Chapter 1

Two Years of Almost

July pushed the apartment door open, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses drifting out of the kitchen. She had been here more times than she could count — two years’ worth of visits, dinners, lazy Sundays, movie nights. By now, Mark’s apartment felt half like her second home.

“Hey, babe!” Mark’s voice called as he appeared in the hallway, his boyish grin wide as always. He leaned in to kiss her, his brown hair falling into his eyes before he brushed it back. Mark was steady, dependable — the kind of boyfriend who remembered to carry her bag when it was heavy, who texted goodnight without fail.

But he wasn’t the only one she came here to see.

Because where there was Mark, there was Jake.

“July,” a deeper voice said from the sofa. She turned to see him lounging there, one arm thrown across the backrest, a beer dangling lazily in his other hand. His dark hair was mussed from the shower, his T-shirt stretched faintly over his broad chest, his jeans low on his hips. The sight of him was so familiar that it should have been safe. Instead, her pulse always gave the smallest skip.

“Jake,” she said warmly, smiling as she slipped off her jacket. “You’re looking almost civilized today. What happened?”

He smirked. “You’ve just caught me between gym socks on the floor. Don’t get used to it.” Mark groaned, already rummaging in the fridge. “Don’t encourage him, July. He’s unbearable enough without your help.”

“Hey, I’ve been nothing but a good influence,” Jake shot back. Then, with a pointed look at her, “She knows.”

July laughed, curling into the armchair across from him. “Oh, I know plenty. Like the time you burned an entire pack of frozen pizza because you thought the oven had a ‘turbo mode.’”

Mark laughed so hard he nearly dropped a bottle. Jake just rolled his eyes. “You tell a girl one mistake, she never lets it go.”

This was how it always was between them — cozy, teasing, as if they were longtime friends. In truth, they were. For two years, Jake had been part of her weekends, her holidays, her daily life with Mark. They had built a familiarity that should have erased anything dangerous between them.

But it hadn’t.

Because every so often, July’s gaze lingered too long. On the way, his shirt clung to his shoulders. On his lazy grin when he teased her. On his thighs when he sprawled across the couch like he owned the space.

And she knew he wasn’t blind, either. She caught the flickers in his eyes when she leaned over the table, the pauses in his voice when their laughter faded into silence, the way his smirk sometimes softened into something sharper before he turned away.

But neither of them crossed the line. They were friends. Cozy, safe, trusted. It was the only way it could be.

“Movie night?” Mark asked, carrying snacks into the living room.

Jake stretched, grabbing the remote. “You pick, July. But if you choose another crime doc, I’m out.” “Your loss,” she shot back, tucking her legs under herself. “I happen to have excellent taste.”

The three of them settled into their usual places: July curled against Mark on the sofa, Jake at the far end, stretched out, his long arm draped lazily across the backrest behind them. To anyone else, it looked perfectly normal. Innocent.

And maybe it was.

But as the night went on, July found herself laughing at Jake’s sarcastic commentary more than she should, catching his eye across the cushions one too many times, and feeling the tiniest thrill whenever his voice dropped low.

They were just friends. They would always be just friends.

At least, that was what July told herself.

Chapter 2

The Party

The apartment was alive in a way July had never seen before. Music thumped from a Bluetooth speaker on the counter, glasses clinked, and voices rose in laughter as Mark and Jake’s living room filled with friends. The sagging sofa had never held so many people, and the coffee table was buried under bottles, bowls of chips, and half-empty pizza boxes.

July leaned against the kitchen doorway, sipping from her cup, her cheeks already warm from the vodka Mark had mixed too strong. She looked good tonight, and she knew it — a fitted black top that hugged her curves, jeans snug on her hips, blonde hair loose around her shoulders. She caught her reflection in the darkened window once, flushed cheeks, bright eyes, her chest rising quickly as she laughed with a girl she barely knew.

