Best Friends Pt. 01

"We do have water though," he continued.

"Good." She took a sip. "Wow. It's not brain numbing cold."

"I wouldn't know."

"Here."

He took the water bag. "I'm mean, you'd need a brain to know if it went numb."

"Oh stop it." She folded her arms. "Why must you always put yourself down?"

"It's a habit."

"Get rid of it. It pisses me off."

"Better pissed off than pissed on, wouldn't you say?"

She shot him a glare and whirled away. She stalked back down the trail at an impressive clip.

"Angel? You might want to—" As if in slow motion, her legs shot out from under her and she fell to the frozen ground.

"Ow. Goddamn it."

"— be careful." He covered the distance to her in three long strides. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine." Her voice was almost a snarl. She stood and her right leg buckled.

His arm went around her waist in a blink, and he held her upright. "Swing your leg from the hip for me."

"I'm fine. I don't need you fuss—"

At his growl, she cut herself off and did as he said. She braced herself against him and allowed her leg to swing freely.

"Any pain?"

She shook her head. He carried her to a tree and had her lean against it. He slid his hand down the back of her thigh. "Try to bend your knee." She managed to bend it fifteen degrees before gasping. "Now straighten it."

She did so without trouble. Placing her foot on his thigh as he knelt on the cold ground, he lightly squeezed the area around her kneecap with his thumb and index finger. Fortunately, he only detected a bit of tenderness. "Okay, your knee isn't broken, and based on the lack of swelling, I'm thinking there isn't a sprain either. However, as you can tell, it is sore as fuck."

"That's an understatement."

"Indeed." He rose. "We're about five miles out." Moving to her left side, he lifted her into his arms.

"Put me down, I'm too heavy for you."

He snorted in response and swung into a yard long stride. Her left arm was draped across his shoulders and her right over her belly.

She thought she'd feel silly, or weak with him carrying her, but all she felt was safety and comfort. She knew all he wanted was to care for her, to show her how much he loved her. The poor guy didn't seem to understand that his regard was communicated with his every action. He deserved better than her, but he was too stubborn to see it. He always insisted she was the one for him no matter how badly she treated him. And, he'd always defend her, saying either he deserved her harshness, or that she was merely venting and that was what he was there for. He didn't seem to get how much it tore her up when he claimed to be deserving of her bitching.

She smiled. He'd get indignant if he could read her mind. He hated how she called herself a bitch, claiming she only did so because her husband did so. That thought wiped the smile from her.

"Put me down. I can walk." She winced at the harshness in her voice. She made sure not to look at him. She didn't want to see how she hurt him yet again. It would be better for him if he got mad and left her, moved on with his life.

He did as she bade, but kept his arm around her. She tried to pull away, but her knee wasn't yet ready to support her weight just yet. Once more he swept her into his arms and resumed his relentless march back.

"I didn't ask you to carry me again."

"Stifle yourself," he said. She opened her mouth to protest. "Or I'll spank you. Not in the good way, either."

"You wouldn't."

"Wanna bet?"

She fell silent. She knew better than to push him after that challenge. Every time she'd answered in the affirmative, he'd backed up his words with a swiftness that belied his usual laissez-faire attitude. It was almost like it was an irresistible dare, or a challenge to his word.

Then again, she'd never had cause to regret accepting said wager. He'd spanked her two years ago on her birthday, but it wasn't as he'd threatened. It had taken all of her will power to not come on his lap in front of their mutual friend. It had been so hard. After each swat on his large hand on her butt, he gently caressed the sting away. As he rubbed, his hand would slide down to stroke her pussy from behind. The memory triggered her arousal and she squirmed.

"Are you okay, Baby Girl?"

"Yes." She met his concerned look. "Please put me down so I can walk."

"Carrying you is easy."

"What if you slip on the snow like I did?"

"I doubt I would. I've got more experience with travelling on snow."

"I grew up in New York, remember?"

"And you've lived in Florida for the past eleven years, remember?"

"So? I still have experience with snow."

"Does your body remember it?"

"That's ridiculous, of course it does."

"Did you, or did you not, say that you found 80 degrees cold?"

"I was being facetious."

"If you say so." He carefully set her on the ground.

"Are you humoring me?"

