Bad Friends Read online

  He drops his jeans next and my nipples pucker to the point of pain when I see his erect cock nestled inside his straining boxer shorts. His eyes drift to my tight breasts and he grins as he takes two thumbs to the waistband of his pants, lowering them slowly.

  I lick my lips when I see his thick erection, almost purple, the head shiny, his veins bulging. His balls are high and full, despite the massive load he pumped into me earlier, now dried in my knickers which I threw in the wash when we got home. They will forever be my favourite knickers from now on.

  I’m still staring… at his muscular legs and strong hips… his solid middle and that fucking deliciously hairy chest, when he makes a move towards me, striding across the room.

  He takes me in his arms and kisses me savagely, biting, licking urgently, smothering me to the point of suffocation. He catches me up in his arms and I wrap my legs around his waist, kissing him wildly as he carries me through the room and down the corridor to the bedroom.

  We fall on the bed and I’m sure he’s going to push straight into me, but instead he spends time worshipping my breasts, sucking one until it’s puffy, then moving onto the other, continuing until he’s sucked and gorged them raw.

  He kisses his way down my body, hands following, his lips delicate on my stomach and hips. I’m writhing and panting by the time he positions himself between my legs, blowing on my pussy.

  “Did you get this pussy all clean for me?” he growls, eyes hooded as he looks between my face and my pussy, as if trying to decide which he loves best.

  “No, I got it all clean for me,” I purr, “so you could lick me like a dog until I’m all dirty again. So you could make me come and come and come.”

  “Fuck, yeah.”

  He licks from my vagina to my clit, his tongue long and the tip pointy.

  “Fuck,” I cry, gripping the bedsheets. If this is any sign of things to come…

  This is also Paul… gorgeous, lovely, genuine Paul… with his fucking tongue licking my clean, greedy pussy.

  I spread my legs wider and grip his hair.

  “I didn’t get all clean to stay clean. Don’t stop until I can’t take it anymore.”

  He puts his hands under my bum and lifts me to his mouth. “This is the sweetest pussy.”

  I start to climb quickly. His tongue flicks along the length of my pussy, meeting all the right pleasure points. In response my body undulates and I grab the sheets, and my hair, as his noisy ministrations make me even wetter, even more loud as he tongues my sex.

  When his fingers plunge inside me, my orgasm starts to grow somewhere deep inside my belly, rising to the surface of my being, climbing and climbing…

  When his tongue focuses on my clit, lapping and flicking, sucking and swirling, combined with his fingers now fucking my g-spot inside me, I scream and cry.

  “Oh my god, oh my god… oh my god… oh my god… don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop… don’t… stop… fuck! FUCK!”

  He removes his fingers when my clamping becomes unbearable and I fall like a broken doll back into bed, limbs askew, eyes open but unable to see. Only my panting chest gives away I’m still alive.

  Paul climbs over me, kissing my body once more, returning to enjoy my breasts again. He pulls at my nipples with his fingers, tweaking them into stiff peaks, then pressing himself onto my body, they burn as his chest pushes against them.

  He lifts my hands above my head and pins me down so I can’t escape him. He takes my top lip between his teeth and groans as he finds my slippery entrance, sliding into me without encumbrance. When he’s fully inside me he holds still and presses a light kiss to my lips. I wrap my legs around his back and squeeze my fingers around his.

  He stares into my eyes, drunk on lust. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

  My breath is stolen by kisses as his body moves, stealing every ounce of control I possess. He grows bigger inside me and I gasp, stretched wide, toes curling. He moves his hands to touch me, my breasts and my bum, my legs… as he rocks into me with long, sure strikes.

  “Oh, god,” I groan, letting my hands wander his back, his skin so soft for a man.

  I grab his thick arse and dig my nails in, shrieking when he plunges into me faster, the bed rocking and my body his to own. I can’t move, he’s so heavy and has me possessed.

  He fucks me faster and I grit my teeth, holding on, my pelvic floor on fire.

