Laura had just turned off the TV after watching a steamy romantic scene, two women tangled in sheets, their bodies glistening with sweat, their moans filling the air as they kissed with desperate hunger. Laura's fingers had been between her thighs before the credits even rolled, her breath hitching as she imagined herself in that scene, not just watching, but feeling.
She was soaked.
Her panties were damp, her clit throbbing with every slow circle of her fingers. She bit her lip, her free hand gripping the armrest of the couch as she arched her back, her hips lifting off the cushion. "Fuck, I need more," she whispered to the empty room, her voice thick with frustration. She was so close, but it wasn't enough. She needed hands on her, mouths on her, tongues tracing every inch of her skin until she was trembling and begging.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, startling her. She groaned, her fingers stilling as she reached for it, her other hand still pressed against her aching pussy. The screen lit up with Claire's name.
"Shit," Laura muttered, but she answered anyway, her voice breathless. "Hey, Claire. What's up?"
Claire's voice was warm, amused. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"
Laura hesitated, her fingers twitching against her wet folds. "No, just… watching something. What's going on?"
"I'm still out of town, remember? I left my spare keys at your place last week. Daniel's supposed to be home tonight, but I don't want him waiting outside if he forgets his. Can you drop them off at his apartment?"
Her stomach twisted. Daniel. Claire's husband. The man she had met exactly twice both times in passing, both times with Claire glued to his side like a possessive shadow. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a jawline that looked like it could cut glass. And he had eyes deep, intense, the kind that made Laura's pulse jump when they locked onto hers.
She swallowed. "Yeah, sure. I can do that."
"Thanks, babe. You're a lifesaver." Claire's voice dropped, teasing. "And if he offers you a drink, take it. He's been miserable without me."
Laura's fingers pressed harder against her clit, her breath hitching. "Claire, I don't..."
"I know, I know, you don't do men," Claire laughed. "But a girl can look, can't she?"
Laura didn't answer. She couldn't. Because the truth was, she had looked. More than once. And the way Daniel had looked back like he was undressing her with his eyes had left her flushed and flustered in a way no woman ever had.
Daniel's apartment was on the 12th floor, the elevator ride up feeling like an eternity. It's had started to rain outside already. Laura clutched the keys in her hand, her other fist clenched at her side. She was still wet. Still aching. And the thought of seeing him of being alone with him made her thighs press together.
She knocked.
The door swung open almost immediately, and there he was.
Daniel.
Tall. Broad. Dangerous.
Laura's mouth went dry.
"Laura," he said, his voice low, rough. His eyes raked over her slow, deliberate lingering on the way her nipples hardened beneath her thin tank top, the way her breath hitched when his gaze dropped to her lips. "Claire said you'd be stopping by."
She swallowed, forcing her voice to stay steady. "Yeah. She left her keys with me."
Daniel stepped back, gesturing for her to come in.
At first, she hesitated. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Though She force a smile and slowly stepped inside.
The door clicked shut behind her, and Laura's pulse spiked.
Daniel turned to face her, his back against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. "You want a drink?"
Laura's fingers tightened around the keys. "I shouldn—"
"Relax," he murmured, pushing off the door and stepping closer. "It's just a drink."
She should leave. She should.
But then his hand brushed against hers as he took the keys, his fingers lingering just a second too long. His touch was electric, sending a jolt of heat straight between her legs.
"Whiskey?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.
Laura exhaled shakily. "Yeah. Whiskey's fine."
The glass was cold in her hand, the whiskey burning as it slid down her throat. Daniel watched her from across the room, his own drink untouched, his eyes dark with something she couldn't..wouldn't...name.
"You're tense," he observed, setting his glass down on the coffee table. "Something on your mind?"
Laura's laugh was sharp, nervous. "Just… a long day."
The rain drummed against the windows, a steady rhythm that matched the pounding of Laura's heart as she stood in the dimly lit kitchen, her fingers trembling around the stem of her wineglass. She had told herself she would leave after dinner just a quick stop to drop off the keys to Daniel's apartment, a favor for her best friend, Claire, who was out of town. But now, with the storm raging outside and the air between them thick with something unspoken, Laura knew she wasn't going anywhere.
Daniel leaned against the counter, his broad shoulders filling out the crisp white dress shirt he'd rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms dusted with dark hair. His tie was loosened, the top button of his shirt undone, and the scent of his cologne something woodsy and intoxicating lingered in the air. He hadn't shaved in a day or two, and the shadow of stubble only made him look more rugged, more dangerous. Laura had always thought he was handsome, but tonight, with the way his dark eyes kept flickering to her lips, then away, as if he were fighting some internal battle, he was devastating.
"You should stay," Daniel murmured, his voice low, rough. "The storm's getting worse. The roads are flooding."
Laura swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. She had been Claire's best friend since college, the one who had been there through every breakup, every heartbreak, every late-night cry over bad men. And now, here she was, standing in Daniel's kitchen, her body betraying her with every breath. She had spent months pushing down the way her stomach fluttered when he laughed, the way her skin prickled when his hand brushed against hers by accident. She had told herself it was just admiration, just friendship. But tonight, with the two of them alone, the air between them charged with something electric, she couldn't lie to herself anymore.
"I shouldn't," she whispered, but her voice lacked conviction. She set the wineglass down, her fingers lingering on the cool surface of the counter. "Claire would kill me."
Daniel stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. "Claire doesn't have to know."
Laura's breath hitched. This was wrong. She knew it. He knew it. But the way he was looking at her like he wanted to devour her made her knees weak. She had never been with a man before. She had never wanted to be. But Daniel… Daniel made her question everything.
"Daniel," she breathed, her voice barely audible over the rain. "We can't."
He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw. "Tell me to stop," he said, his thumb grazing her lower lip. "Tell me you don't want this."
Laura's lips parted, but no words came out. She should tell him to stop. She should walk out that door and never look back. But the way his touch sent shivers down her spine, the way her body leaned into him without her permission she couldn't. She wouldn't.
Instead, she closed the distance between them, her hands pressing against his chest. She could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath her palms, the way his muscles tensed under her touch. "This is a bad idea," she whispered, but her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
Daniel groaned, his hands sliding down to her waist, gripping her hips. "The worst," he agreed, his voice a growl. And then his mouth was on hers.