Lust and Other Drugs

Lust and Other Drugs

Saranna DeWylde

For months, Anne’s been indulging
in a porn site that caters to women. She’s even got a favorite model, a hottie
who gets her juices flowing every time. Until she finally sees his face—and
discovers she’s been jilling off to videos of her lifelong best friend, Chase.

Now Anne can’t even look at him
without imagining his big, hard…
everything
. Worse, she’s just become
Chase’s new roommate. How can she possibly keep her hands off all that grade-A
beefcake when it’s within arm’s reach? Does she even have to? A
friends-with-benefits arrangement is looking more appealing by the second…

Starting with the world’s dirtiest
dance, Anne and Chase’s physical relationship builds to the point of
combustion. However, no-strings is harder than Anne ever imagined. Her lust for
Chase is like a drug…but she’ll soon realize other, more complicated emotions
are far more potent.

Chapter One

Sweet heaven on fire, but the man carrying the boxes out of
Anne Hayward’s apartment was nothing short of an eyegasm.

He was tall and broad, his presence filling the doorway. The
cannons he had for biceps caused him to turn sideways to get through the
passage, laden as he was with her household goods. The hundred-degree heat
didn’t help—sweat slicked his skin and caused the white t-shirt to plaster
itself like a desperate lover to the hard planes of muscle. A pair of
distressed, low-slung jeans hung on his hips and it drew her gaze down farther,
to the Pantera belt buckle she’d gotten him for Christmas. It mocked her, a
gatekeeper of the forbidden.

The sin-on-a-stick treat currently moving all of her stuff
to storage was none other than Chase Donovan, the boy who’d been her best
friend since fourth grade at Green Valley Elementary.

Her mouth went dry when he tugged his shirt off and tucked
it into his belt. “Boy” was absolutely the wrong word. He was all man.
One-hundred-percent, grade-A beefcake, to be exact.

Anne couldn’t help but lick her lips and imagine for the
millionth time what it would feel like to have her hands splayed on his back
while he thrust into her, those green eyes dark with lust and her legs wrapped
around his waist and—

“Annie? You all right?” he asked. “You look a little pale.
Sit down. I’ve got the rest of this.” The corner of his mouth curved in a half
grin.

She didn’t respond…which was just as well. Anne wouldn’t
have been able to say anything coherent. She’d promised herself she’d come
clean about this new
awareness
of him, for lack of a better word, before
she set up camp in his guest bedroom. The days had gotten away from her and she
was still no closer to coming up with a way to broach the subject than she’d
been when she’d first found out. Anne didn’t know where to start.

One usually began at the beginning, and she supposed that
was six months ago. At least, that’s when her world as she’d known it had
changed. She’d stumbled across a porn site that catered exclusively to women.
Hot stories read aloud by sexy men, videos of these same sexy men doing the
most delicious things… Even chat. It was a full-service sort of experience.
Although she never chatted there, it had become her go-to site when she wanted
to get off.

It took months to actually see the face of the model she
liked. It was always a quick peek or a bare shadow. Until a month ago…when
she’d finally seen the familiar square jaw, the aquiline nose and the green
eyes she knew better than her own.

It had taken her world view and tipped it on its ass
sideways to discover she’d been jilling off to Chase.

Those images were burned in her brain like a brand. They
were always there now, visions of his hands on his heavy cock, the way his body
moved as he found his release—even the way the women looked as he made them
come. She couldn’t look at him now and
not
see these things. Her gaze
was constantly drawn to his hands, his body. Anne was wet just thinking about
it. Especially his hands. Those broad, strong palms, the wide fingers that,
even for all of their size, were elegant somehow. She liked to watch them.
Whether he was carrying boxes or bringing himself off, she was entranced.

She’d never seen him that way before—as a man. He’d always
been Chase, her best friend. Anne had stopped using the site, but her fantasies
had changed nonetheless. He was always in the front of her mind, waiting to
offer some forbidden inspiration. She would remember some innocent
circumstance, like a water balloon fight they’d had in high school, and instead
of ending up laughing together on the grass, there was suddenly tension between
them and his hands would be on her body, kneading her breasts, delving between
her thighs and—

“That’s the last of it, unless you’ve hidden more boxes
somewhere,” Chase said as he came back through the door.

