Bridesmaid Undercover: An incredibly steamy, hilarious, friends to lovers, love triangle romantic comedy

EVERLY

Be cool, Everly.

Yes, he held the nape of your neck, but you need to remain calm and continue to assess the situation.

“Then let’s get going,” Hardy says, his eyes beaming down at me.

Are they really beaming?

Or is he just intoxicated?

Regardless, the way he looks at me gives me a trembling, nervous sensation that I haven’t felt in a very long time.

We both offer Maple a hug goodbye, and then together, Hardy and I head back into the house.

“So,” he says when we reach the kitchen, which has already been cleaned by the catering company. Man, they’re fast. “Did you have fun?”

“I did, it was such a good—” I start but pause in the middle of my sentence as I feel him gently take my hand in his.

Um, what?

Confused, I look up at him, searching for an answer, only for him to casually say, “Don’t want you tripping after all of those Jell-O shots.”

“You had just as many—what if you fall?” I ask, not even mad about this hand-holding. Actually, quite happy about it. His hand is so large that it completely encompasses mine, making me feel oddly protected. Like nothing can happen to me as long as my hand is in his.

“Why do you really think I’m holding your hand?” he says with a wink that makes me chuckle.

“And here I thought you were trying to be my knight in shining armor.”

“Hell, I was hoping you would be mine.”

I laugh again. “That can be arranged.”

Because the house is on a hill, we take the stairs down to the street slowly, but when we make it, I expect him to let go of my hand now that we’re safe and on even ground, but instead…he doesn’t.

He keeps me close.

“What car are we looking for?” he asks.

“Umm…” Still holding his hand, I look at my phone screen. “A black Tesla S. It’s one minute away.”

“Good.” He glances down at his shirt. “According to my nipples, a storm is coming.”

I don’t know why, but it makes me laugh hard.

It’s so ridiculous.

So stupid.

But I love this side of Hardy. This side that I’m not sure if he shows a lot of people, but with me, it seems to come naturally. This goofy, down to earth guy. Not the man in the suit, but the man in the fish shirt looking for a good laugh.

This moment just adds to that.

Not to mention, it feels like he’s back to his normal self, and I couldn’t be happier about that. No more ignoring me. No more awkwardness. Just him.

“What kind of storm?” I ask. “Are they pointing in a certain direction, letting us know where the front is coming from?”

“I think a rainstorm from the west.”

“From the west is a dead giveaway,” I say.

“You knocking the legitimacy of the nipples?”

I smirk. “If I was knocking them, I think you would feel it, and according to Ken, you’d like it.”

Hardy rolls his eyes. “Oh my God, don’t listen to a thing he said tonight.”

Not a single thing?

Meaning…the things he said about Hardy liking me?

No, don’t do this, Everly. Don’t start overthinking.

“Oh, is that the car?” Hardy asks as a black Tesla pulls up. I check the license plate and nod.

“That would be it.”

When the car stops, Hardy opens the door and helps me in first. I settle up against the far side and then to my surprise, he slides his large body in as well, all the way to the middle so he’s plastered up against me.

That’s…new.

“Hey, man,” Hardy says as he places his hand on my leg. “How’s it going?”

Yes, hand on my leg.

We went from nape-touching to hand-holding to hand on leg.

“Good,” Vinnie, the Uber driver, says. “You guys comfortable?”

Um, well, you see, Vinnie, this man has his hand on my thigh, and I’m not sure what to do with that.

“All set,” Hardy says casually as he leans back against the seat before man-spreading, getting himself nice and comfortable.

I’ll be honest with you, my breathing has made a complete one-eighty.

It’s sharp, short, and ragged.

And if we’re mentioning hard nipples, all I can say is, guilty. But whereas Hardy’s predict the weather, mine are attempting to predict his next move.

Does he like me? Does he not?

I’ve never been more confused. I have no idea what’s going on, and I’m becoming more and more tense.

After a few seconds of silence, Hardy says, “What did you think of the syringe shots?”

“Interesting,” I say as his thumb rubs along my leg, making me gulp. “Never took a shot like that before.”

“It’s a Maple special. It took me right back to college when she pulled them out—then again, that was the theme of the night.”

“It was. I hope everyone, especially Polly and Ken, enjoyed the party.”

“I know they did. You did an amazing job,” he says and then squeezes my leg.

“Thank you,” I squeak out.

“Are you going to the wedding next weekend?” he asks.

“Uh, I don’t think so. I think I was just here to help Maple get through these parties.”

“Shame,” he says as he removes his hand from my thigh and then drapes it over my shoulder, pulling me in tight to his chest. Warmth and yearning spread through me. “Would have been fun to have you there.”

“Oh?” I ask, not much of a conversationalist as my body processes his touch, the feel of him so close…his masculine scent.

“Yeah, we could have danced together.”

“Are you much of a dancer?” I ask.

“With the right partner, I am.”

“And what makes you think I would be the right partner?” I ask.

“Because I like you, so that makes you a good partner,” he answers, making my stomach tumble and somersault with butterflies.

He means like you as a friend.

Nothing more…right?

Ughhh, I don’t know!

