If we’re being honest, I knew when I invited you to the cabin for a girls’ weekend that it was a bad idea. Well, not bad. But… dangerous. Loaded. Treacherous, maybe.

We’ve been friends for forever. Since we both worked at that marketing firm in Chicago. You didn’t get weird when I told you I was bi… in fact it seemed to make you even more comfortable with me, even if we never investigated why that might be the case. 

I was with Leah when we met, you were single and dating around. By the time Leah and I split up, you’d met Adam and were on the way to being engaged, then married.

So we’ve never been single at the same time, but that has never stopped us from… being us. We flirt.

There’s just a physical chemistry that I’ve never been able to explain. When we’re together, we’re like magnets. We’re always touching somehow or another, regardless of who else is around.

But over the last year or so the flirting has become more brazen. Where it used to be under the surface, now it’s been boiling over, something we can’t help but acknowledge happens between us.

So yeah, maybe I should’ve known that a long weekend alone was going to be a field full of land mines, but maybe I just didn’t care anymore whether anything exploded.

--

When I pulled up, you had already arrived and were unloading bags from the back of your SUV. As usual, my first thought was how sexy you looked. Your hair was down, the grey streaks glinting in the evening sun. The dimples that appeared when you smiled at me made my stomach do something I couldn’t quite name.

“You made it!” you said as I stepped out of the car and made my way to you. You pulled me in for a tight hug. I tried to pull back after a couple of seconds, but you weren’t having it.

“God, you smell so good,” you said into my hair, and I felt my body tense up. This weekend was such a bad idea. I knew you were going to flirt with me every chance that you had, and I knew that I would never stop it.

But I also knew that it couldn’t lead anywhere. Neither of us would ever cross a line.

Adam had noticed our connection. Well, to be fair, everyone either of us has dated since we met has commented on our chemistry. Some were jealous. At least Adam didn’t get bitter or try to say that you shouldn’t hang out with me.

I wasn’t going to disrespect him or your relationship by letting things go too far. But, God, did it feel good to see how tightly we could press up against that line without crossing it.

“You always say that,” I laughed, stepping back from you and grabbing one of your bags.

“Well, you always do,” you quipped. “I’m obsessed with your shampoo.”

You paused, cupping my cheek in your hand for just a moment. “Seriously, Maya. It’s so good to see you.”

“Yeah, same,” I replied. “It’s been too long. You look great,” I said, letting my eyes roam slowly down your body. “Clearly you’re still hitting the gym regularly.”

You grinned at me, and I could tell you were happy that I had returned your flirtatious volley.

I could’ve spent hours talking about all the things I love about your body. You’re always telling me how you think you need to lose weight, but honestly your curves are what make you so goddamn sexy. I can’t stop thinking about getting my hands on your soft hips, pulling them harder while you grind… nope, nope, nope. Not going there right now.

I snapped out of it, pulling my own bag from my back seat and heading toward the cabin.

Nestled in the Great Smoky Mountains, the cabin was just a few minutes from Gatlinburg, but we had no plans to visit the tourist attractions. A weekend tucked away alone relaxing was all that was in the plans.

I unlocked the cabin door with the passcode from the VRBO host, and we hauled in our bags. You had already stopped for groceries, which we unloaded in the kitchen.

“I also have this!” you grinned, pulling the bottle of vodka from a brown paper bag, before sitting it on the counter next to a case of club soda and a bag of limes.

“Oh, so it’s going to be THAT kind of weekend?” I ask, stepping closer to you, my fingers sliding over yours as I take the bottle.

“Yep,” you said, not breaking eye contact, not acknowledging my obvious breach into your personal space.

“Right then,” I replied, stepping back to open cabinets until I found two shot glasses. I opened the bottle and poured two shots, nodding at the bag of limes. You found a knife and cut one into wedges, handing me one as I slid one of the shot glasses down the counter to you.

“Well, we’d better get things off to the right kind of start,” I said, picking up my glass.

“Exactly what I was hoping for,” you replied with a wink, clinking your glass against mine before downing your shot, your eyes barely leaving mine.

