ForNever Mine: A Friends With Benefits ErotiCom, page 1
fornever mine
A Friends With Benefits Holiday ErotiCom
irene bahrd
For my dark romance readers who need a good laugh.
To everyone else…. better run, little one.
contents
Content Warnings
1. Beth
2. Beth
3. Axl
4. Beth
5. Beth
6. Axl
7. Axl
8. Beth
9. Axl
10. Beth
11. Axl
12. Beth
Axl
Fourteen Shades of Red
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Irene Bahrd
content warnings
ForNever Mine takes place in fictional Coal’s Lake, Alberta. Since they are in Canada, both POVs are written with extra u’s in words that wouldn’t have them in the US.
By reading this book, there is a good chance you will experience the following side effects:
Wet panties — stuffed in your mouth.
Considering a friends with benefits situationship.
Stealing a 5-gallon bucket of lube.
Having sex in random places all over town.
You’re welcome.
All jokes aside, this is a slow-burn ErotiCom (high-spice romantic comedy) with a ton of on-page explicit content. It is intended for mature audiences. Also, it’s a short novella, so only expect this sexy read to make you break out your buzzbuzz a few times before it’s over.
Please Note: This book was written for dark romance readers. It is NOT a dark romance, but contains themes that were suggested by dark romance authors and readers. This was their wishlist:
CNC — FMC with another man
Oral sexytime — it’s an Irene Bahrd trademark, you knew it was coming
Butt stuff for both the FMC and MMC
Love triangle
Boot fucking
Almost feet stuff
Creepy neighbor (briefly mentioned)
Voyeurism/exhibitionism
Grocery store sexytime
Twelve mentions of “devour”
The word “moist” used once
The term “snatch juice” used once
If you are triggered by anything in this book, do us both a favor and don’t read anything else in my backlist. Even though this is one of the spiciest stories I’ve told, the rest of my books are equally unhinged.
Author Note: This is NOT a how-to guide. You will probably be arrested if caught fucking in public. Also, there are no conversations about protection from STIs/pregnancy in this book. Please be safe and talk to your doctor about what works best for you and/or your sexual partners.
Additionally, with permission from the authors, this book contains mild spoilers, characters and cameos from Naughty All The Way by Valerie Pepper, A Courier for Christmas by Eliza Anne, Unconventional Love by Eliza Anne, and Merry in Spite by Irene Bahrd. Reader discretion advised.
beth
. . .
Christmas Morning
“Fuck, you’re perfect, taking my cock so well.”
“Don’t make it weird,” I groan over my shoulder, as Axl’s relentless thrusts drive deeper and harder into me from behind. So help me, if he’s catching feelings…
He grips my hips tighter as I push back into him. We have to move quickly. It’s only a matter of time before my parents come home. I’m pretty sure my brother, Tristan, and his boyfriend, Myles, are fucking on the couch downstairs. The last thing my parents need is to catch both of their kids being bent over on Christmas.
My hands firmly on the headboard, I arch my back to change the angle. While Axl and I have known one another for years, we only started fucking when I came home for the holidays. Our friends with benefits situation has made being back in Coal’s Lake a bit more tolerable, even if he doesn’t know everything that I need to get off… yet.
Axl reaches around to play with my clit and I send up a silent prayer to the clit gods that he at least knows where it is. His slow circles aren’t enough. I reach between my legs to guide him to quicken the pace and increase the pressure. Like the good boy he is, he follows my lead and brings me moments from finally coming. I wind tighter and tighter, almost there… until he kisses my back. It isn’t a hot, growly nip. It’s a sweet, sensual press of his lips against my skin.
With my orgasm leaving the room without so much as saying goodbye, I do what any woman in my position would do…
“Right there, I’m so close.” Please stop kissing my back and come already. I tighten my pussy and begin expertly timed kegel exercises. “Oh… Axl… yes…”
Damn, I hope that’s believable.
“Fuck, baby, I’m coming,” he groans.
Gross, did he just call me baby? I let him finish and decide this has to be the last time I sleep with him. We were good friends before this arrangement, and I don’t want to lose that piece, but I can’t be sleeping with him if he wants more. I’m going back to Calgary to finish my dissertation proposal next week. If I want my masters thesis in sociology approved, and to continue my research for my doctorate, there’s no time for boyfriends or shattered hearts.
Axl’s empties himself into the condom, his breaths broken and ragged. He presses a final kiss to my back and pulls out, sitting back on his heels. “Shit, B.” He palms my ass with both hands. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just faked it with me.”
Fuuuuuuck.
I shut my eyes tight and insist, “No, I didn’t.”
He climbs off the bed and discards the condom in my bathroom trash, as I turn to sit. When he returns, he lightly licks his lip and demands, “Hands back on the headboard, baby. Since you didn’t come on my cock, you’re sure as fuck coming all over my face while I devour your pussy.”
And just like that… I’m wet again.
beth
. . .
January 2nd
I’m an asshole.
