Bad Friends Read online

  “I’m just popping to the loo,” I tell Paul, grateful of my full bladder – it means I can escape Paul’s non-stop stare.

  I wander between bodies in various stages of undress, covering my ears as I pass the sound system in the kitchen. At the back of the house is the downstairs toilet which is vacant, probably because everyone uses the upstairs – too cold down here at this time of year.

  I sit on the loo and do my business in a hurry, happy to be off it quickly because of the cold toilet seat. I wash my hands and contemplate going back out there, but there’s no rush and no queue for this loo. I dry my hands on a threadbare towel and put the toilet seat down, sitting on my arse for a moment of reprieve.

  Yes, I’ve always quite liked Paul. He’s tall which is good. Not that I’m height-ist, I’m not. Being tall myself, it’s always been a bit of an insecurity of mine and I always go for tall men. Ian is 6’3 and I suppose that was one of the first attractions – oh, and his sexy Irish mouth, and I guess, his long legs and the bulge in his jeans. He’s endowed, let’s say that. Pity it really is true what they say: it’s not what they’ve got, but what they do with it. Ian fucks me but doesn’t make love to me. I’m on the pill but he always wears condoms. I always tell him it’s because we need to be extra careful, but the truth is, I don’t trust him. I’ve asked him to get checked out numerous times in the past but he always says he’d know if there were anything wrong. I’ve always had this weird feeling that I’m the girl he enjoys living with because I’m young and servile and enjoy cleaning his living quarters – but maybe he has a more mature woman on the side, perhaps a lady who’s more sexually experienced and is into weird stuff.

  “You okay, Lily?” I hear Paul, tapping on the door.

  I suppose I could pretend to be someone else. He didn’t see me head for the downstairs loo, did he? I could put on a voice and he might believe I snuck out of the back door and I’m long gone.

  “Yeah, yeah… I’m fine.”

  I wait for him to leave but he doesn’t. Does he need the loo after me?

  I open the door and he’s standing there with wide eyes and biceps bulging, arms folded.

  “You need it, mate? All yours.” I’m so detached, so cool.

  “Nah, I don’t need it. But I’ll tell you what I do need.”

  He moves towards me and I’m shocked when he makes a move.

  Chapter Three

  I’m drunk but I’m not that drunk so when he tries to kiss me, I push him away and step back. He draws his bottom lip into his mouth and looks hurt but also horny.

  “You’re an idiot,” I accuse.

  “Yeah, but tell me you’re happy with Ian.”

  To shut him up, I do the only thing I can – I pull him into the loo with me, locking the door.

  When he kisses me, the centre of me comes alive like it hasn’t in months, my pelvis heavy, pulsing. He pulls me close and groans, his bristles brushing against my skin as he teases my tongue with his and invites me to kiss him back.

  When I reciprocate, he slides both of his hands down my back and grasps my bum tight, pulling me closer so I can feel his hard shaft against my belly. I begin to lose my breath and wrap my arms around his shoulders, clinging on.

  He digs his hand underneath my hair and tugs my head backwards, exposing my throat to his soft, warm kisses. Another wallop of heat in my pelvis lets me know he’s the one for me. I begin contracting and I haven’t reacted with a partner like this before, not once in my life. Ian used to be really good at licking pussy and he is big, but never before have I endured fanny flutters like this with any other bloke.

  Paul’s hand is under my floaty blouse before I know it, unhooking my bra. His hand moves to the front of my body and he sneaks his fingers beneath the lace and grasps my breast.

  “Paul,” I groan.

  “Yeah, babe?” he whispers.

  “Not here.”

  “Then where?” he begs, tweaking my nipple at the same time as fiddling awkwardly with the buttons of my top.

  The moment he has my blouse unbuttoned and my nipple in his mouth, I’m lost and desperate for his cock.

  “I’m so wet,” I moan, as he removes my top and bra and kisses my shoulders, my breasts, my throat and my chest.

  “I can smell you through your jeans, you’re horny as fuck.”

  “So are you.”

