Chapter 211


    Instead focus on my little feisty girl, that I couldn’t love more if I tried. I love winding her up in every


    way, just to pull out a reaction. She is one of the least feminist rights girls I know, but she does like to


    maintain her right to do as she pleases, regardless of sex.


    “Mm, hmmm.” I press my lips together, holding in the urge to smile when she lookspletely enraged


    and aims another p my way. “Hey! I was agreeing with you.” I catch her hand mid-air, warmed by the


    jokiness between us and bend in impulsively, so intent on silencing that stroppy little mouth with


    wickedness. I pull her in against me as I tilt my head to get really close, still torn between aching to kiss


    her, and trying to be a gentleman where she is always concerned.


    Drink is killing me with the amorous urges, but I am still too sober to bypass the side of me who cares


    too much, so I end up close, but not going through with it. I do however get a buzz from being


    intimately close enough to go either way, all touchy and pressed together and the widening look in her


    eyes as pupils dte makes me stir back to the sexual tension from before. She makes me crazy, so


    easily.


    “Rabid kitten!” I know my tone is flirty; I can’t deny right now I ampletely flirting with her, and as


    alien as it is to do so with Sophie, it feels kind of good too. Natural, subtly sexual, and a lot of touchy


    feely, is safer than full blown thoughts of sex and kissing. Maybe I should stop over analyzing this and


    go with the flow tonight, see where flirting takes me, rx a little and get used to this weird new


    dimension between us. Maybe if I get to the club and drink some more, then I will stop always pulling


    my brain apart with doubts and see how we go. Not against kissing her again if that’s where this is


    going to head, I just need less thinking, more doing.


    I kiss her on the temple, after contemting one on the mouth, letting my hand slide down her small


    straight back until Ind on the curve of her ass and stop. I hesitate about going lower, feeling her up


    and seeing how far I can go with this, but something inside of me stops me. That eternal part of me that


    can never step beyond that line when ites to her. Even when we kissed, I was always holding back


    from going one step further.


    Sophie leans into my body unexpectedly, sagging against me and despite it igniting the horniness


    again, it also ignites the part of me that wants to take care of her. The deep ingrained part who wants to


    shield her from sordid mess and horny men, even if it’s me, and I have to curb the urge to sigh at how


    easily she just cooled my libido. Like a bucket of cold water dousing out the mes of passion, even


    though I can tell that was not her intention. Sophie is a major head fuck in every way.


    She snuggles up against me, a good height for doing so in those crazily high shoes, and I really do find


    myself torn between two really hard ces, as I cuddle her in snugly. I look down at that angelic face,


    innocent eyes, and wless beauty, so much trust and belief that I would never hurt her, and it kills me


    in one fell swoop. How can one girl make me crazy with longing at the same time as killing my fire for


    her, with overwhelming guilt, and a need to not let this happen? My eyes roam to the mouth I want to


    kiss more than anything in the world, but I just can’t. I’m in protector mode and she is too pure, too


    sweet, to even contemte defiling.


    “Asshole.” She spits back sassily, reminding me of all the millions of memories that we have together,


    how often we have been this way. yful and rxed, real best friends.


    You don’t cross a line with your best friend. Especially one who needed you to not be like every other


    guy in the world. Especially when you held her sobbing in your arms, when she let out all the sordid shit


    that her father ever did to her. But then, your best friend shouldn’t be giving you the undying need to


    slide up her dress and fuck her up against an elevator wall, and deny it all I want, I can’t keep my head


    from straying there over and over tonight.


    That dress has knocked me for six on her, the sultry make up and sleek hair. The way she keeps


    pouting at me, all eyes and seductive mouth, and I am getting strong vibes that she wants me to kiss


    her too. She is hardly acting like the demure sweet kid I am used to right now, every movement and


    mannerism, every touch between us in thest few minutes. Sophie is almost giving me free reign to


    take her, and I can’t ignore it. My Casanova radar is still fully functioning, from years of ying the field,


    and I know stronge ons when I get them, probably why I’m malfunctioning on all levels. I already


    know how she feels about me, so this would be like takingplete advantage of her.


    “What happened to Massive Douchebag, I liked that one, it has a sexy ring to it.” I nudge her


    suggestively with my hip, so she is knocked away slightly, biting on my lip to curb the urge to drag her


    back and follow through with sliding my hands up those thighs under her short coat, and figure hugging


    dress. Sophies eyes go straight to my mouth and it’s like a jolt to my crotch, burning my dick into


    another impending erection I have no control over. I thank god for wearing my longer jacket and hiding


    my misdemeanors from her. For the first time in life I thank my dad for giving me his poker face, and


    skills at never really letting people know what’s going on in my head from sight alone. It’s the only thing


    saving us from each other.


