Chapter 1: The Heat of Proximity
I’m Belle, and I’ll be the first to admit I’ve got a mind that could make a sailor blush. My thoughts are a constant stream of filthy fantasies, and I’m not sorry about it. Living with my best friend, Riley, in this cramped little house doesn’t help. Every damn day, I’m surrounded by his scent, his laugh, the way his shirt clings to his shoulders after a workout. It’s torture, and I’m a masochist for loving it.
This morning, I’m in the kitchen, sipping coffee, when Riley stumbles in, hair a mess, wearing nothing but low-slung sweatpants. My eyes zero in on the V-line dipping below the waistband, and I nearly choke on my drink. 'Morning, perv,' he teases, catching my stare. His voice is gravelly from sleep, and it sends a jolt straight between my thighs.
'Don’t flatter yourself, pretty boy,' I shoot back, leaning against the counter with a smirk. 'I’ve seen better.' It’s a lie, and he knows it. My gaze is shameless, raking over him like I’m already undressing him in my head—which, let’s be honest, I am.
He steps closer, grabbing a mug from the cabinet above me, his body brushing against mine. I can feel the heat radiating off him, and my breath hitches. 'You’re drooling, Belle,' he murmurs, his lips twitching into a cocky grin. 'Want a taste of something other than that coffee?'
I laugh, sharp and biting, pushing against his chest with just enough force to make a point. 'Oh, honey, if I wanted a taste, you’d be begging me to stop.' My voice drips with challenge, and I see the spark in his eyes. Game on.
'Big talk for someone who’s all bark and no bite,' he counters, leaning in until his mouth is inches from mine. My heart’s pounding, but I’m not backing down. I’m no damsel, and I sure as hell don’t play submissive.
'Try me, Riley,' I purr, my hand sliding up his arm, fingers digging into his bicep. 'I bite hard.' The air between us crackles, thick with tension. I can feel myself getting wet just from the way he’s looking at me, like he’s ready to devour me whole.
He grabs my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I can feel how hard he is through those damn sweatpants. 'Careful, Belle,' he growls, his breath hot against my ear. 'Keep talking like that, and I’ll have you bent over this counter before you can blink.'
My pussy clenches at his words, and I tilt my head back, meeting his gaze with a wicked smile. 'Promises, promises,' I taunt, my voice low and dripping with lust. I’m horny as hell, and I’m not about to let him think he’s got the upper hand.
His grip tightens, and in one swift move, he spins me around, pressing me against the counter. My ass pushes back against him instinctively, and I hear his sharp intake of breath. We’re both panting now, the room suddenly too small, too hot. I’m sweating, aching for more, and I know he can feel how much I want this.
'Fuck, Belle,' he mutters, his hands sliding down my hips. 'You’re gonna be the death of me.'
'Good,' I hiss, turning my head to catch his lips in a bruising kiss, ready to take this to an explosive edge.
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