Everything You Want Ch. 02bynerd4music©
Angela Hartley opened the door to her sparsely-decorated apartment. Shuffling inside, she limped tiredly over to the living room and flopped down on the brown leather sofa.
Sighing contentedly she removed the strappy black sandals that had tortured her poor feet for the past six hours. Leaning back into the supple leather she allowed her body precious moments of peace.
Today was a good day. A long one, no doubt but still good. She watched her baby sister and second best friend pledge her love and loyalty to a man who was just as equally in love with her as she was with him.
Seeing Dex and Roxie up there at the altar, their eyes bright with unshed tears and so full of love gave Angie an indescribable pang.
True, she was going to miss her sister, who after their honeymoon in Australia was planning to move to L.A. to begin her new life with her movie star husband.
It was something more that made her hurt.
Angie sighed and tried not to focus on the shambles of her love life. It was no use trying to deny her thoughts. She hadn't had a date in almost a year. Hell, it had been so long since actual male contact she almost forgot what it felt like. She smiled at that thought and remembered her vibrator in her nightstand drawer. It was her only source of comfort at the moment.
She groaned loudly when she heard her cell phone ringing, jarring her out of thoughts centering on her impending battery-operated release.
"Hello," she asked tersely.
"Damn girl. Answer the phone like that and a man thinks he was interrupting something." The man chuckled. "I wasn't interrupting anything was I?"
Angie smiled through her irritation. "And what did you think was going on, Gavin?"
"Oh, I don't know. I figured you'd shack up with one of Mr. Movie Star's hot metrosexual actor friends. I didn't want to interrupt any kinkiness."
It was Angie's turn to chuckle. "Connor that's ridiculous."
"Not really. You are quite the regulation hottie."
"Thanks Conny. But you know the only person I wanna get kinky with is you."
"Ooh, dirty talk. What exactly do you have in mind you vixen you?"
"You, me, a little wine, and a foot massage for your bestest friend?"
"Now, how can a man resist such a tempting offer? Make it a couple of beers and you've got a deal."
"Sweet. Haha, beer. You're so classy, Gavin."
"What can I say, Hellcat. I'm a simple man who likes simple things. I like my beer cold and my woman hot and waiting on the couch for me."
A knock at her door made Angie sit up. She smiled. "Connor Gavin are you already here?"
She heard his deep laugh through the phone and door. "Well, I knew you'd be bothering me for something so I figured why waste time?"
"Good boy, you're learning quickly."
Limping over to the door, she unlocked it quickly and was greeted by the handsome face of her best friend Connor Gavin.
He was still dressed in his tux from the wedding, his jacket thrown casually over his arm, the buttons of his dress shirt undone. He looked disheveled and utterly adorable. She took a second to admire him. He looked like the quintessential All-American boy: 6'3, broad shoulders, well-muscled hunk of a man with a very hot Northeast accent.
All that training at the firehouse toned and shaped his body. His tousled reddish-brown hair was set in rogue-ish curls atop his head. His blue eyes always sparkled like he had a private running joke with himself that he wasn't about to share.
All in all, Connor Gavin was fine as hell. But she damn well wasn't about to admit that to him.
Angie smiled at him. "Thanks for coming over Conny. My feet will love you."
"No problem. Now, back to the couch and I'll get the beers."
Connor watched her walk back to the living room before he moved to the kitchen.
Once there, he felt his heartbeat slow down. Jesus, he thought. Even to this day she still had that effect on him.
Tossing his jacket over a chair next to the kitchen table he steadied himself. Being around Angie had never been this hard. It seemed like every thing she did, or the way she looked at him would be enough to set him off. His heart would speed up and his mouth felt dry.
Connor always felt there was something more between them. It was deeper than friendship. But, was it enough to erase nearly twenty years of history. He wasn't sure he was ready for the dynamic of the relationship to change just yet although truth be told, he knew that what he felt for her was just as strong as it was that night before she left for college.
Every night since then he felt that kiss on his lips, haunting his thoughts. And every morning he'd wake up too coward to admit his feelings. Hell, he didn't even know if she felt the same way.
Grabbing two of the Killian's Irish Red from the fridge, he headed back to the living room. Angie had put in a DVD. Connor smiled. It was Grandma's Boy, a recent entry in their collection of favorites.
