Page 77 of Best Friends for Never

“Noel!” she moans, squeezing her eyes shut as she gets just what she asked for—to come around my cock.

I fuck her through her orgasm, mine racing up my spine with just a few more thrusts, then I explode, a burst of bright-white light behind my eyes as I spill myself inside her.

It’s magnificent. Heavenly. Dare I say, spiritual.

Every-fucking-thing I could have asked for.

I want more. Ineedmore.

But not yet. Not now. Not when she’s going limp in my arms, her eyes barely able to stay open.

I slow my movements, rocking against her lightly as our orgasms wane, then kiss her everywhere I can reach before starting again.

When she begins to shiver against me, I drag us both out of the water and lay her down on the blanket-covered rock.

I curl up next to her, wrapping her in my arms, and she comes to me willingly.

After a few quiet moments, she mutters, “So much for our first time not being in public.”

I laugh. “Yeah, so much for that.”

Then she’s snoring. Softly and quietly.

I could stay here forever.

The thought flits through my mind so quickly I barely have a chance to register it.

All I know is that forever here doesn’t sound as bad as it once did.

And I’m not sure how to feel about that.

Chapter Twelve

Parker

Of all the times I’ve dreamed about making love to Noel Carter, not once did that fantasy include Rockaway Falls.

But that’s exactly what happened.

I had sex with Noel Carter.

I had sex with my best friend.

I feel different and the same all at once.

Different becauseHoly crap, I just had sex with Noel, and the same because it felt so ... natural. Right.Perfect.

“You know,” he says, his fingers dancing along my naked back. We have no idea where my suit top went. After waking up from a brief nap, we searched for my suit for thirty minutes, but we could only recover my bottoms. I guess I’ll be hiking back in just my T-shirt. “The first time I came out here was with my parents. They brought me here for the day.”

“What’d you do?” I ask, though I already know the story. He’s told it to me many times over the years, but I still love to hear it. The joy in his voice is worth hearing over and over.

“We had a picnic. Gran sent us here with tuna-salad sandwiches and a homemade blueberry cobbler. We ate and laughed, then took turns jumping off the top of the cliff before doing it all over again. Westayed out so late we had to walk back in the dark, my mother telling my father, ‘I told you so, Jeffrey,’ the whole way back. He’d respond with, ‘Yeah, but we sure had fun, didn’t we, Tiff?’ She’d roll her eyes, but she’d still be grinning. That’s what they always did—laughed at each other. Even when they were mad, they still laughed.” He swallows roughly. “It was my favorite day out here for a long, long time.”

“What knocked it out of first place?”

“You.”

I smile against him. “My first time was with you.”

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