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CHAPTER FOUR

T hree years earlier…

While we’re both in our early twenties, I can’t help but admit that I love the TikTok trend of kissing your best friend. I have watched the videos endlessly, giggling and getting all gooey inside when the guy is shocked at first when his best friend’s lips meet his. But then he regains his wits before going back for the real kiss, devouring the girl he has lusted after too. The jealousy is real as I watch, wishing I had the guts to do it. To make a move.

Because I have been in love with my best friend since we were eight.

I know what you’re thinking. Audrina, there is no way. An eight-year-old can’t fall in love, but I did. Head over heels in uncontrollable love for Thatcher Orlov. The story, it’s a cutesy one, so brace yourself. We were on vacation at Disney. My parents and his wanted to take us on a trip before Maeve got too big with the new baby that was coming. They hadn’t planned on having another baby, but we were all excited for the surprise. Our moms had chosen matching shirts for us to wear, and we had different mouse ears for each day. We had ridden all the rides, and everything was grand, but for some reason, I got scared of the Haunted Mansion.

Crazy, right? Not even babies get scared. I didn’t voice my concerns, but somehow Thatcher knew. He grabbed my hand and leaned in, his lips right by my ear. “It’s all fake. Kinda funny, don’t you think?”

I met his eyes, the lights playing off his face and leaving me unable to form words. Everything disappeared—the fear in my soul, the spooky noises, and nothing mattered but his dark gaze that settled on mine. He squeezed my hand, urging me to agree, and I did. I nodded, my throat working as he gave me a wide grin. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, pressing his body to mine, and I leaned right into him.

Like I was made to be pressed to his body.

Like two magnets.

When we got off the ride, he used the rest of his Disney gift card to buy me a Mickey ice cream bar. And on every ride after, he held my hand. It reminded me of my mom and dad. How my dad never let my mom walk without their fingers threaded together. Even at a young age, I knew I wanted a man who loved me the way my dad loved my mom. For me, Thatcher was just that.

So, I’m sure you’re wondering why I think I have to use a TikTok challenge to kiss my best friend. At this point, it is written in the stars that we are meant to be together, but he’s never treated me as anything other than a sister. He’s never looked at me with a hungry gaze. He’s never made a move or flirted in a way that’s made me think he wants me to be more than a best friend.

When people assume we’re together, he’s the first to correct them. When I think he’s looking at me with lust in his eyes, I convince myself it’s all in my head because he’s never made a move. We cuddle and even sleep in the same bed, and neither of us has ever made a move.

I don’t know if it’s the fear of the unknown or if he truly doesn’t see me as more than a friend, but I can’t live in limbo anymore. After I slept with his teammate, Dart, a huge, drunken mistake, he lost his damn mind. I mean, he yelled, he ripped me apart verbally, and he didn’t talk to me for a month. Only texted me for things we both needed and when it was time to pay bills. He was pissed, and I didn’t understand why. Sure, I slept with a teammate, but who cared?

I’m not his. But then…what if I am?

I want to be.

When I asked why it bothered him so badly, he just said it did and not to do it again. I almost fought him on it, but I didn’t want to hurt him again. Sleeping with Dart had done that.

I had created a whole narrative in my head of him being hopelessly in love with me like I am with him. It’s come time to find out if I’m right.

Like it says in the song “Electric Love” by B?RNS, I feel like lightning trapped in a bottle when I’m around him. My whole body is tingling, my heart thundering in my chest, and my hands shake as I hold my phone up in front of us. I lean it against one of his full beer bottles—since he grabs two at a time, so he doesn’t have to stop playing. We’re sitting on the couch. He’s playing his game while I watch and suggest where he can hide, while I crochet. It’s our lazy Sunday that’s about to catch on fire in seconds if the story I’ve made up in my head is true.

I tap his hard thigh. He’s wearing short shorts since his leg is in a brace, and he hates how hot he gets when he wears pants. He broke his kneecap and is out for the rest of the season. He’s been quite a dick about it, which could play into why he was so mad about Dart and me. Hmm… Maybe I shouldn’t do this?

Before I can lose my lady balls, I say, “Hey, look at the camera. I want to send our moms a video.”

He knocks off his headset. “Of me with a busted knee and you crocheting another blanket?”

I send him a wide grin. “Yes, exactly.”

He rolls his eyes but leans in when I hit play. “Electric Love” fills the space between us, and I watch as his brows draw in. I mouth the words, being goofy, but beside me, he’s watching the screen intently. It’s almost like he knows what I am doing, but he doesn’t have TikTok. He doesn’t know this trend; he can’t. I turn before the crescendo of the song kicks off, the moment when you’re supposed to kiss your best friend. He turns too, his heated gaze meeting mine. Flecks of green swirl around his blown-out pupils, leaving me breathless.