"Ange, I didn't know you liked Killian's," he remarked, opening the bottle and handing it to her.
She took a generous swig. "I don't mind it. But I know you love it, and since you're always over here I guess I can do something nice for you."
"Well thanks, doll." Sitting down at the opposite end of the couch, he motioned for her to put her feet up, gasping a little when her slim legs brushed against his mild arousal.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Connor recovered quickly as she settled her legs across his lap. "I'm fine." Looking down at her feet, he smiled. She definitely took care of herself. Her feet were well manicured and soft to the touch. "I'm just glad your feet aren't covered with corns and haggard-looking. That would have been a bit awkward."
Angie smacked his arm. "Shut up, fool. I take good care of myself."
Connor smiled and took her petite foot into his hands. Angie sighed and settled back into the couch. She loved having him take care of her. His hands were strong and firm, the skin slightly roughened from his hard work.
When he gently pressed his thumb into the arch of her sore foot, Angie couldn't help but moan. It had been such a long time since she felt a man's touch, even if it was Connor.
He heard the moan and glanced over at her. She was sprawled on the couch in a state of utter relaxation. Her rich earthen-colored skin blended into the deep mahogany of the leather. Her hair was in its normal state, sticking up all over. Connor grinned. The hair matched the owner. Smooth and silky but damned hard to control.
Connor resisted the urge to slide his hand up farther. Her legs were slightly opened, her black cocktail dress hiked up a little, giving him a glorious view of her brown thighs. He imagined his hand snaking up slowly to the bounteous apex but immediately shook his head clear.
Gavin what the hell, he thought. This is Angie. Your best friend. You can't have these thoughts about her.
Who are you fooling, his body taunted. You've wanting her for the past twenty years.
He moved on to her other foot, kneading the sore muscles softly. Angie sighed in contentment.
"You better not be giving away my foot massages," she muttered.
Connor laughed. "Oh trust me, hellcat. You're the only one who benefits from these hands."
"Really, now? What happened to the dancer, Felicia or something?"
Connor let out a low groan. "That chick was a complete headcase."
Angie chuckled lazily. "I could have told you that. You were surprised?"
He had stopped massaging her feet. "Not particularly, given my hideous track record."
His mind immediately went back to his last fling, Felicia the Dancer. She was a hot one. Raven hair, emerald eyes, and the personality of a viper. He should have known something was up from the get-go. She approached him one night while hanging out with some of the guys from the firehouse at the bar.
It was a short, one-time deal. At least that's what Connor thought. Just a few casual hookups and hot sex. Unfortunately Felicia had other things on her mind.
She began to randomly show up at the station "just to say hello". The guys looked at him like he was a god. She was hot, no doubt. But it had begun to get a little weird, seeing as how they had never technically even been out on a date before.
When she showed up at his house wearing nothing but a trench coat and a seductive smile, Connor was disappointed instead of turned on.
Nothing ever felt right, because no other girl could compare to her.
He tried to let Felicia down easy, saying that she knew from the get-go that a serious relationship was out of the question, but they had fun nevertheless. Apparently Felicia did not see it that way. She continued to show up to his job and at his apartment until finally he had one of his buddies in the precinct slap the girl with a restraining order.
Connor felt like such a heel. Looking back, he realized that he had been using the girl but justified it with the reasoning that she was doing the same thing.
He was jarred out of his thoughts by Angie clearing her throat. "Anyone alive in there?" she asked, amused at the spaced-out look on his face.
Angie grinned. "I said you shouldn't take it so hard, Connor. No one's love life is stellar."
"I'll say. When's the last time you've gotten any?"
She kicked him soundly in the thigh. "A lady never tells, schmuck. Besides, this isn't about me."
"I'm serious, hellcat. You might need to make some changes, you know. Go out, have some fun. Stop hanging around me and find a decent boyfriend and not these jerk-offs." Anything to keep me from having to be around you all the time when all I want to do is slam you against a wall and make you scream, he added mentally.
"It ain't that easy, Conny. It's not like there's a perfect man store somewhere around here where I can pick out my dream guy. No magical boyfriend for me, my friend. Roxie got lucky. I don't think Lady Luck will hit the Hartley sisters twice without a big karmic kickback in the end."
