Anything for You Ch. 03


"Sam..." He hesitated, his expression curiously unreadable. "Nothing stays the same for ever."

"This has to," I pleaded. "Please, Drew. Promise me."

He sighed heavily, at last giving me a resigned smile. "Okay. I promise."

I couldn't tear my gaze from his as he lowered me back down to the bed, the magnitude of what we about to do suddenly hitting me like a cannon ball to the chest. Because this wasn't how this was supposed to be, right? To have sex would've been an entirely natural progression for two people who'd fallen for each other, for a couple experiencing that indefinable spark that demanded their bodies be joined.

But this was different. We weren't that couple. We weren't in love—or even in lust. We were Sam and Drew. Drew and Sam. Best friends, not lovers. Childhood playmates, not soulmates. And no matter how I twisted it around, I couldn't make the idea work in my head.

I could still bail out, I thought, a wave of panic rising through my stomach as he stretched out beside me, turning his body towards mine. Feign illness. Conveniently remember I'd forgotten to set the alarm at the shop.


Or I could just shout "Fire!"

"Y-yes?" I croaked.

He grinned. "You're looking at me like I'm the big bad wolf and you're Little Red Riding Hood."

"What big teeth you have," I quipped nervously, wishing I hadn't when he gave me a speculative look, his grin slowly spreading.

Fuck, how the hell could I have forgotten the next line?

"Nah, maybe later," he murmured affectionately, pulling me into his arms. "I'm not all that hungry just now."

I groaned into his chest as he ruffled my hair, his laughter rumbling against my ear. "There's not a chance you'll let that one go, is there?"

"I'm amenable to bribery."

Raising my chin, I gave him my best shocked look. "A respectable lawyer like you?"

He winked. "Darlin', there ain't nothin' respectable about me." And as if to prove it, he cupped my cheek in his hand and slanted his lips over mine.

Oh, Drew could kiss, there was no doubt about that, better than any man I'd known. It was almost too easy to let the last of my lingering doubts slip away, his mouth demanding my full attention.

When he lifted his head at last, he smiled down at me, his finger toying with the thin strap of my camisole. "So do I get to see everything—or are you planning on keeping this on?"

"Is this the bribery part?" God, I sounded wantonly breathless...

"Nope." Though he was still smiling, his dark eyes were solemn. "This is the part where you find out I'm actually a sensitive guy."

A tiny something in my chest swelled and abruptly went ping. So he'd taken on board how much I hated my scars. "Sensitive?" I echoed, deciding to feign incredulity.

He grinned, kissing my nose. "I know, hard to believe, but it's true. Besides, seen one set of tits, seen 'em all, right?"

I gave a snort of laughter. "So sensitive. And so very practical. You'll just use your imagination, right?"

"Absolutely," Drew parried cheerfully. "Close my eyes, picture a lovely pair of thirty-two double Ds."

"Oh for God's sake..." I pushed at his shoulders to give myself enough room to manoeuvre and reached for the bottom edge of my camisole, yanking it up and over my head. "There you go—oh." Even avoiding eye contact, I could tell he was laughing as he helped me disentangle the spaghetti straps from my fingers, my gesture of bravado as usual falling flat on its face. "Not thirty-two double Ds though, I'm afraid. So feel free to imagine something better."

There was a considerable pause before he replied—a pause during which, thanks to the heat of his scrutiny, I grew very warm indeed.

"Actually, you know, I'm not sure I could."


"They're perfect. You're perfect. Beautiful, in fact."

"Drew..." I stifled a gasp, staring fixedly at the ceiling as he traced a fingertip from my neck to the valley between my breasts. "It's okay. You don't—you don't have to say stuff like that. I'm a sure thing, remember? You don't need to—"

"You honestly think I'm just saying that?"

"Listen..." I hated hearing the hint of irritation in his voice. "I know you're trying to do this right. Do right by me," I added hastily. "But that doesn't mean you have to—"

"Look at me, Sam."

Pants. Now he really sounded pissed. "Drew—"

"I said, look at me, Samantha Bloom."

Swallowing hard, I did as I was told. It would've been difficult not to, given his tone.

"Repeat after me."


He made a growling sound low in his throat. "Repeat. After. Me."

I acknowledged his demand with a heartfelt sigh.

"I, Samantha Bloom."

"I, Samantha Bloom," I parroted, rolling my eyes.

"Do solemnly declare."

"What is this, a wedding? I thought we were just gonna have sex."

"Do solemnly declare," he repeated, lifting his eyebrows meaningfully.

