Chapter 1
Lyla picked up the phone on the third ring, balancing the device between her ear and her shoulders, as she stood in the kitchen. "Yeah? What's up?"
"Hey, babe." Lyla nearly giggled to herself. Till today, she hadn't exactly gotten over the fact that puberty had pushed her best friend up six inches her height, and added gravels to his voice. It wasn't like three years ago, in their first year, when he'd stand two inches taller than her, and when he spoke, she had to remind herself she was speaking to her agemate, not someone younger than her. How time flies, she thought to herself with a wry smile.
"Hey, yourself. So? Don't keep me in suspense, E. Did you get it?" She asked as she stood on tiptoe to scurry out the spices to be used in the day's meal. One drop, two, three...she paused as she assessed the meal. Maybe she'd gone a little too far with the salt...oh well, she shrugged.
The voice on the other end was quiet for a while, that Lyla had to check to make sure the connection was still there. "Hell yeah," he finally replied, and she heard the blooming smile on his face. She could just imagine him sprawling on the floor, with his trademark white tank top he nearly always sported since filling out his abs — Lyla could swear he knew what he was doing; his dark hair wet and curled, a black chain around his wide shoulders and blank pants pulled snuggly against his tight butt cheeks...
Oh hell no, Lyla thought, her cheeks flushing. There was no way she was going to cross that boundary where her best friend was concerned.
"Wait, seriously?" Lyla asked, excited. "You're not kidding? You actually got the house? I thought you said it'd be too expensive."
"Yeah, well, Dylan and Matt pulled their resources and got their old guys to help out as well. So, you're looking at Ethan Carrey, a newly independent fish away from home." He said and chuckled in that deep baritone. Lyla rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. Ever since their second year, Ethan had kept her up to date about his decision and plans to move away from home, citing just one reason:
"How the hell am I supposed to fuck the chick I want as hard as I'd like when I'm stuck in my parents beaten-down house? My old folks be hearing her cum all the way from the living room. Hell no. I don't need all that hassle. When I fuck her, I want to sure she screams for days, that my name is the only damn thing she remembers afterwards."
"Don't get too cocky on me, young man, just because you finally got a house. It's still your old man's dime on the contract" She tutted, her hands on her hips as though she was reprimanding him ohysuca.
Ethan chuckled. "You know I don't fault you for that, babe. You're a pretty broad. Honestly, it's even better you're living with your parents. You don't need all that many guys staring at you, wondering how it'll feel to stick their cock into your pants."
Lyla laughed. Ethan's crude words never really shocked her as they did her friends when they'd heard him once; she'd been so used to him over time and imagined they were close enough for him to say things an older brother would say — and it was only fair for him to worry about other guys hitting on her because she'd never had shortage of guys lining up, and heaven knows, she'd also said and joked crudely to him as well.
"Uh-huh. I bet you're way more concerned about my chastity than about yours. Hey, by the way, how many months down is it?"
"It grew four inches longer this past September." Ethan drawled, his baritone husky.
"Huh?" Then..."ewww! You disgusting pervert! I'm talking about the house not your oversized dick," she cringed even as she laughed.
"It sounds hella sexy from your lips." Ethan quietly chuckled as well, and for some reason, that brought a flush to her cheeks. Sometimes Ethan loved crossing the line, and as much as she loved and tolerated him, she wondered where the boundary for certain kind of conversations really was.
"Of course, it does. I'm a hell of a girl. So?" She asked drawing his attention back to her earlier question.
Ethan was quiet for a while before he abruptly asked, "Why don't you come over yourself and check it out?"
"Wait. Like right now?" Lyla asked as she stirred the meal. She shifted away from the pot to open the windows when the heat combined with the spices got a lil too much for her. And Ethan wasn't really helping matters acting all wild. Sometimes she'd really love to break a pot over his head.
"Uh, yeah, of course. Why, you got something better to do?" He asked roughly and a little rudely.