“I think the last time we did shots together was that time we met up in Nashville, before we went to that random ass Christmas-themed karaoke bar,” I said, remembering with a smile.

“That place was wild. It was so crowded and we all left smelling like cigarette smoke, but I had the best time!”

“I think maybe you had the best time because you spent the whole night in my lap,” I threw out before following suit, the vodka burning on the way down. I sucked the lime wedge, then wiped my mouth.

“You’re a menace, you know that, Rach?” I asked.

“Yep, I’m well aware!” you replied, stepping in closer than necessary before taking the lime wedge and tossing it to the side. You stayed there, too close for a few more seconds. I let my hand slip to your waist, felt my fingers twitching to pull you closer.

“How’s Adam?” my big mouth asked. It had always been my defense mechanism. If I felt things getting off the rails, I’d just bring the conversation back to your loving, devoted husband that you’re crazy about.

You seemed to break out of the haze, stepping back the tiniest bit.

“He’s good! Excited to have the house to himself for the weekend, I think. He’s actually the one who sent the vodka. He said he wanted us to have the very best weekend.”

Well that was interesting, I thought. Adam had always accepted my presence in your life, but also seemed to always be aware of our flirtation and not in the “oh I would love to watch THAT” kind of way.

But as I felt the vodka quickly working its magic in my body, I forgot to think any more about him.

---

“Hot tub time!” you exclaimed, taking my hand and pulling me down the hall to the room where I had dropped our bags. You paused for a moment in the doorway.

“Is there another bedroom?” you asked, glancing around the space.

Okay, so I might have done this on purpose. I can’t help that I wanted to be close to you. Sleeping in whole separate rooms would be depressing.

“Oh yeah, just the one,” I replied. “I thought I mentioned that? It’s a king bed, not like we won’t have plenty of room.”

“Interesting,” you muttered, still holding my hand and guiding me further into the room. You turned, looking back at me with a grin. “Well, just so you know, I’m a sleep snuggler. And I have to be little spoon.”

“Oh no, that sounds terrible,” I joked as you dropped my hand and tossed your suitcase onto the bed. I got to work on finding my own bathing suit.

I stepped into the bathroom to pull mine on before throwing my hair into a ponytail. I came back into the bedroom to see your back to me, your bottoms already on. You hadn’t heard me yet and I only felt a little bad for taking an extra few seconds to look at your soft, round ass.

“Here, let me,” I said, stepping closer as you worked to adjust the straps on your top. I slid my hands gently up your back before finding the twisted strap and putting it back in its proper position.

“You just like having an excuse to get your hands on me,” you said, and I felt the heat rising in my cheeks. I slid my hands over your shoulders and down your arms as I leaned in closer.

“You have no idea,” I whispered. You stayed still for another moment. It felt like you were waiting for me to break. I didn’t.

“Okay, let’s go see about this hot tub!” I said, taking your hand and pulling you behind me, leaving the tension of the moment behind us.

==

The sun had just set, and the view from the covered patio was stunning. I pulled off the cover of the hot tub while you made us proper vodka sodas. I had already slipped into the tub and turned on the jets when you came out, sitting our drinks on the ledge before stepping in.

I didn’t even try to look away, though I did manage to stop myself from biting my lip as I watched you enter. It was a big tub – enough for 8 people according to the listing. But, as usual, you settled into the spot right next to me.

I grabbed both our glasses and handed yours over. We sat there quietly for a few moments, listening to the cicadas buzz.

“This is exactly what I needed,” you said softly. I murmured my agreement.

You reached behind me to set your drink back down, then allowed your arm to rest behind me, pressing against my back. Typical, always finding a way to touch me. To tease me.

“So work’s good?” I asked, trying to get my mind right.

“Yeah it’s fine,” you replied. “Same old people. Travis is exactly what you remember, always taking credit for other people’s ideas, but other than that, I still like it.”

You drew a line across my shoulders with your finger. I felt the goosebumps break out across my body.