"I'm electing to take your word on being able to walk on your own, and not allow this conversation to devolve into an argument. I'm conceding."

She nodded and they resumed heading back. "How far are we now?"

They came to the wide road from earlier. "About two miles on the trail yet. We're actually about four from the hotel."

"I thought we were five miles away."

"I'm sorry. I meant we were five miles along the trail."

"Oh. Okay." After crossing the street, the trail went downhill. "It's so much easier going down."

"Going down is my favorite part."

"Oh Jesus."

He chuckled. He took her hand again as they crossed the trestle bridge again. When they exited the trailhead, he stopped her. "I have a crazy idea."

"What's that?"

"Hop on my back for a piggy back ride."

"No."

"Why not?"

"For one, I'm too heavy. For another, I don't want to."

"You're not too heavy." He peered closely at her. "Do you not want to because of him?"

"I can walk by myself."

"It's not about you being able to walk. It's about having fun and being silly."

"I'm not interested."

He looked crestfallen. "Okay."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not doing what you want."

"Obviously, you don't have to. Nor should you feel bad for it." He shrugged. "We're not obligated to do everything I want. Your wants and desires are important to me."

"Thank you."

***

Back in her hotel room, he smiled at her. "Why not take a nap, Angel? I'll head out for an hour, and you can rest."

"But, I came to visit you."

"Alright." He scooped her into his arms, carried her to the bed, and laid her down on it.

She scrambled to sit up, but his hand on the small of her back paused her movements. "What do you have in mind?"

"You'll see."

"Tell me." She twisted her head side to side to see what he was up to, but couldn't get a bead on his motions.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Yes, but—" He straddled her hips, his knees to either side of her butt. His hands went to her trapezius muscles and began to move in tight spirals. She moaned. "No fair!"

"Why not?" His hands, continuing their spiral patterns, slid lower along her back.

"I don't want to sleep." A huge yawn escaped her.

"You were saying?" He added a slight amount of pressure to his hands.

She moaned again. As his hands went over her muscles, he felt the tension melting from them. His hands went out along her shoulders, soothing and relaxing her deltoids. By the time he reached her latissimus dorsi, the longest muscles in the back, she was sound asleep. He continued down her body until he reached her butt and rose from the bed.

He jotted a note for her and left it next to the lamp where she was certain to see it. He slipped out of her room after swiping one of her room keys and exited the hotel a few moments later. Hailing a cab, he directed it to his home.

***

She came awake with a stretch and a smile. She always felt relaxed after a massage induced nap. She knew he knew this and it was why he did it. She still didn't have to like it. Oh well. Too late to complain. Or to think about the dream she'd had. She sat up and looked around. He wasn't in the room. She spotted a card standing against the bedside lamp. Picking it up, she read the note left on it.

'My love, You looked so relaxed and peaceful, I decided to let you continue to sleep. I'm heading out to pick up a couple of things. I should be back around the time you awaken. I hope your dreams were pleasant. I love you.'

She smiled. Of course he let her sleep. He made sure she would in the first place. She snorted and rose from the bed. After another luxurious stretch, she went to the bathroom. A few minutes later, while drying her hands after washing them, a soft knock sounded at her door.

She opened it to find him in a tan, knee-length trench coat, black slacks and black loafers. In his hands were a clear plastic box with a carnation within and a white bag. His dark hair was slicked back and his face was freshly shaven.

"Why're you all dressed up?"

"You'll see. May I come in?" She stepped back and he entered. He handed her the white bag. "I have a couple of presents for you."

"What are they?"

"One is in the bag. Open it and you'll see."

She did as he said and found a white box inside. She removed it and lifted the lid. A beautiful azure piece of fabric was carefully placed within. She lifted it, and was a little surprised to discover it was a dress. "What's this for?"

"This." He handed her a white envelope.

She opened it and read the piece of paper within. "Box seat tickets confirmation from the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra." She looked at him. "Seriously?"

"Indeed. A belated happy birthday, my love."

She gave him a small smile and ducked into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, she returned. He faced the window, staring out at the city traffic on the street below. She watched him for a few minutes, admiring the way the shirt and slacks fit him. The trench coat and sport jacket were draped over the back of a nearby wingchair. She cleared her throat and he turned. The sight of her made his breath catch in his chest.

