by Carrie Quest
He tilts his head and pretends to think for about three seconds. “Yeah, I could do that.”
He lets out a whoop and bends down, lifting me up in a fireman’s hold. I scream and laugh and run my hands over the muscles of his back so I can grab his ass as he carries me through the front door and down the stairs to his room, spinning me around a few times. I catch a glimpse of the brand new king-size bed pushed up against the back wall.
I sway when he finally puts me down, partly because of the rush of blood leaving my head, but mostly because we’re finally here, alone in his bedroom. No creepy unwanted guests, no surprise roommate visits, and no Lord of the Rings soundtrack blaring.
Just us.
The room is spinning, so I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. He stands there, solid and still, watching me. Seeing me. I close my eyes for a second and hold on, clinging to his solid warmth while I get my bearings. He waits, then swallows hard when I finally move, running my fingers slowly down his chest to grab the bottom of his shirt.
“I’m pretty sure cavemen don’t wear these,” I say, lifting it up. He’s too tall for me to pull it over his head, but he takes over, reaching up to grab a fistful of fabric behind his neck so he can yank it off.
“Or these,” I say, reaching for the button on his shorts.
He’s trembling, and I’m not sure if it’s the effort of holding himself still or because of what my fingers are doing, but either way it’s because of me, and that’s a powerful thing. I pop the button on his shorts and they slide off his hips immediately. He takes a little step back to kick them away and now it’s my turn to see him.
“You’re gorgeous too,” I tell him truthfully. Because he is. I’ve seen Ben without a shirt a handful of times since that first night, but those were quick stolen glances: peeking out the window while he mowed the lawn or desperately trying to keep my eyes on the TV when he lounged on the couch. This is the first opportunity I’ve had to look my fill, and I’m not going to waste it.
He hisses out a breath when I reach to trace the outline of his six-pack, letting the tip of my finger wander through the grooves of muscle, stopping right before I hit the faint happy trail of golden hair that leads down to the dick currently trying to punch its way out of his boxer briefs.
“Nat?” His voice is low and rough.
“Mmm?” I ghost my hands back up his chest, then lean in to swirl my tongue around one flat nipple.
“You said you wanted a caveman?”
My head snaps up. This sounds promising.
“Are you going to break out the fur muumuu?” I ask. “Because…”
I don’t finish the sentence because his mouth takes mine. Our teeth clash and our tongues chase each other back and forth, first in my mouth and then in his. He spins me around and walks me backward until my thighs hit the mattress.
“Off,” he says, letting my mouth go long enough to pull the tank top over my head. Then his lips are on mine and his hands are at my back. He snaps my bra open with a satisfied grunt and I shake my arms to get it off. We both moan when my breasts hit the bare skin of his chest, but he’s a man on a mission now and he doesn’t even pause, just pushes me back onto the mattress, one hand between my shoulders to break my fall, and licks his way down my neck.
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs as he twirls his tongue around one nipple. He glances up at me, eyes hot and wild. “Okay?” he asks.
“More,” is my only answer, and he shoots me a wicked smile, then lowers his head to blow cool air over my wet nipple while he pinches the other one, plucking it until they’re both hard and aching for more. I close my eyes, savoring the sweetness of the wait, then gasp when he sucks one deep into his mouth, taking strong pulls that send sparks racing all over my body to meet between my legs.
“That noise kills me,” he murmurs as he kisses his way down my stomach. By the time he dips his tongue in my belly button, I’m squirming, pushing my hips up into him, seeking friction anywhere I can. I’m soaking wet and swollen, greedy for his fingers or his tongue or his cock.
I’m not picky. Any part of him touching my clit will do.
He pulls my skirt off, taking my dripping panties with it, and quickly shoves his own briefs down. The hungry noise I make when his cock springs out should probably embarrass me, but it doesn’t. I am hungry for him and I want him to know how much.
He drops to his knees and disappears for a minute, scrambling for his shorts. He comes up grinning and tosses a condom on the sheet next to me, then grabs my knees and pulls me to the edge of the bed, staring at my pussy. I swear my clit is pulsing, sending out a distress call, begging for assistance and relief.
And Ben hears it, he must, because he smiles up at me, then lowers his head and swirls his tongue in little circles exactly where I need him most. He starts out light and gentle, but I’m so far past ready that it’s still almost too much. I take deep breaths and relax into the sensation as he falls into a torturous rhythm, licking down to thrust into my opening, then slowly back up again to lap at my clit. My muscles melt and I sink into the bed, waiting for the sweet pull below my waist that means I’m close.