    Fuck, I want her.


    “You are all of the above and much, much, more.” She frowns at me, I can’t tell if it’s because she’s


    being yful, or because I haven’t followed through on all her little sexy signals to kiss her. The air is


    static with the tension between us, and whether she is aware she is doing it or not, Sophie is giving me


    thee to bed eyes crazily bad, in this moment. My body stirs to fever pitch and I p her ass to


    propel her out of the elevator a little more aggressively that I meant too. It’s a knee jerk reaction to


    create distance before I start humping her into a corner and throw all caution to the wind. I haven’t


    been this hormonal since puberty, and it’s unnerving as hell.


    She yelps as I let go of her hand and watch her totter on high shoes onto the polished floor, worried for


    a second she might fall, as I tense in readiness to catch her. She doesn’t and straightens to a normal


    graceful saunter ahead of me that brings my eyes back to her ass. I need to put distance between us,


    before I rip open her dress and just let go of any doubts. At this rate, and this head mess she brings out


    in me, I am going to end up exhausted before we get out.


    I follow her out of the elevator and catch up with her from behind, sliding my hand back around hers as


    we pass Frank, the desk security near the door. Even when I want distance, I can’t override the urge to


    touch her and somehow end up attached to her once more. I nod his way with a smile, raring to get out


    with my favorite girl, to let off some of this steam and maybe not be alone for much longer, while I’m


    this weak. All this crazy sexual tension aside, I really need a night kicking back and hanging out with


    my friends to mellow. It’s been a stressful few weeks, and I miss the times I used to take Sophie along,


    just us and them to have a good time without all this confusion. She’s always been so easy to hang out


    with and I never had a bad night when she was my date in the past. Well, not date,panion, side


    kick, partner in crime.


    Before Natasha, Sophie was almost my constantpanion and I loved my life back then. No worries,


    no stress or torn up head with two women vying for my heart. Life was so much easier.


    “Have a good night, Mr. Carrero, Miss. Huntsberger.” Frank nods our way and holds out a candy for


    Sophs. She effortlessly wraps people around her little finger, it’s one of her most mesmerizing gifts and


    it seems my doorman isn’t any different. I watch her skip towards him proudly, heart swelling with the


    knowledge that despite her childhood, she has an infectiousness about her that people swarm to. She’s


    loveable, easy to like, and that smile could win anyone around, even my father who doesn’t just take to


    anyone so easily. She makes a little squeal noise of excitement, happy childishness, to ept her gift


    from him.


    I watch her appreciatively, marvel at how warm she always makes me feel inside when she is being


    this way, and it adds another notch to the conflicting shit in my head.


    “Thank you, Mr. Frankie, always a pleasure. Tell Mrs. Frankie. I said hi.” She giggles cutely, all her


    mannerisms are dainty and elegant, and I marvel at once upon a time, when she was all clumsy


    tomboy and two left feet. She has changed a lot in six years, and I am only just starting to see how


    much. She ended up as the swan, although she was never an ugly duckling, just an uncoordinated


    cy.


    “Strawberry whirl. Your favorite. Been keeping you one for a few days now.” He throws her a paternal


    smile, adoration on show, and I tug at the back of her jacket to hurry her along. Eager to get to our


    destination and down a few more drinks to let fate do as it pleases. I’m tired of always battling with my


    own head and suddenly, I don’t want to do it anymore. I want to get fucked up drunk, and do whatever


    feels right, even if that is cornering my best friend in a nightclub and making good on how horny she


    makes me feel. My mind is made up and I won’t be deviating from the n of going to the club and


    drinking my doubts away.


    “You too, Frank, we shouldn’t be toote. This one has a curfew.” I nod at the back of her head, pulling


    her with me as I head to the door, so she follows closely. Curfew isn’t exactly true. However long it


    takes to get drunk and see where this goes, is more likely. I will carry her back here in an hour if that’s


    all it takes to want to be naked with her.


    ncing back to make sure she ising, I almost stop breathing when I watch her slide the


    confectionary on a stick, into her mouth. I swear my mind goes to the one ce I never in a million


    years imagined I would visualize Sophs, and again have to battle the shoot up in body heat and blood


    temp, and tear my gaze from that teasing mouth before I selfbust or groan out loud. My pants are


    getting a good stretch out tonight, from the amount of times I have been hard and had to talk myself


    down again. I wonder how much damage my dick can incur from several hard ons in a row that never


    get relief.


    I clear my throat ufortably, chastising myself for imagining her with those lips around a part of my


    anatomy that I am having a tough time controlling. Inward steady breaths and visualizing naked men to


    cool myself down again. One quick way tobat an erection, is to imagine my best mate Nate, naked


    and ready to go, that always does the trick. I have never doubted my sexuality at all, and any man


    ready to impale something with a hard on, gets me soft in quick time.


