My hand finds my cock and I squeeze, trying to quiet the images in my brain. It’s no use. The way her round ass filled out those jeans, the hint of cleavage that peeked from her tank top, it’s been burned into my brain. Knowing I’m going to give in to temptation, I grab the bottle of body wash, squeeze a generous amount into my palm, and use the suds to stroke my cock up and down. A grunt pushes past my lips as my hand speeds up. My shaft feels like steel and my balls draw up closer to my body.

The images in my brain turn far more salacious . . . Emery naked and kneeling between my feet, her pink lips sucking on the head of my cock, her bent over my bed with her ass up nice and high so I can see her glistening pussy, me pounding into her, showing her what it’s like to be fucked by a man who knows what he’s doing.

As I pump my fist over the sensitive head of my cock, a strangled moan crawls up my throat and I come hard, sending semen jetting onto the tile below. As the water washes away the evidence of my lack of self-control, I take a deep gulp of air. Jacking off to thoughts of my friend isn’t normal. I need to lock this shit down. Right the fuck now. But as I towel off, I decide that if this is what I need to do to remain in control around her, so be it.

After my release, I feel a bit more disciplined, my head clearer, and I’m thankful for that. I put on a pair of sweatpants, and then head to the kitchen to grab my phone.

Sitting down on the edge of my bed, I send a text to Emery, inviting her to join me at my nephew’s soccer game tomorrow. I figure there’s no way I can bend her succulent ass over and fuck her in front of twenty four-year-olds. It’s safe, and I need to stick to safe activities. Ones where my cock won’t get me into trouble.

Because this friends-only thing? It fucking sucks.

Chapter Ten

Emery

I pull into one of the few spots left in the city park’s lot. Today has turned out lovely—all sapphire sky, golden sun, and best of all, a low-smog alert—and it seems like all of Los Angeles has come out to enjoy it.

Walking to the soccer field, I look around until I see Hayden waving from the bleachers. There’s a cute couple with him that must be his sister and her husband. What are their names again? I try to remember. Hayden mentioned them in his text. Beth and . . . Daniel? No, David.

Beth is sitting on the bottom row of steps with a princess no older than three conked out on her lap. It’s amazing what little kids can sleep through; despite all the children shrieking and adults laughing around her, this girl is out cold. I can see the family resemblance to both her mother and to Hayden—the same dark hair, the same high forehead, the same straight nose.

A slightly older boy clings to David, his free hand gripping a box of apple juice. His messy nut-brown hair makes him look more like his father. He looks up at me with huge blue-gray eyes. When I smile and wave back at him, he grins and hides his face in his father’s pant leg.

David chuckles and pats his son on the head. “He likes you.”

“Careful, Hayden,” Beth says with a smirk. “You’ve got competition.” She reaches out and takes my hand, giving it a warm shake.

Hayden’s eyes swing over to mine, and a warm shiver runs along my body. “You came.”

I nod. “Of course I did. It’s beautiful out today.”

He and Beth both look up at the sky, trying to figure out what I mean. It’s LA—every day is pretty much the same. I guess this Midwest girl isn’t used to that yet.

Noticing that his nephew is still hiding his face in David’s leg, Hayden squats down to the boy’s level. “Hey there, Austin. How’s my buddy? I invited my friend Emery to watch you play today.” The boy grunts and buries his face even more. “You want a high-five?” Hayden says, holding up his hand.

Giggling, Austin bats at it with his juice box, squirting sticky sugar water all over his uncle’s hand.

Hayden’s air of cheerful calm doesn’t diminish. “You excited to play today?”

Austin finally speaks up. “Yeah. I’m gonna soccer.”

“He cried on the way here,” Beth interjects. “He wanted to wear his dinosaur shirt, but we put him in his league uniform, so . . . you can guess.”

A stout man in a baseball cap walks onto the turf and blows his whistle. The chaos of parents and kids all around us spikes to a crescendo.

“Looks like it’s time to get on the field.” David bends down to take Austin’s hand. “Ready to go see your friends?”

“No,” Austin says.

“Come on, little dude. Don’t you want to—”

Austin screams so loudly and so suddenly that I jump. His sister squirms in Beth’s arms, still half-asleep.

David sighs. “Hayden, can you take him somewhere quiet? I have to get his bag from the car.”

“No problem.” Hayden scoops up the flailing Austin and walks off toward a nearby stand of trees.

When both men have left, Beth turns to me. “Sorry about that,” she says, stroking her daughter’s raven hair to soothe her. “I think he’s just overstimulated. He loves soccer, but sometimes all the people and noise and activity . . .” She makes a bzzt noise. “Blows a fuse.”

I shake my head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Life is tough when you’re a kid.”

“Heh . . . tell me about it. Hayden’s great with him, though. Which is a huge help. David and I didn’t get much sleep last night. Georgia kept waking up all night with some weird dream. Too much candy before bed.” Beth dips her head to indicate her daughter, who is already comatose on her lap again. Then she hesitates. “When Hayden mentioned he’d be bringing a girl . . . I gotta say, I didn’t expect you.”

Now she has my attention. Any chance I can get to dig up some dirt on Hayden, I’m game. Especially because I want a point of reference that isn’t Roxy’s. I sit down next to Beth on the bleachers. “What do you mean?”

“Hayden doesn’t usually hang around . . . you know. The kind of women you bring to meet your family.”

Two uncomfortable ideas hit me at once. One of them is: Meeting his family? Is that what this is all about? Am I being evaluated? And the other: Was Roxy right after all? Hayden doesn’t date girls long enough to introduce them to anyone. He doesn’t bother with “nice girls” at all; he aims for the women he can pump and dump. So how long is he going to bother with me, in my frumpy T-shirt and worn tennis shoes and a streak of white sunscreen on my nose?

Beth’s casual comment has unleashed fears I didn’t even know I had. I make a mental note to mend fences with Roxy; she was only trying to look out for me after all.

I’m suddenly aware that I’ve been silent for too long. I lick my dry lips nervously, trying to figure out how to respond to Beth. “Well,” I finally say, “I mean, we’re just friends. I’m not . . .” Not interested, I swear. “I don’t need to be his type.”

“Oh,” Beth says, drawing out the sound into a long note of realization. “I’m sorry. I just assumed you were his date.”

Do I want to be his date? Am I that lonely and horny? What am I even doing here?

Beth interrupts my torrent of thoughts by pointing at the field. “Looks like things are under control now.”

There are almost two dozen little kids scattered over the turf, dressed in either red or blue. Evidently toddler soccer is more popular around here than I would have guessed. I note with relief that Austin is among them.

David and Hayden come back to the bleachers and we settle in to watch the game. But as much as I try to concentrate, I’m too aware of Hayden’s warm, solid body pressed up against my shoulder and thigh. And Beth’s comments about him never bringing nice normal girls around buzz through my head.

• • •