lips to Marshal's as I reach out and stroke his jeans.
Once.
Twice.
With each stroke, his cock grows larger and harder under the fabric.
He says something again about food.
"I think I have a better idea than food, something that will make me feel better."
"Sami..."
My two-syllable name becomes a full four as Marshal’s eyes roll back and he lowers his head until his forehead rests on mine.
"Marshal Michaels, don't make me beg. I deserve this. You deserve this. I'm a damn good lay. I promise."
"Don't say that. We...we have our agreement."
I continue stroking his cock, the bulge in his jeans growing bigger and bigger. Harder and harder. He doesn't try to stop me as his chest rises and falls.
"I propose a new agreement," I say with confidence. But then as I reach for the buckle of his belt, Marshal stops me.
"Honey, you know I love you."
"And I love you. I have since we were five."
Marshal's cheeks rise. "You sure had a funny way of showing it."
I shrug at the memory. With pink filling my cheeks, I concede, "Okay. Since we were six, then. Now we're both adults. We can do this and still be friends. I'm not wanting more—I’m done with forever. It doesn’t really exist. Right now, I just want to feel. I want to be close to someone.”
“I’m here.”
“You know what I mean.” When he doesn’t respond, I ask, “Do you really want me to get what I need at some bar from a stranger? Because I’m getting it tonight."
His arms tense and I know I've hit a nerve.
“Don’t act like that makes me something I’m not. When was the last time you didn’t get laid when you wanted to?”
Marshal’s Adam’s apple bobs. “You’re killing me here.”
I look up at his blue orbs, seeing the way they swirl with indecision. He's my best friend and protector. If I would let him, instead of being here with me, he’d be at our condo and Jack would be beaten to a bloody pulp.
Our condo.
My stomach drops. It’s my condo, and Jack can get his ass out.
"No,” Marshal says, “I don’t want you at a bar with a stranger, but, Sami..."
I take a step back and reach for the hem of my shirt. Pulling it over my head, I watch as Marshal's blue eyes grow in proportion to his cock as his gaze is suddenly glued to my boobs. They're big and round and pushed upward in my pink Victoria's Secret bra. "Either I'm going to crawl into your bed and have a sleepover with my best friend" —I reach for the button on my jeans— "or my best friend is going to need to tell me to leave, and I guess I'll look for somewhere else to stay because I sure as hell can’t go back to my condo tonight."
Marshal runs his hand through his light brown hair as he watches my next move.
"What will it be?" I shimmy out of my jeans and leave them on his floor near my shirt. "Are you going to kick me out?"
"I don't want to be a get-even fuck, Sami."
My head tilts to the side. “Really? You’ve never been in this situation before?”
“Not with you. You’re different.”
Marshal Michaels has never turned down sex, no matter the reason.
I take a deep breath, reach up, and stroke his chiseled jaw. "I don’t want this to get even.” My head shakes. “Jack can screw whomever he wants. What I want isn’t about him. It’s about me. And” —I separate each word for emphasis— “This. Won't. Change. A. Thing."
"Our agreement?" he asks again with more uncertainty in his voice.
"Let's have a new agreement?"
For only a moment, I remember all the effort, all the working out, to be ready for my wedding and honeymoon and decide I want to show off my toned body to my best friend. Wearing only my bra and matching boy shorts—the kind that show off my butt cheeks—I reach for Marshal's hand. I've never noticed before how big it is. How long his fingers are. How strong his grasp is.
I take a step toward his bedroom.
It's only one step, but suddenly, I'm pulled back into his arms. My waist is pulled tight against him, his erection grinding against me and probing the flesh of my stomach.
I wince as Marshal tugs my hair, forcing my head backward until I'm staring up into his eyes.
My breathing hitches as I take him in. The blue is different, deeper, stronger, and there's something new.
"Tell me you're sure."
The crotch of my