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CHAPTER 7

SCARLETT

ONE MONTH LATER

Bestie

Happy two-month best friendaversary!

Oh, this is a thing now?

Why wouldn’t it be? We’re best friends.

Wish you were here for breakfast.

You could have me for breakfast.

I quickly unsend the message.

I saw that, Red.

No, you didn’t.

Did you think of me while you fucked yourself this morning?

Let’s just say my toys are used to me calling out your name.

I unsend the last message as well.

Was it the blue one or the orange one?

I’m not telling you. Have a good morning, bestie!

Fuck, I’m hard thinking about it.

Have a great first day!

Thanks, I will! Keep an eye on Berkeley today.

Why?

Just trust me.

And it was blue.

It’s harmless flirting; there’s no chance he’s hard thinking about me. The idea of him in bed—hand tight around his cock—sends a pulse of heat straight between my thighs. Would he slowly stroke with a tight grip, toying with each piercing as he moves up and down his shaft? Or would he quickly tug until he comes on his chest? I shouldn’t be fantasizing about my friend—especially not about his pierced cock I’ve never even seen—but the conjured image lingers the rest of the morning.

After a few hours of familiarizing myself with the roster and patient files, I’m waiting in line for lunch at my favourite sandwich shop, tempted to text Russ. I haven’t heard from him since this morning. Normally, I’d have several missed texts from him by now. Did I overstep with my flirting? He started it… or at least I think he did. I check our text exchange and reread the messages. I hesitate on the last one, tempted to delete it. With my thumb hovering over the message, ready to erase it from existence, there’s a new one below it.

Bestie

How’s your first day going?

It’s a jump scare, and I suck in a breath.

Good.

Thanks for the heads up about Beav. He won’t shut up about tomorrow night’s game.

As I’m typing a reply, he calls me, and I can’t help my smile seeing his name dance across my screen. “Hey, bestie.”

“Hey, Red,” he purrs, making my belly flip.

“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until later.”

“I just finished up a quick pre-game workout but wanted to see how your day was going.”

I bite my lip and deflect. “You’re going to be amazing tonight.”

“Oh, I know. I’m more worried about tomorrow.” Russ huffs a small laugh and explains, “Beav insists on having Rachel sit with the WAGs. He’ll be so distracted keeping an eye on her, he won’t even care about beating Québec.”

“You’re not beating us,” I taunt.

“If we win, what do I get?”

My instinct is to tell him ‘me,’ but quickly squash the temptation to reply with a flirtatious response. “What do you want?”

“Stay with me,” he pleads, making my heart ache. We’re just friends who flirt, but every fiber of my being knows it would be more if we lived closer.

I chew on my thumbnail. “That’s not a good idea. Maybe dinner or coffee?”

“If Vancouver wins, you stay in my bed. That’s the deal. I won’t touch you, I just…” He blows out a long breath.

“Okay,” I concede. “You have a deal. I have to get back to work, but good luck tonight.”

“I’ll text you after the game. It’ll be late there, but if you’re up, I want to know how the rest of your first day went.”

This. Man.

“I’ll stay up. Bye, bestie,” I sing.

“Bye, Red.”

We hang up, and there’s a new text from him.

Use the orange one and tell me all about it tonight.

Orange one?

My breath catches. I never should’ve told him about my toy collection last week. Stupid tequila…

The rest of my day is spent meeting with the medical staff and management. Once I’m home, I order dinner and pull out college binders, wanting to brush up on goalie injuries—Jones has been suffering from knee issues, and I want to keep an eye on it.

Two glasses of wine, yellow curry with rice, and several hours of research later, I fall asleep on the couch. I wake to my phone vibrating on the coffee table. I snatch it up, hopeful it’s Russ. I breathe a sigh of relief the moment I see Russ’ name on the screen and can’t answer fast enough. “Hey, Red,” he greets before I can say hello.

“Hey, how was the game?”