“Are you a good dancer, Everly?” he asks as he twirls a lock of my hair around his finger.

Don’t hyperventilate, Everly, keep it together.

“Uh, what kind of dancing?”

“All kinds,” he says.

“Well, I can catch a tune,” I say like a dweeb.

“Catch a tune?” he asks, his chest rumbling with a chuckle. “Is that what the young’uns are calling it?”RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

“As a matter of fact, yes,” I say.

“Uh, I don’t think they are,” Vinnie from up front says.

No one asked you, Vinnie!

“How old are you, Vinnie?” Hardy asks.

“Twenty-five,” he answers.

“Hmm, pretty close to your age, Everly. Seems like he might be right.”

“I know I am,” Vinnie says. “No one is saying they’re ‘catching a tune.’”

“I think the girls just say it,” I reply.

“Nah, I have a sister two years younger than me, and she’s not saying it,” Vinnie says. “Seems to me like you’re nervous and just saying things. Are you on your first date?”

“No,” I say—as Hardy says, “Yes.”

I look up at him, confused, and he just smirks.

“Ooo, looks like you two have some details to work out,” Vinnie says. “But if I were you, miss, I’d be saying yes. Looks like your boy is quite the catch.”

“Thanks, Vinnie,” Hardy says.

“Anytime, Boss,” he answers.

And then because I’m awkward and don’t want to listen to Vinnie lecture me…or call me out again, I spend the rest of the drive to my apartment looking out the window while Hardy continues to twirl my hair and stick very close to my side.

Finally, when we arrive, I start to say bye to Hardy, but instead of offering me a wave, he scoots across the seat and gets out of the car. He holds his hand out to me, and, confused, I take it and allow him to help me out.

And when I think he’s going to get back in the car, he says, “Thanks, man.”

“Sure thing,” Vinnie replies as Hardy shuts the door, and before I can ask what’s going on, the car drives off, leaving me on the sidewalk alone with Hardy.

Uhh…that was his ride home.

Was he aware?

I’m about to ask when he nods toward my building. “Aren’t you going to invite me up?”

“Uh…” I blink a few times. “Do you want to be invited up?”

“Only if you want me to come up.”

“Well, my apartment isn’t much,” I say. “I’m sure your place is much bigger so I think it would be less than impressive to you, not much to see, so⁠—”

He tilts my chin up with one finger, so I have to look him in the eyes.

His blue to my green.

Our gazes locked under the cloud-covered sky.

And in a dark, dreamy voice, he says, “I’m not asking to see your apartment, Everly.”

Oh, dear God.

My legs tremble beneath me.

My mind spirals with questions.

My heart tumbles with yearning for this to be true.

“Wh-what are you asking?” I say, my nerves getting the better of me.

His hand cups my cheek, and his thumb passes over my skin. With his eyes intent on mine, he says, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really,” I say on a gulp.

His eyes bounce back and forth between mine. His grip on me grows tighter, more possessive, and when he steps in closer, leaving no space between us, my breath hitches in my chest.

“I want you, Everly.”

Is this a joke?

This can’t be true.

Am I dreaming?

Did someone put him up to this?

I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long, and I never thought it would actually come true.

“You…you’re drunk, Hardy,” I say. “I don’t want you saying things that aren’t true.”

His expression grows stern. “Why would you think this isn’t true?”

“Because you like Maple, and you’re probably sad about that⁠—”

“I’m not sad about her. Nothing is going on there.”

“I saw you two,” I say. “I saw⁠—”

“What you saw was Maple helping me figure out a way to be with you,” he replies. “She was trying to get me out of the friend zone. And the reason I’ve been weird around you? Because I fucking like you, Everly. Ken said it twice tonight. Polly and Maple were pulling out all the stops to try to get us closer, to give me a chance.”

“A chance?” I ask as I pull away, my mind reeling. “You want a chance with me?”

“Yes,” he says, exasperated. “Fuck, Everly, you didn’t for one moment even question my intentions tonight?”

“I…I mean, I thought maybe, but it was such a far-off possibility that I didn’t think… Last week, you wanted Maple. So, I didn’t believe you would want to be with someone like me.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asks, looking angry that I insulted myself.

“It’s just…you have history with Maple, and you were⁠—”

“I was trying to resurrect something that was never there to begin with,” he replies. “And while I was doing that, I was developing a relationship with someone else, someone I can’t stop thinking about.” He takes a step closer. “Someone I look forward to hearing from every day.” He takes my hand in his. “Someone I crave, who I want to hold…to touch…to kiss.”

I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat as he closes in on me.

“Tell me you don’t want this, Everly, and I’ll go home. I’ll call an Uber right now. Vinnie’s probably still close, anyway. Send me away if this isn’t for you.”

“I…I don’t know,” I say, confused, truly unable to process what’s happening, unable to believe this could be real.

But my response pauses him.

His hand drops, and he takes a step back, his expression concerned, not angered.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says. “I, uh…I thought that maybe there was something there, but…yeah,” he says softly as he pulls his phone from his pocket and taps his Uber app.

