Stevie doubled over in laughter, the two of them in hysterics on the sofa of her hotel suite as they recounted stories from their early years in Fritz. It was well past midnight now, but Lindsey decided to stay and "hang out" as they both tried to bury the hatchet over a bottle of wine — and many memories to go with it.
"Please, my stomach," she cried out, tears forming from her laughter.
"I'm going to have six-pack abs by the end of the night," he laughed along with her.
"Oh god, I'm so glad you stayed. I seriously forgot all about that day."
"Some of the shit we did was so stupid," he shook his head, the laughter finally subsiding.
"Well, all the weed we were smoking certainly didn't help."
He grinned, "Well, it helped it some ways."
She caught his eye with a laugh, "Do you still....?"
"When I can sneak away from my wife and kids in the studio."
"Well, your wife and kids aren't here now...."
He was shocked by her response, eyeing her curiously now, a wide grin taking over her face, "Tsk tsk, are you saying you've got something in this very suite, Miss Nicks?"
"I like to use it to write! For creative purposes."
"Well, as two creatives, we owe it to ourselves, I suppose. For old time's sake."
A huge smile broke out on her face as she jumped up to run into the bedroom. Lindsey eagerly waited, pleasantly surprised by the turn of the evening. Not long ago, they were ready to rip each other's hair out on stage. Now, they were laughing, drinking, and rolling joints together while reminiscing over the good ole days.
"Got it," she announced making her way back in, a perfectly rolled joint in hand, "I only have one left though, so we have to share."
"Fine by me," he watched as she lit the joint, taking a seat entirely too close to him on the couch as she took a drag, her eyes closing at the sensation. He couldn't help but think she looked incredibly beautiful in that moment.
She eyed him with a glare, feeling his intense gaze on her. Passing him the joint, she watched intently as he placed it between his lips, her eyes never once leaving him. She didn't smoke much these days, but there was something incredibly nostalgic and sweet about she and Lindsey finding themselves in this situation tonight.
"This evening has certainly taken a turn," he broke the silence finally.
"I'm not mad about it," she smiled, "Are you?"
"Certainly not."
"I love us like this," she sighed dreamily, sitting back against the couch, a slight high already hitting her.
"Me too, I like being friends."
She smiled, her hand tenderly grazing his jawline as he passed the joint back to her, "You're still so beautiful, Linds."
"Beautiful?" He groaned.
"Yes," she giggled, "Beautiful. You are. Always have been."
"Isn't this breaking the rules?"
"Yes," she sighed, "I'm sorry. It's the weed talking. Sort of."
"I'm trying so hard not to say anything on my mind, I don't want to get kicked out," he admitted.
She laughed, "Tell me what's on your mind. I promise I won't kick you out, I'm having too good of a buzz right now."
"I'm thinking about how I can still see that 17-year-old girl smiling back at me after all these years. And how incredible it is that somehow you're still able to make me feel like...this."
"Like what?" She asked curiously, her voice suddenly low and raspy, almost like a whisper.
"Completely alive. On fire. In awe."
She shook her head playfully, brushing it off, "Oh, please."
"I'm serious. You'll make fun of me but I...well, I still get butterflies when I see you."
Her eyes finally met his again, completely in awe at his sweet admission, "Linds," she didn't know what to say.
"And I'm thinking that Dave is a very lucky man. I know the magic of what it's like to have you."
She shook her head again, "Don't."
"I'm sorry, it's the weed talking," he mocked her earlier statement, causing a smile to break on her lips.
"Hey, remember when we used to shotgun?"
"I do..." he laughed.
"We're almost out," she held up the remaining joint, which was almost all gone, in her fingers, "Shall we?"
He laughed again, "Seriously?"
"What? Don't think you can handle it?"
"Oh I hate that you know that will work on me," he smiled, "Go ahead. Are you blowing?"
They both laughed at his slip of tongue, "Sure, I can show you I'm still so good at it," she bit her lip playfully.
He closed his eyes with a smile, trying to refrain from crossing a line, "No comment," he laughed.
She giggled and held the joint up to her lips now. Taking a long drag, she held the smoke in her mouth and moved closer to Lindsey, who wasn't taking his eyes off her. In a slow movement, she lifted her lips up to his as he parted his mouth gently, feeling a jolt of electricity as she leaned her hands on his lap to get closer. Leaning up to his lips, she blew the smoke directly into his mouth, their lips softly touching as he sucked it in. She watched him with a smile as her hands grazed his thighs now, awaiting his reaction.
Within seconds, they were both hysterically laughing again, embarrassed by their own childish behavior. Stevie continued leaning into his lap as they attempted to collect themselves, but their high was only getting stronger now.
"I can't believe we just did that," he laughed, his voice low.
Her eyes continued to bore into his as she watched his breathing increase. Suddenly, neither one of them was laughing anymore, the mood had completely shifted and they both became aware of just how close they were. He wanted to say something, but before he could think of any words, he watched as her lips once again leaned into him. He was afraid to make any sudden movements, on edge that he may get in trouble for crossing a line—even though they'd somehow managed to cross about a million tonight. Again.
