he traveled. He did mention he was trying to move back in, but clearly it wasn't as easy as it sounded, or maybe he wasn't trying hard enough. Either way, she could do with the company, so it just went on.
He was sticking to the best friend role, even if there was the odd moment, when they brushed past each other on their way in or out of the bathroom, or when she was making morning coffee early in the kitchen, half dressed in the rush to get to work, when a hint of the old sexual tension flickered. But she didn't linger, didn't let it flare up. Life was hard enough to juggle as was.
◆◆◆
The darkness is warm and inviting, like a soft wrap winding itself around her limbs, dragging her down into a sensual embrace, and Emmy surrenders gratefully. She registers a presence, his presence, moments before he touches her, hands and mouth ghosting over her skin in deliciously tentative caresses, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
The sensations increase, exquisite, her arousal blossoming like a flower bathed in sunlight, and the liquid warmth radiates through her body, the throbbing between her thighs intensifying with every pulse, taking her to the brink of release...
When the alarm sounded, Emmy woke with a gasp, her heart hammering, the coiled spring in her belly almost painful as she chased her elusive orgasm without success, only to fall back on her pillow with a heartfelt groan.
No need to wonder who the mysterious other party was in that fantasy, she could recall his every touch — it was unmistakably Eric, or rather, the memory of his lovemaking, which had provided the template for her dream lover. Now she was frustrated and on edge, and still too angry with him to allow herself a quick moment to finish herself off. Instead, she got up, pulled on a sweater in case Jake was prowling the living room, and ventured out of her bedroom in search of coffee.
By the time she'd ascertained that she was alone, and started the coffee machine, Emmy was beginning to regret not giving herself a quick orgasm the minute she woke up, because she was still painfully aroused — her nipples hard against the thin silk camisole she wore with her pajama bottoms, the sensation magnified by the rough wool of her crewneck. She gave in to the temptation and slipped a hand under her top to pinch one tip, then the other, the spike of arousal immediately echoed in her clit, and decided to reconsider, sliding her other hand into her pants to find that she was, as she'd suspected, already very wet.
She closed her eyes, only to see Eric, eyes hungry for her, etched into her brain. That wouldn't do, and she tried to superimpose faceless hard-bodied jocks, straining erect cocks and avid mouths instead, but none of it was really convincing. She delved back into her memories instead, and as she rolled her clit between her fingers, desperate, she brought back that first night Eric had spent at her apartment, their urgent lovemaking and the way he kept teasing her and holding her orgasm just out of reach. She found her rhythm quickly, her pleasure rising almost to the point of no return when she heard the front door open and slam shut. Jake was back.
Emmy escaped out of the kitchen without acknowledging her roommate, diving into the relative sanctum of the bathroom where she locked herself in, heart beating wildly, and considered briefly the possibility of walking out and continuing her self-pleasuring in front of Jake. She knew for a fact it would take no time at all for him to join in, and there was no denying it was an attractive proposition. But she didn’t have the heart to start something anew, even with her most reliable old flame. There was too much hurt and bitterness left over from Eric, too many raw feelings in need of healing, and while there was definitely something to be said for sex as a distraction for a broken heart, this time Emmy didn’t want to use Jake as a willing rebound, again.
It was easier to keep their easy friendship going, especially since Jake’s stay was open-ended — apparently his temporary tenants weren't moving until Christmas at the earliest, while his next project, a trip to Syria, was proving frustratingly difficult to organize. He was a lifeline for Emmy — the reliable friend, available for a hug or a shoulder