Page 34 of Trustfall

“Oh my God! You rode his face?” Allie nearly yells as she sits up excitedly in bed.

I contemplate telling her that it was pretty close to that, but I would never hear the end of it.

“No! Jesus, Allie. Keep your voice down.”

“Damn. So, no tongue?” she waggles her eyebrows.

“There may have been some. Shit, why do I still end up spilling everything to you when I tell myself I won’t?”

“I’m pretty hard to resist,” Allie deadpans.

“Okay, that’s it. You are officially cut off. And I’m going to sleep.”

“Fine. You’re off the hook. For now.”

“Goodnight, Allie,” I say, hiking the covers higher.

“Goodnight, Screamy,” she singsongs.

I scoff as I lay my head on the pillow. Then, by some miracle, whether it’s due to the physical exhaustion or being able to shut my brain off for a minute, I finally drift off to sleep.

12

LUKE

I gave Emory Caldwell an orgasm.I never thought I would utter those words, but here we are. And it wasn’t just any orgasm. It was a screaming, legs-shaking, inability-to-walk one. Do I regret it? Not even a little bit. Yet, I can’t help the guilt that creeps into my gut uninvited when I think of Nate. I meant what I said—Emory is an adult. She’s the only one who decides what she does with her body, and Nate needs to back the fuck off. But he’s my best friend, and it feels wrong to sneak around behind his back. I should tell him. Not the gritty details, of course. Not how she was so turned on, she gushed on my fingers. Not how she whimpered against my hand while I held it against her mouth. Not how she whined when I slowed down. And definitely not how she shattered around my tongue and fingers when she finally came.

Great, now I’m hard again. It took all of two strokes for me to come—hard—when I got back to my room last night. She would have “returned the favor,” but as much as I wanted that, I turned her down. My dick didn’t quite understand at the time, but there was something in her eyes that made me think that she was offering because she felt like she had to. That shit didn’t sit right with me. I was the one who offered to helpher sleep, and I honestly didn’t expect anything in return. I just wanted to make her feel good. Not to mention that was the first time anyone had ever tasted that sweet, perfect little pussy. What kind of losers has she dated in the past? Although, I can’t say my inner caveman didn’t love that I was the first guy to make her scream with my tongue.

Yeah, definitely not telling Nate any of that. But I should tell him something happened between us and just get it over with. Take my beating like a man. The problem is it’s going to be worse than just a beating. He’ll make me move out and never let me talk to Emory again. He might even stop speaking to me altogether. I get where he is coming from in a way. I don’t have a sister, and I have to think I would be protective of her too, but Nate’s behavior is excessive.

No, I shouldn't tell him. I need to see where this is going first.

As I fantasize about everything I want to do to Emory, I hear footsteps coming from the guest room. She left for work early, her car gone from her driveway by the time I woke up. It must be Allie. Sure enough, a grumpy, dark-haired, spectacled girl comes around the corner looking like the real-life version of that zombie cartoon my little cousins like to watch.

“Coffee?” I ask, hoping a peace offering might keep her grumpiness at bay.

She doesn’t respond with words, but she nods.

“How do you take it?”

“Creamer,” she groans and sounds like a zombie, as well.

I grab some creamer from the fridge, put a splash in a mug of coffee, and hand it to her. She downs it like she’s chugging beer at a frat party, then holds it out and says, “More."

I fill it again with coffee and another splash of creamer. This time, she sips it a little slower. As she starts to come back to life, her scowl slowly turns into a knowing grin.

Shit, she knows.

“Was the bed okay? Did you sleep well?” I ask, attempting to steer her away from whatever she is about to say.

“Did you?”she shoots back.

Yep, I walked right into that one.

We dance around the obvious for a bit, then she says she's going to check on the house. I've never felt such relief. I'm open about sex and usually don't mind discussing it, but it's weird that Emory's best friend knows what happened last night, and I'm not talking to her until I've had a chance to talk to Emory about it first.

Everything driedout nicely in Emory's kitchen, but some of the wood floor panels suffered water damage. As I survey the kitchen, Allie mentions that there are spare panels stored in the shed from the renovation, so I decide to replace them. I give the guys a heads-up that they're on their own today, as we only have to finish a kitchen backsplash, which I'm sure they can manage without me. Marco even volunteers to pick up the drying equipment before heading to the job site.

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