Modern Girl's Guide to Friends With Benefits (24 page)

"That may be true," Peter said. "But you didn't have to shove his girlfriend into the fountain."

"Then she shouldn't have called me a bitch," Meg said without hesitation. "I paid to replace her cell phone and camera, and they dropped all the charges."

"And the Field Museum?" Patrick asked, hanging on her every word. "What happened there?

"It was stupid. That security guy at the museum didn't have a sense of humor at all." Meg looked up at Peter and cracked a huge smile. "You have to admit that the photo you took was pretty epic."

"I wouldn't have taken that photo if I'd known we'd get in trouble. You told me you knew someone at the museum and had permission to be in that exhibit," Peter reminded her.

"Well, Mark did work at the information desk. And if I recall, I didn't say we had permission. I said Mark thought the photo would be hilarious, and I was right. I still have it framed on my wall."

"It's always something," he said and kissed her on the top of the head.

"Oh, my God. This is better than even Connor said. You guys are perfect." Patrick shot Megan a wink and gestured to the living room. "Please, make yourselves at home. I still have a few things left to finish up in the kitchen. Can I get you something to drink?"

"You don't have to wait on us." Megan grabbed Peter and pulled him over to the sofa. Benny hopped up next to them and collapsed into a puddle of fur at her side. She absently scratched behind his ear while kicking off her boots. "Don't worry about us. If we need something, I can get it. I'm crashing your quiet day at home, remember?"

"Nonsense. You're our guests," Connor said. "I'll grab some drinks and then we can fire up Netflix." Connor and Patrick disappeared into the kitchen, leaving them alone.

"What do you mean we're crashing?" Peter asked, looking around the apartment again. There weren't decorations, finger foods, or any other sign that Patrick and Connor were expecting any other guests. "I thought you were bringing me to a New Year's party."

"I said we were hanging out," she said with a shrug. "You know I'm not much of a party person. I thought this would be a nice test for us."

A test?
What the hell did she mean by that? If things didn't go well here was she going to call it quits? He didn't realize that when she agreed to a relationship, he'd have to audition for the role of boyfriend. Peter was about to ask her to explain when Connor came back carrying a pitcher.

"Every new year should start with a margarita," he announced, setting down the tray.

"Patrick makes the best margaritas," Meg said, handing him a glass. She poured another, took a big sip, and sighed. "And the best thing is, we don't have to worry about drinking too much. Now that I have proper shoes, we can walk."

He accepted the drink and tried not to let her words ruin his mood. Maybe she was right in a way. An afternoon spent in the company of people who didn't know them as
Peter and Megan, best friends
was just what they needed. It was an opportunity be with each other without the added pressure of explaining how and why things had changed. After a margarita and listening to Connor and Patrick argue over movies for ten minutes, Peter began to relax and started to enjoy the day.

They stayed until late into the night, watching movies and drinking. As predicted, they ended up walking back to her house.

"So, boyfriend?" she said as they came up her walk, adding extra emphasis to the last word. "Is having a girlfriend everything you hoped it would be?"

"I don't know," he said, opening the door for her. "I think it depends on what happens next."

"Oh, you mean the part where I go upstairs and get naked," she said and traced a finger across his chest as she passed.

"That's definitely a good start," he said. His dick was already stirring. He locked the door behind him and followed her down the hall. "Then what are you going to do?"

"Then I want to get all wet," she said, walking backward toward the stairs. His mouth started to water as he recalled the taste of her on his lips, and he was definitely sporting a woody. She bit her lower lip to stop from smiling. "All wet while I'm in the shower. Then I'm going to pass out. That is, unless you had something else in mind."

Peter let out a low growl and moved her direction. Meg giggled and ran up the stairs. He gave chase, only to get a face full of shirt. He caught up with Megan in her bedroom—not that she was trying very hard to escape. She'd kicked off her pants and tried to make a break for it, but he scooped her up and tossed her on the bed.

"Why Peter, I'm getting the distinct impression that you want something," she teased as he crawled up her body. She giggled and tried to wiggle out from under him, but he caught both her hands.

"You don't want me to tie you to the bed, do you?" he said and bit her lip. She moaned and arched into him. "Or maybe you do."

"You know, I've been to some out of the ordinary conferences. I have a whole trunk full of interesting things I've picked up from vendors over the years. I've always wanted to try some of them out. That doesn't weird you out, does it?"

Peter pulled back and met her gaze. "I don't know. I guess it depends on what you're talking about."

"Nothing too bizarre, but there are some toys I think would be fun."

"Right now?" he asked.

"Why not?" she pushed her hips up, grinding them against his. "If you're up for a little adventure.

Peter wasn't sure what she had in mind, but she was an alluring siren. He'd follow her anywhere.

Meg hopped out of bed and went to the closet. When she'd said trunk, he didn't expect the large steamer trunk she pulled into the center of the room. With a devilish grin, she threw open the lid and shifted through the contents. The variety scared him a little. Cuffs, a riding crop, a couple costumes, and a sleek purple vibrator all littered the floor. A stainless steel object that looked a lot like a kettlebell cracked the wood floor as she tossed it out.
What the hell have I agreed to?

"Meg," he said cautiously. "What exactly are you looking for?"

"Don't worry, you'll like it."

But he wasn't so sure. She'd nearly emptied the trunk and Peter was concerned. He was willing to try out some things with her, but some of those things were going on his
hell, no
list.