I grimaced. "Do solemnly declare."

"That I am drop-dead gorgeous."

I gave him my best 'you can't be serious' look.

"Come on, Sam."

Shaking my head, I released another sigh. "That I am... Averagely attractive, I suppose. With my clothes on, anyway."

"That I am drop-dead gorgeous," he corrected, shaking his head in turn. "With or without my clothes."


"Say it—or I'll show you exactly why Little Red Riding Hood should be afraid of the big bad wolf's teeth."

He wouldn't... Would he? "But I'm not drop-dead gorgeous."

There was an odd glint in his eyes as he propped himself up on one elbow. "Sure about that?"

"Pretty sure, yes." I watched him uneasily. "Mirrors don't lie. Cameras don't lie. And I'm pretty sure that I'd kn-ow-ow—!"

I shrieked as he bent his head over me, shrieking all the more wildly when his mouth promptly fastened over my left nipple and he started to suck. And then I couldn't shriek, the shower of sparks arcing to my groin so painfully pleasurable I couldn't focus on drawing enough breath...

"Ah," he murmured with satisfaction, mischief in his gaze as he lifted his head just enough to study my expression. "I thought you might like that." Trailing his lips from one breast to the other, he captured my other nipple, eliciting another squeak from me as he drew it deep into the moist heat of his mouth.

Then just as suddenly, he let go.

"Hey!" The whimper of protest escaped my throat before I could stop it, Drew's open amusement leaving me hot with shame.

"Oh, you want more?" he said innocently, that 'cat got the cream' look smugly back in place. "Then you're gonna have to say those words, Sam."

"Drew—" I broke off in dismay as he raised his head another inch. "But I'm not—"

He tilted his head on one side, glancing down at the swollen, rosy-tipped peaks he'd created before looking back up at me.

"All right. I'm—" I hesitated, my voice dropping to a near whisper when I continued "—drop dead gorgeous."



"Louder, kiddo. Like you actually believe it."

"Fine." I bit my lip, closing my eyes briefly. "I'm drop dead gorgeous, all right?"

"Hmm." Laughing at my sulky tone, Drew caressed my cheek, his fingers sliding deep into my hair. "Oh sod it," he muttered. "I guess I'll just have to prove it."

I gasped as he kissed me again, his hand falling from my hair to my shoulder and then, as he deepened the kiss, sliding over my breast, the thumb brushing over my nipple mimicking the movement of his tongue. Once again, I felt those tiny pulses of pleasure low in my belly, the slow but steady tightening there, my body responding to his touch regardless of the warning bells in my mind.

Though those warning bells were fading into the distance fast now, the last of my reservations overwhelmed by my mounting desire, Drew seeming to know instinctively how to stoke that desire. When to tease and when to indulge. When to hold back—until I was on the verge of begging—and when to give me everything I wanted. Even more astonishingly, he seemed to know how to extract the same from me, to persuade me to match him kiss for kiss, to encourage my fingers to roam his body just as eagerly as his fingers explored my flesh.

My back arched from the bed as he kissed his way down to my breasts, my hands flying to his shoulders and then to his head when he again caught first one taut bud and then the other in his mouth, holding him in place while he suckled there, my breath coming in agonised gasps. And gradually, I became aware of a new sensation, of something pressing against my thigh.

Something heavy, and warm—and hard...


"Yep." I felt his answering smile against my breast. "Mr Percy's very pleased to meet you."

"Mr Percy?" My helpless giggle turned into a groan as he lightly sank his teeth into my nipple. "It has a name?"

"Doesn't yours?"

"No-o..." I repressed another moan as his hand swept downwards, edging beneath the waistband of my briefs. "It's never even crossed my m-mind..." My body gave another involuntary jerk as his fingers slid lower, warm against my delicate skin.

"S'okay," he said softly, drawing back to watch as he palmed me gently there. "I'm sure we can come up with something. How about Kitty?"

"What?" And then I gasped, his fingertip gently parting my sensitive folds, slipping easily into the slickness between. "You can't—can't call it Kitty!"

"Why not?" He bent his head, suckling on my breast as he began to caress me in earnest, the combination making me ache with need. "Nice pussy," he murmured as I writhed beneath his hand. "Ooh... You're very wet, Kitty."

"You can't name my—bits," I whimpered in mortification, closing my eyes, not knowing where to look as he continued to pet me. "We're not even supposed to be doing this."

"Is that right?" He sounded amused. "Well, that's pretty interesting. You see, for someone so damn sure we weren't going to do this, you sure seem to have gone to a lot of trouble."

