Just Friends

5 | Performance Anxiety

CHAPTER 5

PERFORMANCE ANXIETY

There's silence, so much silence as the moment stretches. And I watch as Alice turns the knob to switch off the stove.

Then she turns her head to the side, so I can see her in profile, but she's still not quite looking at me. "Yes," she admits, biting her bottom lip as soon as the word is out. "I want you."

Her next words light a fire in me. "Tell me what you want to do with me," she demands. Seeing this dominant, sexy side of Alice makes me want to kneel at her feet and worship her for the sexual goddess she is.

Instead, I run my hands over her body, waiting for her to stop me. That feeling her this way is too good to be true. My hands land on her hips, pulling her ass until it fits snugly against my hips. I grind into her, letting her feel the aroused swell of me, exactly how much I want her.

"I'd bend you over the countertop." I pivot us so we're facing the smooth, cold benchtop on the opposite side. Her hands reach out to grab the ends of the bench, bending a little as if enacting out my lurid imaginations. "I'd pull down your shorts until they tangle at your ankles. But I'd leave your underwear on, for now."

"Why?" She whispers, her voice taut with arousal.

"I'd want to see how my hand looks moving underneath your pale blue panties." I want to watch her writhe while I rub her clitoris, I want to feel her juices on my fingers, so that when I finally do pull her underwear down, and slide my fingers into her – first one, then two – I'd hear wet noises when I finger her.

My patience disappears. I've had enough talking. I want to take her hard and fast against the countertop, hell, I even want to do it with her facing me, legs wrapped around my waist and her back pressed up against the cool, stainless steel fridge.

"We shouldn't," she says, dancing out of my grip. The quick change of track feels like she has thrown a whole bucket of ice cold water over me.

I stare wordlessly at her.

"Sex will complicate things," she throws the words at me quickly, as if the explanation will soften the blow of her rejection. "It would complicate us."

For some reason, a wave of irrational anger rises inside me. A temporary mask for the hurt that her rejection digs inside my chest. "I thought you wanted this – you were talking about wanting to orgasm and get your sexual drive back last night."

"I didn't want to do it with you!" Her voice rises to a hysterical pitch.

"Didn't you?" I know I'm being so sanctimonious at the moment. And there's a part of me that hates myself for it. But I take a step forward to challenge her. "There wasn't a small part of you that came to see me, alone I might add because you wanted to sleep with me?"

I cross my arms across my chest as I put the nail in the coffin. "You wanted to use my sexual prowess to awaken your sexual drive – tell me the thought didn't cross your mind."

There's silence. And I know I've won, as I can see Alice staring furiously back at me. Her silence is answer enough. But for some reason, I don't feel like I'm winning.

Winning would feel like slipping inside her, and Alice crying out in ecstasy. Not us at opposite ends of the kitchen yelling at each other.

"The thought did cross my mind, okay?" Her voice is agitated, filled with sexual frustration that she's not allowing herself the opportunity to release. But she's not full blown angry anymore, and I feel something inside me loosen. "But I would never assume that of you. I'd never assume that just because I have a vagina and breasts that you'd want to sleep with me."

"Well," my voice softens in reply, "you probably should have assumed, you have some great breasts."

And I still haven't properly groped them. They look like they'd fit my hands just right. I can see the outline of her areolas through her thin singlet and that makes me only want to touch her more.

"And that wasn't my intention when I did start talking to you. I meant what I said," she says, "I feel way more comfortable talking to you about this stuff than I ever would with Aiden."

"Did I help at all?" I ask, unable to look into her eyes, my eyes instead fixating on the way she's shifting on her feet.

"What do you mean?" Her expression is confused.

"With your sexual drive – do you think it's back?"

Alice rolls her eyes. "I don't want to stroke your ego, but yes, Eli – you turned me on."

I can't help the grin that breaks out across my face. "Where few ventured before and did not succeed, I, Elijah Hamilton have managed to –"

Alice bridges the gap between us and playfully punches me in the shoulder. "Oh shut up."

"So now it's just the orgasm bit left now," I conclude. "Are you sure you don't want my help?" I wiggle my eyebrows at her.

She's only a step away from me now, as she passes me to get the plate of pancakes we made and puts it on the little two-seater table. I grab some plates and cutlery and bring them over.

"To be honest," Alice starts nonchalantly as she opens the fridge to get out the maple syrup, "as soon as you leave I'm probably going to do myself."

With the thought of Alice rubbing herself off, food suddenly does not rate as a priority. Alice joins me at the table, smirking a little at how she made me speechless.

"Why not do it now?" I ask her.

"Get myself off with you here?" Alice laughs in disbelief. "No way!"

"You thought sex would complicate things, but this way you're keeping your hands to yourself. No messy feelings involved. Just pleasure."

I can see Alice is contemplating the idea, as she's squirming in her seat slightly. The thought of me watching her get herself off is turning her on, I can tell. I think anything with me involved is turning her on now though.

Finally, Alice shakes her head. "Nah, it's too much pressure for you to watch me. I might have performance anxiety or something."

"How about if I also get myself off?" I offer.

Alice lifts a wry eyebrow at me. "Is this for my pleasure or for yours?"

"Por que no los dos?" I reply with a wink – yes, I totally learned that off that ad - before I drizzle an indulgent amount of maple syrup on my pancake. "You're really considering this, aren't you?"

She nods. "I must admit that I've always wondered what you've been packing," her eyes lower meaningfully.

And I gulp. I hoarsely reply, "Maybe I'm the one who is going to have performance anxiety."

We finish the rest of the pancakes in silence. There is so much sexual tension in this room that no amount of maple syrup and sugar is going to fix.

"Okay, yes," Alice decides after we've finished and I'm clearing our plates. "Let's do it."

She waggles a finger at me. "We're only doing this one time. And only because I really want my orgasms to come back – and I think having you getting yourself off in front of me will distract me."

"My parents always told me I'd become something amazing. I'm not sure they were thinking 'a distraction'." I attempt to lighten the situation with a lousy joke.

Alice is already walking back to her bedroom, at the door she looks over her shoulder. "Leave the dishes," she commands. "Do you want to see me get off or not?"

I hurriedly dump the dishes that I was holding on the bench and follow her.