“What about you? Are you still liking the freelance life? No chance you want to move back to Chicago so you can have the world’s best coworker again?”

I laughed, letting my right hand rest on your thigh.

“I love it, actually. I get to do the creative work without all the shitty admin stuff I had to do at the firm. There’s always work available if I want it, but I can pick and choose jobs to make sure I have time for my own projects,” I told you.

“That sounds pretty perfect for you,” you said. “You’ve always been a creative genius.”

“Genius is a stretch, but…”

“Maya, stop it. Take the compliment,” you said, looking into my eyes. You raised an eyebrow a challenge, but I backed down.

“Okay, okay. Thank you,” I said, my heart in my throat as you turned to more fully face me. “God, you’re beautiful,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

You blushed. “I feel pretty good but I still need to get these last ten pounds off.”

“Look at me,” I replied. I paused, taking another long sip from my glass as I decided how much to say. “Fuck those ten pounds. You are perfect. Your body is perfect. I love that you’ve been going to the gym but not because you ever needed to lose weight, it’s because you look so fucking strong and soft and gorgeous. So please, do not say negative things about your body around me. I’m not having it.”

You took a deep breath, looking primed to argue. But you let it out slowly, sitting back, and gave me a quick nod rather than fighting me. I grinned at the win. You reached for your own glass and had another drink. I turned my body slightly in my seat so I could see more of you.

“Do you ever wonder…” you started, before trailing off.

“Do I ever wonder what?” I asked, fingers skimming up and down your wrist.

“Do you ever wonder what would have happened. If we ever… if we had ever been single at the same time?” you rushed through the last part so quickly I almost questioned what I’d heard.

I paused, thinking.

“No.”

You looked at me, surprised.

“Never?” you asked.

“I’ve never wondered because I’ve always known, Rach. You and I, we could never date. We would make each other absolutely insane. My messiness and tendency to space out and be late would make you want to scream. Your need for routine and stability would make me feel suffocated. It would be a disaster,” I said, watching your face fall a little.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” you said, starting to pull your wrist back gently. I held it tighter.

“But the sex? The sex would be fucking incredible. Mind-blowing,” I said, watching as your eyes went bright and your cheeks flushed. “Whatever this is between us, our chemistry is undeniable. We would never fall in love. But good God, the things I would do to you if I could…”

I let the thought trail away. Your deep brown eyes locked on mine as I felt you inching closer. Your hand reached my face.

My hands slid up your arms to your shoulders, and I pressed gently. As you moved forward, I angled so our foreheads pressed together gently. I held you firmly, still.

“Okay. Time for bed, I think. Or maybe a cold shower and then bed,” I laughed.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Good idea.”

--

I did not, in fact, take a cold shower. Instead, I took a hot one, letting the water slide over my hard nipples. I swallowed moans as my fingers worked my already aching clit.

I knew that this weekend was going to kill me. Being so close, not being able to have what I wanted. But I also knew that I needed to keep my mind clear, and to do that I needed some relief.

So I bit my lip as my hips canted forward, desperate for more. I wanted more friction, more everything, but I worked my fingers over my clit and pinched my nipples until I finally fell over the edge, trying to stop thinking about your lips, your ass in that swimsuit, your gorgeous, curvy body currently waiting in the bed just outside the stall.

--

While you showered, I grabbed my phone, catching up on text messages before scrolling through TikToks. You had only been gone a few minutes when a surprising name showed up in my text alerts.

Adam: How’s the trip going?

I paused. Adam and I didn’t really text. We had each other’s numbers from planning for your surprise 40th last year, but outside of that, there had been no communication. Also, why was he asking me how the trip was going? Were you guys not talking or something?

Maya: It’s going great. She seems really relaxed. Everything good?

I watched the three dots as he typed.

Adam: Yeah, all good.

More dots.

Adam: Listen, I wanted to tell you something.

Maya: I’m listening

Adam: She’s had a lot of stress lately, at work. And I really want her to have a good weekend.

I rolled my eyes. Obviously, we both want her to have a good weekend.