Panic surges through me because even though I’ve wanted this for so long, I’m still unsure I can accept that it’s happening—but I don’t want him to leave.

His hand tugs on his hair, his posture defeated and when he says, “Fuck, I’m really sorry, Everly,” I move toward him.

I place my hand on his phone to stop him from calling an Uber and then loop my hand behind his neck right before pulling him in close. He pockets his phone, places his hand on my back, and has just enough time to cup my cheek before my lips brush against his.

It’s subtle.

A whisper of a kiss.

But instead of pulling away, I remain still, our noses touching, our breath mixing.

“Please tell me you want this,” he whispers as he presses a gentle kiss to my cheek, his hand growing tight on my back. “Please tell me I’m not the only one feeling this energy between us.”

“You’re not,” I say and then I press my lips to his again, but this time, there’s no pulling away.

Instead, our lips meld together in a slow, heady way that steals all of my breath.

His hand slides up to my neck, and then is in my hair where his fingers tangle with the thick strands. His grip, his possessive behavior, sends chills all the way up my thighs, giving me a brief preview of the kind of control he can have over me.

And when our lips part at the same time, his tongue caresses mine, gentle…slow.

There’s no urgency in his kisses, in the way he holds me.

There’s patience and exploration that’s building the temptation inside of me. The temptation for more. The temptation to drag my hand up his shirt.

The temptation to peel his clothes off.

To kneel between his legs and explore every inch of him.

“Fuck,” he mutters when his lips leave mine and move up my jaw.

I lightly moan as my hand falls to his chest, his thick, brawny chest.

“Everly,” he says. “I need…fuck, I need to leave before this gets out of hand,” he whispers into my ear before kissing back down my jaw and finding my lips again. We mold them together, caressing, tangling…drinking in the raw magnetism between us.

When he pulls away, more panic sets in—I don’t want this to end.

So, I take his hand and tug him toward my apartment, but he stops me.

“Everly, you don’t have to⁠—”

I kiss his jaw and whisper, “I need to.”

His eyes turn dark, hungry, as he wets his lips. A thrill shoots up my spine because I know in this moment that what’s about to happen will easily be the best experience in my life.

Without letting him second-guess anything, I bring him into my building, up the stairs, and as I unlock my door, his hands are on my hips, his lips on my neck as he pushes my hair to the side. This. This is what I wanted him to do last night. And it’s better than I imagined.

When we enter my apartment, he slams and locks the door, and then pushes me up against the hard wood.

A small breath escapes me right before his lips find mine and I melt into his touch.

“Fuck,” he says as he takes my hands and raises them above my head, pinning them against the door. “I want you, Everly. I want to fuck you. I want to hear you moaning, begging, screaming my name.”

Chills break out over my skin as he kisses down my neck and then back up to my jaw. Wanting more, so much more, I say, “I want your shirt off.”

He pulls away to look me in the eyes as he reaches behind his head and tugs his shirt up and over, tossing it to the floor. My eyes fall to his impressively built chest, his rock-hard pecs, his well-developed abs…the cut V that’s just above his low-hanging jeans.

When my eyes return to his, I can’t help myself. “You’re so hot.”

He smirks and then brings his hands to my pants where he undoes them and then pushes them down my hips. I kick them off and then stand in front of him in my bodysuit.

He drags his hand over his mouth right before he spins me around, revealing that I’m wearing a thong bodysuit.

“Fuck…me,” he says quietly before his hands fall to my ass, and then to my waist. He leans in his large body, brings my chin to my shoulder where he finds my lips again and kisses me, but this time, he grinds against me, his hard length to my ass.

I groan and then take one of his hands and guide it up my stomach, right to my breast.

He moans into my mouth and moves in even more as his hand cups my breast, his thumb passing over my nipple.

My head falls back, which exposes my neck where he moves his other hand, pressing his thumb along the column as he continues to kiss me.

His tongue swipes at my lips, and I open for him, matching his every stroke, letting him explore and getting caught up in the feel of him until my body is buzzing, begging for more. So, I reach down and unsnap my body suit before hiking it up around my waist and exposing my bare ass. I then press into his erection, and he moans in my ear.

It’s so deep, so guttural, that it causes me to turn in his embrace and look him in the eyes.

His breath is uneven, his expression is wild, and his hands inch up my sides, pulling my bodysuit until he tugs it all the way up and over my head, leaving me in a strapless bra.

His teeth roll over his bottom lip as he casually takes a step back and peruses my body.

He drags his hand over his mouth again as I undo the front clasp of my bra and let it fall to the floor, leaving me completely naked.

“Fuck,” he draws out.

I move to him and run my hand along his thigh and cup his impressive erection.

Keeping his eyes on me, he sensually wets his lips and undoes his jeans, pushing them down to the floor.

My heart hammers in my chest, my skin goes hot, and when he slips his boxer briefs down, I experience a full-body shiver when he grips his length and starts pumping it right in front of me.

Oh my God…he’s so fucking hot.

And he’s all mine.

I guide him through my small apartment, straight to my bed where I sit him down. I kneel in front of him, spread his legs, and move in between them.