Anne looked around the room and pretended to search for
those hidden places where more boxes could be to avoid looking at him. Finally,
she had nowhere else to stare. A lock of dark hair had fallen across his brow
and she realized he could be the next model for a Dolce & Gabbana cologne.
“No, I don’t have anything else.”

Could he see the lust in her eyes? Did he notice the way she
licked her lips whenever she looked at him?

“Are you sure you don’t want the couch?” He motioned to the
overstuffed thing behind her.

“No, it was here when I got here. Where would I put it,
anyway?”

“The living room?” He shrugged. “I want you to feel at home,
Annie. You’re not a guest.”

“No, I’m the maid, until I can start paying you some rent.”
She laughed. Instantly she imagined dressing up in a French maid outfit and
“working off” her rent. Anne bit her bottom lip. She did that all the time
around him too, constantly bit her lip when she thought of him and all the
things they could do together.

“Hey, you want to cook and clean, I’m not going to
complain.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “But you’re family.
Mi
casa, es su casa
.”

Family? That should have warmed her heart, but it was as bad
as the dreaded Friend Zone.
You’re nothing more than a sister
.
Perhaps she should have found comfort in that. If he only saw her as a friend,
a sister, there was no way he’d let her screw up their friendship living out
some fantasy that was probably one of those things better left to imagination.
Fantasy was easy, reality was messy.

“Thanks, Chase.” Out of habit, Anne leaned in for a hug that
had always been a comfortable gesture between them. Only it wasn’t. He wrapped
his arms around her and, rather than reeking like a man who’d been working
should have, he smelled cologne and soap. She breathed deeply.

His bare skin under her hands was like a drug and she wanted
this moment to last forever. But he broke the hug all too soon. Had he noticed
a difference in the way she touched him?

“Anything for you, Annie. I know it was a hard decision to
give up your apartment. You’ve been here for four years. But if you want to
dedicate yourself to your art without a day job, something had to go.”

“Let’s see if you still feel that way when I’m still eating
your food, clogging up your bathroom counter with my girly necessities and
camping out in the guest bedroom in five years.” She snorted. “You’ll be
shipping me home to live in my mother’s basement.”

Anne had thought it was divine providence when Chase told
her she could move in with him when her lease was up. She’d done her four
years, gotten her degree, but she didn’t want to get a day job where she
wouldn’t be able to utilize her skills or be true to her art. And the sad
actuality of living in her mother’s basement was enough to make her consider
the day job.

“Sweets, you can live with me until you sign up with AARP. I
don’t care. Besides, you’ll have your own bathroom. So I won’t have to dodge
your dirty panties on the floor.” He smirked.

“What do you know of my dirty drawers, Chase Donovan?” What
did he know, indeed?

“You’re worse than a teenage boy about putting your dirty
clothes in the hamper. Sometimes I wonder if you’re really a girl.” He leaned
against the doorjamb casually, arms crossed over his chest and a lazy smile on
his face.

“Do you?” She looked down at her ample chest. “I’d say I’m
all girl.”

Chase gave her a once-over and the intensity in his eyes had
her biting her lip again. If she kept this up, she was going to bite the damn
thing off before the week was out. “Yeah, I guess you are.”

“What would Randa think of that?” Anne asked, referencing
his girlfriend. As much as she liked his attention and yearned for it, she
couldn’t function when he looked at her like that.

“You were here first.” Chase winked playfully and then
sighed. “Actually, I doubt she’d have much to say about it. She broke up with
me yesterday.”

“What?” She was crazy. Or maybe she’d found out about the
site. While Chase wasn’t a cheater, he’d had a few videos with other women.
Anne could understand not wanting to see your boyfriend doing the horizontal
mambo with someone else, even if it was before you. Or knowing there were
thousands of women imagining he was doing it to
them
—although that part
turned Anne on. Just a bit. Maybe because she was one of the thousands of girls
doing the imagining.

“Whatever.” He shrugged carelessly. “We weren’t in love. It
was more of a relationship of physical convenience, if you know what I mean.”
Chase gave her a pointed look.

“So, are we going for beers to celebrate or are we going to
watch
Pretty in Pink
and eat too much pizza and ice cream to feed our
misery that you no longer have a relationship of
physical convenience
?”