  “Yeah. I want to fuck you raw.”

  “Yeah?” I ask, looking up into his sea-green eyes.

  “Yeah, I fancy the fuck out of you.”

  The kissing becomes savage and he has my button open and zipper down before I have chance to contest again. He spins me around to face the wall and undoes himself. I hear the slap of flesh as his cock is freed and snaps back against his stomach.

  He pulls my arm behind me and wraps my fingers around his hot, stiff shaft, as hard as stone. Maybe he’s not lying, maybe he does fancy the fuck out of me.

  “You want this, Lily?”

  “Yes, now.”

  He pulls my jeans past my buttocks and grips my bare cheeks in his hands.

  “Fucking hell, Lily. You’re perfect.”

  I put my hands against the wall to steady myself as he wraps one arm around the front of me, keeping me in place. He eases apart my dripping folds with his fingers and nibbles my ear, murmuring, “You weren’t lying.”

  He presses up against my back and slots his cock against my opening, groaning as he prepares to plunge inside me. I have no hesitation as he slowly and carefully pushes into me, all the way, my body swallowing his.

  He keeps that one arm wrapped around me, holding me steady while placing his free hand over mine, our fingers entwined.

  “You ready?” he growls, kissing my nape.

  “Don’t make me scream.”

  “Too late.”

  He fucks me with tender strokes to begin with, then as he’s reassured that I’m wet enough and relaxed, he fucks me harder and I have to bite my lip. The sound of him plunging into me over and over echoes around the tiny room in a disturbing, loud fashion.

  “Afraid to scream?” he murmurs in my ear, his groin sweaty against my rear.

  He clings onto me as he pounds my pussy hard and when I feel like my breasts weigh a hundred pounds each, he tickles my clit with one finger and I turn my head to bite into his arm next to me, my cries muffled as I quiver around his cock. Once I’ve stopped biting him, he wraps both arms fiercely around my body and powers home, groaning against my ear as he comes, the sensation making me contract around him, all over again.

  He slips from me and buries his face in my neck. “Do you always bite your partners?”

  “No. And by the way, it was so that they wouldn’t hear.”

  “Come on, Lil. They’ll be in orgy mode out there already.”

  “Ugh, gross.”

  He laughs and squeezes me. I turn and let my bare chest press against him. He holds my face and kisses me softly.

  “Come back to mine,” I whisper, my flat empty… lonely. Chloe was right.

  “Okay.” The expression on his face tells me he knew this would happen one day, that it was inevitable.

  “We’ll sneak out. Nobody will know.”

  His face falls and it’s the reminder – this isn’t the perfect union after all.

  Still, he helps me get dressed and we leave out of the back door. Even if we only have tonight, maybe it’s better than nothing.

  The walk home was awkward. I realised as we got halfway down the street from Chloe’s that I’d left my coat, and with it, my phone and keys. I had to sneak back into the house and get it without people noticing. Thankfully it was beginning to look exceedingly bacchanal and I got in and out while Paul waited for me up the street, hidden behind a wall. A little bit embarrassing, to say the least. I don’t think me being with Ian is even the problem – it’s that we’ve been friends for thirteen years and it’s weird. What would everyone else think? Would they worry that us being a couple might cause problems? Maybe this is the r
eal reason why we didn’t get together all those years ago, before he went abroad. Have we both ignored this because of the wider implications?

  Oh, for god’s sake. Listen to me getting all serious. As if this will ever be a thing, this attraction between us – he’s not into monogamy, end of. It’s plain to see.

  Paul walks up behind me in the living room of my poky flat, hands on my upper arms, breath in my hair.

  “So,” he says, “what shall we do?”

  He wraps his arms around my midriff and I wish with every fibre of my being that I was the kind of girl who could fall back against him, let him carry me to bed and help me forget all my worries.

  “I’m going to freshen up. Why don’t you make us a cup of tea?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He walks through to the adjoining kitchen while I make my way out of the living area and down the corridor to the bedroom and en suite.

