Between Friends

Chapter 8

Any prior debate I had with myself over this moment is completely gone. Ben and I have officially broken rule #1 of the male and female friendship code, for the second time in just three short days. Ben’s strong warm body presses up against mine and his hands wander all over. His touch is so foreign yet familiar and I don't want it to stop. He kisses me with conviction, and I kiss him back feeling a little light headed. He pulls away and trails a streamline of tiny kisses down my neck. I moan and run my fingers through his thick dark hair, inhaling his sweet-smelling shampoo.

With his free hand, he unclips my bra and exposes my breasts. A small part of me feels vulnerable and uncertain, but I don’t stop him when he drops my dress to the floor. His breathing quickens and our eyes lock, brown on blue. I can see how badly he wants this, how badly he wants me. His face is serious and sexy when he yanks me off my feet and squeezes my thighs. I wrap my legs around his waist and slide my arms around his neck, feeling calm and secure as he carries me to the bed.

I tingle all over when he releases me onto the pillows and I watch him quickly yank off his tight grey shirt. I admire his amazingly firm six-pack rippling on his tanned stomach as he leans over me and places his soft lips back on mine. I feel this crazy feeling welling up inside me when I move my hands over his smooth muscular back all the way down to his hips.

“Holy f*ck Megan,” he murmurs in my ear as he places his hands on either side of my head.

He runs his fingers through my hair and I crumble beneath him, quivering with both excitement and fear. I am so ready for him that I start to find my fingers trailing slowly to unbutton his jeans. He stops me and grabs both of my hands and pins them above my head. Then slowly, he moves downwards kissing every inch of my body. We are both breathing fast and hard as I cling to him and feel a rush of euphoria burn right through me.

He puts his mouth back on mine and sucks at my bottom lip, “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this since the last time.” Ben mumbles and moves his hands down to the inside of my legs and pushes them apart. He slides my panties to the side and starts kissing right there. I am going crazy, just dying to seal the deal when he slips them off and leaves me completely naked. His ability to multitask is both impressive yet worrisome as he unbuttons his jeans and kisses me with his lips. I am practically begging him and aching so badly from the quickening welling all over my body, “Ben, please.” I moan.

He smiles against my neck knowing exactly what I want, lowers his body over mine, and enters inside me. When he moves, I move with him, when he moans I feel the same pleasure, but when it is all said and done, we are both left completely satisfied.

I pull the covers up to my chin, suddenly feeling extremely exposed. Even despite the fact that only seconds ago, he was inside me. Ben on the other hand is anything but shy. He turns to face me, props his elbow up on the pillows and rests his head on the palm of his hand, “Megan, I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Somewhere deep inside me, I want to tell him I can’t stop thinking about him either. But my guard immediately goes up and points out the obvious, “This is so wrong.”

Ben takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and bites his bottom lip. The silence seems to last forever, but in reality it has only been a few seconds when he re-opens his eyes, “What is so wrong about it?”

I laugh and toss my hair back, thinking he can’t be serious. But when I look back at him, his face is stricken with grief, “Where do I start? First of all, we are supposed to be friends, not bang buddies! Second of all, you know as well as I do that sex only complicates everything. Look at Matthew and Michelle. Do you want to end up like that? I know I sure don’t.”

Ben contemplates my comparison and lets out a long sigh, “It doesn’t have to be like that.”





“Why? Because this is just some casual sex between friends?” I snap, wrapping the covers around my body and sit up on the bed. Ben knows just as well as I do, that the only way not to end up like Matthew and Michelle right now, is to clearly define what this is. But I don’t know if he can ever do that.

Ben rolls his eyes and reaches over the bed to stop me from getting up, but I slip through his fingers, bend down and snatch up my bra. He lets out a sigh of defeat, gets up and puts on his underwear. I peak over at him and watch his lean muscular chest while he tugs on his light wash denim jeans and buttons them up. He catches me glaring at him and says, “You know I don’t see it that way.”

“Then what is it Ben? Were you suddenly bored of banging bleach-blonde whores that you thought you’d give your brunette best friend a go?” I say watching him run both hands through his hair.

“None of those girls mean anything to me. You know that.” Ben sighs.

“And I do? That’s all you do is have sex with girls. I was probably the only one left you hadn’t screwed!” I scream feeling tears well up in my eyes. I am completely distraught by letting myself turn into one of Ben’s random flings. I know this is ridiculous, and I know I am ruining everything, but I can’t help it. I just don’t understand where all this is coming from.

