Substitute Boyfriend by Jade C. Jamison Page A

present.  I felt my toes curl and my thighs start to quiver as he wiggled a finger inside me, his tongue still flicking at my clit.  Oh, God, that was it.  That was it!
    Oh, there went the groans as he hit the target.  My brain escalated to that point of no return and I cried aloud.   Shit.  He was good.  It seemed to last forever as my legs clenched and I wrapped my fingers in my own damn hair, needing to hold onto something so I could ride the incredible wave brought on by the orgasm his tongue was delivering.
    At last, though, I wound down from that amazing high, but it only made me want more.  I needed to be filled by him.
    Luckily, he knew it, and he stood, towering over my prone body, a darkness in his eyes I’d never seen before that night.  Oh, my God, my friend was hot and I’d been too stupid to ever notice it before.  He was insanely hot and he was with me.
    In seconds, he’d pulled his wallet out of his pocket and he had a condom.  Well, what a little rascal.  Prepared, and at the most unlikely of times.  Maybe there was a lot more to Roman than I’d ever suspected.
    That thought was gone, though, as he entered me.  Oh, wow.  So Ridley wasn’t the only one with a cock that felt nice inside me.  Roman’s technique might not have been any better, but he’d started the party right, and so everything felt better on this side.  Damn.  And it wasn’t but a few minutes later that I was quivering again, crying aloud, and completely unaware when he hit the top himself.
    The best part?
    I’d have to find a way to work this shit into a book somehow, because that had to be some of the most unbelievable spontaneous sex I’d ever engaged in.  Just…wow.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    I WOUND UP spending the night at Roman’s apartment.  I was surprised the next morning when I heard him get up.  Even though I was half asleep, I peeked.  He was putting on a jogging suit.  So, after I heard the front door to his place close, I rolled over and looked at the clock.
    Six AM.
    I knew that this time of year, if he wanted to jog, he had to do it early before it got scorching hot outside, but six in the morning?  On a Saturday?
    My friend was insane.
    I thought back to the night before, after we’d made love.  Okay, no.  We hadn’t made love.  We’d fucked.  And it had been damn good.  But afterward, he’d led me to his bedroom.  I was still naked from head to toe and spent, and he pulled back the covers and tucked me in.  He covered me with a sheet and thin blanket, and I was grateful for the extra cover, because his air conditioning was beginning to feel downright cold.  He’d pulled his jeans back up (an item of clothing I only ever saw him wear away from the college) before guiding me to his room, and he muttered something about needing to use the restroom before bed.
    So I lay there in semi-darkness, trying not to fall asleep, so I could analyze his bedroom.  But it hadn’t worked.  I’d passed out before he made it back to bed.
    Now, though, I’d had some sleep and he was off running, so maybe I could check things out.  It was brighter in there now anyway.
    No such luck, though.  I fell right back asleep.
    It wasn’t until later, when I heard Roman taking a shower, that I started to stir again.  He was out of the bathroom and back in his bedroom, though, when I actually opened my eyes.
    He was wearing a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair was damp.  I knew he liked to work out (I’d been a workout buddy on more than one occasion), but I had no idea he enjoyed jogging.  God.  I don’t think I’d jog even if I was being chased by a zombie rapist.  The idea of running for the hell of it sounded less fun than a root canal.  But the results on my friend were impressive.  Holy shit, was he smoking hot.
    Honestly, though, things felt quite awkward.  What should I say?  What should I do?  Did we go back to being just friends or move on to some new