  “You want my cream inside you, Lily?” he says, his voice gravelly.

  “I want it in my mouth. After you make me come hard.”

  “Ah, fuck.”

  He ruts into me until my eyes have rolled into the back of my head and I’m losing the will to live – everything inside me is screaming for that ultimate release and it hurts so much.

  He gets on his knees and throws my legs over his shoulders, taking me from a different angle. The bed is squeaking so loudly, I fear it’ll rattle off its hinges.

  He pounds me hard and I start to shake, the noises coming out of my mouth almost embarrassing. The next thing I know, he pushes my knees towards my chest and I’m exposed, spread, his eyes looking down at all of me on display.

  “Slow down,” I ask him, staring into his eyes. “Take it slow. I’m gonna come. Watch.”

  He’s holding the soles of my feet with his hands, keeping me spread, as I take one hand to my breast and put the other on my clit.

  Sweat flies off him as he rears back and plunges into me fully, taking himself root to tip as I stimulate my clit.

  “Do it slow,” I whisper, “feel it. Allow yourself to feel it.”

  We both watch as his thick cock moves in and out, coated in my juices, and he groans louder and louder as he allows himself to feel it. Closing his eyes, he groans and gives himself up to it, throwing his head back, on the cusp.

  “Fuck, yeah… yeah,” I cry, “I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come.”

  His head is thrown back and his skin is impossibly red and sweaty. Here’s the big strong man, weakened by pleasure.

  I ripple along the length of him as he plunges into me, again and again, until eventually he’s unable to concentrate and his movements become more of a jutting.

  Finally, I take the length of him, sucking him into me, coming around his cock – the noises leaving my mouth making him yell, too. I’m beyond gone when I grab his buttocks and urge his cock as deep as possible, the sensation of him pumping his seed into me making me throw my head back and squeeze around him with one, last gasp.

  I realise as we lie together, catching our breath, there will be no way on earth my neighbours didn’t hear that. I was screeching, Paul was groaning loudly, and the bed is almost off its legs.

  I tuck myself against his chest and wrap my leg over him. Paul’s arms fasten around me tight and he catches his breath against my hair. I don’t think I’ve ever fit like this with anyone else, ever before.

  “Sorry I didn’t come in your mouth.”

  “Hey, I’ll take what we just did.”

  He laughs loudly, right against my ear, and it’s the single most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard or felt.

  He feels between my legs and rubs two fingers through my folds. Lifting his hand, he offers it to my mouth and I suck his digits until they’re clean, tasting the salt of his cream mixed with the sweet, musky tang of myself.

  Then we’re kissing again, me on top this time, loving the solidity of him beneath me even as I command his body.

  Chapter Five

  I lift my head slightly and look past his chest to the clock. It’s six a.m., Christmas Day morning. I grumble and bury my face back in his chest, losing myself in his warmth.

  “Uh, Jesus. I’ve still gotta wrap presents,” he grumbles.

  I can’t help but laugh hard. “Me too.”

  Lying in bed with him naked is probably the only thing I will ever need. I wish I could remember it ever being like this with Ian, but it never was. The sex was good in the beginning but he’s never been affectionate, not like Pau
l.

  He pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. “Last night was amazing.”

  “It really was.”

  We didn’t get to sleep until two or three, and I lost count of how many times we did it. In the end we both got so tired, he fell asleep where he lay as we kissed and I nestled into his shoulder, dropping off instantly.

  “I’d better get going or they’ll think I’ve fallen asleep in a park or something.”

  “I’m sure they know you’ve been at a friend’s house. It’s not unusual, right?”

  “Um, no, when I’m in the neighbourhood, I’m always back before two at the latest. Mum’s nerves, you see.”

  He’s a good son, a good friend… a good fuck. What is there that he’s not good at? Oh, yeah… committing.

  He plays with my hair at the same time as I’m stroking his back.