Lyla placed the lid gingerly on top of the pot, to let it simmer and cook properly. "Nah, not really. Just cooking. Tell you what, when I'm done cooking, I'm going to head out to your place. It's still that building by the water fall right?"
"Was there any other option I had in mind?" Ethan asked and Lyla could imagine him rolling his eyes at her.
"Hey, just checking. See ya later, E. Gotta go." Lyla said.
"Yeah — bye..."
Ethan held onto the phone even after she had dropped the call, his mind conjuring images of his best friend. She was such a pretty little thing it was hard to focus on pretty much anything else when she was around him. He'd read that at a particular age, men's emotions were driven primarily by lust— he chuckled darkly. Well, nothing he could really do about that...
Lyla knocked gingerly on the door, bouncing on her toes, already very eager. The house was as it had always been; it wasn't a bonafide mansion like some of the others she'd seen, neither was it such a cozy house. It was rather small and maybe unimpressive — but hey, a guy had to start somewhere. As Ethan had always told her, he didn't need a big house to impress his bevy of females, all he needed was his ricochet smile, his toned abs that Lyla bet would get him featured on a Playboy's magazine one day, and his come-hither personality. "Would you look?" He'd asked when Lyla had mentioned the Playboy magazine. "If I had my naked body on display on pages, would you look?"
She grinned instead. "I get enough distraction from Drew already," then she'd smacked his shoulder, "but don't worry, sport. I'm sure you'll win the hearts of America's horniest and hottest even without me peering at the pages."
She heard footsteps approach the door and stop, and a grin nearly split her face into two. One latch, two latch, three latch — her smile faded. Seriously? All that for some rusty rundown house?
Then the door swung open, and Ethan stood there, leaning against the door way. It was just as she'd imagined earlier. She still couldn't get over her awe when she saw him physically; he stood 6'4, with dark mussy wet curls over his face. His face had grown leaner in the past months since he'd been hitting the gym, and his piercing blue eyes were still the same. He wore a white tank top and slow slung dark jeans with chains strapped on his wrists and around his neck.
He grinned. "Hey, 'sup" he drawled, raking his gaze over her.
"Hey," Lyla replied, a grin still on her face. Then she rolled her eyes at him and shoved him by the shoulders, making both of them break into fits of laughter.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulder as they walked inside. "Come on," he shut the door.
Lyla looked around the house. It was just as she thought it would be; she could see that Matt, Dylan and Ethan had already started to mark their territories around the house. It was a little small but it seemed comfortable enough to for three young men.
There were CDs and a guitar slung on the floor, close to the couch — ABBA, Celine Dion... personal favorites of Dylan
And comic books and graphic tees littered on the table — no doubt belonged to Matt.
Ethan grumbled. "Bunch of pigs," he said as he picked up the comic books and tossed them aside, out of view, and did the same to the CDs and guitar. Then he turned to her and shrugged his wide shoulders, stuffing his hands into his pocket. "Yeah, I forgot to mention earlier that I house with a bunch of pigs."
"Is that the pizza guy?" Lyla heard Matt's voice before he made himself known.
Matt dashed into the living room, wearing nothing but his pants. Matt was a incredibly tall, even taller than Ethan with two inches, and had a slim build. He normally wore his light brown hair in a crop above his head, but this year, he made the wild decision of shaving it off entirely.
It certainly didn't distract from his dark brown eyes or his finely structured face; but Matt would swear that he'd never had a girlfriend nor was he interested in one. He considered himself a scholar who wouldn't be caught dead wasting his time chasing girls — even though the highest grade he'd ever gotten was a C.
"Lyla!" He boomed when he saw her and rushed to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up. Lyla laughed against his shoulder. "Yo!"
Ethan slapped his arm. "That's enough now, put her down. I don't want her choking on your smelly ass the first time she gets here,"
Matt laughed but dropped her down slowly. "Ethan here told us you were coming, but the idiot forgot to mention which time you'd be here."
"Because it's none of your business," Ethan snapped but Matt ignored him;
"Wow. New look and everything," he touched her golden-brain hair, "you even had your hair curled and you smell of sweet berries. Drew's definitely been caring for you..." then he winked, "or was it just your excitement to see Ethan?"
