he said, kneeling down before her. "I meant what I said. You're incredibly sexy just the way you are." He worked his hand up her leg, his strong fingers rough against the tender flesh inside her thigh. He soothed the redness left behind from the compression-wear with tender kisses, murmuring endearments under his breath as he went. "Every curve. Every flaw. Everything I want. Everything I need. Perfection."

The cool air of the bedroom chilled Megan's hot, aching flesh. All the while, Peter's warm breath set her skin ablaze anew. His slow ministrations were driving her crazy, but she wasn't about to move for fear he'd stop. She fisted the comforter as his mouth closed on her sex, sucking and sliding his nimble tongue over the slick inner surface until she bucked off the bed. As his tongue worked her clit, Megan closed her eyes as she rode the waves of sensation.

Peter slid a finger inside her throbbing pussy, and then another, curling and teasing her inner walls until she cried out. She grabbed his hair, holding him in place, afraid he might stop. But she didn't need to worry—he continued to thrust deeper, hitting just the right spot, pushing her closer and closer. And just when she was ready to shatter, Peter sucked hard on her clit, sending her toppling over the edge.

"Peter," she gasped as she broke apart. He continued stroking the engorged flesh, his fingers teasing her, prolonging her orgasm. Too quickly, he pulled away and undressed. Peter crawled up beside her and reached over to the nightstand.

"Fuck. I need to get a condom from the other room." He lowered his head and kissed her. "I'll be back."

Still coming down from her orgasm, she mourned the loss of contact. "Don't leave," she said, reaching out to stop him.

"It'll just take a sec, sweetheart."

"Please. You don't have to." She still held onto his arm, urging him back. It was irrational, probably hormonal, but she didn't want him to leave, even for a second. "I have birth control covered. If you want this to be exclusive, we don't have to…" She pulled him back to her. "I don't want you to go."

Peter paused and looked down at her, a question in his eyes. "Meg, are you sure? That's a big step."

She sat up and hooked her legs around his waist, pulling him against her. "I'm sure. I'm more than sure. Unless you don't trust me."

Peter eased her back down to the bed and kissed her hard. "I trust you more than anyone I've ever known. I just don't want—"

Megan pressed her lips against his, cutting off his words. She didn't want a heart-to-heart right now. She needed him inside her. Reaching between them, she guided him into her body. Peter didn't need much more encouragement and began moving, slowly at first. But Megan wasn't in the mood for slow and tender. She arched her back to take him even deeper, rocking to meet his movements.

"God, you're perfect," he murmured against her lips. He managed to make her feel loved and cherished, despite their yet to be determined status. She could almost believe this was going to work. That he really did love her.

Quickly, as if they'd been lovers for years, they fell into a matching rhythm that led right back up to the precipice. He kissed her neck and touched her body, driving her utterly mad with desire. Just as she shattered into a million pieces for the second time that night, Peter buried his face against the hollow of her neck and toppled over the edge with her.

They lay next to each other, silent in the low-lit room, both breathless. It didn't take long until the cool night air began to chill her overheated body. Megan wiggled free, pulled the crumpled comforter over their naked bodies, and snuggled into the hollow of Peter's arms. They clung to each other in mutual bliss. Tomorrow would bring decisions and complications, but tonight…tonight she was his.

"Happy New Year, Peter," she whispered, before drifting to sleep in his arms.

What seemed like only seconds later, a loud popping sound startled her out of sleep.

Megan opened one eye and found the room bathed in bright flashing colors. "Is the house under attack?"

"Shhh," Peter whispered against her hair. "It's just the fireworks over the lake."

Megan buried her face into his chest and kissed his bare skin. "Your New Year's kiss," she said, and snuggled deeper into his arms, listening to the calm of his heartbeat. There was no place she'd rather be. The steady rhythm was reassuring. The pit of loneliness she always seemed to carry melted away, leaving in its wake a need that only Peter could fill.

Just as she started to drift back into a contented sleep, Peter kissed the top of her head. "Happy New Year, sweetheart. I'm sorry I ruined the party tonight. We should have had this talk right after Christmas. But I'm glad it's over. You mean far too much to me for this to be a casual thing."

Megan may have managed a murmur of acknowledgment, but that's about all she could muster. The ups and downs of the night had taken a lot out of her, and she could barely keep her eyes open.

"Meg?" he whispered into her hair. When she didn't answer, Peter kissed the top of her head and pulled her close. "We'll talk again in the morning. But I need to get this off my chest." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm in love with you. It may have taken me fifteen years to realize it, but I do. Hell, I've always been a little in love with you. Maybe that's why I've never found someone to settle down with. Because it's always been you. I love you, Megan."

She should have said something, returned his declaration of love, but Megan couldn't say the words. She did love him. She had since that fateful day he'd come to the rescue of an awkward fifteen-year-old girl. She'd shown her love for him through loyalty and friendship throughout the years. Knowing that he'd felt the same way was encouraging, but she still wasn't ready to hand him her heart completely. At least not yet.