The sleeveless sky-blue sheathe dress clung to her body in all the right places. It was snug without showing lines. Either that, or she wasn't wearing underwear. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, her normal way of wearing it. Her hand went up and touched her hair.

"What?" She sounded self-conscious, and uncertain.

He released the breath he'd been holding without noticing. "You are spell-binding, my love."

"You're too kind."

He crossed the short distance between them in a couple of steps. "Not hardly." He took her hands in his, raised them to his lips, and placed soft, gentle kisses over her knuckles. "I will be the envy of every man there tonight."

"It's just a dress."

"On any other woman, yes. On you, it is a work of art."

"Laying it on thick, aren't you?"

He scratched his chin. "What?"

"The flattery."

His head went back a bit. "Flattery? My love, flattery is mere empty words meant to gain someone something. My words are sincere admiration."

"Are you saying you no longer want my body?"

"I'll never say that. I want all of you, remember?"

"Then are your words not meant to get me to agree to join you on that bed?"

"Angel, I don't need words to get you in that bed." He scooped her in his arms and, stepping over to the four poster, lay her on it. He grinned at her as she swiftly rose. "See?"

"Smart ass."

"Indeed." She reached up to straighten his tie and he placed his hands on her hips. She froze. He glanced down and met her gaze. He gave her a lopsided smile when she visibly swallowed. "Hey, Angel?"

"What?" Her voice was tiny.

"Guess what?" He felt her tremble at the rasp of his voice.

"What's that?"

He brought his face closer to hers until their lips all but touched. Her heart beat faster in her chest until it felt like it was trying to escape. She waited what felt like an eternity for him to speak or kiss her. She knew she was done for if he did kiss her. She would surrender completely to him. She didn't understand how, but he seemed to know her body better than she did.

"I am in love with you, Baby Girl."

His words were a whisper that caused his lips to caress her own with each syllable. Tired of his teasing, she pull him closer and pressed her lips more fully to his. They parted and she slipped her tongue inside his mouth, kissing him just as he'd taught her.

He groaned at her demanding kiss and allowed her to stay in charge. This was a novel situation for him. He'd longed for this over the years, and had revealed his desire for a woman to take the lead to her shortly after they met. As her tongue slid over his, her fingers twined through his hair. He reached around and cupped her ass, eliciting a moan from her.

She stepped back, breathing hard. He waited, not daring to move for fear it would ruin the moment. Her head was tilted forward so she could study him. She wondered if he would take over, or no. A subtle shift of his posture told her he would not. She shoved him to the bed, and he sat. She undid his tie and removed it. She planned to restrain him to the headboard, but his hands, gliding up her thighs, grazing her skin caused her to pause as her knees almost buckled.

"Stop." She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to focus again. She looked into his eyes. "I'm in charge."

"Yes'm." His eyes gleamed.

"Lay back and stretch your arms over your head."

Wordless, he did as she ordered. As she wrapped his tie around his wrists, she felt him tremble beneath her. She laced the necktie over the headboard of the bed and slid down his body, reveling in the feel of her sex, protected only by the thin cotton of her bikini briefs, gliding over the roughness of his shirt buttons and then the buckle to his belt. She shivered at the deliciousness.

Leaning over him, pressing her body tightly to his, she nipped lightly at his neck. She delighted at the throb of his pulse under her tongue and then pushed against his chest like she was doing a pushup. His heart beat was rapid under her palms. His breathing was so hard, each expansion of his chest lifted her a few inches despite her weight. She shifted downward, allowing her heaviness to rest on her knees on either side of his hips. The bulge of his hard dick managed to fit perfectly between her labia. Only three layers of cotton separated their flesh. No, wait. She'd forgotten. His didn't wear underwear, so it was only two layers.

She bit her lip. His hazel eyes, now darkened to almost black due to his desire, were locked on her. She moved to the right, and then quickly to the left, giggling at how his eyes tracked her. Her chortle ceased when he lifted his hips a little, reminding her of his want. Her eyes rolled back as his movement caused his dick to press against her clit for a moment.

She slowly looked at him again as she flexed her fingers against his chest. Galvanized, she tore open his shirt, wanting to touch his bare chest. It was hard and hairy. Completely masculine.

