Free Cutter: A Fight or Flight Novel by Ashley Suzanne

jaw onto her neck.
    All of a sudden, I get nervous. Josette’s fucking hot; there’s no doubt in my mind she’s had her fair share of guys and has far more experience than me. Marianne and I were both virgins, so it wasn’t like I had something to live up to. A hundred questions start rapid-firing when I should be concentrating on Josette.
    Does she really enjoy having sex with me? Am I better than her other partners? Is she falling in love with me? Do we love each other? Did I fuck up and fall in love with her? What would happen if I did? Would she stop talking to me?
    “Dammit,” I accidentally whisper out loud, and Josette pushes up on her elbows.
    “What’s wrong?” she asks with a flushed face and swollen lips.
    “Nothing,” I lie, and move down past her tits but not quite to her underwear.
    “Nope. You’re a fucking liar. Honesty, dude. That’s the only way this works.” She pushes me off her and I flop onto the bed next to her, burying my embarrassed face in the pillow.
    “Are you falling madly in love with me, Cutter?”
    “No,” I defensively respond. “You’re my best friend, so of course I love you,” I correct. “But not love you love you, I don’t think.” I’m even more embarrassed than before.
    “Oh, get your shit together. Just remember, my tits are super small, and I feel like you’re a breast man. Keep that in mind and you won’t love me, it’s impossible,” she jokes, and then starts running her hand down her body. “This pussy’s not gonna fuck itself. Do I have to take matters into my own hands again?” I risk a glance down at her breasts as she makes her way past them to her stomach. I will admit, in the shirt she was wearing earlier, they appeared much larger, but even without any enhancements, they’re more than a handful. A light pink, small puckered nipple situated on a perfect fucking tit. Dammit. This isn’t helping.
    Having had enough of my own bullshit, I roll toward her and pull her to me. Pushing my hand into her hair, I grip a handful and draw her closer, her lips barely touching mine. “Your tits are perfect, Jo. You’re perfect.”
    “Don’t go there, Cutter. You know what happens if you go there.” Now I’ve had enough of
her
shit. Taking her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, I expertly roll it between them and nuzzle my face in the crook of her neck.
    “I’d like to get back to the fun part, if that’s okay with you, Jo.”
    “Okay,” she breathes, then pulls my head up and presses her lips to mine. No longer urgent and clumsy, the kiss is full of passion and need. Sucking her bottom lip between my teeth, I bite softly and she lets out the sexiest mewl.
    I need to stop thinking she’s this…I don’t know what, but I have to remember she’s my best friend. She’s Josette. She’s brutally honest and doesn’t bullshit. All of those unanswered questions drift out of my mind, and I know that if there was something she wanted from me, something she wanted me to stop doing or needed more of than what I give her, she’d flat-out tell me. And she wouldn’t be passive-aggressive about it either.
    Pushing her back, I position myself on top of her again, this time with a newfound confidence. Kissing down her neck until I reach her tits, I then tease one nipple with my tongue and the other with my fingers. Josette arches her back toward me, her body begging me to keep going. Continuing my path, I rest my lips between both breasts then rake my tongue down an imaginary line, past her belly button straight to the lace of her panties.
    “Take ’em off,” I demand, backing off the bed and never taking my eyes from her. While she removes the thin fabric, I pull my shirt over my head and divest myself of my shorts and sweats. Josette leans forward on her elbows, the panties lying on the floor next to my clothes, and she intently watches me stroke myself.
    I kneel on the edge of the bed and she slowly and sensually lets her knees fall to the side,