Dare To Love - Lylah James Page 0,118

him. In all the years we’d known each other, I’d never seen his parents celebrate his birthday. No hugs, no love, no affection. It made me angry, so furious with the way they always treated Maddox.

He deserved better.

He wasn’t as complicated as everyone thought. Maddox Coulter was just a misunderstood boy who needed and deserved someone to fight for him – to show him that he was worth it.

And I was going to be that person. Even if I couldn’t do it as his lover, I was going to do it as his best friend, at least.

Because, truly, he was worth all the love – all the love he never had but deserved.

“I’ve never been to Paris,” I finally confessed.

Maddox finally cracked a sincere smile. “I know, and you’re going to love it.”

City of love. And two best friends who didn’t have the courage to acknowledge whatever this was between them.

What were the odds? Fate really did like to play cruel jokes on us.

I dragged my nails over my thighs. “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow night. That’s enough time for you to pack, right?” Maddox asked, walking further into my apartment, but still keeping a distance between us.

I nodded and then patted the couch. “Join me. I’m watching Friends. It’s the pivot scene.”

Maddox looked indecisive, a troubled tension hanging between us.

Please say yes.

Please don’t leave me. Again.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement, and his eyes flickered to me and then the TV. Relief coursed through my veins when he took a step toward me and settled on the couch beside me, not saying a word.

A moment passed between us, I smiled – almost a timid smile, and we turned to face the TV at the same time.

A few minutes later, the brutal tension dissolved, and our shoulders shook with silent laughter at the scene we were watching. Our knees were touching, the briefest touch, but my skin tingled. My pulse raced like a freight train, and my heart palpitated; he was laughing, and I was laughing, and the world had never felt so right in that mere second.

I wanted to cherish this moment, so afterward, years later, when Maddox and I had been torn apart by our unspoken feelings, I’d remember what it felt like to be this close to him.

Later that night, sleep didn’t come easy. I tossed and turned, thinking about Maddox and our upcoming trip to Paris. Was this going to be a mistake? Maybe. Probably.

But I couldn’t say no, and I wanted to spend this time with him.

Just the two of us.

The ache between my legs was back again, my body tensing with frustration.

Ever since that night – the night Maddox was drunk, my body had been on fire, burning, skin tight with need and aching.

And no matter how much I masturbated, I still felt so empty after, never fully satisfied.

My clit swelled and throbbed. Reaching over, I grabbed my second pillow and pressed it between my legs. My eyes squeezed shut as I rocked my hips, back and forth, against the pillow, trying to alleviate the pulsing ache in my pussy. I underestimated how much I wanted Maddox.

My need intensified, and I throbbed harder. Pushing a hand between my thighs, I shoved my panties aside, and my fingers grazed my folds, pushing my wet lips apart and then moving higher to my swollen clit. I rubbed and pressed against the bundle of nerves there, while grinding my pussy faster against the pillow, rubbing my exposed, sensitive flesh against the soft fabric. The friction almost had me losing my mind, but it still wasn’t…enough.

My hand matched the rhythm of my hips. My index finger probed my entrance, and when my pussy clenched, seeking to be filled, I slowly thrust my finger inside. Oh God, oh God!

My breath hitched, and I grew hotter, my sticky wetness dripping between my legs – a reminder of how wrong this was, but I still moaned out Maddox’s name.

I pinched my clit, rocking my hips faster. I imagined it was Maddox between my legs. I imagined it was his cock pushing against my entrance, not my small fingers.

I imagined him pulsing inside me, filling me… thrusting inside… grunting out my name.

My body tightened, and my hips jerked against the pillow as I rode out my mini orgasm; my panties were drenched and my fingers wet and coated with my release. A low whine spilled from my lips, “Maddox.”

I rubbed my finger over my wet folds, imagining it was his

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