And I can’t get away from Coal’s Lake fast enough.
As much as I adore my family, the small town is beyond stifling. Christmas there feels like something out of a made-for-TV movie. Even my brother had a stereotypical ‘grumpy guy is home for the holidays and rescues a hot chocolate stand’ moment. Granted, no hot chocolate stands were rescued, but my brother and his boyfriend had the second chance romance you only see in romcom books and ridiculous holiday movies—the ones that are so bad, they’re good.
There’s not enough spiked eggnog in Alberta for me to tolerate their fucking all over town. That doesn’t even include the random bucket of lube I found while taking out the Comets’ trash a few weeks ago. I know damn well Tristan sent it to Myles—he sends me random as fuck items when he has too much to drink.
I tried to do a good deed, help tidy someone’s house for the holidays because they asked… Boom. Lube. Did I take it for myself? After checking that it was sealed, absolutely.
Despite the glorious find in my neighbour’s trash—that I will absolutely save for a rainy day—I’m on my way back to Calgary. I feel like a fucking dick (not a pussy—those are strong and resilient) for how I treated Axl while I was visiting. We’ve been friends for years, but I used him as my own personal fucktoy for a few weeks.
Driving down the highway, singing at the top of my lungs to early ‘00s alternative, a notification flashes on my dash screen. I click on it and my car speaker blares, “Message from Fuckboy Troy. Meeting was moved up to tomorrow.”
Fuck!
I click my hands-free voice command. “Text Troy.”
“Which Troy would you like to message? Troy Martin or Fuckboy Troy?”
I groan, “Fuckboy Troy.”
“What would you like to text Fuckboy Troy?” my car asks, but I swear it’s giving me attitude.
“What time?”
“Your message reads ‘want time?’”
“Fuck you, no! What. Time.”
“Sending ‘want time’ to Fuckboy Troy.”
Fuck this car. Fuck my phone. Fuck my life.
A few minutes pass and a new message appears on the screen. My asshole car tells me my meeting is at 8am, which only furthers my annoyance. I’ll be getting in late tonight and will need to rush to get everything ready.
This isn’t just any meeting, it’s my fucking doctorate dissertation proposal. Its an expansion of my masters thesis, and if it doesn’t get approved, I’ll need to go back to the drawing board and figure out what the hell I’m going to do.
I speed home, just over the limit so that I don’t get pulled over. Last thing I need is Mountie Cupid giving me shit for hauling ass through town. Once at my apartment, I start a load of laundry and call Troy. Unfortunately, the meeting is still at 8am. I should go to bed, start the day well rested, but Troy insists on coming over.
After being home for less than an hour, I’m mid-laundry rotation when there’s a knock at the door. I finish moving everything into the dryer and take a deep breath. I really didn’t want to see him tonight, especially after the last two weeks with Axl. He still came, despite my hesitation.
I cross my apartment, and open the door to find a ruggedly handsome and impeccably dressed Troy, leaning against the door frame. As hot as he is, I don’t have time or energy for this tonight.
“How was Coal’s Lake, eh?” He greets me with a kiss to my cheek, and the worst accent I’ve h eard in my life. Fucking Americans.
My jaw tics and I grit out, “I told you, I have to prepare for tomorrow. Now isn’t a good time.”
Troy pushes past me into my apartment, disregarding me for a second time tonight. He takes off his shoes, leaving them haphazardly in my entryway. If he wasn’t amazing in bed, and potentially on my dissertation committee, I’d throw his shoes out my front door into the snow. I never planned on continuing our arrangement when he joined my thesis committee, but ending whatever this is didn’t feel like an option without things getting weird. Thankfully, no one on the committee knows.
“You’re cute when you’re mad.”
I stifle yet another groan. “I’m not mad.” I am absolutely mad.
“Whatever you say, Bethy.”
Don’t murder Troy.
I let out a long breath and lock the door, moving his shoes away from the entry. As I glance up, he’s already unbuckling his belt.
This friends with benefits situation is nothing like what I had with Axl, and I don’t know if I can stomach it tonight. He’ll probably want to try some new kinky shit he read about online. I’m not really in the mood but…
Let the show begin.
axl
. . .
January 19th
After an eventful holiday season of check-ins at Jamie’s Lodge, and moonlighting as a ‘dancer’ for various private parties, I’m fucking exhausted. Is my engineering degree being put to good use? No. But I make more money stripping for nearly married women and their friends than I do at the hotel I work at. There aren’t a lot of jobs that require my education in our small town; I’m just happy to be working jobs I enjoy.
Since my roommate, Gabe, is busy helping the Comets and the Andersons tonight with taking down their decorations, I’m picking up an extra shift at work. Why it takes five men to take down lights and inflatable Santas is beyond me. That’s not even taking into consideration that it’s almost a month after Christmas.
Mid-January is a quiet time at the lodge. While we still see the tail end of tourist season, most of the holiday travel is done, and we’ve only had a handful of guests in the past couple weeks. Bachelorette parties are also on the downswing, but I expect them to pick up sometime in the next couple of weeks with Valentine’s Day approaching.