“You mean you didn’t watch?” he teases, and I can’t help but chuckle. “We won—because of course we did. Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“Sort of,” I groan as I set my binder on the coffee table. I check the time; it’s a few minutes after midnight. “Are you home?”

“I am, and still riding the high from the game. So, tell me, how was today?”

“I can’t say much—don’t want to give you an edge for tomorrow, you know.”

All of my fun, flirty Russ is gone when he asks, “Why would you say that?”

“I’m so sorry,” I rush out. “I didn’t mean anything by it! I know you wouldn’t use anything to your advantage. I’m just protective of my patients and, well, if you win tomorrow, I’m…”

“You’re what?”

“I’m afraid if I stay with you tomorrow, things might change between us,” I admit, shutting my eyes tight. My soul calls to him in an indescribable way. It hurts to imagine a world where we aren’t at the very least friends. If I stay, if we cross that line, I don’t know if I could handle a version of reality where I lose him completely. The only place I can think clearly is the shower, so without much thought, I pad off to my bathroom, turning the knob to scalding. Just how I like it.

His voice is gentle but sure. “I’ll love you in any capacity you need, but the fact remains, I love you, Scarlett. You want to be friends? I’m in, but I… Are you doing dishes? It’s the middle of the night.”

“No, I’m going to take a shower.” His words finally register, and I screech, “Russ! You did not just tell me you love me.” I swallow thickly; he hasn’t called me Scarlett since the night we met. Even then, I can’t recall if he ever said it. He loves me? Surely he can’t mean it.

“Sync the call to your shower Bluetooth speaker,” he commands, and I regret telling him how I belt out nineties pop while I’m getting ready for work.

“We should just hang up,” I offer, even if it’s the last thing I want to do.

“I won’t be able to hear you. Do you trust me?”

I reply honestly, my voice breathless, “Yes.”

“Sync it.” I do, and since he can no longer hear me, I text him to confirm. His dark chuckle rumbles through the speaker. “You’re overthinking this, Red. Step in, wet your hair, then grab your shampoo.” I do as he says. “Lather it a little longer than usual—massage it into your scalp. If I was there, I’d comb my fingers through your hair to make sure every strand was covered, so you need to do the same.” I close my eyes, imagining it’s his hands instead of mine. “Just like that. Take a few deep breaths. Good. Now, rinse it until all of the suds are gone.” He gives me a minute to work the shampoo out of my hair. “When you’re done, add your conditioner and let it sit.”

I pull my conditioner from the shelf, spotting my vibrator next to it. The temptation to use it is almost too much. Instead, I add conditioner to the bottom half of my hair and wait for his next instruction.

“Touch your neck as if you’re taking your pulse. It’s where I’d kiss you and you’d melt into me, just as you did the night we spent together.”

My breath picks up, but I continue to do as he asks. My heartbeat is erratic against my fingertips.

“Take your loofah or washcloth, add your favourite bodywash, then slowly drag it up your left arm and down your right. I know you want to wash your perfect tits, but I’d take my time, making you ache for it. Don’t think, just feel the extra hot water beating down on you.” I continue to work as he talks me through it. “I’d wash both of your legs, pressing a soft kiss to your belly. We both love me on my knees for you, don’t we? The anticipation would be too much. You’d stop worrying about any possible consequences of letting me take care of you, and slide your hands into my hair, hooking your leg onto my shoulder. I’d nip at the inside of your thigh, but draw your lightly soapy skin into my mouth to claim it as mine. A soft moan escapes you, needing me to touch you. But you’re not in charge, Red. Your sweet cunt will have my mouth soon enough.”

I glance to my vibrator. He’d never know…

“Don’t even think about it,” he growls. “If you want to come, you have to earn it. Your vibrator stays right where it is.”

I suck in a breath. Can he see me?

“Massage the soap between your fingers. Now, wash down your chest, sliding your slick hands over your full breasts. Your nipples are hard the moment your fingers skate over them, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” I breathe, even if he can’t hear me.

