I wish I could blame it on the mood brought on by the hot summer night, or the four dirty martinis I’d had when normally my limit is two, or even the medicinal cannabis that he’d offered me earlier that evening… I wish I could say we’d “made love”; somehow the notion of what we’d done being driven by pure love, the fairytale kind, would have made me feel better about this whole thing. And I do love him, as I’m sure he loves me; have since we were kids. But the truth is I’d gone back to his house out of familiarity. Let him kiss my neck and then my thighs out of curiosity. But I’d invited him between them out of pure lust.
If I can be honest it was probably a long time coming. It was definitely premeditated. Knowing him, he thinks it was all his doing but I’ve gotta take the blame.
When I agreed to accompany him to the club where he was performing I’d chosen my attire strategically. I know what my assets are and I’d made sure that he did too. The LBD I’d worn was perfect for both the weather and the occasion; just short enough to entice. His first words when I’d arrived had been “So that’s how you feel, huh?” I’d replied with a coy smile that said “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” no actual words were necessary.
When we arrived to the venue, he’d gone to greet his band while I’d gone straight to the bar, ordering a triple shot of Jameson for him and a Ketel One martini for myself. I was already buzzing so it didn’t take much for me to get to my happy place.
Even though there was a VIP section available, I’d chosen a more private booth in a corner near the stage. I’d sent his drink to him and then a text to let him know where I was. I gave him space to mingle with the crowd and after making his rounds he made his way back to my booth, another round of drinks in his hands. He had placed the case that held his instrument beneath the table opting to keep it close rather than leave his gear in the area reserved for performers. When he did, he’d “accidentally” let his hand graze my thigh and to his surprise I hadn’t reprimanded him or jumped at his touch as I normally would have. Then he slid into the booth across from me, his leg touching mine beneath the table and asked “You cool?” I replied, “I’m great. Thank you,” taking the drink he slid across the table.
The band played for a while and when the MC finally called him to the stage I had joked, “Don’t hurt em killa,” as he’d excused himself.
Watching him play I had never been more attracted; to him or to anyone else. There’s something about watching an artist in his element… As Dom played on stage, I replayed our last conversation in my head just as I had re-read the texts that had prompted that conversation.
My friend, the same one whom I had walked home from school with in Jr. High, had told me that he’d finally realized what I guessed I’d always known. That his feelings for me were more than platonic. What I hadn’t said then was that my feelings were the same.
After his set was done, we’d had dinner keeping the conversation pretty light. Neither of us addressing the elephant in the room. We’d stayed until closing just listening to the music. Twice Mark had called and twice I had ignored the call.
While we waited for the valet to bring his car he had asked me what my curfew was. I’d laughed never giving an answer, instead suggesting that we visit one of his favorite after hours spots. And although we had agreed that that would be the next stop, we’d somehow ended up at his place.
On the elevator ride up to the 10th-floor loft that doubled as his studio and had an amazing view of downtown, I had almost chickened out, but still we ended up on his couch. I curled up in a familiar spot, kicking my Giusseppe sandals off and pulling my feet beneath me. He disappeared into the kitchen and I could hear the sounds of glasses clinking as drinks were poured. By the time he made it back to the couch I was reclined, eyes closed in that hazy space between high and sleep. He sat next to me grabbing a remote from the end table and turning on the stereo system mounted on the wall beneath the ridiculously large flat screen TV.
90’s era R&B came whispering from the speakers and I couldn’t help but smile. He playfully mouthed the words to “Piece of My Love” by Guy. I pretended to be offended by his song choice but the truth was, a “piece of my love” was all I had to offer. And I was fully prepared to offer it to him.
He moved closer, sort of singing the song in my ear until we were so close I could feel his breath on my face. My own breath caught in my throat when he leaned in and kissed me softly on my neck. Instinctively, I leaned back in what was clearly an invitation; wasting no time he kissed and sucked along my collar bone and across the front of my dress sliding down off the couch and onto the carpet until his kisses landed at my knees. He was hesitant, yet authoritative. So sure of himself, yet expecting me to stop him at any moment. And when he pushed my knees apart and lowered his head, he finally looked up to catch me watching him. Waiting. He rubbed along my inner thigh and we stared. A dare. Again, waiting. After a few minutes I spread my knees further apart and he took my queue, moving his hand so that he rubbed over the lacy black triangle that covered the sweetest part of me. And I let him.
I let him kiss, then pull that lacy black triangle to the side and kiss beneath it. I didn’t stop him when he threw my leg over his shoulder and tasted me fully. I didn’t stop him for the next twenty minutes. I couldn’t. I couldn’t do much more than lay there thrusting against his face and trying to suppress the sounds coming from my throat. Even when he sat back, face glistening and asked me if he should stop, I still didn’t stop him. Instead I steadied myself enough to sit up and reach for his belt. Despite all that we’d already done the surprise on his face was obvious. And as I unbuckled his belt he reached into his back pocket for that little gold wrapper. And once he was wrapped, I fucked my best friend. Or rather he fucked me.
It was after 2am and once again, I found myself awake.
The Friend Zone is part of Black&Sexy TV’s new short story series. Be on the look out for the next episode May 30th.