Shit. I opened one eye.

"So much trouble, I'd say," he teased, grinning broadly as he glanced down to where his hand disappeared beneath my briefs, "it'd be rude of me not to take a peek..."

"No!" I yelped as he hooked his fingers beneath the elastic, knowing I'd lost the battle even before he tugged them down. "You're wrong! I didn't do it because I thought we-ee..."

If I hadn't known where to look before, this was infinitely worse. I grimaced up at the ceiling, my nether regions, so ruthlessly pruned in the bathroom that morning, burning beneath the intensity of his gaze.

"You didn't?" I could actually hear his smile. "This work of art you've created down here—you keep Kitty like this all the time?"

"Of course," I lied, wanting to giggle when he released a snort. "You never know when you might get run down by a bus."

"Really?" he said solemnly, making me quiver as he brushed his fingers over the tiny patch of curls I'd allowed to remain. "No one ever told me you had to keep your pubes tidy. To think, all this time, I thought all you had to do was wear clean underwear."

"You live and learn," I replied, at last daring to look at him—rather wishing that I hadn't when I saw the mischief in his expression. "Oh no, Drew... Wait!"

Laughing at me already, he scooted backwards with my briefs, peeling them down and planting kisses in their wake. And then they were gone, and somehow he was between my legs, moving back towards me on his knees.

Oh fuck...

I didn't want to look, but I couldn't look away.

"Okay," I squeaked as Mr Percy came to rest against my inner thigh. "So we should really get this over with."

"You think?" He sounded amused.

"Yeah. Because then afterwards...

Oh God. Afterwards?

"We could maybe..." I took a frantic look around, my gaze falling on the room service menu still beside us on the bed. "Order some more chicken nuggets."

Drew shot me an incredulous glance. "You want more?"

No, not really. "Yeah, why not?"

He rolled his eyes. "You mean chicken goujons," he corrected laughing, making me gasp as he slid his hands beneath my hips. "And I suppose you're going to want some more chips too?"

"You don't mean chips—" I gave a yelp as he raised my bottom from the bed, propping me up on his knees while he reached behind me for a pillow.

What the hell...?

"You mean, thickly-sliced—"

"—hand cut potato wedges," he finished with a grin, promptly wedging the pillow underneath me.

"Yes." I did my best to hide my terror as he started crawling forward, repressing a moan as he settled over me. And now everything was touching, my heart was thudding wildly. "But if you're not hungry—"

Oh no, not again...

I groaned as he sent me a very hungry smile.

"You want me to let that one go too?" he offered.

I bit my lip. "You'd do that for me?"

He laughed, his head already lowering towards mine. "Sam, I'd do anything for you..."

My eyes closed as he kissed me, chasing my embarrassment far away and pretty soon, nothing else seemed to matter. Only the feel of his lips on my lips, the rasp of his tongue against mine, his taste already so familiar to me.

But there was nothing familiar about the feel of his bare flesh moving over me—nor that insistently nudging hardness between us.

Though at least I'd figured out the reason for the pillow. It seemed we were now perfectly aligned...

"All right," he soothed as I tensed beneath him. "Try to relax."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered, turning my head into his shoulder as he slid his hand between us to make a small correction. "No one's trying to stick a ten inch pole up your—o-oh..." His fingers were back at that wonderful spot he'd found before, sidetracking me from the discomfort.

"Better?" he murmured, laughing when I moaned in agreement. "Told you I had magic fingers."

He had—but when? Oh, earlier on, when he'd picked me up from my house... "You're still rubbish at playing guitar."

He laughed again softly, pressing a kiss against my hair. "Thanks for that—and 'ten inch pole'?"

I ignored the incredulity in his voice. "Why was it even in your car?"

"What, my ten inch pole?"

"No!" God, it was hard to concentrate while he was touching me down there. "Your—ow..." I drew in a sharp breath as something suddenly seemed to give, the very tip of him easing inside me. "Your guitar."

"A mate of mine's flogging it for me on eBay. You really want to talk about that now?"

"Not necessarily." I could feel the tension in his shoulders, what it had to be costing him to hold himself in check. Almost as much as it was costing me to let him try.... "We could talk about football instead."

"You hate football," he murmured, kissing me when I shot him a glance of desperation.

"I know—but this isn't working!" I wailed, wincing when he tried pressing forward again. "You're too big!"

"No, I'm not."

"Then why won't you fit? Am I too small?"

Why was he laughing?

"Women are built to have babies, Sam."