"Here it is," she said, holding up a nondescript black box with small gold lettering and a bee on the outside and a fistful of fabric. He couldn't make out the words. But as he looked at the contents of the trunk that littered the floor, he believed it could actually be a box filled with bees.

"Meg, we said we'd be honest about what we like, and I'm not into that kind of stuff."

"Oh, lighten up, prude." She crawled onto the bed and straddled his hips. "And trust me."

Now he was worried. Meg only said trust me before they got into some serious trouble.

"Why don't you let me use that on you?" he said in an attempt to gauge the seriousness of the situation.

"Maybe next time," she said. "But I've been dying to try this honey dust. Now, hold on to the headboard, and try to stay still."

Honey dust didn't sound too bad. Peter complied, relaxing into the bed as Meg wrapped the silky fabric around his hands. She then ripped open the box, producing a bundle of feathers and a jar. It seemed harmless enough as she unscrewed the lid of the jar and dipped the feathers in.

"Wait," she said and set down the jar. "I read that this is more intense with sensory deprivation." Meg grabbed another scarf out of the pile and held it up to his face. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do," he said without hesitation.

He was fine if she wanted to play games. Hell, it was sexy as fuck. But he wasn't prepared for the overwhelming sensations. She traced the natural contours of his muscles, leaving a trail of silky powder, and then repeated the motion with her tongue, lapping, and sucking. The tickle of the feather followed up with her hot lips was beyond erogenous. The carnal pattern of teasing continued all over his body until she had nothing left but his hard cock.

"So?" she said as she settled between his legs, her hot breath causing his dick to jump with anticipation. "Still not into this kind of thing? 'Cause I can stop."

"Don't stop," he half moaned, half begged. Peter gripped the headboard, willing her to take him into her mouth.

She ran her feathered implement of torture down his length, followed by her tongue, and then sucked him deep into her throat. Meg repeated the motion a few more times, and it took every bit of his willpower not to come. As appealing as having her suck him off might be, he wanted to be buried deep inside her when he came.

As if reading his thoughts, Meg pulled back and sat up on her knees, straddling his hips again. "I really liked that. You have no idea how turned on I am." She leaned forward and untied his hands from the headboard and pulled off the blindfold. Looking down at him, her whiskey eyes hooded and dark with desire, Peter knew then he'd never be able to let her go. "Now I want you to fuck me until I can't see straight."

She didn't have to tell him twice. Peter let go of the bar and flipped her over. They complemented each other in almost everything they did, even in sex. As he slid his hands up her body, cupping her breasts, teasing the taut nipples, she pushed into his palms, egging him on, driving him wild. Everything he gave, she took eagerly, and vice versa.

And it wasn't just a response to his movements. Megan knew him, could read his moods. Last night he'd needed to be close to her, connect on a deeper level. They'd made love in every sense of the word. Today had been relaxing and they were both in good moods, so she was playful, teasing, laughing as they explored each other's bodies. By the time they collapsed in a heap of breathless satisfaction, Peter knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the only woman he wanted. The only one he'd ever need.

Unfortunately, morning arrived way too soon. The reality of day-to-day life came crashing in with the scream of the alarm. Peter had to work. And since he'd failed to bring a change of clothes, he was going to be late once again. He stumbled out of bed, slightly hungover, and collected his clothes from the various places he'd tossed them last night.

"I have to get to the office. Call me this afternoon," he said, kissing Megan on the forehead.

She turned her back on him, pulling the covers over her head, and groaned. "It's five in the fucking morning. Connor doesn't even get me up this early. Don't talk to me until at least seven."

"Still not a morning person, I see," he said with a chuckle and continued to get dressed.

"It's not morning," she said peeking her head out. "Morning is when the sun comes up. It's still night out."

He patted her hip and headed for the door, still laughing. She might not be much of a morning person, but he could really get used to waking up with her in his arms.

It was almost nine by the time he made it in. Matt knocked on his door a few minutes later. He looked tired and a bit disheveled.

"Second time in as many weeks you've missed the morning meeting," Matt said, closing the door behind him. "I know it's the holidays and a few missed meetings here and there aren't a big deal, but it isn't like you to be late. Since the day we started this company, you've always been one of the first people in the office, even if you had a killer hangover. Is everything okay? It's not your dad, is it?"

"I'm sorry," Peter said, trying to hide his guilt. "You don't need to worry about me."

"Are you sure? I could tell something was off at the gala and now today…" Matt sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Beth thinks it has something to do with a woman. But we've been friends long enough I know you're not the type to get twisted up over some chick."

He wanted to tell his friend. It would be nice to talk to someone he trusted about the change in his relationship with Meg, but he couldn't. He'd promised to let her talk to Simon first. So for the first time in years, Peter lied to Matt.

"I promised Jesse I'd help out at the shop during the evening so she can finish her degree." He started shifting papers on his desk, unable to look at Matt while the half-truths slid off his tongue. "I started training on the new dispatch system right after Christmas. Now that I'm up to speed, I can practically do the job in my sleep. So don't worry, things will be back to normal starting this week."

"Thank God," Matt said, letting out a deep breath. "I was a little worried Beth was right. The last thing we need is you distracted right now. With Simon in New York and the baby coming any day now, I was really counting on you to hold down the fort."

"No worries, man. You can count on me." Peter picked up a pink message slip and sighed. "Can we talk later? I really need to return this call." He didn't really need to call AT&T about upgrading the office cell phones, but it was the first message he'd grabbed. He hated lying, even if it was just lying by omission.

Chapter Fifteen