And beneath the laughter, her body thrummed. Four days without sex — four long days of classes, assignments, late nights, stress, and falling asleep before she and Mark could even think about touching. Now, tipsy, relaxed, pressed against his side on the sofa as the party rumbled on, July’s whole body ached with impatience.

Mark had his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. He smelled faintly of cologne and beer, his grin easy, boyish as he chatted with two friends across the table. Every so often, he squeezed her thigh absentmindedly, and each time, heat darted straight between her legs.

“God,” she thought, biting her lip as she leaned into him, “I can’t wait until we’re alone.”

Jake dropped onto the sofa on the other side, a beer in hand, stretching his legs out so they brushed against hers. “You two look disgustingly couple-y tonight,” he drawled, smirking. “Should I give you the room?”

July rolled her eyes, though her cheeks warmed further. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’d probably just lurk and complain about the noise.”

Jake chuckled, tilting his bottle toward her. “Fair. Still, I should get hazard pay for being Mark’s roommate.”

Mark laughed, bumping his shoulder against July’s. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous.”

“Jealous?”Jake raised a brow, amused. “Of what? Watching you two sneak off at every party?”

July choked on her drink, smacking Mark’s arm when he laughed harder. “We do not sneak off.”

“You don’t?” Jake asked, his grin lazy, his gaze steady on her in a way that made her shift in her seat. “Guess I imagined it, then.”

Her pulse quickened, and she forced herself to sip her drink again. He was teasing. That was all. It was always like this — comfortable, playful, harmless. And yet, with her body already restless and aching for Mark’s touch, Jake’s words landed heavier than they should have.

Hours blurred. People drifted in and out, some leaving early, others sprawled on the floor, tipsy and laughing at nothing. July found herself laughing too loudly, dancing in the kitchen with Mark to a song she half-recognized, Jake watching from the counter with his beer, shaking his head.

“Don’t quit your day jobs,” he called when Mark spun her clumsily, making her stumble against the cabinets.

July laughed breathlessly, leaning into Mark, her chest pressed against him. God, she needed him. She could feel it in every nerve of her body, the alcohol thinning the barrier between want and need. Mark’s grin promised he knew it, too, his hand tightening at her waist, his lips brushing her temple.

By the time the last guests trickled out, the apartment was a wreck — bottles everywhere, crumbs scattered, music still thumping low from the speaker. Jake leaned against the door, saying goodnight to the final pair as they stumbled down the hall, his grin tired but still amused.

He shut the door with a soft thud, stretching as he turned back to them. “Well,” he said, glancing between them, “Looks like I’m officially outnumbered by two horny lovebirds.”

July flushed, glaring. “Jake!”

He smirked, shrugging. “What? Don’t pretend you’re not counting the minutes until I disappear.” He walked past them, clapping Mark on the shoulder. “Don’t keep her waiting too long, man. She’s got that look.”

Mark laughed awkwardly, muttering something about Jake being an ass. July, on the other hand, bit her lip hard, heat rising to her face and lower, because Jake wasn’t wrong. She did have that look. And she could feel it in every restless inch of her body.

The apartment fell quiet as Jake disappeared down the hall. July leaned into Mark, her lips brushing his ear. “Finally,” she whispered, her voice low, urgent. “I need you.”

Chapter 3

The Wrong Room

The apartment was finally quiet. Music silenced, bottles cleared away into the kitchen, laughter long faded into the night. July closed the bathroom door softly behind her, leaning against it for a moment as she steadied herself.

She was flushed from alcohol and the heat of the party, her blonde hair sticking slightly to her neck, her lips tingling from too many sips of vodka mixed far too strong. But more than that, she was aching. Four long days without sex, four days of assignments and stress, of falling asleep exhausted in Mark’s arms before either of them could touch. The anticipation that had built all night was now a fire low in her belly, hot and insistent.

She splashed water on her face, smoothing her hair, studying her reflection in the dim mirror. Her pupils were wide, her cheeks pink, her top slipping slightly from one shoulder. She looked good — better than she felt she had any right to after hours of drinking. She bit her lip, smiling faintly. He’s not going to know what hit him.

