Justine’s breath rasped quickly in her throat. She squirmed, trying to get enough oxygen, but Talia leaned forward further, trapping her into the corner of the sofa.
“We shouldn’t.” Justine shook her head, eyes wide, searching her best friend’s face. “Talia, it’s wrong…”
She felt her heart thundering, pulsing in her throat, felt like she might explode, then finally Talia nodded, sitting back, and Justine felt a loss that tore at her heart.
Her gaze absently traced the line of Talia’s waist, her hips, the way her thighs curved beneath the tight leggings. She watched as Talia leaned over to the coffee table, tits pressing out against her tank top, and grabbed the pot of ice cream, two spoons still sticking up out of the top.
“You’re right,” Talia said, brushing long dark hair back from her face. “I mean, if Trent or Jay ever found out…” She glanced up, lust glinting in her grey eyes, then held out the tub and Justine almost instinctively took her spoon, scooping half-melted mint-chocolate-chip from the bottom. “It’s just late, that’s all.”
Justine nodded emphatically, though the excuse made no sense. “Just late,” she repeated, then missed her mouth with the spoon.
Cold ice cream trickled down her chin, dropped onto her chest and slid under the neck of her T-shirt, settling in the cup of her bra against her right breast. She swore under her breath and looked down, trying to find it, but knew exactly where it was.
“How clumsy,” Talia said, right beside her ear, making Justine jump.
Her eyes darted up.
Talia was closer now than before, staring right into Justine’s face, looking for something. And whatever it was, she found it. Without warning, she darted forward, mouth opening, and Justine thought they were going to kiss. She held her breath in anticipation, had to fight the squeal building at the back of her throat.
Instead, Talia licked the dribble of ice cream from her chin, then sat back, letting her tongue linger over her own lips.
“You taste like chocolate,” she whispered, and Justine shivered but didn’t avert her eyes. “And mint.”
Justine hesitated, then bit the corner of her lip as she said, “There’s more.”
Without a word, Talia took the hem of Justine’s T-shirt in both hands and lifted. Justine raised her arms up over her head and clenched her stomach muscles as her flesh was bared. It wasn’t cold in Talia and Jay’s apartment, but she shivered nonetheless. The T-shirt slid over her arms, over her head, and was dropped unceremoniously on the floor. Talia leaned forward, placed her lips against Justine’s breast, and slid her tongue along the trail of ice cream, keeping her eyes pointing up beneath her lashes, watching Justine’s reaction.
Justine bleated. She couldn’t help it. The cold ice cream, the feel of Talia’s tongue on her bare skin, the ticklish sensation of another person touching such an intimate area. She squirmed, but felt Talia’s hand go to her back, holding her tight as she followed the cream upwards.
When Talia’s lips found her throat, Justine broke eye contact, tilting her head back and sighing. She let a small moan drop from her mouth as Talia’s teeth playfully nipped at the delicate flesh at the base of her neck.
“What if the boys -”
“They’ll be gone for hours.” Talia leaned in closer, her body pressing firmly against Justine’s, her face nuzzling into the space where Justine’s jaw met her ear. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
“I’m not sure what this is.”
“Two friends enjoying each other’s company.” Talia’s hand slid down the side of Justine’s body, along her hip, teasing the skin beneath the waistband of her skirt. “Just like Jay and Trent watching football, only I don’t like football and nor do you.”
Justine wanted Talia’s hand to go lower. For a second, she imagined telling her no, telling her this wasn’t what she wanted. The regret ached.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” Talia repeated.
Justine felt the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. The confusion was impossible to reconcile. She loved Trent, she didn’t want to betray him. She told herself that she should leave. Go home. She could masturbate over thoughts of Talia’s hands, her lips, her bare flesh.
But she would always wonder. There would always be that little what if.
And if their friendship carried on, what then? Would there be this constant tension between them? Would she even be able to look at her best friend without her nipples peaking, without her sex burning?
“I love you. I want you to be happy.”
“I love you too, but…”
“Just say what you want to say. You’re in charge here.” Talia’s hand stayed right where it was, fingertips making little indents against Justine’s pelvis. “Tell me you don’t -”
“I do.” Justine turned her head, watched her best friend’s lips part almost imperceptibly, just a glint of white teeth in the space between. “I want this,” she said, and closed her eyes as she waited for the kiss.
Continue to Her Best Friend’s Lips Part 2!
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