“That’s how you see me? After all the years we’ve known each other?” Ben says with a hint of disbelief in his eyes. I now feel somewhat ashamed. I suppose I came off a little harsh, but that is exactly what he’s like and maybe he needs to know that. He has always been the guy who counts the notches on his belt, and from his exceptionally experienced performance a few short minutes ago, I am guessing I must be at least number 154.

“Well? What am I supposed to think?” I shout pulling on my panties.

“Megan…” Ben starts to patronize me, but I cut him off.

“You know what, forget it Ben.” I say and slide on my bracelet. I pause hearing nothing but silence from his side of the bed then add, “So what? You didn’t answer me? Am I just your f*ck buddy? Can I see other people?”

“Oh, like Steven?” Ben cockily says and tosses my dress across the bed. I roll my eyes at him and catch it. I shimmy it over my body and avoid his question. He pulls on his tight grey shirt and says, “Because it didn’t seem like you were missing him much about five minutes ago.”

I feel my face burn and I slowly count to ten. I just want to scream at him! See, this is why this is so stupid. He is only proving my point as to why we would never work. We are both too strong willed and too stubborn to admit our feelings ever. I turn my back to him and suck back the tears.

“Shit Megan, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Ben grovels from the other side of the bed.

I whip around and look into his pleading eyes. Their dark gaze draws me in and makes me weak at the knees. He crawls over the bed, sits on the edge then pulls me into his lap. He brushes my hair away from my face, holds it in a loose ponytail and lets out a huge sigh, “Is that what you want? For me to be your f*ck buddy?”

I shrug. Scared to admit what I really want.

He pauses and drops his head into his chest, “You are making this way more complicated than it is.”

“Well whatever it is, I can’t see it ending nicely.” I grunt.

“Why can’t you live in the moment? Why are you always questioning every little thing and expecting the worst?”

I want to slap him. I hate how he calls me out on all of my little issues, all the time.

“Well what are we going to tell everyone?” I sigh, “What am I supposed to tell Steven?”

“Why do we have to tell them anything?” he says kisses my cheek, then laughs, “Besides, Steven who?”

I playfully nudge him, “Well I can’t be sleeping with both of you.”

Ben tilts his head to the side and purses his lips together, “Come on Megan, we all know you are a serial monogamist. You would never - ”

“Exactly” I whine, “That is why I don’t understand any of this. You are making me break all my rules.”

“That’s what I like about you though, you are all self-contained.” Ben smiles and kisses my neck.

I feel myself wanting to attempt round two, but instead I push him away. Ben gives me an innocent stare, but he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“How am I supposed to go in front of all our friends and act like everything is normal?” I pout, and try to push him further on the issue.

He rolls his eyes, “This is between me and you. We are not going to tell them anything. Understand? This is our little secret.”

I scrunch my nose and take in what Ben is suggesting. I am not sure what to make of it, and it makes me a little skeptical on his intentions, “Everyone is probably wondering where we are, and even worse, we are going to walk in late together.”

“You’re the only one with a guilty conscious.” Ben laughs, “We are always together so why would they think that was weird?”

He does have a point there, and I cringe knowing he is right. We are always together, and usually we opt to be that way. With this in mind, Ben suggests we devise a little plan. Because he had already told everyone he needed to leave the bar to get his phone (hence why he was waiting at my door). He saw me wandering back from my date, so I could change into my flats, (which is true). Then we had a couple of drinks at my villa, which we did (while we devised our plan), and finally strolled down to the bar together.

It seemed simple enough…

Ben tells me when our friends ask, I have no business opening my mouth because I will surely screw it up and shout out the truth. I agree to zip my lips, even though I know this lie is going to eat me up inside.

On the way down to the Theatre Bar, Ben doesn’t stop flirting with me. He constantly makes quick little jokes, like he always does to get me going. He nudges me and says I’m like an old maid when it comes to my underwear selection, which I rebut that granny panties are way comfier than a line of dental floss going up my butt. He also jokes about my neurotic behavior and insists the more orgasms he gives me, will definitely clear that up a bit. I laugh at him and tell him to grow up, but he loves every minute of teasing me, especially when I give him playful slap in the arm.

Then before I can even see it coming, he shoves me into a corridor and starts making-out with me. Even though we have both been missing for over two hours now, I can’t bring myself to resist him. It’s also clear he can’t resist me, when he shoves his tongue down my throat. I kiss him back, loving every minute of it. It is so thrilling, impulsive and badass; all the things I am not. Finally, I pull away panting, “We are going to get caught.”