  “I do love you, you know?” he whispers in my ear. “You know that. You know that’s why I’ve been trying to be in touch all year. You know how I feel.”

  I curl into him even tighter, trying to fight my tears. “But you’re not ready for a relationship.”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

  I push my face into his chest, shaking as I cry silently.

  “You’re amazing, Lily. You should be with someone better than Ian. You know, none of us have ever liked him. He’s a bit of a twat.”

  I ignore his tone of voice – conceited, with a hint of arrogance.

  “Did you sleep with me to save me or something?” I lurch up in bed, trying to catch the sheet against my chest.

  He laughs it off, but that only makes me feel worse.

  “Lil, you know I’m here with you because I care, because I don’t want to see you end up living a lie with him.”

  “It’s temporary,” I growl, “until you sort yourself out and realise what it is you want.”

  He throws himself out of bed and dashes to the living room, pulling on his underwear, then his jeans and t-shirt. He’s looking for his socks and I’ve found my robe by the time we realise we’re not alone in the flat. The kettle is boiling in the kitchen.

  Suddenly, Ian’s in the doorway, drying a mug on a tea towel.

  “I think yas better explain,” he says, in his deadpan Irish brogue.

  How much did he see? Did he only just get in? What the fuck’s going on?

  “You’re meant to be in Ireland.”

  “Ferries got cancelled. Bad weather. I drove through the night so I could be here with you in the morning. Should’ve stayed in a hotel and waited for the weather to pass.”

  Ian gives me a look but never once turns his attention to Paul.

  Ian and Paul came to blows in the past when Paul made a silly comment about the potato famine. Ian had to be pulled off Paul by three of our mates, all big and strong.

  Ian has a side to him… a dark side.

  I know the potato famine is nothing to joke about, but Paul was young, being silly… drunk. He didn’t know what he was saying. They could have talked it out, Ian could have educated him, but instead it quickly turned into a brawl and Paul was taken to a medical centre for three stiches across his eye. Looking back, with hindsight, I wonder if their quarrel wasn’t about more than potatoes – did Ian suspect then that Paul has a thing for me?

  Ian has never laid a finger on me, but he has hurt me in other ways.

  If looks could kill, Ian’s would kill me. He doesn’t care one bit about Paul. It’s me he’s pissed off with. I let another guy into our flat.

  Ian leaves the room and Paul comes towards me.

  “I’d better go,” he says. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

  “Yep.”

  “Sure you’ll be okay?” he asks, his hand involuntarily going to the scar near his eyebrow.

  “I’m still going to Mum and Dad’s, I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll call you,” Paul says, leaving in a hurry.

  My heart can’t take it once he’s gone and I rush into the bathroom, lock the door then flick on the shower. Under the water, I cry and cry.

  Once I’m clean, I leave the bathroom in my robe and enter the bedroom. The bedlinen is upside down and it really does look as if a tornado whipped through here. Ian must be so angry with me.

  From the wardrobe, I pull out the gifts I bought my family and instead of wrapping them, I shove them inelegantly into some old gift bags. I’m sure they will understand – I have been busy with a new job and everything, after all.

  I was going to buy a gift for Ian and give it to him when he got back after the New Year, but I doubt that will be happening now.

  I start getting dressed when he appears at the doorway. He stands there with his arms folded, staring at me as if I’m nothing.

  “How long, Lily?” he asks, his voice like death.

  I don’t look at him. “Just last night.”

  “You expect me to believe you?”

  “Believe what you like.”

  “You two have had something going on for ages.”

  “We’re friends, that’s all. He gave me something last night I’ve been missing.”

  He swoops across the room and has his hand raised by the time I turn around and wonder what the hell he’s doing. Poised to strike, but for some reason he doesn’t.

  In this moment, I see the truth I’ve been blind to for so long. In his eyes I see hatred and coldness. I see nothing. Just an emotionless, deceitful, twisted man who won’t hit me because it would prove to me, and to himself, what he’s really like beneath all that charm and education. An intellectual maybe, but he’s abusive, and I figured it out months ago. That’s why I stopped sucking up to him; that’s why he stopped making an effort to fuck me. I’d figured him out.