“Everly,” he says softly as my hands crawl up his thighs, my fingernails digging across his skin. He leans back on both hands, watching me the entire time as his chest rises and falls, anticipating my mouth.

I lower to one of his thighs and press kisses along it, moving closer and closer to his cock, but pull back, letting my hair caress it instead. His length bobs, yearning for my touch, anything to ease the tension we’ve created, but I wait. Instead, I move to his other thigh and kiss his warm skin, working up, past his erection and to his stomach where his abs are crunched.

I let my hard nipple brush against his thigh as I tongue each individual ab.

“Shit, Everly,” he says as my lips move close to his cock. But instead of taking him in my mouth, I move back up his chest where I lap at his nipple. He hisses and grips his cock, giving it a few pumps as I suck his nipple into my mouth, loving the way he’s reacting. “Your mouth…fuck, Everly. I want…” His head drops back when I nibble on his nipple. “More,” he says. “I want more.”

Satisfied, I move over to his other pec, and as he pumps his cock, I work his nipple with my mouth. Nibbling, sucking, licking, playing with how hard it gets. It’s so sexy, seeing him unravel beneath my touch, hearing him moan, hearing the friction of his hand against his length.

When I pull away, I stop his hand and push it to the side, then I drag my tongue back down his chest, across his abs, and right next to his length. I pause, watching as he strains, wanting my mouth so fucking bad. I push my hair to one side and then lower my head down, taking his cock in my hand and bringing the tip to my lips where I gently start sucking and pumping him at the same time.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, his head falling back again. “Jesus…so good, Everly.”

Pleased, I move my mouth farther down his length, stretching it uncomfortably, which oddly turns me on. I can’t wait to feel him inside of me.

I continue to pump him, short concise strokes while taking him into my mouth and sucking, sucking so hard that his hips lift off the mattress.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers when I release him and take him all the way to the back of my throat. He groans loudly and then brings his hand to my hair where he fists it and guides me over his length.

Up and down.

Up and down.

I take him all the way back, gagging, and as I pull off him, I suck.

It’s a repetitive process that has his hips thrusting toward my mouth, his breath becoming labored, and his possessive hold on me growing erratic to the point that when I lift up one more time, he pulls me away, removing my mouth completely.

With a dazed look, he says, “Going to come…got to stop.”

He lies flat on the bed, catching his breath, but I don’t let him. Instead, I bring my mouth back to his cock, and I continue to suck him in.

“Everly…fuck,” he says out of surprise, but I keep going. I take him to the back of my throat, I move my hand between his legs and cup his balls, playing with them. I then run the thumb of my other hand over his nipple.

His body tenses beneath me.

His groans grow louder.

And his legs part just before he thrusts up into my mouth and lets out a feral sound.

“Fuck…” he shouts.

His hips still, his muscles contract, and then on a final moan, he’s coming in my mouth. I swallow as he rides out his orgasm until his hips relax and he melts into my mattress, and that’s when I release him.

I crawl up his body as he catches his breath and kiss along his neck, along his jaw, to his lips, and then to his ear where I whisper, “I want your tongue.”

When I lift up, his eyes meet mine and he says, “Then sit on my goddamn face.”

Then to my surprise, he lifts me up and makes me straddle his chest. He grips my ass as he encourages me farther up his body until I’m directly over his face.

“Mmm, you smell amazing,” he says right before he presses his tongue against my clit.

“Oh fuck,” I say.

“Shit, you’re so wet.” His tongue makes another swipe and then I’m transported to another place, a place where only he and I exist, and this pleasure lasts forever. “Play with your tits, Everly.”

I cup my breasts.

“No,” he says. “Tease them. Circle your nipples, barely touch them. I want you torturing yourself, throbbing, so fucking needy.”

I feel another wave of arousal hit me from his command. I can already feel the sweet torture, the moment when he’s going to let me fall over. I know it’s going to be so good.

I do as I’m told and lightly circle the tips of my fingers around my nipples just as he starts to stroke his tongue over my clit.

I let out a hiss as my hand falls forward and I press it against the wall, propping myself up.

“Oh my God, Hardy,” I say, my stomach clenching.

A few strokes, that’s all it took.

A few fucking strokes and I’m already so close.

“You going to come?” he asks, almost sounding confused.

“I’m…” He strokes my clit again. “Fuck, I’m…I’m sorry,” I say feeling my short trigger ready to fire off.

He pauses, his breath warm on my arousal. He lets me catch myself, allowing the yearning to grow and as I continue to circle my nipples, playing with them gently, my inner walls start to contract, without him even touching me.

“Fuck,” I say as my eyes squeeze shut. “I don’t…fuck, I don’t want to come.”

I try to take deep breaths.

I attempt to settle my brain, to get away from anything but this moment, but it’s useless.

I keep playing with my nipples.

I keep feeling his mouth so close to where I want it.

The throbbing between my legs grows.

“God,” I say as my body hums, climbs…edges so close. “Hardy, I⁠—”

His mouth closes around my slit and he sucks on me, making my eyes shoot open and my orgasm immediately rip through me.