Lyla laughed, maybe a little too loudly. "Looking this good and sexy never hurt anyone, did it?"
"Damn straight." Matt smiled warmly at her,then yawned. "Sorry. Force of habit. I've just been starving. And God forbid anyone ever looks after you in this house. Yo, Ethan, where does the pizza guy get here?"
Matt looked at Ethan, to see that he had narrowed his eyes at him. Matt raised his brow wondering why Ethan's behavior was so foul all of a sudden, but his growling stomach had him wearing a matching glare against Ethan.
"Do I look like a fucking clock? Hell, Matt, I don't fucking know. You're hungry? Go outside and eat some sand, you're giving the rest of us a reason to want to eat your brains out."
Instead of Matt to retaliate, he just simply turned to Lyla. "See? Nobody cares. I think Ethan here is just so horny. We've been packed with clearing the house for the past week since we got it, and it's obvious the no-sex thing has really taken a toll on him."
Lyla turned to stare up at Ethan who was glaring fiercely at Matt. "I don't know. Mr Casanova here seems to need the lesson. Trust me, no one knows how easy Ethan goes through woman as much as I do. Serves him right."
Ethan laughed and held her against him tighter. "That's only because all of them can't stand to be away from me."
"What exactly can't they stand? Your oversized ego or your oversized dick?" Lyla teased and Ethan smiled, looking down at her with warm eyes.
"Smartass," he said fondly.
"Jerk," Lyla replied and both of them chuckled.
Matt turned away from both of them and walked towards the door to peer behind it. He sighed dismally.
"Ah, fuck it. I'm too tired to hang around till it gets here. Ethan, keys?" He asked.
"What, you're leaving?" Lyla asked as Matt wore a shirt over his head, bouncing off the rough and hurried contact.
"Yeah, the longer I stay here, the more likely I'll be dead before the next minute. I'm starving. Ethan, the keys."
"I don't know, you used his car last."
"You can't —" Matt breathed slowly and stomped over to the table, then he stopped. "Wait, where's the mail that was on the table? The keys. The fucking keys were on top of them. Dude!"
Ethan simply shrugged as he lowered himself on the couch. "Hey, as far as Dylan knows, you used his car and misplaced his keys. Maybe'll that teach you not to spread your shit around."
"You fucking piece of—" Matt stopped and breathed deeply. "For God's sake. Dylan's gonna kill me, shit... where're the fucking keys?"
Ethan met Lyla's eyes and she tilted her head towards Matt with a pleading look on her face. Ethan rolled his eyes and got up from the couch and walked over to the old television on the table and picked up the keys from behind the old set. "Here. Take. Get lost."
"You hid the fucking key behind the television? Were you trying to make Dylan kill me or something?"
"You got your key, didn't you? Go get some food before you meet your death. Go on, go." Ethan said tiredly.
"You're gonna die, Carrey. Thanks, Ricci. I love you." Matt said, grabbing his jacket and slamming out the door.
Lyla met Ethan's eyes and raised her eyebrows. "Well."
Ethan flopped back on the couch, sighing deeply. "Ah. Don't let it get to you. Things like that never escalate beyond a bloody punch here and there,"
Lyla sat next to him, leaning into him. "Looks like you enjoy that a little too much."
Ethan turned to her, his blue eyes shimmering. "You know what I bet you'd enjoy?"
"What?"
"Come on. Up you go. We gotta give you a tour. Come on."
Lyla laughed and took his hand when the next inhabitant sauntered in.
Dylan was a fit ( a little bit on the big side) guy with shaggy brown hair, b shrewd eyes and a face that reminded her of a hawk. Hooked, aquiline — harsh features. She supposed if she looked at him in a certain light, he could almost be considered hot enough or sexy. And Dylan certainly knew how to pull girls, and the fact that he aspired to be a punk superstar and knew how to finger a guitar extremely well didn't hurt his reputation either.