I’m clocking in at work when my phone pings with a text. Assuming it’s Gabe or our friend, Quinton, I pull it from my back pocket before starting.
Beth
Want to be my plus one?
For what?
My brother’s wedding.
Shit. Myles and Tristan are getting hitched? In this town, everyone knows everything, but this is the first I’m hearing of it.
Starting work in a minute, I’ll text you later.
I almost text ‘baby’ but delete before sending. I like Beth, always have, but I’m not a fucking idiot—she doesn’t want more than a casual hookup. No matter how amazing our time together was, I can’t give in.
I’m about to pocket my phone, when another text comes in. Reluctantly, I check it, knowing it’s her.
Please?
I leave her on read and make my way to my favourite spot at reception. I tidy my area and check the events calendar. Sure enough, the Comet-Anderson wedding is scheduled…
The weekend before Valentine’s Day?
I blink twice and take a closer look. Beth’s brother and Myles are getting married in less than a month and I’m scheduled to work that day. At least I don’t have to worry about a bachelorette party.
Nope, I absolutely have to worry.
Two dudes, but one of them could absolutely book me. Though, it would be a bit awkward if it was Tristan, since I spent the majority of the holidays buried inside his sister.
I groan and put the calendar away after discreetly taking a picture of the date and time. I don’t take Myles or Tristan as men who want a stripper to celebrate their second chance romance, but I’m not betting on anything when it comes to the Anderson family.
Beth’s had me all twisted up since she left; we had fun the short weeks she was here. Almost getting caught with her pussy on my face Christmas morning is a highlight, but fucking her against a hotel balcony on New Year’s Eve while watching fireworks has to be my favorite.
Since I don’t have any guests, and won’t for at least an hour, I take out my phone and reply to her text.
Working that weekend.
Plans after the wedding?
I delete the cheesy line—‘I’ll be your Valentine’—I nearly sent, and return my attention to work.
With all the guests checked in, I clock out for the day and check my calendar.
6pm - Marissa
Shit. I completely forgot about her.
A few nights ago while out at Rusty’s, the pretty blonde and I were hitting it off. We made plans to get together tonight. I still have no idea what the hell we’re going to do, though. Dinner feels too formal, but drinks will just lead to her coming back to my place. Since she’s only in town for a few weeks, working at Donner Lumber, there’s the potential for no strings attached. Not sure what she’s up for, so we’ll start with drinks. If things are going well, we can grab an early dinner.
I rush out the door; I have just enough time to shower and change. I send her a quick text to confirm tonight and have her meet me at the bar we met. Still glancing down at my phone, I stumble into someone, nearly knocking them over. “Sorry, I wasn’t— Tristan. Hi.”
He steadies himself and takes a step back. “Hey, Axl. Bit of a hurry?”
“No, not really,” I reply, pocketing my phone. He gives me a knowing smirk, as if I’m full of shit. It’s not a lie, I’m not in a hurry. I should cancel on Marissa but it would be a bellend thing to do last minute.
“I’ll just scoot past ya, leave ya to it.” Tristan steps around me.
“Right, sorry, Tris. Congratulations on the engagement, by the way.”
He turns with a wide smile. “Thanks. Say hi to Beth for me.”
“I will.” I will? I internally facepalm. Crap, does he know about us? Is she in town? Shit. Did she tell him I’m her plus one? I blink away the thought and walk to my car.
As I’m driving home, I feel a pang of guilt that I’m seeing this Marissa woman, when I can’t get Beth out of my head. I know Beth is seeing other people, so I’m not worried what she might think of me dating. I’m mostly concerned with my date tonight and if she’s ok with casually hooking up with a man who is thinking about another woman. My bet is she’s not.
I get to my place, hop in the shower, and put on a pair of dark jeans and a black tee. I pick up the cologne. Mid-spritz, I stop myself. Last time it was used, I saw Beth, and don’t need that to taint the potential of a great date with another girl; she deserves better. After a final glance in the entryway mirror adjusting my hair, I grab my keys and head out to meet Marissa.
I park in front of Rusty’s, and take a few moments to collect myself. Tonight should be fun, and I’m a bit nervous about what to expect. I don’t remember the last time I went on a real date. With a deep breath, I exit my car.
As I enter the bar, I spot Marissa seated at one of the tables. She looks up from her phone as I approach and offers me a soft smile. While she is undoubtedly beautiful, I’m beginning to wonder how much we had to drink when we met. She’s wearing a light pink cardigan, hair pulled off her forehead with a headband, and is only missing a string of pearls to complete her ensemble. I’m more into women who wear ripped jeans, band tees, and flannels—or just Beth.
I mirror her smile. As she stands to greet me, we share an awkward hug. She tucks into my body with ease, but it’s more friendly than relationship-worthy. When we break apart, I ask, “Can I get you something to drink?”