I’m unsure who kisses whom first.

One second, I’m lost in his eyes, and then I watch as he reaches up to turn his cap backward.

Holy hot fuck.

But I can’t even fully process his sexy man motion before his lips are on mine. He cups my jaw as he holds me where he wants me and devours my lips. I have kissed many boys in my twenty-five years, but nothing could have prepared me for Thatcher’s lips. They’re soft but demanding, leading the butterflies in my belly to soar to full flight. He cups my neck with his other hand as his tongue slides along my lips, and I open greedily for him. His taste is one I wasn’t prepared for. It’s not only beer but mint and him. Thatcher. I moan into his mouth, and his grip tightens at my neck and jaw. The song has ended, but I refuse to do anything but kiss the man I have wanted my whole damn life.

Again, I know that’s a silly thought. But I’m pretty sure when they put us in our cribs in the nursery when we were born, they put us beside each other because we each needed the other. I have a very active imagination, if you can’t tell.

I slide my hands up his neck, threading my fingers into his hair at the back of his neck before knocking his cap off. It tumbles beside us, but it doesn’t break our kiss. No, I don’t think anything can. He lets go of my neck to snake his arm around my waist before pulling me into his lap. I straddle him, our lips still not parting as my center comes to settle against the very hard length of his cock.

Well, damn.

I let out a little mewl of a noise before I move myself over every inch of him. He hisses against my lips, breaking our kiss as our eyes meet in an inferno of desire. I should say something, he should, but neither of us utters a word. Instead, I feel my heart race as he stops the video I was recording on my phone then reaches for my shirt, pulling it off with ease. He tosses it to the side, pulling down the cup of my bra and covering my sensitive nipple with his hot mouth. I let my head fall back as I moan loudly, his fingers digging into my ass as he grinds himself against my center. It all feels so out of this world, and nothing like what I imagined being with Thatcher would be like.

It’s more.

So much more.

I cry out when he takes the waistband of my sleep shorts and tears them without a second thought. My panties are next as I let out another meep, and then he throws the remnants of my shorts and panties to the floor.

Again, holy hot fuck.

He slaps my ass, the sting making me hiss before his heated eyes meet mine. “Stand up,” he demands. And listen, this dude could tell me to do a handstand as I suck his cock, and I would.

I use his shoulders to brace myself as I stand, my breathing a mess as my feet hit the floor. He smacks my ass again. “Come closer.” I do as he says, while he positions his knees between my legs before he leans forward and runs his nose down the little strip of hair leading to my pussy. He groans loudly, his body vibrating as he presses a kiss to my mound. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to eat this pussy?”

He looks up at me as his fingers bite into my ass. His eyes are so dark, more black than their usual chocolate brown. Words elude me, and I can only shake my head. A wolfish grin moves across his lips before he squeezes my ass once more. “So long, I might bust a nut when I finally taste you.” I whimper as he runs his nose along my pussy before he meets my gaze once more. “But that’s not going to stop me from getting my fill.”

That’s the last thing he says before he runs his tongue up my slit, swirling the tip around my clit as I cry out, arching into his mouth. He moans deeply in his chest before he starts to French kiss my pussy with a need I didn’t know he felt. I suspected, but no amount of creativity prepared me for his mouth. He moves from my clit to my entrance, sucking, licking, playing until I’m an utter mess, screaming his name as if it’s what I’m paid to do. When he pushes two thick fingers into my entrance, I cry out as my body explodes. I feel as if I’m flying, his mouth still sucking my clit as he fucks me ruthlessly with his big fingers. I jerk against his mouth, and he chuckles lightly against my heated flesh.

“Look at you, coming all over my fingers. But dushen’ka , you’re about to take this cock, and that’s a sight I need more than my next breath.”

My legs are shaking, and when he pulls his fingers out of me, I instantly fall onto his good knee, thankful it’s able to catch me and keep me from hitting the floor. He takes me by the back of my neck, dragging me to straddle his hips before he captures my mouth in a lusty kiss that has my body revving up for more. He trails his mouth along my jaw, and I’m gasping for breath.

“Thatcher,” I moan as he sucks along my collarbone and down to my chest.

“I got you, dushen’ka . I promise,” he says against my skin as he pulls his shirt off, throwing it to the side. He’s all muscles and thick black ink. A sheen of sweat covers the butterfly at the base of his throat that he got because I was too scared to get a tattoo at the time. He has snakes, skulls, and random words along his chest, but I know these tattoos, and I was there when he got each one. Even so, processing the beauty of them is beyond me at this moment.