“Oh my God,” I yell as my body seizes and his tongue flicks over my clit with fast, short strokes, urging my orgasm to continue, my body shaking and shivering. “Ohhhhhhh…” I slap my hand against the wall, my stomach hollowing, my pelvis riding over his face as I seek out more pleasure until there is nothing left to give.

That’s when I slow down, let out a deep breath, and then fall off to the side and land on the mattress, my body feeling completely weightless.

I bring both of my hands to my eyes, humiliated that I came so quickly, but they’re removed and when I open my eyes to see Hardy hovering over me, his gaze still hungry, the embarrassment starts to slide away.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” I say.

“On your stomach,” he says.

“What?”

He lifts off me of the bed and flips me to my stomach. Then he takes a pillow and props it under my pelvis.

“This ass is perfect,” he says right before his hand connects with my right ass cheek.

“Oh fuck,” I say while he smooths the sting away. “Oh my God, Hardy.”

“You like that?” he asks.

“Y-yes,” I say, surprising myself.

“Good,” he replies. “Because the fucking things I want to do to you.” He spanks me again, this time twice in a row, causing a fresh wave of arousal to travel up my spine. A feeling I wasn’t expecting so early, not after coming so hard.

“I want this ass. I want my dick inside of it.” He spanks me again. “I want my dick in your mouth again. I want you gagging as I fuck your throat.” He spanks me two more times. “I want your greedy cunt squeezing my cock. I want to fill you up with my cum.” He spanks me one more time. “I don’t want you thinking about anyone but me.”

“I haven’t,” I say. “For a long time.”

I feel him pause for a moment. “How long?”

“From the moment I first met you,” I admit.

He leans his body over mine and turns my head so I can meet his eyes. And then he captures my mouth. I taste myself on his tongue as he molds our lips together, dances his tongue across mine, makes out with me to the point that I’m gasping for air.

When he pulls away, he says, “You never said anything.”

“Too nervous,” I say.

“You should have,” he says. “Now I have to make up for lost time.” He lifts up and spanks me one more time before pressing his fingers along my wet pussy. “Do you get turned on for other men like this?”

“Never,” I say. “You are it.”

He growls and then lowers his head. He spreads me and then slips his tongue in my hole, surprising me and creating a new sensation I’ve never felt before.

A sensation that has me sweating with need.

A sensation that brings me right back to where I was a few seconds ago, longing and searching for release.

“Hardy,” I groan, as my fist curls against the mattress. “Close.”

“Fuck,” he says as he pulls away. “Everly, that’s so hot.” He runs his hands over my ass, caressing, smoothing his warm palm over my skin. “I want inside of you, but I want you bare. Can I take you, all of you?”

I feel his cock run over my crack and the anticipation of him being inside of me nearly breaks me in half.

“Yes,” I say. “I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“I’m clean too,” he says in a strangled voice. “So, I can have you? All of you?”

“Take everything,” I say as he growls out his appreciation.

Then I feel him at my entrance, his cock poised and ready.

“I can already tell you’re going to be so goddamn tight.” He lets out a deep breath, spanks me, and as I moan, he enters me, his cock stretching me just like I thought he would.

“Oh my God,” I yell as he pushes in farther.

“Need you to relax,” he says. He strokes my ass, running his hand soothingly over me. “Come on, Everly, relax for me.”

“I…can I…can I see you?”

He pauses behind me and then slides out before helping me flip over. When our eyes meet, he smirks down at me before leaning forward and taking my mouth with his. Loving how this man can ease me with just his mouth, I sink into the mattress as I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. He thrusts his cock over my slit as we make out, and it helps me to relax some more so I release him, bringing his cock back to my entrance, and let him slowly insert himself.

His chest ripples with tension.

The muscles in his neck strain.

And his abs tighten with every inch he pushes inside me.

His eyes grow heavy as he looks at me again and wets his lips. “Your cunt is fucking incredible.” Then he pushes the last few inches, bottoming out, and causing us both to moan in tandem.

From there, he doesn’t move, he just allows me to adjust, but I feel so full, so aroused, so needy that I keep my legs wrapped around him and encourage him to thrust.

“Hold on, Everly,” he says. “I want to give you a second.”

I shake my head. “No. Need you to fuck me.”

“Christ,” he says as he lowers his hands to the mattress and leans forward. “I want to keep this slow.”

“No, please, Hardy.”

But he doesn’t listen. He bends and laps at my nipples. “You have perfect tits,” he whispers. “Fuck, they’re so hot. You’re so hot. I could get lost here for hours.” He sucks one of my nipples into his mouth and releases it, then sucks it back in and nibbles, then releases.

I’m clawing at his back as he repeats the movement, causing my entire body to throb, to yearn, seeking the friction between us.

He keeps me feeling so incredibly full while he plays with my breasts.

How can he have such control?

I’m losing my mind.

I’m ready to explode.

To beg and plead for anything.

“Hardy, please,” I say again. “I want you to fill me with your cum.”

He pauses and lifts his head just enough to look me in the eyes. “Say that again.”

I think I hit a nerve, so I wet my lips and say, “Fill me with your cum.”

His eyes go dark, and something switches inside of him. The teasing is gone. The control has slipped.

