Modern Girl's Guide to Friends With Benefits (7 page)

Peter frowned but didn't say anything. Megan saw this as a good sign and pushed hard. Before he could object, she straddled him and slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

Peter went rigid, and for a few horrifying seconds Megan worried he was going to reject her. But there was no mistaking the hard line of his erection pressed against her. She shifted, rocking against his hardness, and just like that, the energy in the room flipped. The slow, sweet kiss deepened and became more demanding as his tongue worked past her lips. The sensation was overwhelming. His lips became the center of her universe. She could have remained like that for hours, writhing in his lap at every tiny movement of his tongue against hers.

But before things got too far, Peter grabbed both her arms, locked them behind her back, and pulled her away. They both sat motionless, staring at each other while struggling to breathe.

"What the fuck, Megan? Help you out?" he growled. "It's not like you're asking to be picked up at the airport. We're talking sex. That's not a favor you just casually ask a friend."

If he was trying to dissuade her, he'd chosen the wrong tactic. His display of dominance made her weak in the knees. Thank God she was sitting or Megan would have dissolved into a puddle of lust at his feet. "I don't see why not. Everyone thinks we're doing it, so why not?"

"I can give you thousands of reasons. Because we're friends. Because you're Simon's sister. Because it's a bad idea."

"Oh, I don't know. I could tell that you enjoyed our kiss. Or is that a cigar in your pocket?"

"You caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting tongue."

"But the hips don't lie," she said and rocked against him. He tightened his hold on her arms and she stopped. "Come on, Peter, let's just try it. This one time while we're both in the mood. What happens in Vail, can stay in Vail. If it's a disaster, we'll never have to talk about it, but if it works out…"

With a low hum in the back of her throat, Megan tried to shift her position to get more contact, but Peter held on tight. So Megan wet her lips, drawing it out, and watched as the heat flared in Peter's dark eyes.

"That's enough, Meg," he said in a hoarse voice. Every muscle in his body was tense and he made an effort to look anywhere but her face. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"That's your problem—you're thinking too much."

"Megan, I'm serious." He stared down at her with a look that could melt ice. He was either going to kiss her or strangle her. God, that look just made her insides turn to jelly. "This is not a line I'm willing to cross." There was a thread of disappointment in his voice and that was all the encouragement Megan needed.

"Fine. It's not a line you can cross." Megan struggled to get free from his grip. Thinking she'd finally acquiesced, he let her go. "But you don't have to, Peter. I will." She pulled her shirt over her head. Feeling brave, she ran a hand across her breast and pinched a nipple. "Because I'm getting off, with or without you. You can either watch or you can—"

She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. His nostrils flared in anger and his lips crashed into hers. It wasn't like the questioning kiss from earlier. It was aggressive and possessive. He sucked on her lower lip, using his teeth, and pulled her down hard against his entire length.

Not one to waste an opportunity, she returned the favor. Everything went a little fuzzy around the edges. The kiss was equal parts teasing and rough, tongues sliding and teeth nipping. But when he moved his hands to her bare skin, everything came into sharp focus, and she was convinced if he stopped she'd spontaneously combust.

"This better not be a tease," she said, arching into his touch. Warmth spread down her spine, pooling between her legs, and it was quite possible she'd be able to come if he just touched her right—

"Fuck. What are we doing?" Peter ran his thumb across her nipple. She gasped and a shiver ran through her. "We shouldn't do this."

"Stop talking. You're overthinking it." Growing bold, Megan slipped her hand between them to cup his cock and gave a firm squeeze. "Now, am I going to have to get off by grinding myself against your leg or are you going to do something with this?"

Peter knew he should have told her to stop. It wasn't right. He should have pushed Megan away, not slid his hand into her bra. But there was no way that was going to happen now. Not with her hand pressing his dick and that sexy purring sound she was making.

This was insane. There was no other explanation. The realization that, after all these years, his best friend was mostly naked, unbuckling his pants, was crazy. He needed a minute to catch his breath, a moment to come back to reality, but she didn't give it to him.

Meg had made her way into his slacks and was rubbing her thumb down the length of him when he finally gave up any pretense. There was no more rational thought after that. Nothing more than the knowledge that Peter wanted her. Period.

As he fumbled with his pants, Meg slid the flimsy thing she called underwear off. She was back before he could come to his senses, up on her knees, straddling him. This put her lovely breasts at the perfect position to sample. As if reading his mind, she arched, putting the luscious mounds on display. Without hesitation, he took one of the stiff peaks into his mouth, sucking through the lace, and was rewarded with a little gasp.

Meg shivered in his arms and curled her fingers in his hair, pinning him in place. Her skin was salty on his tongue and he pushed away the fabric to get to the prize. The more intense sensation of his mouth on her sensitive skin caused Meg to rock against his hard dick, coating him with her wetness. Normally he'd build to the moment, but they'd already had fifteen years of foreplay. She was ready and he couldn't wait a second longer.

He pulled away just long enough to move her hips and slam into her. Peter sucked in a breath as he embedded himself fully, and fuck did it feel good. A sweet, hot explosion of raw sensation.

"We're not stopping now," she hissed and lifted up enough to rock back down again. "If you even think about it, I swear I'll gouge your eyes out right here. Now fuck me."

