Only you | Derek Morgan

Beg me for it

D E R E K ' S   P O V

This sofa sucks ass.

The springs are digging into my back, the blanket is scratchy and I can't stop tossing and turning. The room is dark and my arms are crossed over my chest, frowning at the ceiling while I wait for sleep to come.

I jolt when a pillow unexpectedly smacks me square in the face. "What the fuck was that for?" I laugh, squinting in the darkness when I sit up.

"You're making so much noise," Layla says, reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp. A dull light illuminates the room and I can see her tiny figure curled in the duvet looking over at me. "I can't sleep with you audibly sulking over there."

I launch the pillow back at her. "Oh I'm sorry miss princess and the pea over there with the softest, fluffiest, most luxurious feather mattresses in the castle."

Layla's soft laugh travels between us and a smile crosses my lips at how much I love that sound. "Come on," She says though a roll of her eyes. She pulls back the covers, opening up some space. "Sleep up here then, dramatic ass."

I pause with one foot off the sofa, shooting her a teasing look. I'd never turn down that offer, but you best believe I'm going to taunt her about it. "Isn't this breaking the friendship rules?"

Another pillow is tossed at my head. "Shut up and get up here before I change my mind."

Crossing the room, I slip underneath the comforter, immediately sighing contently as my back sinks into the soft mattress. I keep some space between us, staying to my side of the bed and Layla stays to hers. The lamp is switched off and Layla mumbles a quiet goodnight which I return.

Twenty minutes pass and this time it's not me who's tossing and turning in the bed. I groan and a sleepy, questioning sound falls from my lips.

"I'm sorry," Layla says quietly, turning on her side to face me. "I can't sleep."

"You know what helps me sleep?" I grumble into the pillow.

"What?"

"Orgasms."

I slowly peak one eye open when I don't get a response from her. She's already looking at me, and the expression on her face is intrigued. She's been the one putting the stop on us getting physical again and I think I may have caught a moment of weakness and broke the barrier. I've got her attention, now I need to convince her because she wants it, I can tell by the look on her face she wants to give into her desires, but a bigger part of her also looks like she's about to shut it down.

Sure enough she groans, covering her face with her hands. "We can't. We're just friends, Derek. Friends."

The words she's saying does not match her shaky tone one bit. She wants this. I hope she's not banking on me being the tough one too stop whatever is happening between us because fuck that.

The room is dark, only a sliver of moonlight peeking through a gap in the curtains and hitting the wall above the bed. Layla's breath hitches when I place my hand on her hip, slipping my thumb underneath her shirt to draw circles in her skin.

"Don't you remember how good it felt?" I say, slowly inching closer to her. My fingers dance over her smooth skin, feeling the way she unknowingly leans into my touch. "I'm attracted to you, you're attracted to me, so what's the issue?"

I don't know why Layla even thinks she can deny it because it's blatantly obvious. "No I'm not," She says weakly.

My gaze drops to her chest and the peaks poking through the thin fabric of my shirt. "Really? Because your nipples could cut glass right now."