Friend Is a Four Letter Word by Steph Campbell Page B

woman to think that she has to do anything for my sake. I want her. But I want to be the one making her feel good. I want to see that beautiful body buck under me, writhing with pleasure she hasn’t known before.
    “Not a chance. Tonight is all about you, doll.” I lower her back down onto the blanket and flick the buttons of her jean shorts open, running my palm flat along her stomach. I nuzzle my face into her skin. “Good God, woman, you may kill me.”
    I push her shorts and bikini bottoms down and she raises her hips to help. The movement, her hips rising up to meet me makes my dick throb. I slip two fingers inside of her. She’s so damn slick and hot and I can’t help but smile.
    “Ready for me huh, doll?” I ask.
    Shayna smirks and says, “That’s what you do for friends, right?”
    “Ohhh,” I laugh. “You’ve got jokes? Now I’m not only going to make you wait, I’m going to make you beg.”

 
     
     
    I awake to Carter kissing my shoulder and down the length of my arm. We’re sandy and my back aches like I’ve aged thirty years over night, but it doesn’t matter. It’s the first time I’ve ever woken up in someone’s arms—ever. I’ve always managed to slip out before the guy wakes up, or vice versa. I don’t care how sore I am, or how many times I’ll have to wash my hair to get the grit out, every second of that is worth this moment. This happiness. This feeling of security.
    “We should get going,” he says. The softness of his tone goes to war against the feeling of disappointment in me at the thought of having to leave.
    “Already? I thought we were going to stay two nights?”
    “I know, I want to,” he says. He rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “But I’ve got to get back. We can come back another time. I promise.”
    “Carter,” I say, rolling over to face him. “Is something wrong?”
    He picks up my wrist and kisses the pulse point. “The only thing that’s wrong is that you’re about to put clothes on and that—that definitely feels wrong.”
    He traces a line down my chest, between my breasts and down my stomach. I curl against his warm body, burying my face. “I don’t have to. We can stay.” I can feel him hard against my hip.
    “I want to, good God I want to, but I’ve got a couple of things to do. We need to get on the road.”
    I lock eyes and smile at him, just as I slip my hand under the blanket and decide to see just how quickly we have to get on the road.
    “I’ve got a couple of things to do, too.” I say.
     

     
    I was only successful in stalling Carter. We left an hour later than he wanted, but we still left. I try not to pout that we didn’t get to surf or enjoy each other more, but Carter seemed determined to get home for some reason.
    “I’m going to get the bags in,” Carter says as well pull up the apartment building. He quickly checks his watch. “Then I’m going to head out.”
    “Okay,” I say. I shove my hands in between my knees. I don’t know what to say, or to feel right now. Last night—last night was all new for me. I opened up in ways I never thought possible, I had sex with this gorgeous man, then fell asleep in his arms with the waves crashing and the fire dwindling. How much more perfect could an evening get? Except it must not have been that perfect. Something must have gone wrong, I must have said something—done something because since the moment I opened my eyes this morning, things have felt like they’re moving in reverse.
    I want to ask him where he’s going, but I don’t feel like I have the right to if he isn’t volunteering anything. Maybe I pushed too hard last night. He sure seemed willing, though. More than willing. He did things to me—made me feeling things that I never thought came from sex.
    “I’ll be home in time to grab something for dinner if you want,” he says. He rounds the car and then opens my door for me. “And this’ll give you a chance to relax, take a shower, whatever. I