Ben gives me a wicked grin then kisses me again, “You smell so good though.”

Once again, I find myself being sucked right back into his sexual vortex. But when I start to feel his hand slide up my skirt, my legs stiffen and I pull away, “Ben stop. Do want to keep this a secret or not?” I say completely out of breath.

His hands move up to my hips, “I want whatever you want.” He kisses my cheek then adds, “But right now what I really want is to f*ck you - again.”

I place my hands on his forearms, “Not here.”

“Fine.” Ben pouts, “But I just love when I get you all worked up.”

I blush, “Well you’ve always known how to press my buttons.”

Ben leans his arm on the wall behind me and smugly grins, “Now I actually know how to push all of them.”

I roll my eyes at his attempt at self-praise (which I will never let him know, was the most intense orgasm I have ever had). He rubs his finger over my cheek, and gives me one final soft and gentle kiss on my forehead.

When we approach the Theatre Bar, Jessica is leaning on Michael’s shoulder, captivated by the entertainment on the stage. Michelle and Stephanie are in an intense conversation (which I am sure has no more depth than who has the better martini), while at the far end of the table Eric and Matthew, play a game of cards.

“Honestly man? How could it have possibly taken over two hours to find your phone?” Eric shouts over the noise.

“We were ready to send out a search party, if you didn’t show up in the next fifteen minutes.” Michael adds.

“Yay! Megan!” Jessica squeals and runs in my direction. She flings her arms around me and dangles heavily from my neck. Then she points her finger in Ben’s face, “Where were you Mister? How did you two end up together? Weren’t you on a date with Steven?”

Ben and I share an awkward glance before he pipes up and feeds our fabricated story to our friends. It is frightening how easily Ben begins to divulge in our lie. It actually worries me and makes me wonder how he can hide the truth with such poise. But I remind myself this is an unusual circumstance, and I am sure he never has or would ever lie to me.

“Well one of you could have called to let us know you were okay.” Eric says when Ben finishes.

“You’re right, sorry man.” Ben says with deadpan eyes.

“Any-who,” Jessica says with a slur to her voice, “Enough about Ben’s mysterious disappearance and you somehow finding him. What I want to know is how it went with Steven? Did he kiss you?”

“No” I say steadying Jessica on her feet.

Ben’s ears perk up and he lingers beside me to eavesdrop on our conversation.

“Why not?” Jessica shouts, “But he likes you, so why wouldn’t he kiss you?”

“It’s because he’s a gentleman.” I say loud enough for Ben to hear. He rolls his eyes and sits down beside Matthew.

“Well that is true.” Jessica says, and pulls me into the empty chair between her and Michelle. “I saved it for you.” She adds, smiling proudly to herself.

I sit down and see Ben speaking to the server. He points at me and I can tell he has ordered my drink. I smile at him and think; even though we have totally trampled all over our once pure and wholesome friendship that hint of us that was recently missing is back.

I listen to Jessica ramble on and re-cap on how amazing today was with all of us, and how great it was to be together like old times. I agree with her and say I couldn’t have asked for a better day (in more ways than one), and tell her she really is the best friend a girl could ask for. We share a small hug, until I hear Jessica make a sound of astonishment and quickly pull away. I follow her gaze to see the server approaching our table with the drinks Ben ordered. I feel myself turn flush. I can hardly even look at him when the server places a tall and skinny lime margarita on the rocks in front of me. No one in the whole entire world, expect for Ben, knows that I have an emotional attachment to this drink.

When I sold my first property two years ago, Ben and I went to a little Mexican restaurant a few blocks away from Wrigley Field. He was astounded, when I told him the margarita he ordered me, was the first time I had ever had one. After my first sip, I knew I was in love. I thought it was so delicious, and I swore that from now on I would only drink margaritas for all big moments in my life.

Sure enough, I played by my own rules. I stood by my margarita promise and involved Ben in my personal tradition. Like when I passed my broker exam, we went out and drank margaritas. When I bought my condo, Ben came over with some store bought mix and we drank margaritas. Even when Marco broke up with me, for the hundredth but final time - I went over to Ben’s crying, and he made us margaritas.

Ben raises his glass in my direction from the opposite end of the table, and I give him a coy smile. Jessica waves the server over, “You better get the whole table a round of those! That drink just screams celebration!”

As Ben and I silently toast each other in the dim lighting of the bar, I know deep inside he knows as well as I do that what happened in my villa only a few short hours ago is nothing short of a margarita moment.