  If ever there was a time for my conscience to take control, it’s now, I realise. On the bed are some of Ian’s things, scattered around. I don’t even know if I’ve changed the sheets recently. While the kettle whistles down the hall, I dig into the hallway cupboard, pulling out a new set of sheets. If I do this quick, he’ll never know.

  “Tea’s ready,” he shouts through, just as I’m finishing smoothing out the duvet cover.

  “Yeah, won’t be long.”

  I wander into the bathroom, sweating from having changed the sheets in seconds. I dump the old sheets in the hamper and look in the mirror. I am totally screwed.

  Do I even love Ian anymore? I don’t know. We haven’t had sex in over two months now, but does that equate to not loving one another anymore? Or are we just incompatible, or worse, a toxic pairing?

  We could take this night for what it is and leave it there. It could be a really great night between two good friends who want nothing but happiness for the other. Maybe that doesn’t mean we can ever be together – maybe it just means we get one night and have to leave it there, before we go back to our real lives.

  I start running the bath because I can’t remember the last time I shaved my legs or bikini line. I suppose I would have probably tarted myself up a bit tomorrow morning before walking around to my parents’ house, but I can’t let Paul see me like this tonight.

  I’ve dunked myself into the bath by the time he walks into the room carrying my cup of tea. He’s seen most of me already but for some reason, I look down at myself and am relieved when I see bubbles covering up the main stuff.

  “Oh, is this what one calls freshening up?” He scans the bathwater but he won’t see anything.

  “It’s… I wasn’t expecting this, tonight.”

  “You don’t have to, not on my account,” he chuckles.

  I laugh as loudly as humanly possible. “I feel gross and need to be clean for my own sanity, okay?”

  He nods grudgingly and hands me the tea, which is very welcome after all that gross liquor and flat beer earlier, not to mention all the exhaust fumes as we walked home.

  “Where are you spending tomorrow, then?” I ask, as he sits on the closed toilet lid.

  “Ah, the usual. You?”

  “Yeah, my parents.”

  For a second, I wonder… wouldn’t it be wonderful if we both suddenly came down with colds and couldn’t spend Christmas being sociable? We could spend the whole of tomorrow in this flat, eating toasted sandwiches and watching films in our pyjamas – jumping into bed whenever we want.

  Then I remember… his mother is very traditional and wouldn’t brook his absence. Until he has a family of his own, as far as she’s concerned, he belongs with her.

  Stupid, Lily, stupid!

  “So, you say Ian is visiting his parents.”

  It’s a statement more than a question; he wants me to tell him all about my shitty relationship with my former boyfriend, now roommate, essentially.

  “He’s gone to Dublin, yeah. He won’t be back until after New Year. He drove over so he said there’s no point just going for a couple of days when he can really spend some time with people… catch up, see old friends and make the most of it.”

  The truth is, I was so happy when he suggested time apart over the festive period, and I think he was just as relieved and added on the bit about ‘making the most of it’. It’s been so weird between us lately, a break from one another sounded like a good idea – and he even said it’d be good to miss each other. I wondered if he meant in the way the heart grows fonder when lovers are apart, but I’m not sure.

  I watch Paul as he sips from his own cup. I observe his leg jiggling, like he’s working up to something. Then he comes right out with it: “Are you happy, Lil?”

  I stare at him, my heart breaking, then I stare at the tiled wall. After the tears have started to fall, I whisper, “No.”

  “Then, why stay with him? You could have anybody.”

  I take a deep breath. “It’s complicated. Besides, I don’t want to talk about it. Not tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  I detect his wounded tone.

  “It’s not that I can’t talk about it with you, alright? It’s that I can’t talk about it with anyone.”

  I sound hurt now, more so than him.

  He comes towards the bath and drops to his knees on the mat. “Lily, I don’t want to see you like this, that’s all.”

  I nod my head though I feel like punching him. If he doesn’t want to see me like this, he could do the decent thing and finally admit how he feels… then be my boyfriend instead. The truth is, I’m scared of being single. I’m terrified of it.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” he says, standing up.