He lifts up, grips my hips, and starts pounding into me.

He’s relentless.

His pace is out of this world.

And with every thrust of his hips, I lose my breath, making me gasp.

I’ve never been this thoroughly fucked, but I’m loving every second of it.

I’m becoming addicted to the press of his fingers into my hips.

The thickness of his cock sliding in and out of me.

The guttural groans that fall past his lips.

“Fuck, your pussy is so tight. God, too fucking good.”

His hand presses down on my lower abdomen, creating a deeper wave of friction. It feels incredible.

Impossible, almost.

Nothing should feel this good. This amazing.

Nothing should light me on fire like this, bring me to the edge so fast.

“Hardy, shit, I’m…I’m close.”

“Same,” he grunts out and continues to pound into me, over and over, bringing me closer and closer, edging me to the point that my legs fall to weightlessness.

My stomach bottoms out.

And my muscles contract.

With one final thrust, he sends me into a tailspin of white-hot pleasure, my orgasm zinging through me, pulsing through my bones.

“Oh fuck,” I scream as I contract around his cock, squeezing him to the point that he straightens, stiffens, and then I feel him spill inside of me.

“Fuck…me,” he yells.

He doesn’t move, instead, he rides out his orgasm as I contract around him.

“Fuck me,” he repeats, this time muttering it.

He looks down at me and a smile crosses his face before he lowers and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to my lips. When he pulls away an inch, he says, “You just made me black out.”

I chuckle and run my hand over his beard. “Same, Hardy.”

Freaking same.

“I can getmy own drink, you know,” Hardy says from where he lies in my bed.

“I know, but I’m up.”

“And covered,” he says in a disgruntled tone.

I glance over my shoulder and smirk. “You think I’m just going to walk naked around you now?”

“I would prefer that, thanks.”

I feel my cheeks go red as I turn away from him and grab a glass from my cabinet.

Hardy Hopper and I just had sex.

Full-on, he came inside of me, big-time sex, and I am still considering this all a dream. I think any minute now I’m going to wake up and this amazing, mind-alternating feeling I’m experiencing is going to be taken away from me as if it never happened. I have no trust in something so monumental happening to me.

And yet, when I look over my shoulder, at my bed, there he is, staring at me, watching my every move, making me feel like I’m the only woman he’s ever cared to look at.

I turn away from him again and fill up a cup of water to share, the entire time a smile is plastered across my face.

When I bring the water over to him, he takes my hand in his and pulls me down on the bed so I’m resting against the wall, and he’s propped up on an arm. I pass him the water, and he takes a sip before handing it back to me. His hand falls to my thigh, and he stares into my eyes, making me blush all over again.

“What?” I ask, feeling shy.

“Nothing,” he says.

“You keep staring at me.”

“Do you want me to stare at the wall?” he asks. “Because right about now, I’ll do pretty much anything you say.”

“Anything?” I ask.

His hand slides up my thigh as an evil grin spreads across his lips. “Anything.”

I set the water down on my nightstand and then slide down the bed, so my head is resting on the pillow and I’m looking up at him. His hand finds the hem of his shirt I’m wearing, and he slides it under, making contact with my hip.

His thumb teases my skin as he rubs back and forth, igniting a burning ember that never went out.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his eyes scanning my face.

Once again, my cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” I say as my teeth pull on the corner of my lip.

“I love it when your hair is down.”

I bring my hand to his beard. “I love it when your face is between my legs.”

His brow lifts. “Wow, that got dirty very quickly. Here I was complimenting you on your beauty and you went there.”

I shrug. “Just telling you like it is.”

“Well, you could have started out slow, maybe complimented me on my nostrils. You went on and on about Tomothy’s, but I’ve got squat over here.”

I let out a low chuckle. “I’m sorry.” I clear my throat. “Oh Hardy, you have the sexiest nostrils that I’ve ever looked upon. The cleanest air tunnel award goes to you.”

His hand slides higher up my hip, straight to my ribcage where his thumb rests just below my breast. “Probably one of the best compliments I’ve ever received.”

“Then people aren’t complimenting you enough,” I say as I smooth my hand over his beard.

“Well, I’ve been hanging out with you a lot, so maybe I should be pointing the finger at you. Where have my compliments been?”

I wet my lips. “Bottled up because I wouldn’t dare say what I really thought.”

“Why not?” he asks as his thumb strokes the underside of my breast. The light touch makes my skin tingle.

“Because you were trying to get with someone else,” I answer honestly.

“Yeah, and look who I’m with now,” he says.

“Because you want to be?” I ask, my voice full of insecurity. “Or because we might have had a few too many drinks and Jell-O shots?”

“Because I want to be. The drinks just gave me the courage I needed.”

“You didn’t need the courage,” I say as I bring my hand down his chest and then nudge him to lie down on his back. He complies, and I sit up and remove the shirt. His eyes immediately fall to my chest as I straddle his body. “I’ve been waiting for my turn,” I say as I press my chest to his and cup his face. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

His hands run along my back and then over the curve of my ass.

“Fuck,” he whispers as I start rocking over his lap, loving the feel of him growing hard beneath me.