This had been so much easier when she’d been blissfully
unaware of his hard body, strong hands and big cock. It felt strange,
suggesting some girls’ night with him now, even though they’d done it plenty of
times. Chase had always been up for a late-night ice cream run or chowing down
with her while she fed her sorrow over some breakup. He’d even filled in for best-girlfriend
duty and polished her toenails when she was feeling really down. It was as
though the moment she’d become aware that he was Angus Beefcake, she perceived
him as a different person completely.

And he wasn’t. He was still Chase. In high school, when he’d
grown eight inches and his shoulders had filled out, he’d still been Chase.
Sure, she’d thought he was cute, but there’d never been this blaze of lust that
she felt for him now.

“Beers. It’s a celebration.” His expression didn’t match his
words because his mouth was set in a hard line.

“Not from the look on your face.”

“No, really. It’s a good thing.” He shrugged. “I’ll only
miss the regular sex.”

Anne almost choked. How much sex did he need? How often did
he need to come? Her cunt clenched and she longed to cross her legs, as if that
would stop the ache burning between them. If he needed it as often as she
thought about it, they’d both need a Gatorade IV drip.

“I never liked her anyway. You can do better,” Anne said
automatically.

“Not right now, I can’t. I don’t have time. I’ve got to
finish med school. Doesn’t leave much time for a relationship.”

Neither did jerking off to a porn site for her pleasure,
apparently.

“Yeah, but then you’ll be quite the catch,
Dr.
Donovan.” She made a kissy face at him, the one she’d teased him with since
fourth grade whenever he talked about a girl. Those times had been rare, so
they’d warranted a great deal of teasing.

“You know I’m holding out for my best girl to discover she’s
madly in love with me.” He gave her an easy grin.

Now! Tell him now, stupid. Tell him you want him to bend
you back over this couch and…
“And who would that be? Do I know her?” Anne
volleyed, as if she didn’t know he was teasing her.

They’d flirted like this since they were both knee high to a
duck, but it had never sent shivers coursing down her spine as it did now.
Their casual banter seemed like anything but these days. She wondered what he’d
do if she dropped that bomb on him, that she was curious about how sex would be
between them.

“I think you might. She’s a bit too tall for a girl, but
that’s okay because she makes me laugh.” He darted out from his place against
the door and grabbed her for another hug.

“I see, flawed but you’re willing to overlook it?” She
nodded seriously, trying to catch her breath. She wanted to be closer. His
playful hug was something more for her.

“A man would overlook a face like a bulldog for that rack.”
He smirked, but didn’t look down at her heaving chest. Her friend Gin always
made fun of that description, but she really
did
heave when she was
breathing heavily. Something she’d noticed now that she was doing it all the
time.

“Would he now? I don’t know if you should tell her that.”

“Why not?” Chase winked and her stomach flipped. “Does she
think she has a face like a bulldog?”

“You’re horrible.” Anne laughed.

“I know. I’m…what’s the phrase? An incorrigible reprobate?”
He was still holding on to her and she was still heaving, her breasts pressed
against the broad expanse of his chest, her palms splayed over his muscles.

“Stop reading my regencies!” She slapped at his shoulder.

“They’ve given me some great material.” He nodded knowingly.

“I never should have given you that first one I read when we
were twelve.”

“Oh no, I thank you,” Chase said with a healthy dose of
enthusiasm.

“I’m sure the rest of the female population of KU does not.”

“I don’t know about that.” A self-satisfied look came over
his face.

Anne was surprised her mouth was working at all at this
point. He had yet to let go of her, as if holding her close like that was an
everyday occurrence. It wasn’t, and neither of them seemed inclined to let go,
but Anne knew she was going to make an ass of herself directly if one of them
didn’t move. “If I’m your best girl, shouldn’t you be carrying me off into the sunset
or something?”

“I don’t have a horse.” He shrugged.

“No, but you have a couple
hundred
horses under the
hood of a Dodge that has air conditioning.”

“Who said
you
were my best girl?” Chase raised a
perfectly arched black brow.

“If I’m not, then let
her
come over and rub your back
tonight.” She moved her hands over his back to drive the point home, but she
couldn’t have stopped touching him now if her life depended on it.

“Okay, I give,” he surrendered. “But in the interest of said
back, I’m not carrying you down the stairs.”

“Are you trying to say something?” She put her hands on her
hips and narrowed her eyes, his insinuation doing what money or guns
couldn’t—prying her off him.