Out in the living room, Mark stumbled tiredly down the hall, too tipsy to do more than push open the first bedroom door. He collapsed face-first onto the mattress, still half-dressed, shoes kicked somewhere near the bed. His breath slowed almost instantly, sleep dragging him under before he even pulled the blanket over his shoulders.

Jake, still lingering in the kitchen with his last beer, shook his head when he peeked into the hall. He spotted Mark already sprawled across his bed, dead to the world. With a low chuckle, Jake set his drink aside, pulled off his shirt, then shoved his jeans down, leaving only his boxer shorts. “Guess I’m not sleeping in there tonight,” he muttered to himself.

He padded into Mark’s room instead, stretching out across the other mattress. The sheets were cool against his skin, the faint scent of detergent and Mark’s cologne mixing in the air. He folded his arms behind his head, closing his eyes, his breathing steadying as he drifted toward sleep.

July, meanwhile, stepped out of the bathroom, her heart quickening with every step down the hall. The apartment was still now, heavy with the silence that comes after a party. She pushed open the door to Mark’s room, smiling faintly when she saw the outline of a body stretched across the bed in the dark.

The silhouette was broad in the shadows, but July’s mind didn’t linger on it. She only felt a rush of heat, a surge of anticipation. Finally.

She closed the door softly behind her, biting her lip. Her hands slid to the hem of her top, pulling it up and over her head, her blonde hair falling loose around her shoulders. She shimmied out of her jeans, tossing them onto a chair, then unclipped her bra with practiced ease, her heavy breasts falling free. Her panties were the last to go, slipped down her thighs, and left in a small heap near her jeans.

Naked, flushed, trembling with both nerves and arousal, July moved toward the bed. The faint glow of the streetlight through the blinds cut across his body — strong chest, shoulders rising and falling in a slow rhythm, the faint glint of skin above the waistband of boxer shorts.

She smiled naughtily, her heart pounding. He has no idea what’s about to happen.

Sliding under the blanket, she pressed herself close to the warmth of his body, her arm draping across his chest. She buried her face into his neck, inhaling the heat of him, her lips brushing his skin in a teasing kiss. Her hand trailed lower, skimming across his stomach.

She didn’t notice the difference yet. She didn’t question the breadth of his chest or the way his body felt beneath her. All she felt was relief, hunger, the dizzy thrill of finally having what she’d been craving for days.

And in the dark, Jake stirred faintly, half-asleep, unaware that the girl curling into him wasn’t his best friend’s dream, but his best friend’s girlfriend.

Chapter 4

The Edge of a Mistake

The room was dark, the faint orange glow from the streetlamp outside cutting across the bed in thin stripes. July slid closer beneath the blanket, her body humming with need, her blonde hair brushing against his chest as she pressed her lips softly to his skin. The faint salt of sweat, the heat radiating off him — it made her dizzy.

“God, I’ve missed this,” she whispered, her lips brushing his neck. She kissed him again, this time lingering, her tongue flicking against his throat before she trailed higher to his lips. His mouth was warm and still, pliant under hers, his breathing heavy but not resistant.

July moaned faintly, grinding her body against him, her breasts pressing into his chest as her nipples hardened with aching need. Her hand slipped down across his stomach, feeling the ridges of muscle beneath, until she brushed against the waistband of his boxers.

“You have no idea how wet I am for you,” she whispered against his ear, her voice thick, needy. “Four days without you inside me… you’re not allowed to let me wait like that again.”

Her hand slid under the elastic, pushing it down. She gasped softly when her fingers brushed the hard length beneath. He was already thick and heavy in her palm, so ready it made her lips part in relief. Finally.

Her panties were already gone, discarded in the dark. She tugged his boxers down just enough to free him, her hand curling around him. He was hot, swollen, pulsing against her grip. Her head spun with impatience, with hunger.

“Too hard to tease you tonight,” she breathed, kissing his jaw, her voice filthy and raw. “I just need you to fuck me. Right now.”