He gazed up at her. Eyes half closed, her breathing was swift and shallow. A faint blush rose above the collar of her new dress. Though this was a novel position to be in, instinct made him want to free himself from his bondage, grip her hips, and roll her beneath him. Part of him felt that that was the proper way of things. He was supposed to be in control. Taking the lead, giving pleasure and receiving it vicariously. No one was supposed to pleasure him. That was his job. He knew his line of thinking was due to always having been the one to be the initiator and one in charge. Ten sexual partners. All had basically been submissive to him. Their pleasure was always of utmost importance to him, but he still led. He wasn't sure that he wanted to be like this again. For now, he'd see where she went.

She slid down his thighs to his knees and unfastened his belt. She then unbuttoned his slacks and slowly drew down his zipper. Reaching into his pants, she gently grasped and withdrew his throbbing hardness. For the first time, after three years of knowing, loving, and lusting after each other, she held his dick in the light. Some would say once your saw one, you've seen them all, but this was special. It was his. In her hand, his dick was big as hell.

Slowly, she slid his hand up to the crown and then drug her thumb over the tip. He gasped at the same time it jumped. She smiled and decided to experiment. She grazed the shaft of his dick with the edges of her finger nails. This triggered a groan and an arching of his hips. Next, she skimmed her fingertips over the same area. His breath hissed through his teeth.

"Be careful, Angel."

"Does it hurt?"

"No, but if you continue, you'll make me come."

"Really? That quick?"

He nodded. "What can I say? You have this... power... over me."

"Power, huh?" She turned her hand and lightly gripped him. "What if I do this?" Her hand moved back and forth over his dick as she kissed his neck.

He drew a shuddery breath. "This isn't fair."

"No?"

"No."

"But it is fair when you have control, right?"

"Yes."

"Why?" She paused and looked into his eyes.

"Didn't you say you were always in control with all your lovers and fantasized what it would be like for one to take over?"

"I did. As did you."

"I got to experience that. You haven't."

"You didn't really."

"Why didn't I?"

"Masturbation doesn't really count."

"It does."

"How so?"

"It was sexual pleasure."

"True, but wasn't it limited?"

"No. I had an orgasm." She traced her thumb over the tip of his dick. "More than one. And they were amazing."

"Oh? What made them amazing?"

"Part of it was because they were caused by you."

"And the other part?"

"Because you seemed to know me better than I knew myself. Not only did you show me things I never experienced, but you showed me things I never imagined. Hell, things I didn't know I could imagine."

He smiled. "Good. I'm glad I was able to bring you some pleasure." He glanced up at the headboard where his wrists were bound. "What's with tying me up, though?"

She traced the outline of his nipple. "It's a fantasy of mine. Being totally in control, being able to do anything I want." She lightly pinched it. He gasped. "And, it's something you've mentioned that you were interested in trying."

"Fair point. It is a bit unexpected, though."

"Why is that?"

"I never imagined this side of you. You've not said anything about tying someone up."

"Surprises are a good thing."

"Sometimes. Others, not so much."

"For instance?"

"When a husband catches his best friend in bed with his wife." She froze, and then moved off him. She reached up, untied his hands, sat on the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands. He sat up and touched her shoulder. "Angel?" No answer. He moved off the bed and knelt at her feet. "What's wrong, Baby Girl?"

"I'm a horrible person." The words were soft, almost inaudible.

"What?" He gently took her hand. "You're not."

Eyes closed, she nodded her head. "I am."

"How so?"

"I'm a cheater."

He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "You're not. Cheaters never win, and you're a winner."

"I'm a loser."

"Only when you consider the booby prize that is me."

"Stop. You're no booby prize. You're better than I deserve."

"How is that possible?"

"Because I'm a mean, old, bitter, angry, broken bitch."

"No. You're not a bitch." He reached out and lifted her chin so she could see the intensity and love in his eyes. "You're also not old, or broken. Angry and bitter?" He nodded. "I'd agree with that. Who wouldn't be with how your husband treats you? I mean, he yells at you, puts you down and makes you feel like shit."

"He doesn't do it as much anymore."

"Well, that makes it all better, doesn't it?" He took her other hand and lightly held them both. "Angel, did you not tell me recently your daughter threatened to tell her daddy on you because you wouldn't let her get her way? And didn't you say she said he'd yell at you?"