All you need is right in front of you, Connor thought. All I have to do is make you understand that.
"Well," Connor said, clinking his beer bottle with hers. "Until the time when such a store comes to fruition, you and I will always have each other."
They watched the rest of the movie, occasionally laughing at the good parts. Towards the end, Connor looked over and smiled. Angie was curled up in the corner, fast asleep. She never could make it to the end of a movie.
Turning off the television, he gently shook her. "Wakey-wakey, hellcat."
Angie's eyes popped open. "What?" she asked groggily.
"You fell asleep, as usual."
She sat up and stretched, her mouth stretching in a cute yawn. "Shit, what time is it?"
Connor checked his watch. "A little after 3 AM."
"Fuck," she said, rubbing her face. "I didn't even realize I fell asleep."
"Yeah, but it's cool. Today was long and rough on all of us. Damn weddings." Rising from the sofa, Connor held out his hand to help her up. Getting to her feet, Angie seemed a bit unsteady.
"Whoa there, I think I had a bit too much of the champagne."
"You alright Angie?"
"Yeah, I'm good. I think I'm going to head to my bedroom."
"All right, I'm good on the couch." He watched her walk down the semi-darkened hallway to her room. Turning back he faced the sofa. "Ahh, my old adversary. We meet again."
Connor had spent many a night on that very piece of furniture, especially during the times trying to hide out from his girlfriend or fling at the moment.
He unbuttoned his shirt slowly and tried not to think about Angie getting undressed a few feet away from him. Just imagining her black cocktail dress sliding down the smooth, dark contours of her body, the sigh of relief that would escape her luscious lips.
Shaking his head clear, he took off his pants and folded everything neatly on the brown leather club chair next to the sofa. Clad only in his white undershirt and black boxer briefs he padded silently over to the small closet at the start of the hallway where he knew she kept spare blankets and pillows. He was about to turn back when he caught a glimpse of brown skin in the mirror.
Looking down the hallway, he noticed that Angie left the door slightly ajar, allowing him a sliver of a view. It was just enough to notice the mirror in the corner, which reflected the opposite wall. Angie stood serenely at her cedar vanity table. Her back was facing the small mirror as she lifted one slender brown leg up on the seat. Raising her skirt slightly, she unhooked the black stocking she wore from the garter and slowly took it off, as not to tear the nylon.
Connor felt his breath catch in his throat. The act, though a simple one, ignited a fire deep inside. To him, she never looked sexier. When she leaned forward to remove the other nylon, he was treated to a lovely sight of her glorious cleavage heaving in her black lacy strapless bra. Her breasts were full, the tops a glowing dark chocolate begging to be tasted.
Shaking his head out of the stupor, Connor walked briskly back to the living room. Shutting off the light, he settled himself onto the couch and tried to forget the glorious scene that had been before him. His erection and heart wouldn't let him forget.
Connor didn't realize he had drifted off to sleep when he was awaken by a soft throat clearing.
Opening his eyes groggily, he saw Angie standing next to the couch, her brown skin glowing in the soft moonlight. She was wearing a men's dress shirt, the length swishing around her shapely cocoa thighs.
"Ange," he murmured. "Everything okay?"
Her eyes were glistening. "I don't want to sleep alone. Please stay with me tonight."
He rose quickly, gathering her into his arms. She was shaking softly. "Sure, hellcat. What's wrong?"
She didn't answer him, but took his hand and led him to the bedroom. The room was dark, save for the small stream of light dancing into the room from the moon.
"Connor," she whispered. Her hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to her.
Connor groaned from the contact. God, she was so soft. "Oh, Angie baby. Don't do this to me."
She ran her finger down his face, her softness tracing the outline of his strong jaw. Connor sucked in a breath when her fingertips brushed against his lips.
His heart nearly burst into flames with the next words that escaped her lips. Angie leaned in close, her lips next to his ears.
"Conny, please. I want you."
He grabbed her face, crushing his lips against hers. His fingers laced in her brown hair as she nibbled and sucked on his lips. Damn, she was still just as sweet.
Pulling away, he looked into her eyes as if trying to read her mind. "Ange, are you sure?"
Stepping back from him, she unbuttoned the two fastened buttons on her shirt, letting it fall to the floor.