Maya: Of course. Thanks for sending the vodka btw

Adam: Oh yeah, np. But also… listen I know you guys have always had this energy.

I froze. A little panic set in. Had things already gone too far?

Adam: And honestly at first it made me a little uncomfortable. Because there’s this obvious part of her that’s just always going to be drawn to you.

Maya: I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable

Adam: No, that’s not what I’m saying. Just let me get this all out, okay?

Maya: okay

Adam: I know what you guys are like and I know what she really wants. And I’m just saying that I think you should give it to her.

My heart raced. I felt like I knew what he meant but I sure as hell wasn’t doing anything else without clarifying.

Maya: you’re going to have to say exactly what you mean, Adam

Adam: I’m saying that if she wants you, and you want her, I think you should go for it. She needs to relax, and we’re at a place now where I’m confident in our relationship and just want her to have everything she needs. And I think she needs you.

I tried to stop my spinning head, to get my bearings.

Maya: that’s a lot. Are you sure? I don’t want you to have regrets.

Adam: I won’t. but I need you to do one favor for me.

My mind started wildly guessing what he could want. He was going to want to watch, wasn’t he? Typical man.

Maya: what’s that?

Adam: Don’t tell her yet. Push her as far as you can before you tell her you have permission. Make her desperate for it, then give her everything she needs.

Maya: God. Okay. Listen we’re about to go to sleep. I’ve had a couple of drinks and I’m not going to get into this tonight, but I will sleep on it and check in tomorrow. That okay?

Adam: Of course. Take good care of her.

Maya: Always. Gnight

When the bathroom door opened, you came out wearing those little black panties and a loose sleep shirt. Nothing overtly sexual, but that didn’t stop my eyes from wandering. I wondered if you could hear my heart pounding.

You crawled into bed, kissing me on the cheek before turning away from me and pulling the blankets up.

“Thanks for a great night,” you said.

“Of course,” I replied, starting to turn away from you.

“Nuh uh,” you said, grabbing for my arm and pulling me toward you instead. “You gotta be my big spoon.” I let my arm wrap around your waist, my nose buried in your still-damp hair.

“Sleep good,” I whispered into your ear.

“Sweet dreams,” you replied.

You had absolutely no idea how sweet my dreams were going to be that night.

---

I woke up the next morning and immediately assumed that the exchange with Adam had been a weird dream. You were already up and out of bed, so I grabbed my phone and opened my texts. I hadn’t been dreaming.

I really had permission to do what I wanted with you.

My brain was swirling. I was overwhelmed with ideas, naughty things I wanted to do, filthy things I wanted to whisper in your ear.

I tapped out a quick reply to Adam.

Maya: you’re on

Adam: Good. Have fun! And Maya… she likes it when you tell her what to do.

I had to close my eyes for a moment to let that wash over me. I had always suspected you were a little bit submissive, but we’d never gone there, even in conversation. Fuck.

I liked his message before tossing my phone aside. I threw on some lazy-day clothes before finding you in the kitchen.

You were standing at the counter, stirring the creamer into your coffee.

“Morning,” I said as I entered your personal space.

“Good morning,” you said, looking surprised as I pressed gently against you, reaching around behind you to grab the empty mug.

“Too close?” I asked, stepping back. “Because it didn’t seem too close last night when you pressed your ass against me all night long.”

You flushed, a glint in your eye.

“I wasn’t…”

“Don’t deny it,” I said softly. “We both liked it.”

You gave me the smallest nod.

“What are we doing today?” I asked with a smile, letting the tension dissolve.

“Absolutely nothing,” you replied. “We’ve got plenty of food and snacks, there’s no reason to leave. I figured we make a fire, lay around, read, et cetera.”

“Sounds like a perfect day.”

--

Several hours later, the fire was rumbling, the two of us sitting at opposite ends of the couch. We sat facing each other with our legs stretched out, mine on the inside against the cushions. You had some thick paperback thriller in your hands, I was reading a sapphic romance on my Kindle.