Using his shoulders as leverage, she began rocking her hips against him, and he damn near lost it. He gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass. He wanted to take things slow, but the whole scene had him off his game. The sweet smell of Meg's skin mingled with sex, the rawness of her voice, and the familiar, mischievous golden eyes hooded with passion—all of it pushed him over the edge. It only took a few minutes before he'd reached his breaking point. And when she threw her head back, screaming out her release, he exploded.

She was the first to move, sliding off his lap and gathering her clothes. That's when all the doubt came crashing back into him. What the hell had he been thinking? What had she been thinking to even suggest it? And why now after all these years? What were they going to do now? It was a huge mistake.

It took him a few more seconds to rein in all the panic. All the while Meg still hadn't said a word. She got dressed and watched him, assessing. It was a little unnerving. As he straightened his own clothes, Peter realized they hadn't used a condom.

"Fuck," he swore under his breath.

"Why yes, it was," she said in her usual teasing tone. She leaned casually against the back of the sofa as if she didn't have a care in the world. "And a good one by the way."

"Meg, we have a problem."

But that's as far as he got. His cell rang. Simon was on the phone. He looked up at Meg and back to the phone. He couldn't let his friends find out because they'd beat the shit out of him. This was another secret he was going to have to keep from them. God damn it. He couldn't do this right now. He hit ignore and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

"Meg," he started again. "What just happened… Emotions were running high with both of us and… What I mean to say is that…"

"I'm listening," she said and crossed her arms. The tight press of her lips and the closed-off stance said it all.

He was treading on very thin ice and he was pretty sure whatever he said next could make or break their friendship. He decided to start with the most pressing issue. "Things got out of hand and I forgot to use a condom."

"Have more faith in me, Peter." Meg turned her back and went into the kitchen, filling up a glass with water. "I wouldn't have let things get that far if there was an issue. I've had an IUD for a while now. No surprises in nine months, I promise. So, unless you're trying to subtly tell me you got some STD, I've got it covered."

"Okay," he said, cautiously. "I mean, no. No, I'm clean. You don't have to worry about that."

But that was the thing: she didn't look worried. Meg was standing in the kitchen, sipping a glass of water. And other than her wrecked hair and disheveled clothes, she looked calm and collected. Peter, on the other hand, felt like his world had shifted on its axis. He didn't know where to go from here, and Meg sure wasn't tossing him a lifeline.

"And how do you feel about this?" he finally asked.

But before she could answer, his phone rang again.
Simon.

"Go ahead," she said.

"We need to talk," Peter said and hit ignore.

"He's only going to call back. We left in a hurry and I forgot my purse, with my phone. I'm sure he's convinced I've been carried away by a biker gang. Call him back. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. We can have that conversation tomorrow."

Meg didn't wait for him to respond. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead like she had a thousand times and went back to her room. Peter was ready to follow, but the phone rang again. She was right. Simon wouldn't stop calling until he reached one of them. And the last thing he needed was for him to show up. "Hey, what's up?"

"Is Megan with you?" The panic in Simon's voice was clear. "Both of you just disappeared after the fight. None of us knew what happened."

"She's here. Getting ready for bed, actually. Sorry, I should have called you. There was some jerk harassing her. It was bad, and I had to get her out of there."

"Thanks. Julia thought I was overreacting, but she doesn't realize the kind of trouble Meg gets into. Hell, I think the girl goes out looking for it. She might put on the good-girl act for Dad, but I've had to bail her out of bad situations on more than one occasion."

Meg didn't go looking for trouble, but it did find her. And now he was at the center of it this time. The irony of that fact was not lost on him as he stood in the living room, the smell of sex still in the air. "Don't you worry about Meg. You know I've always got her back," he said. The trouble was, after what happened tonight, Peter was convinced he'd let her down.

The sound of the shower kept him out of Meg's room. He went back to his own to get cleaned up, his mind still racing in a thousand directions. She'd assured him everything was fine. That things weren't going to change. But everything felt different.

Peter spent most of the night awake, going over the conversation he planned to have with Meg in the morning. It ranged from screaming at her for pushing things too far to asking her to forgive him. He even mulled over the idea of continuing like she'd suggested.

But that idea was usually followed up with thoughts of the conversation he'd have to have with Simon. And every one of those talks ended up with Peter beaten and bloodied.

Fuck.
He had to kiss her back. She would have stopped if he'd insisted. They'd been playing that same dance for almost fifteen years now. He was a grand fucking master at it, but tonight he slipped up. Christ, slipping up wasn't the right word. He'd royally screwed up everything.

The clock had rolled past four in the morning before he finally drifted off to sleep, only to have his dreams invaded with images of a lacy bra and hot, breathy moans brushing across his cheek.

He was awake by seven, with an aching hard-on. Peter shuffled out of bed and jumped into a shower where he could take care of his hard-on. There was no way he'd be able to have an intelligent conversation with Meg this morning until some of this lust was sated, and at this point, he wasn't even sure that would work.

She wasn't Meg, his friend, his surrogate sister, his partner in crime. She was now Megan, the woman who haunted his dreams and plagued his every thought. The woman sleeping just inches from him right now. It didn't matter what either of them wanted. Everything had changed.