I bring my mouth to his and devour his lips, letting my passion fuel the fire that’s building inside of me. I don’t ever want this to end. I want him, all of him, every day. I want to show him how much I depend on his smile, his laughter, his understanding.

I want his encouragement.

I want these private, intimate conversations.

I want these long, naked nights.

I want warm, smiling mornings.

I want none of this to end.

“Christ, Everly,” he says as I slide over his cock, my arousal evident. “You’re so wet.”

“Because I want you,” I say.

He wets his lips and his eyes lock with mine. “Then have me.” He scoots me back, grips his cock, and then says, “Fuck me.”

The arrogance in his stare.

The confidence in his smile.

It’s a lethal combination that has me throbbing for release, so I lift up on my knees, move over him, and then slowly slide down over his cock. He places both hands behind his head, and bites down on his lower lip while I take him all the way in, until I’m completely full.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his voice gravelly, which sends shivers all the way up my legs and to my clit.

Hands on his chest, I start to rock over him, taking it very slow and allowing myself to feel the friction we create, the way his large cock feels inside of me, touching places I’ve never experienced before.

It’s filling.

It’s addictive.

It’s dangerously captivating.

“That’s it, Everly,” he says. “Use my cock.”

My fingers curl into his chest as my speed picks up, the friction too great as my clit rubs against him, each pass like a shock wave to my system. The telltale sign of my orgasm starts to build at the base of my spine.

“Your cock is so good,” I say as I move even faster. “Fuck, Hardy.”

He groans and grips my hips, encouraging me to move faster, harder. Guiding me to grind down on him, which increases the pleasure for me.

“That’s it, Everly. Fucking use me.”

I release my hands from his chest and lean back, letting my grip fall to his thighs as I continue to rock over him, the new angle hitting me in a completely different way. My mouth falls open and a long, drawn-out moan leaves my lips.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says as he runs his hand up my stomach and to my breast. He cups me first and then with every roll of my hips, he swipes his thumb over my hardened nipple. A hiss escapes me as every touch ignites me even more to the point that my legs start to tingle, my core starts to constrict, and my body prepares for another orgasm to rock through me.

“Fuck, I’m close,” I say, and I pause, not wanting to fall over just yet. I take a few deep breaths, but he doesn’t let me catch myself, because he grips my hips and starts thrusting up inside of me. “Hardy, I’m…I said I’m…fuck…I’m there.”

“Good. Come on my cock.”

I fly forward again and position my hands on his pecs. My head falls forward, my hair blocking my vision as I rock hard on him.

Over and over.

My hips flying.

My stomach bottoming out.

My breath gasping.

Everything inside of me tightens, and it feels like the room stills as my mind focuses on one thing and one thing only—the way my clit rides over him.

“Oh God, Hardy,” I cry out as the first wave hits me.

Then the second.

And before I know it, my entire body is seizing as my orgasm rips through me, sending me into a convulsing mess as I search out all the pleasure.

My hips are wild.

My moans are feral.

And my fingers dig into him as I come all over his cock.

“Holy fuck,” he says right before he flips me to my back, spreads my legs, and starts pounding into me—the strength of his thrusts brings me right up to the surface of the wall where I brace my hand. “Fuck, so good. Your pussy is so fucking good,” he shouts right before he stills, and I feel him come inside of me for the second time of the night.

And it’s so sexy.

Every muscle in his chest and stomach fires off.

His eyes are squeezed shut.

And his teeth pull on the corner of his lip right before he releases his tension and collapses onto me.

I wrap my arms and legs around him as he presses sweet, gentle kisses to my neck.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters right before lifting up to look me in the eyes. He doesn’t say anything—just stares at me in disbelief, and I do the same, because right here, in this moment, I know for a fact that I have found my person. His humor, his kindness, his sexual drive, his intelligence, his love for my comfort—the way he not only anticipates my needs but also provides for them—his passion. This is the man for me.

He lowers his mouth to mine and lightly kisses me. I thread my hands into his hair and kiss him back, never wanting to let go.

Oh.

My.

God.

My vagina feels phenomenal.

And I don’t say that lightly.

I mean, this girl is absolutely, without a doubt, one hundred percent satisfied.

There’s an ache between my legs.

My breasts feel sore in the best way possible.

And the clarity in my mind right now almost feels unreal.

There is not a single person on this planet that can tell me Hardy was not made for me.

Because he was.

His body, the perfect size.

His penis, even better.

And his knowledge on how to pleasure me, out of this world.

Waking up has never felt this amazing, and there is one person to give credit to: Hardy Hopper.

Smiling, I stretch my hands above my head and then flutter my eyes open, looking for the man who just convinced me that I’ve found my happily ever after. I glance to the right where he fell asleep and when I come up short, with no man next to me, concern takes root in my gut.

My eyes fall to the floor where his clothes were but are now gone.

And I sit up, nervous that he left, just as the bathroom door opens and he pops out.

I quickly cover up my breasts with my blankets, even though he spent the night sucking on them, and smile.

“Oh…hi,” I say as I take him all in. Why is he dressed?

