"That's harsh," I whispered.
I regretted it immediately. Immediately.
"Harsh?! What's harsh is you fucking my best friend behind my back!" His voice was getting louder, angrier.
I apologised again. And again and again.
My eyes were filling and a lump was forming in my throat. I didn't want to cry, pity myself. I wanted to be strong, make him see how sorry I was. But the hurtful words he was throwing at me were making me feel worthless, making me cry.
He was sitting on the sofa, arms leaning on his lap, sitting forward. I slowly made my way towards him, and crouched down in front of him. My head was down and tears were spilling down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry," I breathed.
I was expecting him to push me, or slap me. He was getting that angry. But he took me by surprise. I felt his hand cup the side of my face, pulling it gently upwards so we were looking at one another. His thumb stroked my cheek and his fingers tickled the back of my neck. He half smiled at me with the same smile that made me fall head over heels for him and moved his fingers into my hair.
"I know, babe. I know."
I kind of smiled back, still unaware of how he was feeling towards me. I didn't know if he could forgive so quick. But I guess he had from what happened next.
He tried to pull me up so I was standing over him, put his arms around my waist and pulled me over to sit on his lap, my legs at either side of his. I bowed my head and kissed him, with him kissing me back so gently. We'd never kissed so tenderly. His tongue started to explore my mouth, our kiss deepening. He brought his hands back up and cupped my face, his fingers intertwined in my hair as our kiss gained passion. I was in love.
I pulled my lips from his and began pecking his cheek, and leaving a trail of kisses along his jaw. I moved to his neck, knowing this was his soft spot. I could get anything I wanted after kissing his neck! My kisses were becoming longer and deeper, until I began suckling, leaving little love bites on him. His arms were under mine now, his hands on my back, his fingers stroking me, almost drawing patterns on me. He knew my weaknesses too.
After making out for quite some time, my body began to react and I was writhing on top of him. He shifted me onto my back and laid me on the sofa. I parted my legs, my skirt up at my waist, my knickers on show. He smiled, wickedly.
"I like what I see, babe."
I just reached for his t-shirt and pulled him down so our lips met.
We made out in this position for some time, his hands slipping under my shirt and cupping my breast. He reached behind and unclasped my bra, so his hand could get underneath it easily. His fingers met my nipple, and it instantly hardened at his familiar touch. I began tugging at his shirt, trying to signal that I wanted it off.