She shifted, pushing herself up. Her knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his hips, her blonde hair falling around her flushed face. Her full breasts bounced lightly as she leaned forward, guiding him into place.

Her hand wrapped around his cock, and she froze for half a second. He felt different — thicker, heavier, the head broad against her slick entrance. But the alcohol blurred the thought before it could form. She was too wet, too needy, her clit throbbing with urgency. She bit her lip hard, lowering her hips slightly until the swollen tip grazed her folds.

“God, I need you so bad,” she whispered to him, to whom she thought was Mark. She rubbed herself slowly along his shaft, her slickness coating him, teasing her clit against his thickness. Sparks shot through her body, her thighs trembling.

He stirred faintly, shifting beneath her, but no words came. His chest rose and fell, his breath uneven, but not stopping her.

July whimpered, rolling her hips in slow circles, dragging her pussy along the length of his cock. He was so thick, her swollen folds parting as she rubbed herself on him. Each movement sent shivers through her body, made her breasts bounce softly, made her breath catch in little gasps.

“God, you feel huge tonight,” she moaned, not realizing what the words meant. “I can’t wait anymore…” Her slick folds kissed the head again, pressing down, parting slightly, her entrance already stretching. She shuddered at the feel, hovering just above him, her body begging to sink down and take him inside. Too horny to stop. Too drunk to notice the difference. Too close to realize this wasn’t Mark at all.

And in the shadows, Jake’s cock throbbed harder beneath her, seconds away from a mistake that would ruin everything.

Chapter 5

Impaled

The room was still, heavy with silence, broken only by July’s ragged breathing. Her thighs trembled as she hovered above him, the thick head of his cock pressing insistently at her entrance. She was soaked, her folds slick and swollen, her clit throbbing with desperate need.

Slowly, she lowered herself.

The tip slid past her folds, stretching her immediately, and she gasped, clutching at the sheet beside his shoulders. Her blonde hair spilled forward, her full breasts swaying as her body yielded around the first inches of him.

“Oh my God…” The words slipped out before she could stop them. She froze halfway, her pussy gripping him tightly, her body moaning for her. He was thicker, heavier, filling her in a way that made her stomach flutter, and her toes curl. “You’re so… big.”

Her voice was a mix of astonishment and filthy delight, her hips rolling slightly as if testing the stretch. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to keep going, to take more. She moaned louder, her eyes squeezing shut, her nails digging into the sheet.

“God, I’ve missed this,” she panted, lowering herself further. Her slick walls dragged over the thick length, each inch making her tremble harder. She whimpered at the overwhelming fullness, the obscene stretch that bordered on too much but felt unbearably good.

And then, with a slow, desperate push, she sank all the way down.

Her ass met his hips, her thighs quivering as his cock bottomed out inside her, stretching her to the limit. A raw cry tore from her throat, loud and uncontrolled, echoing in the dark room. Her body shook, her breasts bouncing as she clutched herself upright. “Oh fuck, you’re so deep… so huge…”

Beneath her, he stirred fully awake, his breath catching as her walls pulsed around him. His hands came up without hesitation, gripping her ass firmly, kneading the soft flesh in his large palms. His fingers dug into her skin, holding her tight against him, making sure she couldn’t pull away even if she wanted to.

July’s head fell back, her blonde hair spilling down her spine, her lips parting on a trembling moan. She was too drunk, too horny, too lost in the sensation to question why it felt so different, so overwhelming. She was convinced it was Mark, convinced her boyfriend had simply given her the fuck she’d been craving.

But it wasn’t Mark. It was Jake.

And July was clueless that this mistake — this moment of her kneeling, impaled on his huge, fat cock, her pussy stretched wider than she had ever known — would change her life.

She rocked her hips slightly, moaning again, her hands braced on his chest. “God… you’re so much bigger than I remembered…”

Jake’s hands squeezed her ass harder, his silence saying everything. He was awake now. Awake, hard, and buried to the hilt inside his best friend’s girlfriend.

And July, trembling and amazed, was too far gone to stop.