It comes too soon, rushing through me so unexpectedly there’s no way I can hold it back.
“Harder,” I breathe on his next upward pass. “A little lower. Oh, god. Yes. Stay right there. Please. More.”
He sucks my clit into his mouth, then flicks it hard with the tip of his tongue, holding my hips down as I squirm and scream his name, telling him to keep going exactly like that, begging him not to stop.
I come hard, shaking as the stars behind my eyes explode, sending fire and heat shooting through my body. Ben stays with me, his licks slowly gentling until my orgasm finally stops, leaving me limp and sated. He gives me one last kiss, then crawls up my body.
I grab his head and pull him down to my mouth, groaning as I taste myself on his tongue. He fumbles for the condom, his hand tearing at the sheets, and lets out a relieved sigh when he finds it. I push myself back on the bed and he follows, still kissing me, his hands wild as they run over my body.
He stills on a moan when I grab his dick, hissing out a curse when I stroke up and rub little circles on his tip, smearing pre-cum everywhere. I get in two more pumps before he grabs my hand and pins it up above my head.
“I need to be inside you when I come,” he says.
He rolls on the condom and holds himself over me, balancing with his forearms on either side of my head.
And then he stops. Everything goes still and the whole world is reduced to his dark blue eyes, staring into mine, and our breath mingling as we pant at the effort it’s costing to hold ourselves back.
“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you,” he whispers.
I wiggle my hips and I’m so wet that the tip of his cock slides inside, but he doesn’t push all the way in. Not yet. He’s waiting for something.
“You have me,” I whisper back. When he still doesn’t move, I raise my head and kiss him softly. “Please have me, Ben.”
He thrusts inside, his eyes still locked on mine, then slowly pulls out and pushes in again. I come up to meet him, and he reaches down to lift my hips a little, changing the angle so his next thrust hits a golden spot inside of me that makes me moan so loud I hear a thump upstairs as Chuckles jumps off the fridge and flees to safety.
Our bodies are sticky with sweat, and when I reach up to lick a drop off Ben’s chest, he groans and buries his head in my neck.
“You feel amazing,” he mumbles against my skin. “So good.”
“So good,” I agree, chanting the words over and over as another orgasm builds, deeper inside me this time, swirling dark and dangerous in my core. I’m almost scared to let it happen, but once again it’s impossible to hold back, and I come even harder this time, biting down on Ben’s shoulder as my muscles spasm around him.
He pumps into me, harder now and out of control, chasing his own release.
Right before it com
es, he lifts his head and bites out my name, then takes my mouth in a searing kiss.
When he collapses on top of me, I don’t move to push him off. Instead, I wrap my arms around him and pull him even closer. I’m not ready to let him go and I’m not sure I can look into his eyes right now without falling to pieces.
Because I’ve had plenty of sex before, but that was the first time anyone has ever made love to me, and I’ve never been so happy or so scared in all my life.
22
Ben
I am a lucky bastard. I know I don’t deserve it, and I’ve certainly done my best to fuck it up, but the evidence is undeniable. Somebody out there in the universe has a huge hard-on for Ben Anthony Easton. There’s no other explanation for why the smartest, funniest, and most beautiful girl in the world has been waking up next to me for the past month.
Thirty days of fun and laughter. Thirty nights of fuck-hot sex and then drifting off to sleep with Nat wrapped up in my arms. No more nightmares. No more waking up tight and sore because of all the tension I carried, even when I was unconscious. For two people with zero relationship experience we are acing this shit.
I can’t remember ever being this happy. I haven’t got snowboarding, but I’m getting my life back and it’s so much better than I ever thought it could be. I’m enrolled in two classes for the fall and I’ve been helping Brody plan his trip, even toying with the idea of tagging along and doing a few runs off-camera. We’ve been hanging at the dog park and Thor can get through half the obedience course before he goes rogue and starts chasing that crazy poodle. It’s fucking magnificent.
“You’re not even trying,” Adam accuses me.
We’re in a huge physio room at the hospital, and Dawn’s got us playing a bowling game. Adam’s improved a ton in the last couple weeks alone. The last time I was down here with him, there’s no way he could have kept his balance as he stooped down to roll the ball. Today he’s killing it: scattering pins into the next lane and catching the ball when I toss it back to him.
“You’ve lost your edge,” he says when I take my turn and knock over a measly three pins. “Don’t let me win, Easton. I want to kick your ass fair and square.”