He was dressed only in black tight pants, and Lyla struggled not to stare. What was it with Ethan and the others insisting on exposing their hairless chest for her to stare at? Tacky much?
He eyed both of them and drawled. "What's with all that noise?"
"Hey, Dylan." Lyla greeted with a hand raised.
Dylan drawled as he opened a bottle of water, his brown eyes never straying away from hers even when he leaned his head back. "Ricci. You're dating my friend, Drew, right? What are you doing here?"
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "The fuck? Are you trying to play dumb, D, I told you and Matt she'd be coming."
Dylan shrugged. "Short memory span, besides, the way you talked about her — I figured you were talking about some other hot chick to fuck."
"Fuck you, D." Ethan said barely containing his ire, but Dylan ignored him.
"Ethan's giving me a tour of the house." Lyla said. "I heard you guys finally put the down payment and I was eager to see your new humble abode." she teased wagging her eyebrows.
Dylan rolled his eyes with a groan. "Ugh. Yeah I see why you get along with this one. She's a little on the freaky side. Whatever," he glanced around. "Fuck is wrong with you, Ethan?" He growled as he stormed over and jacked his guitar off the floor. "How many times have I warned you against touching my shit? Your motherfucking clumsy self could have broken my guitar!"
"If I'm having a fucking guest, Dylan, I expect you to tidy up your shit. If you don't want me touching it." Ethan replied just as heated.
"Yeah, well, next time use better adjectives than 'hot' and 'sexy'. Hot and sexy girls don't mind a little bit of mess, do they?"
"I don't." Lyla piped up.
"Shut up, Lyla." Ethan said his voice returning to normal.
"Whatever, I'm too tired to kick your ass right now. Where's my keys?"
Ethan smirked. "Matt had to borrow it. Food emergency."
"Ugh. That motherfucker better not scratch the paint again or else it's his face I'll be scratching." He walked over to the door and wore his jacket. Then he turned to both of them. "Y'all have the house to yourself. I got to step out for a sec."
"Oh yeah? Julies finally called?" Ethan asked, smirking.
"Shut the fuck up, Ethan." Dylan said, but his voice was casual. "You're the one hoping to fuck it out with the chick you want, your balls' been blue since we moved. Anyway," he yawned as Ethan glared at him. "Don't stay up to late. I'm heading out. Uh...Ricci, want anything while I'm gone?"
Lyla opened her mouth but Ethan beat her to it. "She's fine."
Dylan smirked and chuckled. "Well, well. Alright, then, I'm off. If anything happens, you know how to reach me." And then he walked out.
"Finally," Ethan exhaled while Lyla chuckled. "We're alone now," he took her hands and began swinging it between them. "So? Wanna see a tour?"
Warning: this next scene may include scenes that may be a teensy tiny uncomfortable for readers, my bad!, you can choose to skip it. Or don't. Who knows?
Ethan was a surprisingly attentive and educative host as he took her around the house, pointing out the bedrooms, the kitchens, the backyard and the lake beyond the house ( they were charged extra for that. Dylan threw a fit) and Lyla was vocally impressed by the fact that he knew about the history of the house and even it's past owners.
Lyla missed this part of him. The part that didn't fixate too much on sex, alcohol, and how many girls noticed how hot he looked. He used to be like this in the past, before he attained peak puberty and opened his eyes to shitty films and graphic novels. She remembered those nights she'd crawl into his bedroom, while his Mom made the rounds downstairs, and both of them would stay up all night reading literature books or just talking....
Ethan surprised her by propping her up on the cabinet, her feet dangling below her, and grinned at her. His forearms on either side of her, his face now level with hers. "Well, that's the end of the tour. So," he smirked, "was I a good host or what?"
Lyla smiled, trying to ignore how hard her heart was beating. "You were passable, but you could always bribe me with snacks and I could up the grade."
Ethan chuckled deeply, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Lyla froze as she felt his hot breath on her neck, teasing her, making the sensitive hairs on her neck stand on edge. "You smell so fucking good," she heard him murmur.
