BooksBarbecue
Back When We Were Friends
Chapters (52)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. About the Author
  5. 31
  6. 14
  7. 31
  8. 14
  9. 31
  10. 14
  11. 31
  12. 14
  13. 31
  14. 15
  15. 31
  16. 16
  17. 32
  18. 16
  19. 32
  20. 17
  21. 32
  22. 17
  23. 32
  24. 17
  25. 32
  26. 17
  27. 32
  28. 18
  29. 32
  30. 18
  31. 32
  32. 18
  33. 32
  34. 18
  35. 32
  36. 18
  37. 32
  38. 18
  39. 32
  40. 18
  41. 32
  42. 18
  43. 32
  44. 18
  45. 32
  46. 32
  47. 33
  48. 33
  49. 33
  50. Acknowledgments
  51. Discussion Questions
  52. Booklist

“Just meeting an old friend from school near Covent Garden. I told you.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me the dress code was Bond Girl. Seriously, Fern, you look sensational.” He came up behind me, and I was enveloped in his scent. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I smiled at myself in the mirror as I watched him kiss my neck. “I like this,” he murmured, his fingers skimming the velvet.

“Is it all right?”

“God, you look so sexy.” His voice was gruff, deepened, and he pawed at me with an urgency and fierceness I hadn’t felt in ages. It was the Ben I knew from the start. Those frantic first six months, where we couldn’t go anywhere, or accomplish anything, without having sex first. It had been over a year since he’d used that voice. Since we’d moved in, we’d gone from jokes about “christening each room,” high on the excitement of being able to shag in the kitchen without traumatizing our various housemates, to getting so comfortable with the fact we could have sex whenever we wanted, that we had it increasingly infrequently.

Ben tried to kiss my lips, but I ducked away. “I’ve got lipstick on.”

His grin went up to his eyebrows. “Well, just because you can’t kiss me, doesn’t mean I can’t kiss you.” He rained kisses down my neck, my collarbones, before turning me to face him, and getting onto his knees, kissing the velvet of my stomach, smirking as he looked up at me.

“What are you doing?”

He’d tugged my dress slit open, and kissed my freshly-shaved legs, up my thighs then through my knickers. “Ben...” I closed my eyes, losing myself in the sensation, in the thrill of the novelty. I hadn’t felt this wanted in ages. I stepped out of my heels so I didn’t fall over, and Ben, his head buried under the folds of my dress, pulled my underwear to one side, pushing me into the wall with both hands. He cupped my arse while I groaned, and reached out to smack it hard, shocking me slightly. Then, he was unburrowing himself from my dress, and unbuckling his belt. He went to kiss me again, the smell of me all over his breath.

“My lipstick, remember?”