The sight in front of Connor nearly laid waste to his senses. She was simply beautiful. He couldn't believe this gorgeous creature before him was his best friend in the whole world. His best friend that was about to share such an intimate gift with him.
His eyes admired the richness of her dark curves, the slender yet curvy swell of her full hips, her large round breasts capped with chocolate peaks sitting proudly. The shaven mound already glistening with her desire for him.
Walking over to the bed, she sat down on the edge. Spreading her legs wide, she beckoned him with a finger.
"Connor. I need you. Now."
Peeling off his clothes, he allowed his throbbing member to lead him to her. Slowly she leaned back, spreading her legs wider for him. He stood above her, admiring her curves and beauty. The look she gave him set his body ablaze with heated lust.
"Please Connor," she whispered. Reaching down, she parted her slick folds, moaning at the contact. Connor felt his erection twitch at the sight of her pleasuring herself.
Sliding her finger into her dark heat, she let out a sigh. "Do you know how many times I've done this to myself wishing it was you? I've lost count of the times I came thinking about you taking me over and over."
Connor gulped audibly. He couldn't take it anymore. She brought out a deep fantasy hidden within him. Suddenly he felt nothing more would satisfy him than pushing her up against that wall and making her scream.
Angie felt herself being lifted from the bed as Connor half-carried, half-dragged her over to the wall across from the mirror. He pushed her back gently, but with enough force to get his point across.
He lifted her easily and she wrapped one leg instinctively around his waist. He was at her entrance and his body was screaming for him to continue. But he wanted to prolong it. He wanted to hear her beg for it.
Connor slid partly into her wet cove, gasping at the feeling of overwhelming satisfaction. He was barely inside of her, yet he already felt like he was home. His head was bent, admiring the way his paleness slid into her dark channel. Her eyes were shut and moving quickly beneath her eyelids.
"Do you want this, hellcat?" he groaned, inching deeper into her.
Angie didn't reply, just nodded her head. Her grip tightened around his neck as he slowly pushed more into her.
Giving one final thrust, Connor buried himself completely in her. Angie moaned loudly. "Oh god, I want it Connor!" she cried. "I want it so bad."
She began to grind her hips and work her pelvis in a seductive slow whine. Connor bit his lip. She was gripping his cock so tightly and working him so nicely.
Grabbing her other leg, he lifted her completely off the floor. He kissed her deeply, tasting the beads of sweat forming like a sweet and salty barrier on her upper lip.
Connor grabbed her arms, crisscrossing them above her head. "Don't move them," he growled. Placing a hand on her wrists, and wrapping his arm around her waist, he glanced over at the mirror and nearly exploded right there. She looked utterly helpless, a rarity for his usually fiery Hellcat. Her brown curves glistened in the moonlight, a sheen of swear coated like dew on their bodies.
He liked that she submitted to him, but he knew he'd pay for it later.
Still, he was going to give her the ride of her life.
"Move your hips," he commanded. Angie complied, moaning at the erotic sparks the friction created between them.
Connor groaned as she picked up speed. "Oh Angie, baby I've waited for this for so long."
"Connor, you make me feel so good. Come with me, lover." Connor felt her muscles tighten around his cock as she exploded in ecstasy. He moaned as he released inside her, the past twenty years of longing culminating into that very moment of pure passionate explosion.
Carrying her over to the bed, he laid her head softly on the pillow, never leaving her warmth.
He laid down beside her and she instinctively cuddled closer to him.
Sighing contentedly, he stroked her brown hair. "I love you, Hellcat."
"I love you too, Conny." She kissed his chest. "Always."
Connor awoke to the sunlight streaming through the curtains, nearly blinding him. He smiled, remembering his time with Angie. Reaching his hand out for her, he only encountered something solid that oddly enough felt like wood.
Turning his head, realization sank in.
And it hit heavy like a brick.
He was still in the living room.
That whole night, it couldn't have been a dream...right?
He looked down at his boxer briefs. He was sporting a sizeable morning wood. Propping himself up on his elbows, Connor was in disbelief.
It was one hell of a dream. The way he felt inside her, her fingers running through his hair. It all felt so real.
He sighed and dropped back to his pillow, a feeling of disappointment washing over him. To have a dream like that is a cruel trick, he thought.