She tried to make some sort of joke, but realized she didn't know what to say. Why the hell was she feeling awkward? She chastised herself angrily, this was Ethan Carrey—her fucking best friend since middle school! They'd slept on the same bed, ate from the same food, hugged each other — countless of times! It was absurd that she should feel awkward beneath him.
Both of them were still. Ethan's face still buried into her neck, and Lyla trying to ignore everything her brain was screaming at her and instead focused on stroking his messy curls, her eyes gazing outside.
"I'd like to make you feel good." Ethan said in a whispery drawl, breaking the silence.
"What?" Lyla grinned, raising an eyebrow, "by watching a movie?"
"No. By fingering you."
Lyla froze, her heart pounding, as those words settled into her ears. Slowly, really slowly, Ethan's wet lips began to skim her neck, leaving wet trails of kisses. He slowly raised his head to gaze into her shocked eyes, and without taking his eyes off hers, lowered his head once more to kiss her neck — this time slowly and deliberating, breathing deeply as he did to inhale her scent.
Lyla finally came to her senses, and it felt like she had been dropped from the top of a building without any preparation or safety harness. The impact was swift and brutal, and had her reeling. "....What?" She whispered in shock.
Ethan raised his head slowly, his forearms still on either side of her, a lazy almost satisfied smile on his face. He raised a hand and ran a thumb over her plump lip, his eyes following the motion. "Damn, and I thought my hints were fucking obvious."
No. No. Not Ethan. Oh, God, not him. Not her. Not right now, not today.
Between her fits of panic, his words reached her and she pulled away from him with a frown on her face, their proximity startling. "Hints?"
Ethan shrugged. "Thought I was being very clear from the start. It was obvious to everyone — except maybe you. .." he paused and stared at her. "Do you know how often I've dreamed of fucking you? How hard I've had to restrain myself each time I see you? My cock pounding into your sweet tight pussy. Your wet cum smearing all over my dick. Your sexy voice screaming my name until it cracks, me drinking your cum and finger fucking you into oblivion."
Lyla blinked, horrified as his words settled into her knowledge. Ethan...?
"Ethan...." The words that she wanted to say got caught in her throat as disbelief washed over her insides.
"Ah, fuck it," Ethan grabbed her hand and placed it on his overly hard, eager and straining dick. His eyes drifted close in bliss at the contact and he moaned slightly. "See how fucking hard I am because of you?" Then suddenly, he abruptly yanked her thighs apart, ignoring her startled gasp, as he nestled between her thighs, panting as he ground into her. Their clothes creating a sweet barrier of friction. "Do you feel it now, Lyla? Do you feel what you fucking do to me, my sweet Lyla? Do you feel how badly I want to fuck you?"
Lyla gripped his shoulders, attempting to pry him away from him, her startled gasps sounding intimately familiar to ecstatic moans. "Stop...please..."
"Feel it, my Lyla! Fucking feel what you do to me! Feel it!" Ethan growled harshly, panting even harder as he thrusted against her now throbbing and sensitive core.
Despite herself, Lyla began to moan softly. Her body at war with her mind; she wanted to push him away, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to his erratic movements. Finally, she summoned her might and shoved him away from her, fear etched on her face. "No! No, Ethan!"
He stumbled away from her, and whirled to her, his eyes ablaze. He chuckled darkly. "You think that's gonna stop me after waiting years to get you into my laps?"
Lyla closed her legs and shot out a trembling hand to ward him off. "S—stay away from me...."
But there was a predatory look on his face as he walked towards her, slowly, with a leering smile on his face. "What? You just got a guy bricked up and you're not even gonna let him fucking touch you? Not gonna go on your fucking knees and suck him up? Give him some relief?"
"Stay away..." Her words stumbled over each other in her growing dread and panic as he continued approaching her, wetting his lips as he roamed his eyes over her wet-sheen body.
"Now why the fuck would I want to do that, huh?" He asked, almost spitefully. "My dick's already begging for your attention, has been for some time. Either with your pussy or with your mouth, it doesn't really care. Just come for me, Lyla."