I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea. It was 5-pepper spicy and not helping me do anything but think about all the ways I wanted to make you come.

One of your hands kept drifting up and down my ankle, tiny touches that made my whole body tense up.

“Why are you so tense?” you asked, grabbing one of my feet and massaging it with both hands.

“You aren’t really asking me that, right?”

“I am! I want to know,” you replied stubbornly.

“You, Rachel. I’m tense because you’re touching me,” I said gently.

You let go of my foot, your head tilted to the side in confusion.

“I’m not saying I want you to stop,” I said. “I don’t want you to stop. It just feels almost too good, you know?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

 I saw the understanding cross your face as you went back to work massaging my foot.

“But don’t stop?” you asked.

“Don’t stop.”

--

We threw together a charcuterie board lunch and nibbled throughout the afternoon, rotating positions on the couch and overstuffed armchairs. I stole glances all day, barely hiding the fact that I was looking. Your leggings showed off your full ass, the straps of your sports bra peeked out from below your loose t-shirt, never failing to make me think about what was under it.

You pushed a piece of your hair out of your face. It was at least the tenth time I’d watched you do it that day.

“C’mere,” I said from the couch, patting the spot in front of me. “Let me fix it.”

You smiled and sat cross-legged on the floor between my legs.

I ran my fingers through your thick hair, scratching your scalp. You let out a moan that stopped me in my tracks. I almost broke, then.

But I was supposed to be pushing you until you can’t take anymore. And I knew you could take more.

I massaged your scalp as I divided your hair into sections, making excuses to gently touch your neck, shoulders, and back as I worked the sections into two long braids.

“That feels amazing,” you whispered. “Don’t stop.”

--

For dinner, I threw together a pasta dish and a salad and we ate at the table with blankets over our legs, watching the sun set over the mountains. We drank wine and laughed and told the same old stories about the same old co-workers. We reminisced about all the Happy Hours we spent at the bar up the street from the office.

You still found ways to touch me, and I was barely hiding my want. I certainly wasn’t even pretending that I wasn’t checking you out every chance I got. I’d been touching, teasing, quietly torturing you for hours.

After I took the dirty plates to the kitchen, I pulled out the chocolate trifle I’d made before hitting the road. It had always been your favorite.

“Oh my God,” you said from the table. “Is that your famous Cookies and Cream Trifle? I’ve had filthy dreams about that thing.”

I grin. “Come here and get some.”

As you approach, I slide a finger around the edge of the bowl, gathering up bits of chocolate pudding and whipped cream and Oreos.

Your eyes darken as you move closer. I bring my finger to your lips. They part, just enough to let me in. Your eyes close as I feel your tongue dart around my finger, sucking it all off. You moan before you step back.

“Jesus Christ, Maya. You’re fucking killing me. You’ve been making me crazy all day.”

“And?” I ask, defiant.

Your eyebrows raise, your eyes frantic.

“And! Nothing can happen! You know I tried floating the idea of me hooking up with other women to Adam and he has never seemed up for it.”

I pulled you back into me until you were standing squarely between my legs.

“Maybe he changed his mind,” I said, not breaking eye contact.

“What are you talking about?” you asked.

I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket, unlocking it and opening the text exchange. I showed it to you and watched as your eyes scanned the screen, getting bigger as you read further.  

“So,” I said, pausing to give you time to think.  I remembered how my head felt last night, how it felt like almost too much to process.

“Here’s what we are going to do. I’ve had a little time with this, and I know what I want. But I want you to have time to think, too. So, we’re going to eat our dessert. In a totally normal way, using utensils. And then we’re going to finish that awful movie we started, and we’re going to go to bed. Tomorrow morning, we talk. Sound good?”

You nodded slowly, still clearly a little stunned by the developments.

“If we do this… it won’t ruin us, right?” you asked.

“We are good. Whether anything physical ever happens between us or not, we are always going to be good. Whether we forget this conversation ever happened and continue teasing each other forever, or make each other come all over this cabin, our friendship is the most important thing. Always.”

TO BE CONTINUED.