“Pinch one, imagining it’s my teeth. Savour the sting, then do the same to the other. Fuck, you’re doing so well, Red.”

I whimper at his praise, wishing more than anything I could have his mouth on me.

“I know you want to touch yourself. You’re being such a good girl waiting for me. Don’t you dare slide your hand between your legs until I tell you. Wash the rest of your chest, then move lower.” I can’t take it anymore and drop the loofah to grab my vibrator, slathering it in lube. His voice startles me. “ Red , what did I say about touching yourself?”

There’s no way he actually knows what I’m doing, and the ache is too much. I switch it on and tease my clit, crying out at the contact.

“You need me to make you feel good, don’t you? Let me,” Russ purrs. “Slide your vibrator up and down your wet pussy, but don’t push in. Half of the fun is the build up, baby. I’m stroking my cock to the thought of how amazing it’ll feel to tease your clit with my piercing.”

I pause. Piercing? As in one? I thought for sure he was getting a ladder. I circle the vibrator around my clit and I’m so damn wet knowing he’s fisting himself to the thought of me.

“I want you begging for it. Dip the vibrator into your tight cunt, but only an inch and pull out. Just like that. Fuck, you listen so well, baby. Do it again, but take another inch and hold. You’re so fucking perfect, letting me stretch you out like this.” I increase the intensity and can’t help the feral moan that escapes me. “Drag it out slowly, then press it against your clit. Hard.” My cries echo in the shower as he continues, “You’re so wet and ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Only for you,” I whimper.

“Press it back inside you, imagining it’s me, one inch at a time, until I’m fully seated inside you. You feel that, baby? My cock is fucking swelling being this deep.”

Bracing myself on the shower wall, my imagination runs wild—his hands holding me steady, his thick cock deep inside me, his teeth sinking into my shoulder. I slowly pump my vibrator in and out of me, relishing each punishing thrust.

“I’m yours, Red. Use my cock to make yourself come.”

I’m so close, desperate to come on his command.

“That’s it, beautiful. Keep going until you make a mess.”

There’s an unmistakable sound through the speaker of him fucking his hand, the delicious sound spurring me on. I’d give anything to touch him, to feel his hard cock piercing me over and over. Even if my team loses tomorrow, I’m staying the night with him—if only to quench my thirst for whatever this is brewing between us. Though I don’t know I’ll ever be satiated.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close. Where do you want me to come? Deep inside you? Pull out and paint your back? A little of both? Your choice, Red. The moment you come, shut off the shower and turn off the Bluetooth.”

I don’t wait. Turning off the shower and have never been so grateful for a waterproof phone. I click the icon to switch from my shower speaker so he can hear me. “Come with me, Russ.”

“I’m right there. I’m waiting for you.”

“I’m… oh … me too.”

“Let go, baby.”

I thrust the vibrator inside me one final time as I shatter, not caring that my mewling is far from sexy. My pussy flutters around the vibe, and I turn down the intensity, struggling to catch my breath. I blink a few times, my vision is spotty, and my entire body is both on fire and shivering. Russ grits out a few swears, and I can’t help my smile. We may have ruined our friendship tonight, but in this moment, I couldn’t care less.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes out with a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve come that hard in a long time.”

I can’t help but chuckle, savouring my afterglow. “Same.”

“I know you can take another.”

“I have to be up early tomorrow,” I sigh. I’ll likely touch myself in bed, but he certainly doesn’t need to know that. “Are… are we going to talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about? You know where I stand. I’m yours, Red. However you want me.”

My heart swells and shatters at his admission, and I can’t bring myself to admit the truth—I want more than what we have, but I’m too scared of getting hurt. There are too many variables. What we have is easy—or at least, it was until tonight. “Call me tomorrow?”

“Of course. Sleep well, beautiful.”

I’m grateful for the smile in his voice. We hang up, and I finally say the words he deserves to hear, even if it’s only to my empty bathroom— I love you.