Naughty List by Willa Edwards Page B

he pumped in and out of her. Callie wailed, throwing her head back against the smooth tile. The torture of his slow loving was driving her crazy. Her body flamed, her nipples rubbing against his chest, her breath shuddering.
    “That was the only reason I invited her.”
    She gasped as he thrust against her, her gaze returning to his. “You were trying to make me jealous?”
    “It worked, didn’t it?” He smiled, his dark eyebrow quirked in gorgeous male cockiness. Callie shifted, flinging her arms out to hit him, to knock the smug expression from his face. The movement repositioned her as Eric drove into her again, the new angle rubbing her clit along the hard muscles of his stomach each time he withdrew.
    He groaned, burying his face against her neck, his hot breath tickling her until she shivered. “I thought I was moving on,” he whispered against her skin. “You were going to get married. Eventually Josh had to get off his ass and make it official. I needed to get over you, for us to stay friends.
    “I couldn’t lose you. Even if you’d married him. Even if you could never love me. I couldn’t live without you in my life.”
    “I know the feeling.”
    He smiled, the anger leeching from him in another deep, digging thrust that had her eyes rolling and her heart pounding. “That doesn’t explain why you didn’t say anything since.” His eyes searched hers, imploring. “It’s been six months.”
    “I tried once,” she whispered, avoiding his fierce sapphire gaze. She should have tried harder. She remembered the five shots of hot, heavy Patrón courage in her stomach as she tried to confess. The idea of telling him all, of revealing the truth to him, felt almost impossible and necessary in the same breath, until she’d seen Josh’s picture flash across the television screen, the rolling bar at the bottom of the page detailing her greatest shame and embarrassment.
    Yet another moment Josh had taken from her.
    Eric kissed her neck, soothing her sadness, her regret, her fear. Callie took a deep breath, feeling the itch of tears again.
    “But after everything that happened with Josh,” she continued, soft vulnerability filling her voice, the pain she tried so hard to convince everyone, including herself, she didn’t feel, ringing through each word, “you were such a good friend. I couldn’t risk losing you.” She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry as grandma’s fruitcake, regardless of being surrounded by warm, streaming water. “I didn’t think there was any way you could want me, that I could be enough to keep you satisfied. I couldn’t lose another man that way.”
    Eric released her throat, freeing her from his grip. Stunned by her freedom, Callie wasn’t sure if she should celebrate her release or be disappointed by the loss. In an instant his hands cupped her face, redirecting her with his firm grip, not giving her any choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes were fierce, demanding, but held an edge of understanding. The understanding of her best friend. Of the man she loved.
    “What…J-josh…did,” he stammered, anger flaring in his gaze like a bright burning coal, just like the ones Santa had no doubt left them both, “that was about him, about his inability to be himself. It had nothing to do with you.”
    Callie nodded, trying to look away, but Eric wouldn’t let her. His fingers tightened, keeping her in place as his mouth descended on hers, sucking her lips, tongue thrusting deep.
    His body shifted against hers, his still hard cock circled inside her, pulling a fraction out and pushing back in as he kissed her with increasing intensity. Eric’s lips swallowed down the deep, raw moan roaring from Callie’s throat. She wrapped her arms around him, traced along his round, muscled shoulders and down his defined back, grateful for the sensation.
    He pulled back as quickly as he’d captured her lips, breath ragged, eyes bright with lust instead of anger. His fingers tangled in her