Are friends with benefits worth the cost?
My cocky friend Will doesn't believe that I'm frigid, but what does he know? His promises might make me shiver but it doesn't mean he can give me a happy. He's so confident he's betting me money on it, and a thousand bucks is a lot of money to a poor college student.
Once should be enough to taunt him with "I told you so," right?
But I didn't know he meant trying everything once...
This super hot 25,000-word standalone new adult romance novella has adult language and themes, and a happy ending (several, actually).
My cocky friend Will doesn't believe that I'm frigid, but what does he know? His promises might make me shiver but it doesn't mean he can give me a happy. He's so confident he's betting me money on it, and a thousand bucks is a lot of money to a poor college student.
Once should be enough to taunt him with "I told you so," right?
But I didn't know he meant trying everything once...
This super hot 25,000-word standalone new adult romance novella has adult language and themes, and a happy ending (several, actually).
Hot, sexy, funny and romantic, a great friends with benefits story , and a wonder HEA. I love this one , but as I must say I just wish it was longer!!!!
A tremor went through me at the feel of his other hand higher up on my back, tracing the line of my spine.
“—a room!”
A nearby shout of laughter burst into my brain, bringing me back to reality. And that reality was that I was, once again, ready to climb Will like a tree in a public place. My face heated. Was I a closet exhibitionist?
“What do you think?” he asked, looking down at me. His eyes were almost black in the dim light of the bar, his mouth swollen from, well, me. I licked my lips.
Our lower halves were molded together as his palm slid further around my ass, to the damp little crease where my thigh started. I moaned. If he just stretched his fingers a little, he could touch—
“Think?” He wanted me to think? His wandering hands were this close to being the only thing holding me upright.
He nodded. “I know; it’s hard right now.”
“Uh huh.”
“Should we?”
“Should we what?”
His lips curved up. “Get a room.”
My earlier nervousness bubbled up again. As I started to look at the floor again—I think I had memorized the tile pattern by now—he broke his hands off my backside and tipped my chin up.
“Hey. We will do whatever you want,” he assured me.
And I believed that he meant it, that he would willingly go home with blue balls from hell if I stopped this. But if he was feeling anything like I was, we were standing at the top of the stairs with that Slinky again. I wanted—no, needed—him to push me over. He was just waiting for the word from me. Or maybe he wanted me to push him over this time.
“What do you want to do?” I asked him.
Yes, I was being passive-aggressive. I wanted to give him an out. Will may be an admitted pervert, but he was also a gentleman. He would never…
“I already told you,” he said. “I want to fuck you, however and wherever you want. Whenever, too, but now is good for me.”
“Here?” I squeaked.
“No. I need you in private.” He leaned close to my ear, letting out a dark chuckle. “I want to do things to you that are illegal in many states, and definitely against the health code, even in this place.”
If he could devour me whole with just his gaze, he would. I’d never felt so overwhelmed by just someone looking at me—into me—like my skin was made of glass. His breath was coming as short and fast as mine, as we both considered what those secret, wicked things would be.
“But I will wait, if it’s not tonight. Fuck, I’ll even take you out first. But I’m not waiting for the third date or anything like that,” he warned. “I’ve already gotten you out of your underwear.”
“I wasn’t wearing any.”
“—a room!”
A nearby shout of laughter burst into my brain, bringing me back to reality. And that reality was that I was, once again, ready to climb Will like a tree in a public place. My face heated. Was I a closet exhibitionist?
“What do you think?” he asked, looking down at me. His eyes were almost black in the dim light of the bar, his mouth swollen from, well, me. I licked my lips.
Our lower halves were molded together as his palm slid further around my ass, to the damp little crease where my thigh started. I moaned. If he just stretched his fingers a little, he could touch—
“Think?” He wanted me to think? His wandering hands were this close to being the only thing holding me upright.
He nodded. “I know; it’s hard right now.”
“Uh huh.”
“Should we?”
“Should we what?”
His lips curved up. “Get a room.”
My earlier nervousness bubbled up again. As I started to look at the floor again—I think I had memorized the tile pattern by now—he broke his hands off my backside and tipped my chin up.
“Hey. We will do whatever you want,” he assured me.
And I believed that he meant it, that he would willingly go home with blue balls from hell if I stopped this. But if he was feeling anything like I was, we were standing at the top of the stairs with that Slinky again. I wanted—no, needed—him to push me over. He was just waiting for the word from me. Or maybe he wanted me to push him over this time.
“What do you want to do?” I asked him.
Yes, I was being passive-aggressive. I wanted to give him an out. Will may be an admitted pervert, but he was also a gentleman. He would never…
“I already told you,” he said. “I want to fuck you, however and wherever you want. Whenever, too, but now is good for me.”
“Here?” I squeaked.
“No. I need you in private.” He leaned close to my ear, letting out a dark chuckle. “I want to do things to you that are illegal in many states, and definitely against the health code, even in this place.”
If he could devour me whole with just his gaze, he would. I’d never felt so overwhelmed by just someone looking at me—into me—like my skin was made of glass. His breath was coming as short and fast as mine, as we both considered what those secret, wicked things would be.
“But I will wait, if it’s not tonight. Fuck, I’ll even take you out first. But I’m not waiting for the third date or anything like that,” he warned. “I’ve already gotten you out of your underwear.”
“I wasn’t wearing any.”
Nikky Kaye is almost my real name. I’m a former Film professor who likes more than her movies to be black and white. Sadly, the world doesn’t work that way. I have worked with movie stars, Ivy League brainiacs, and the United Nations—all of which means that I’m familiar with ass-kissing, power struggles, greed and faking it. In my spare time I parent 5 year-old twin boys, serve on the board of an independent cinema, and run a medical consulting company.