And if I can’t process tattoos I know, there is no way I can even process the fact that he called me dushen’ka.

Dushen’ka.

My soul.

Seriously?

I’m too lost in my lust to even speak sentences. I just want him. I want him deep inside me. I want him ruining me for every other man on this planet, and it’d be fine because he’ll be the only man I’ll ever want for the rest of my existence.

“Please,” I whimper, and his eyes dance for me, such heat and hunger in his gaze. He’s looking at me in a way I’ve craved, and I can’t get enough. He lifts his hips, and I rise up on my knees. He pushes his shorts down, and his cock springs up between us. I don’t know how I’ve gone so long not catching him naked, but I’m glad I didn’t. If I had, I would have made a fool of myself. I would have dropped to my knees and begged him to fuck my mouth. His cock is perfect. Thick, long, veiny, with a huge mushroom head that I know is going to stab me in the lungs.

I’m here for it.

I whine a bit as he squeezes it hard, and when I meet his gaze, he grins. “See something you like?”

“Fuck me, Thatcher.”

Wow. I form a sentence, and that’s it?

I’m a winner.

But then, with how hotly his gaze burns into me, maybe I am. He wraps an arm around me, lifting me with ease before impaling me with his thick cock. He doesn’t go slow, he doesn’t inch his way in, he fills me to the hilt in one go, and my eyes roll to the back of my head as I scream his name. I’m not the only one affected either. Thatcher’s deep moan vibrates through me as his hands squeeze my hips and ass.

“Fucking tight cunt. Fuck yes, dushen’ka. Ride me, ruin me… Fuck, I can’t believe I’ve waited this long for this.”

I can’t even tell you what day or time it is, but somehow I move up and down his thick cock. He hits me deep inside, the bulbous mushroom head rubbing my G-spot in the most perfect way. My tits bounce with each thrust of his cock, my moans loud and dirty, and his match mine. I’m going to have bruises everywhere, but I don’t give two shits. He rakes his teeth along my nipple, biting softly before doing the same to the other one. I cry out, riding him hard as I chase my release. It only takes him pressing his thumb to my clit to send me through the roof. I come loudly, squeezing his thick cock as I scream his name and shake violently in his arms.

One arm constricts around me as his other hand comes up to squeeze my jaw. “Look at me, dushen’ka. Now,” he demands, and I do as he asks. My eyes are blurry with unshed tears as everything trembles. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he murmurs against my lips. “I want to lick every one of these freckles.”

“Please, Thatch. Please.”

“I got all night, don’t I?”

Or forever. However, I can’t say that. Even if I want to. If this is a one-night thing, I’ll take it. I’ll take whatever as long as I get him. As long as I have the memory of his mouth, fingers, and cock deep inside me. “Yes. As long as you want.”

“Oh, you’re offering more?” he asks against my lips, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder. “You want more?”

“All,” I admit, my voice hoarse, unrecognizable.

“That’s fucking right,” he mutters before he slams up hard into me. “I’m going to fill you up with my come, brand you. You’re mine now, you know that.”

“Yes,” I cry, squeezing my arms around his neck as he pounds up into me. I worry for all of two seconds about his knee, but then he’s playing with my clit again and I’m a goner. I come just as he thrusts so deeply inside me, it takes my breath away. I feel him fill me, his hot come making me want to come all over again. He roars my name before he buries his face in my neck. I close my eyes, leaning my head against his as we both gasp for breath. Our bodies are slick with sweat, but all I can feel is his heart slamming against mine.

He kisses up my neck, along my jaw, before capturing my mouth once more with his. I lean into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck as he twitches inside me. When we part because neither of us can breathe, I press my forehead against his. Our eyes meet, and neither of us says a thing. We only stare, the realization of what we just did dawning on us. I swallow hard, worried he’s about to ruin it. But then he grins. Unable to keep my own in, I grin back, my stomach flipping at the pure beauty of his face.

“So, that just happened,” I tease, and his eyes darken.

“It did,” he says, tucking the pieces of my hair that have fallen behind my ear. “And it’s going to keep happening.”

My lips curve up higher. “Don’t you think we should discuss this?”

He shakes his head, gripping my butt in his hand. “Tomorrow,” he tells me. “Tonight, I will get to know your body just as well as I know your mind.”

Breathless, I trace his bottom lip. “Really?”

“Really,” he promises.

And he kept one promise.

The discussion of what we did never came about.

A week later, I was gone.