  “Go on, hit me, Ian,” I goad. “It’s not as though you haven’t already done enough, huh? Making me feel like shit. We’re not good together.”

  He steps back and looks at the floor, mumbling, “We’re over.”

  I guess that’s that.

  Chapter Six

  New Year’s Eve. I’m beneath my duvet, avoiding everything and everyone. Even my mum and dad have gone down to the pub and I’m still in my bed, where I’ve been for the past few days.

  My older sister Lauren is out with her boyfriend, too and I’m no longer the smug younger sister with a proper live-in boyfriend and all. I’m the dumb idiot who just moved back home.

  The doorbell rings and I groan, burying my head under the pillows. Who the fuck is it? Has to be some little twats messing about.

  However, the doorbell is pressed again and knocking follows. Whoever is out there is persistent.

  Ten minutes later, I still haven’t left my bed to go downstairs. My mobile phone is off but the house phone has been ringing and the ASBO outside has even resorted to clanging the letterbox in a bid to get my attention.

  When stones are thrown at my window, that’s when I really can’t ignore it any longer. If they don’t fuck off soon, I’m calling the police.

  Leaping out of bed, I drag on my fluffy robe and slippers and storm downstairs.

  “I’m calling the police you ASBO cunt!” I yell, rushing at the front door, my only intention to shout at whoever is behind it.

  “For god’s sake, it’s ME!” he yells through the letterbox, his shadow looming on the other side of the glass door.

  I take a deep breath and try to breathe as the weight of all this drags me down even more, my shoulders sagging.

  “Please, leave me alone,” I shout, hoping he’ll just go.

  “I am gonna get arrested if you don’t let me in, Lily. The neighbours are peering through the curtains.”

  Great, another reason for me to feel guilty…

  Instead of letting him potentially get arrested, I fling open the door for him, not even hanging around to lock the door behind him once he’s inside. He can do as he pleases, so long as there are no arrests involved. I storm upstairs, throw myself back into bed and pull the covers up around my ears.

  I hear the front d
oor close shut and him turning the key in the lock, then place it back on the hook on the wall. Great, he plans to stay. Great. Then there are the expected heavy footsteps on the stairs and then I hear him breathing, in the same room as me.

  “God, you’re so fucking noisy. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Yeah, and you’re antisocial when you want to be. Everyone was asking where the bloody hell you are tonight. You never miss New Year’s Eve.”

  The other night, after what happened with Ian, I deleted all my social media accounts and switched off my phone, put a snooty out-of-office on my emails and bedded down. Fuck them all.

  I don’t have any words for Paul today. He can go screw himself, too.

  “What happened with Ian? Your sister was the one who said you’d moved home, by the way.”

  Good old Lauren, dobbing me in yet again.

  “You can go now. You’ve checked I’m alive. Now go.”

  “I’m going nowhere.”

  I bury myself almost fully beneath the covers, leaving just my nose poking out for air.

  He sits on the edge of the bed, his weight dipping the mattress.

  “I’m not going back to the party. I can’t even enjoy myself thinking about it all,” he continues. “The way he looked so dead inside. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  I don’t know what’s worse really – that they all hated Ian and never properly warned me about him, or that I was too stupid to recognise what a bastard he was.

  “I spent Christmas here like I said I was going to and went back to the flat on Boxing Day. When I got there, I saw he’d piled all my shit outside the door of the flat. In the corridor, for anybody to pick at or pilfer. All of it. Like I meant nothing to him. Never had done. He’d also changed the locks. Even wrote me a note saying Fuck you, bitch. Like a note made it all legit or something. Like he had a real reason to treat me like that, even before I ever slept with you, because he was doing little things like that even before… and I wrote it off as him being stressed or whatever, but he was a dick… and I lived with him. I used to love him!”