  I begin to protest, ready to beg him not to leave. He sees my face and reassures, “Just going to put on a film or something while you do your thing.”

  I nod sharply.

  Fuck, me.

  This is a mess.

  Chapter Four

  I’m ready to tell him to go home, having worked myself up while in the bath. Entering the living room, I discover him on the sofa holding a beer from the fridge and the remote in his other hand, channel hopping. He turns to stare at me, standing across the room from him, wearing only my robe. I can’t find the words to tell him to go. I should be wrapping presents for tomorrow and sobbing into my cocoa because my boyfriend is abroad for the holidays – but all I see is Paul’s lovely face and his expectant expression. I can’t help myself.

  He walks up to me and gently links his fingers through mine. “I should have used a condom earlier. I’m sorry.”

  I look up and see pain in his eyes. “Is that all you’re worried about?”

  He barks with laughter. “Yeah, well…”

  “I’m on the pill, but anyway… I haven’t been with him in months.”

  Paul’s face turns into a frown. “So, where’s he getting it, then? How do you know he hasn’t shagged around all the time you’ve been together?” He blows out a deep breath and folds his arms.

  “To be honest, I don’t care. I don’t. And I always made him wear condoms. I don’t trust him.”

  “So, why are you with him?” His frown deepens and I’m back to wanting to chuck him out.

  “We share the rent,” I say with a laugh, even though it’s not at all funny.

  He doesn’t look impressed, arms still folded, staring at the floor.

  “What about you?” I add, poking my finger at his arm. “Do you wear condoms with the others?”

  “You know I do,” he retorts, but knowing he can’t retract the truth behind his admission, he turns around and makes for the door – running away perhaps out of shame, or maybe because he’s not as in control when he’s with me.

  “Paul,” I plead, and he halts just before the doorway.

  “What?” he asks, biting out the word.

  “Do you love me?” I have to ask. I’m scared and a little bit desperate at the thought of him leaving now and never seeing him again because he hates me.

  When he turns aroun
d to face me, it’s as if his arms have grown longer, or else he’s hunched under the weight of what’s happening here.

  “You’re one of my oldest friends, of course I love you,” he blurts.

  “No, that’s not what I mean. You know what I mean. Do you love me…? Like that?”

  I don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, though I expect there are reasons behind his wanderlust – his inability to commit. I only want to know that I mean more to him than the others.

  I’m fully expecting him to walk away and avoid any more questions, when instead, he comes barrelling across the room towards me and puts his arms around me.

  “This could ruin everything,” he says, out of breath.

  “Or it could be everything,” I whisper, wanting him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.

  Paul moves in and kisses me tenderly, feeling me out. He pulls away and looks right into my eyes.

  “Do you want me, Lily?”

  I’m out of breath, too. “You know I do.”

  He wraps his arms tight around me and leans in, kissing me slowly to begin with, teasing my tongue. The deeper he kisses me, the weaker I feel, clinging onto his shoulders as the taste of his tongue and lips consumes me, dragging me down into the deepest, sweetest desire of my entire life.

  I groan from somewhere deep inside me when he kisses my throat, my head tipping back, my hands dug into his hair. “Oh god, Paul.”

  Gooseflesh makes me super aware the moment my robe is open, thanks to Paul’s sneaky moves to untie my robe belt. He leans down to tug my nipple into his mouth, my other breast surrounded by his hand, and all I can hear is his satisfied grunts as he bites and nibbles my tight bud – and my cries as I swell with blood and desire between my legs.

  The robe falls from my shoulders and I’m left entirely naked. Paul’s face is red and sweaty and he bites his lip as he steps back to admire me.

  “I want to see you, too,” I beg, desperate to see him. He’s seen so much of me and I haven’t seen anything of him. I only know him from touch.

  He removes his t-shirt in that sexy way only men can manage, practically ripping it off. My god, he’s perfect. My lip trembles as I stare at his thick, broad chest, generously hairy. I love that. His biceps are solid and thick and I can’t wait to feel them close around me in bed.