She rolled her eyes and finally took a breath. I started laughing and shook my head. “Damn, Ana, I love getting you riled up. You fall for that shit all the time. I agree with you, I think Jordan’s game was better than Kobe’s, hands down.”
“Oh my god, you are such an asshole!” I laughed again, just as she leaped toward me. At the same time, I pulled her to me and she landed right on top of me, our lips inches apart. I looked deeply into her creamy eyes and that feeling that used to wash over me whenever she was close suddenly appeared. I instinctively put my hand in her hair and gripped it. Her lips parted slightly as she always used to do when I was aggressive with her. She was the only woman that I could be myself with sexually and it undeniably woke up something inside of me.
Ayana and I had been dancing around this moment for a few days now. After we went to TGI Friday’s for dinner a week or so ago, she tried to keep her distance from me, but I wouldn’t let her. I spent every night I could at the bar and waited for her to emerge from the back. When she did, we hung out at the bar or drove around the city and talked. Soon we were spending time together despite her efforts to keep me at a distance. We eventually graduated to cooking at either her apartment or my brother’s house. We watched movies or played cards, just doing things we used to do as kids. We even went to the court and played a few games.
I didn’t expect us to find our friendship all over again, but, when we did, I should have been prepared for what would follow. The looks that passed through the both of us, we tried to ignore. I knew better, yet we both knew what would happen if one of us crossed that line. One summer in Miami, our relationship changed drastically. We went from just friends to something more than we could ever imagine. Our feelings skyrocketed after that trip and we spent more time in between the sheets than anything else. We fucked like rabbits and it was by far the best I’ve ever had. I mean, Ayana was a woman that wanted to please and submit to anything I wanted to do. And we did some things I’d never did with another female ever.
It was something that she brought out of me. And when circumstances caused us to part, shit wasn’t the same. I felt disconnected and lonely without her and I couldn’t stand it. So five years ago when we found each other again things started where we’d left off instantly. We didn’t waste time with familiarizing ourselves with each other again. The moment our lips touched, that shit was over. She was mine again, and it was as if I never left.
That’s what I was faced with this moment. The moment I kiss her, it would be over, and to be honest with you, I didn’t give a shit. I was hungry for her.
I moved her closer to my lips, and when I licked both hers and mine at the same time, she closed her eyes. “Bradley…” she whispered, softly. “We can’t…”
If she was in a relationship with someone, I’d like to think I’d show restraint, but she told me she was free, so I decided I was going to take what I wanted.
I moved up closer to her and assured, “Sure we can… watch.” She tried to resist me, but the moment my lips met hers, I felt her resolve melt in my arms replaced by a soft moan that moved through me.
I moved her body and trapped her between the couch and me. I kissed the shit out of her, releasing some built up feelings that I hadn’t a clue I was holding. I needed to get more of her. I needed to feel her, to taste more of her.
I pulled back and the fire I saw in her eyes burned me to my core. Overwhelmed, desire to conquer her took over and declared, I will have her tonight!
I stood up instantly and pulled her up to me. I didn’t care that she saw how hard she made me just by kissing her. She tried to take advantage of this pause in my pursuit of her.
“Bradley, I think I need to go home,” she protested.
I looked at her tank top, brought my hands on the top of the shirt and gripped it tight within my hands. She instinctively moved back from me, but I didn’t stop. I followed, and, just as she got to the door, I ripped her tank top down the front.
“Fuck, Bradley,” she admonished, her hands instantly going up to her breasts.
I wasn’t stopping. My hand went between her legs and caressed her over her shorts with my palm, placing just enough pressure, knowing what she liked, while my body continued to invade her space.
“Brad, please,” she said to me. Her voice laced with need for me more than the want for me to stop.
“That’s what I’m trying to do. Stop fighting me or, hell, keep doing it. You know that shit turns me on when you pretend to not want me when clearly your moans say that you do.”
She tried to give me a stern look, but I saw her lip tremble slightly, and I ran my other hand down the front of her chest. When I got to her bra, I pulled slightly and it came undone, thankful she loved front clasping bras. As she closed her eyes, I went right for that place on her neck and waited for the waterfall.