But Stevie didn't stop, she leaned right in until her lips enveloped his lower lip gently, sucking ever-so-slightly. Her hands ran up his arms now, snaking around his shoulders as she pulled back and looked into his eyes once again. She was searching for an answer, a reaction, anything to tell her to stop. But in the quiet of the moment, there was suddenly nothing holding either one of them back, the delicious high now lowering all their inhibitions.
"We're just friends," she whispered against his lips, and he wasn't sure whether she was telling herself that or him.
Nevertheless, he decided it was important to agree, "Just friends," he repeated with a soft nod.
He wasn't sure that friends straddled each other's laps, but Stevie decided they did as she climbed on top of him on the sofa, her thighs now straddling his. He groaned as she dipped her hips ever so slightly, her center just barely grazing his lap now. Instinctively, his hands ran up her thighs, taking a hold of her hips before running down across her ass. God, she felt incredible.
Her breathing increased as her arms wrapped around his neck, but she didn't kiss him again. Instead, she lingered in his face - their breath bouncing off one another as they stared intently in each other's eyes. He tightened his grip on her hips, pulling her further down on his lap, causing a tiny moan to escape the back of her throat. As she bounced up and down very slowly, she felt a bulge forming in his jeans.
"Fuck," he whispered, his hands running up into her hair roughly, pulling her head closer to his - their lips still not touching.
She grinded her hips up and down over his lap, her movements so slow and small as if she was trying to hide the fact that she was doing anything at all. He couldn't help but pull at the back of her hair, his fingers scratching through her scalp, sending shrivers down her spine.
"Maybe just a few more minutes," she whispered against him, her wet lips grazing his earlobe sensually. That alone was enough to make him come right then and there.
"Ten minutes," he negotiated, his lips now running down her neck slowly.
"Five minutes."
"Seven minutes."
"Six minutes, final offer," she whispered as her tongue slipped out to suck the nape of his neck. He couldn't help but let out a moan.
"Deal," he groaned, a smile on his face at their back and forth antics.
"Friends kiss?" She tried to reason.
"Absolutely," he grinned, seizing her lips immediately.
She whimpered as his tongue entered her mouth swiftly, running through her mouth as his fingers ran through her hair. Every single feeling, movement, sensation was intoxicating. Maybe it was the bottle of wine, maybe it was the joint, or maybe it was the insane chemistry they still managed to have regardless of how much time had passed. Either way, neither of them bothered to set a timer for their agreed upon six minutes.
"God, you feel good," she moaned into his mouth, "I hate that you feel so good."
"I hate that you feel so good."
"We have to stop," she whispered.
"I know."
"Okay," she continued kissing him again, her hips dipping harder against his now fully formed erection.
He groaned at the sensation, hungrily battling against her tongue as he felt her hands run under his shirt and across his chest. She moaned into his mouth as she pulled at his chest hair sensually, her nails running back and forth over his skin. He broke their lips apart, now nibbling down her neck in all the spots he knew were most sensitive. She writhed in his lap, the feelings all too much as every nerve ending of her body was currently on fire.
"You're still so sexy," he whispered as he reached her collarbone with his tongue, sucking gently as he placed kisses across it.
"No, you are," she breathed heavily into the air.
"Okay, we both are," he grinned as he kissed her lips once more, feeling her lips turn up in a smile.
As their movements became more frenzied, it became clear that their six minutes was long overdue now. But neither one of them could stop, caught up in an unexpected whirlwind that was currently holding them both hostage on this couch.
She pulled back, looking into his eyes as her lips lingered just in front of his, "Friends make love," she whispered so softly he barely heard her.
Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, her legs wrapped around his waist. For a minute, he half-waited for her to stop him. But her arms just wrapped tighter around his neck as she began letting out a series of soft, unstoppable moans.
Placing her down on the bed gently, he lingered above her, studying her in this moment. Her hair sprawled out all over the bed wildly, her robe now fully opened and revealing the black silk nightgown underneath, her cleavage spilling out the top lusciously. He felt ready to burst then and there at the image alone.
"Come here," she whined, her finger beckoning to him.
He grinned, climbing on top of her and settling in-between her legs. Immediately, she pulled his shirt over his head hungrily, wanting to feel his bare skin. He pulled back and looked at her with a smile as she ran her hands up and down his bare torso. She bit her lip as he watched her.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
She knew what she should say. But she also knew that this felt way too good to stop. And since when were they ever ones to make responsible, thought-out decisions?
She nodded wordlessly, her hand now firmly planted on the belt buckle of his jeans. "Please, I need to feel you inside me again."
--
*This story has taken a slightly Mature turn, I hope that's okay with you guys. I feel like it would be (lol) but just as an FYI and warning...mature themes will probably continue.