"Huh, well. Maybe I'm not," I muttered, burying my face back against his shoulder, yelping as he rocked into me again.

He sighed, apparently reconciling himself to the idea that conversation was an effective distraction. "What's that supposed to mean? You don't want children, or you just can't imagine having any?"

Yeah right. I owned a maternity wear shop, for heaven's sake..."I don't know," I lied, wincing as I felt him slide in another inch.

Because I wanted to have them, I knew that for certain. I just wasn't sure that I still could.

And I really didn't want to talk about that now... "How about you?"

"Me? I want a whole football team."


"Fourteen," he corrected, smiling as I shot him an incredulous look "Well, there'll need to be a few subs, won't there?"

Though as outrageous as that sounded, it was still astonishingly easy to picture the family portrait; him sitting with a smiling blonde, their enormous blond brood congregated around them on three rows, all wearing England strips.

Drew would make a fantastic Dad.

The odd ache in my chest muted the burning between my thighs.

"Well you'd better meet the girl of your dreams pretty soon then," I quipped lightly. "You'll be too old to teach them all to play."

I realised my folly the moment his eyes narrowed in amusement, cringing as his head lowered over mine. "You're so gonna pay for that," he threatened against my lips.

He kissed me again and I groaned into his mouth, my fingers digging into his shoulders when his fingers picked up speed. I flailed helplessly beneath him as he discovered a steady, perfect rhythm, every undulation of my hips driving him just a little deeper. I barely noticed the burn as my flesh yielded to his possession, the stinging sensation somehow becoming part of the pleasure. And as his fingers kept up the relentless pace, delicious pressure began to coil until, quite suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sense of fullness. "Oh my..."

"Told you it would fit," he said softly, smirking as I opened heavy eyes. "But whoa—hang on gorgeous," he added quickly as I tried to move beneath him, grimacing when I flinched. "I know, I'm sorry—I promise it'll feel better in a minute."

A minute? "God, it..."


"It feels weird," I whispered instead. "That's really all of you—inside me?"

For an answer, Drew took my hand and let me measure for myself, smiling as I gazed at him in awe. I felt the tautness of my opening, stretched so very wide around him—and wondered why it didn't hurt ten times more.

"Huh," I murmured weakly. "So people actually enjoy this?"

His smile rueful, he hesitated just a moment too long before replying. "It gets better, Sam, I—"

"No..." I stared in sudden comprehension. "Don't tell me you're enjoying this?"

His guilty expression told me all I needed to know.


He groaned. "No, not like that. Sam, I hate hurting you—"


"Oh, for fuck's sake." Looking suitably chastened, Drew cupped my cheek in his hand. "No, I'm not enjoying hurting you. But do you have any idea...?" Trailing off, he shot me another apologetic smile. "No, of course you don't, how could you?" He shook his head. "You feel incredible, okay?"

"Incredible?" I repeated. The idea was curiously gratifying.

His gaze softened. "Better than incredible. I can't even begin to describe how it feels."


"Sam!" He laughed, the slight movement of his body making him ripple within me—and he was right; it was already beginning to feel better. "You're serious—you really want to know?" Rolling his eyes at my expectant look, he blew out a long breath. "All right—it feels amazing to be inside you, okay? You feel so hot and wet—and soft. And God, Sam—so incredibly fucking tight..."

Holy crap. The crude words were even turning me on. "So basically, you're telling me you want to fuck my brains out?"

Where the hell had that come from?

Drew's brows shot up in amusement. "Well... Yeah, I do," he confessed.

"Well, tough," I fired back, blushing furiously. "Cos I think you'll find we agreed we wouldn't enjoy this."

"Oh, I think you'll find we didn't."

"What?" I gasped as he eased his lower body from mine, his withdrawal leaving me startlingly bereft. "Drew—"

"You forgot to make me sign on the bottom line." He smiled down at me, brown eyes liquid with desire. "So I'm gonna try my best to make this good for you. Though to be honest, I think it might just kill me..."

I could see he wasn't kidding, the signs of his inner battle etched across his face, his jaw tightening as he fought for self-control. And then he pushed, and the breath I'd been holding stuttered out in pieces.

It was torment and it was torture and pretty much everything in between, his slow thrust stretching me impossibly wide, letting me feel every millimetre of his possession. And I whimpered as he pulled back, only to sob as he plunged deeper, my flesh aching as he nudged into yet more uncharted territory. "God, I'm sorry," he ground out, his voice unusually gruff. "I promise, Sam. I promise I'll make this better..."

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