    We get out onto the street and the doorman, holding the door for us, motions to the yellow cab sitting


    patiently on the curb I asked him to have waiting for us. I lead her out to the open the door for her,


    unable to resist whipping that lollipop out of her mouth as she gets in and sticking it in my own with an


    evil smile. Teasing Sophs is still the highlight of my life and I doubt it will ever grow old. I love her


    reactions and the ability I have to do it any time I want. I suck it a little and it tastes of strawberries and


    her, well the memory I have of kissing her and the stirrings in my groin only get stronger. I curse myself


    and have to redraw on my naked Nate, to once again bring it back down.


    The memory of how she tastes haunts me already, but this reminds me of how sweet she is. How much


    I want to taste her over and over and it only strengthens this n I have forming, of getting fully drunk


    and seeing where this goes. Tired of all this shit.


    “Hey! That’s mine.” Sophie frowns at me, not amused and I smile back. I close her door on her and


    skirt the back of the cab, to get in the other side, smirking at her cute little frowning face as I slide in


    beside her. The cab already smells of her perfume and it’s pretty heady in closed confines. Petnt


    little miss. Sexy little minx. Sophie whips the candy out of my mouth, with a little screwed up nose look,


    and sticks it back in her own. No cares about the fact we just shared saliva and it makes me wish we


    could actually do that instead of sharing a lollipop. She looks kissable as hell right now and if I wasn’t


    trying to be the good guy eternally, I would have my tongue in her mouth instead of her lollipop.


    “I have herpes.” I nudge her, flirting again, because I can’t help myself and yank my door shut. I lean


    forward and give the cab driver the nightclub address we are going too, overly aware of her sitting so


    close to me and sink back to let this warm fuzzy feeling from the vodka flow over me again.


    “Yum! Add it to the ever-growing list of weird stuff Arrick Carrero has given me over the years.” Sophie


    eyes me up, mocking me sassily.


    “You’re wee.” I wink at her, eyes moving back to that mouth as she goes back to sucking on that


    candy, and I swear I feel it in my pants. I know this is getting out of control and I need to calm this shit


    down, because I’m acting like some prepubescent teen with the serious horn. If I don’t put an end to


    this, I will end up dry humping her on the seat while groping the life out of her and smothering her half


    to death with my tongue down her throat. I have honestly never felt this crazy wound up in a long time.


    Even if my mind is set, I can still be ssy about my route to getting shit faced and fucking her.


    If I fuck her! Steady on, Arry. Where the hell are all your morals right now?


    I go to staring out of the window and give myself a seriously needed pep talk, and lecture. How this


    shouldn’t be happening, that my head needs to stay on track and cut this bullshit out where she is


    concerned. As hard as it is, or my dick may be, I cannot allow myself to turn into this much of an


    asshole, and I need to remind myself again.


    Natasha!!! The girl I am so easy to dismiss nowadays, might actually be there tonight!


    Something I haven’t taken a moment to even think about. We have the same circle of friends, and I


    need to remember, that even though we broke up, I told her I needed time to sort my head out and


    there is still a chance for us. I haven’t been acting that way tonight and I should be fucking ashamed of


    myself instead of hatching ns to fuck another girl. I am literally dragging both along, whilemitting


    to neither and this isn’t who I am at all. I reach for Sophie impulsively, not really gauging where Iy my


    hand as I feel warm, soft body, under my palm, and cup what feels like her leg. I want to touch her; it


    gives me a sense of calm andpletion like nothing else does. More so since this craziness between


    us started, and if I could focus on nothing for the rest of the night, it would help a lot.


    I have a tidal wave of guilt eating at my insides now I have brought Tash to the forefront of my mind,


    and surprisingly, or maybe not, the urge to fuck anyone, dies with her face appearing in my head. The


    irony of Natasha killing my sexual urge is not lost on me.


    N?vel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive ? material.


    I get lost in my own thoughts, about her, us, all of us, this crap, as I watch the streets and lights swim


    by, trying so hard to bring my focus out of this mess, and back on not being aplete horny asshole


    tonight. Screw my n to see where this goes. I need to stay sober and make a decision about where


    my life is heading and end this. I have no clue why I am having so much more of a problem with it


    tonight... well, maybe I do. Ever since Sophie walked out wearing that dress, it’s all I can think about.


    Sophie has grown into a woman that can turn heads easily. Every curve and line makes men want her,


    and that face was made to mesmerize and disarm any red hot-blooded male. I’m no different, and I


    should be protecting her from jack asses like me, rather than joining them in wanting to screw her.