He scratches the back of his head, his eyes, locked on me. “Hey,” he says, his voice coming out all scratchy.

“Are you, uh…leaving?” Please say no, please say no.

He thumbs toward the door and says, “Yeah, was going to take off.”

“Oh, sure, yeah.” I worry my lip.

Why is he leaving so early? I thought…well, I thought that maybe we could have spent the morning together.

“Have an early start to the day,” he adds.

A sense of panic hits me as I read his body language. Someone who had an intense night and enjoyed it probably wouldn’t be slowly leaning toward the exit. My assumption would be he’d be cupping my cheek, kissing me, and telling me how much he enjoyed the night before.

Did I read this wrong? All his words of how much he wanted me, of how I was perfect in his arms. Beautiful. Was it all…was this just a drunken night for him?

A way to blow off steam?

Was it all meaningless?

“Of course,” I say, feeling all kinds of awkward. “Work, work, work.”

“Yup, got to love that work,” he replies, looking away.

“So much work,” I say because, oh God, this is awful.

“All the work,” he mumbles.

He’s avoiding me.

I fell asleep last night thinking that what we just shared was the start of something amazing.

And I’ve woken up to the gut-wrenching feeling that I’m the only one who thought that.

Don’t be clingy, Everly. This was probably just one night, and he used all the right words so that you’d feel wooed. Well, it worked. But now, I just feel stupid. Fooled.

A tense silence falls between us as I stare down at my sheets. “Yeah.” Feeling so vulnerable but not wanting him to leave without making sure I didn’t cross a line, I stutter, “I, uh, I hope I didn’t do anything wrong.”

His eyes quickly flash to mine. “No, you didn’t. It was…last night was…phenomenal. Really fucking great.”

Relief washes through me because, yeah, it was great.

Better than great.

It altered me in a way, and I don’t think I can go back to who I was before.

“Yeah, it was.”

“The best,” he says.

“Easily,” I reply.

“Like, my world is different now,” he says, surprising me. Because yes, same, Hardy. Freaking same. Although, somehow, I don’t think he’s being sincere, especially when he says, “Well, I should be going.”

I feel my expression fall because I thought that maybe he would stay. “You don’t, uh…you don’t want any coffee or anything?”

He shakes his head as he grabs his shoes and slips them on. He’s bolting, but why? “Nah, I’ll pick something up. But thanks.”

“Okay.” I worry my lip, my mind spinning a million miles a minute. It’s like he can’t leave fast enough.

“So, yeah, thanks for last night, but I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

See me around?

He’ll see me around?

After he just said that last night was phenomenal, now he’s just going to casually see me around? How does that make sense?

The truth is, it doesn’t.

“Yeah.” I avert my eyes away from him because I can’t look at him right now, not when I feel myself clawing desperately for any sort of wisdom to help make this make sense. Because he said things last night, intimate things. He made me believe that what we shared was special, so what am I missing? “Um, before you leave, not sure how much alcohol took over last night, but…you said some things…”

He passes his hand over his face. “Yeah, there was lots of alcohol, huh?” he says. “People say weird things when alcohol is involved.”

So is that what it all was?

An alcohol-charged night?

If so, then why didn’t it feel like it? Why did it feel like there was so much clarity, like both of us were more focused and present than filled with alcohol and bad choices?

Maybe I read him wrong.

Maybe I’ve read this entire situation wrong.

Maybe he doesn’t even want me.

Maybe I was just a way for him to let out his frustration.

His frustration over not going home with Maple.

Maybe I’m the consolation prize. The second choice, the one who said yes at the right moment.

The mere thought of that makes me feel physically ill. I don’t want to believe it, but from the way he’s got one foot out the door, it’s hard not to believe.

“Okay, yeah, I get it.” I softly smile, and when I meet his eyes, I feel dead inside. Like the conversation stole the life from me, and I’m just sitting here, naked and on my bed, soulless. “You know, I still think you have a chance with Maple. I saw you guys talking, so, you know, if you want me to still try to make that happen, I can.”

He doesn’t answer right away. He looks away and shifts on his feet, as if he really needs to think about his answer.

Come on, Hardy, stop pretending, I think we both know what you want.

You got some relief with me, but the real prize is the girl you didn’t take home last night.

Finally, he says, “That, uh, that would be awesome.”

Just what I thought.

Any remaining joy or hope that was left inside of me, that was holding out, completely vanishes as I turn into an empty shell.

He used me.

He told me what I wanted to hear and then took what he needed.

That’s not what friends do.

That’s not what nice men are supposed to do.

All that trust we built, the friendship we created, it’s all shot to hell now.

Torn down.

Buried.

And as I sit here, the feel of his beard burn still prickling between my legs, I stare up at him, lifeless. “Okay, well, see you.”

He pauses, and for a split second, I think that maybe he’s going to take back everything he said, that he’s going to tell me that this is some cruel joke he was put up to, but instead, he raises his hand in a wave and says, “See ya,” before exiting my apartment.

The click of the door shutting behind him rings through my small space, indicating his departure. I can finally let go of the tight hold I have on my emotions.

I slide down to my pillow, curl into the scent of him, and I cry.