Lyla's slower lip began to tremble, terrified. Ethan saw her expression and something softened in his features. Fuck, what he wouldn't do to go over to her and grip her hips, tearing her pants aside as he sink into her tight pussy. He groaned just thinking about it, but he restrained himself. Her dark eyes were wide with horror and tears, he sighed.
"Don't look at me like that, Lyla. I'm not going to hurt you. You don't have anything to fear when you're with me," he said softly, approaching her steadily.
Lyla quickly dropped off the cabinet, afraid of being disadvantaged against her sex-crazed best friend...best friend? Or stranger? Had she ever really known him? She knew he could be feral about pursuing his interests, but she never knew he could hurt her as much as he did.
Ethan stopped few feet from her, staring down at her. "Why're you acting this way?" He asked, his voice almost pleading. "You know I'd never hurt you."
Lyla took a step back from him. "Never?" she repeated, her voice hoarse and harsh with unshed sobs and anger. "What do you call what you did to me just now?"
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Oh, hell. Don't be like that. I fucking told you what I wanted before I made my moves. You weren't blind-sided,"
Hot, blinding anger made her breath shallow as she stared up at him. "You think that was you giving me a choice?!" she screamed hoarsely.
Ethan stuffed his hands into his pockets and shrugged with a shoulder. "Maybe not. But I've kept my feelings away from you for so long I'm not hiding it again. Hate me if you want, Lyla, but that's the fact. We both know we're not walking away from this,"
Lyla covered her face with her hands, her breath ragged. "That's what I don't understand. Why the hell would you do something like this?"
Ethan simply scoffed. "Why? Why?!" He nearly walked over to her to shake sense into her but he settled for where he stood. "You think it was easy all this time not to pretend that I didn't want you? You think everyday was easy for me to pretend like we're just friends? That I didn't want to kill every guy who'd ever asked you out? That I don't torture myself at night thinking about which man's dick is inside you? That each time, I fantasized dragging you into my bed myself and fuck you from sundown to sunrise?"
Lyla breathed harshly as she glared at him. "Why are you telling me this now if you've always had feelings for me since the first year?"
"Hell, I knew I wasn't man enough to pursue you then." Ethan snapped harshly, "You think I did all this" — he gestured to his body — "because I wanted to fuck some girl? No, Lyla. I did all this because I knew it'd make me more attractive to you. Because I imagined you coming onto me, your pussy on display, begging me to fuck you dry. And I knew I was no match for Drew. But now, what the hell? We graduate next year. Why the hell should I pretend I don't fucking want you and let the opportunity slip by?"
Lyla turned away from him, tears now streaming down her face. "So, what, you're just going to ruin our friendship for ten minutes of fun?"
"Ten minutes of fun? You think that's all I want? I fucking want you, Lyla. All of you. Not just your pussy on my cock, but you in my fucking bed, every single day. Do you know how hard it was to pretend all u saw in you was a friend for the past three years?" Ethan asked.
Lyla shook her head, moving further away from him. "No. Just no. No, Ethan."
"I'm not a kid anymore," Ethan called after her, "and who gives a fuck about our friendship? We're mature adults who can figure it out. Besides, isn't it lucky I'm telling you now? We've only got a year left. At least if there's a friendship to be ruined, it's only next year. I know you want me, Lyla"
"I have a boyfriend, Ethan!" Lyla whirled to him, screaming. "You can't just...just...!"
"He's fucking dead, Lyla! Because you're mine! You're fucking MINE!"
Both of them were still as the last notes rang out. Ethan breathing harshly, Lyla staring up at him in shock and horror.
Then she shook her head and simply said, numbly. "Stay away from me, Ethan..."
"Lyla," Ethan said in a warning tone
But she simply opened the door, almost lifelessly. "Please," and walked out.
Sooo this is kinda my first time attempting to write smut so please for the love of God, don't be brutal *
Also i know Ethan's kind of a dick right now, and I totally agree with you that he deserves to die and rot and perish. Teehee.