    The cab ms to a halt suddenly, shocking both of us out of our silence and I tense my hand on her leg


    in a bid to brace her as I feel her slide forward in her seat, thanks to that satin dress on leather. Sophie


    bodily crashes forward, stopped by my arm in front of her as I go rigid to act as a barrier for her


    instinctively, and its only when she gasps weirdly, that I look down and realize my hand on her body, is


    not on leg and dress. I have my hand between her thighs and that heat and smoothce I can feel


    pressed hard into my palm, is where my skin and fingers are molded perfectly to the apex between her


    legs. I almost groan as our eyes meet rapidly, both mortified at the intimate, unexpected contact.


    I yank my hand away fast, not sure how else I should react in this moment, and it no longer feels like it


    did minutes ago, when I was telling myself I wanted to fuck her. This hits me in the gut like a freight


    train that I just groped my little Sophie. The girl who endured so much sordid shit and abuse through


    her entire life and it makes me feel sick to my stomach that I even did that to her. It’s wrong on so many


    fucking levels and sobers me up in a nanosecond.


    Nothing brings back a hit of reality than actually taking a step out of fantasy and making shit real.


    Sophie wriggles in her seat to haul her dress back down where it hitched up and get back into position.


    I keep my eyes anywhere but her, as heat mes through me and I chastise myself for literally doing


    the absolute worst to her that I could do tonight. Groping her, even if I didn’t mean it, without her


    permission, is no better than what that asshole made her endure for years, or any of the pricks I saved


    her from in nightclubs for thest two.


    “Sorry.” I have no clue what else to say to her. She trusts me to never cross this line and I literally had


    my hand between her legs and cupped her in a way that only a lover should ever do. I re out of the


    window, beating myself up, pissed as hell that I crossed this line without even trying too. She isn’t that


    girl to me, and this makes that painfully clear once again, maybe once and for all, that I cannot go


    there.


    Sophie wriggles about the seat a little more and I look her way, armed with a speech to settle the


    shame, or weirdness she is probably feeling. Except I am rendered silent when I see that rosy blush on


    her cheeks, the half-smile, and naughty look in her eyes; of the cat who got the cream, and it hits me


    like a lead ton weight, that she actually liked it. She looks happy.


    It has the same effect as her pushing her own hand in my pants, and I tense to curb the reaction it


    gives me, all thoughts from seconds ago doing aplete U-turn on the power of that one expression


    on her. She controls me like a puppet, and I am only starting to see how easily she can. I know I’m


    throwing her a loaded look, self-control going to hell, and dick back to being hard, headpletely on


    fucking her in this moment once again and try to reel it back a little. She has no idea the power she


    holds, and I wonder if alcohol is probably the worst idea when I am around her.


    I went to shit after those two drinks, and my head has been ces I never allow normally, all over the


    shop. Sophie throws me a sweet, yet cheeky smile, that seems to say, ‘it was nothing’ and I am


    completely torn suddenly, mood nose diving at a rate of noughts. I want to beat shit out of the guys who


    have pulled this move on her, that makes her think it’s no big deal, with a rage that seriously threatens


    to engulf me inside and out.


    I hold it in, hating that this is nothing to her, and try to calm the inward war with rationality. Chastising


    myself, that might not even be what she means, and wondering how I can get so crazy mad, with only


    a look of indifference about this.


    Is this jealousy? Is that what this is?


    I take a moment to pull my head together, and it dawns on me that this might not be that at all. This


    might be because she trusts me, and knows it was idental, and I already know she doesn’t abhor


    my touch. I sigh inwardly, trying to calm the fury and overwhelming sickness in my gut, cool my temper


    and mind, sliding my hand to find hers and encase it in my fingers in a bid to calm myself down on


    every level. No one stills me like she does, and as I entwine our fingers, I find that sense of quiet and


    calm amidst the storm that Sophie always gives me, and push all the other shit out of my head as I see


    the nightclub looming up ahead.


    Deep breaths, clearing my mind and looking for calm. That inner rage is still dwindling inside my


    stomach like a glowing fire, but her soft warm hand encased in mine brings me that sense of peace and


    rationality, the need to turn protector and carer and I nce her way momentarily. The sweetness and


    purity that is my girl only serves to bring me down further. Her innocent little look and smile has me


    rxing once more, and I remind myself that no assholes would ever do that to her and make her so


    sé about it.


    What that asshole did to her, that made her more sensitive than the average girl, would never allow her


    to be sé about any sexual contact, and I am seriously overthinking this. I am Jealous, and it’s


    making me irrational.


    She trusts me, she knows me, and she just put that down to a little mishap that she maybe didn’t hate.


    She already made it clear that she wants more between us, so her reaction isn’t exactly a shock. That’s


    all that was, nothing more. Me being overly sensitive because I’m jealous when ites to her and


    other guys, and now I am back to square one, with how messy my feelings for her are.