“I’m just a little distracted,” I say. This is true nearly all the time now, because whenever I close my eyes, Natalie is the only thing I see, and she’s usually naked.
My eyes are closed a lot these days.
“Fucking wake up!” A soft rubber ball bounces off my face, and I open my eyes to see Adam grinning, another ball lined up and ready to go. His face has filled out and his hair is long enough now to hide the ropey raised scars on his head. He’s starting to look like himself again.
“Your aim is getting good,” I say. “But it won’t be enough to save you.” I scoop up the ball and hurl it at him. It wings off his leg and sails into a basket a few feet away where some kids in wheelchairs are tossing beanbags. They crack up and in about five seconds the room has erupted into a hilarious version of beanbag dodge ball—me and Adam against at least five kids.
“Best therapy day ever,” Adam tells me an hour later when we’re back in his room. “Pipes should do her thesis on the healing power of dodge ball.”
He’s been dropping her name into conversation a lot lately, but when I ask him if she’s been to visit, he shrugs and changes the subject. Pipes hasn’t been back at the house much. I guess I could ask Natalie if she knows what’s going on, but it’s none of my business and, even if it was, I can think of a lot of things I’d rather do with Nat than talk about Adam and my sister. And there go my eyes, drifting shut again…
“Stop thinking about you and Natalie,” Adam says. “Or at least go in the bathroom and do it where I can’t see you.”
My eyes fly open. “I wasn’t—”
“Oh, please,” he interrupts. “You’re always thinking about it, and I can tell every single time. You get this weird look on your face, kind of like you’re constipated. Or imitating a llama.”
“A llama?”
“Yeah. Maybe an alpaca. I can’t really tell the difference.”
“You’re so full of shit,” I say. “And, for the record, I wasn’t thinking about Nat just then.”
“You’re a liar, Easton.” His voice is mild, and I know he’s joking, but my gut still clenches at his words. Maybe some reactions will never go away.
“How is Nat, anyway? When’s she coming back?”
I’ve brought Nat to see Adam a few times, and they get along great. Both of them are fiends for card games, so as soon as she walks into the room, he breaks out the deck and they force me and whoever else they can rope in to play along. Once Piper wandered by and we all played poker for a couple hours, betting toothpicks I snagged from the cafeteria.
“Three more agents have asked to see her book.” A swell of pride fills my chest. “She’s holding them off until she’s done with the revision.”
I finished reading Nat’s book to Adam a few weeks ago, and they’ve talked about it a lot. She says he’s really helped her. Of course, Nat also says her sketchy prof is helping her, but she tries to see the best in everybody.
“That’s awesome!” Adam beams, and it warms me up inside to see my best friend be so happy for my girl. “What about the first agent?”
“Nat told her she’s making some revisions and she’ll get the new version to her soon. Apparently, it’s not uncommon. The lady was cool with it.”
I don’t have a lot of respect for the prof or that scumbag Eli, but the other people in Nat’s writing group have been really good about supporting her through this crazy process. They helped her write the email to the agent and then took her out for drinks when the woman took two days to answer.
“She’s so talented, man. That book is gonna be a bestseller.”
I hold up two crossed fingers. “Here’s hoping.”
“How does she feel about you taking off?”
He’s looking past me, peering out the small glazed window in his door like he’s searching for someone in the hallway.
“Taking off where?”
He clears his throat. “New Zealand.”
And now I’m not looking at him anymore either. I study the panel of buttons near the head of his bed, feeling my heart rate pick up and pushing down that sick, empty feeling in my stomach that I used to live with all the time.
“Who told you I was going to New Zealand?” My mind races. Piper wouldn’t talk to him about this shit, but who the hell else could it be? And why would she tell him that? I went to see her knee guy when she made me the appointment, but it was a short visit. He told me what I already know—the knee is fine.
I told Piper he gave me some exercises and tried to remember to wear the brace when she came around. She’s been too busy to follow up, thank fuck, but that doesn’t mean she thinks I’m well enough to get back on a board.
“Autumn,” Adam says quietly. “She emailed me yesterday. Said you guys were renting the same place and she hoped I’d come visit.”
Rage rushes through me, hot and fast and out of control. I suck in a deep breath and close my eyes, but this time I don’t see Nat spread out on my sheets. All I see is red. Autumn hasn’t been in touch with me since her visit earlier in the summer, and it pisses me right the fuck off that she contacted Adam without talking to me first.
“She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m not going.”
“You don’t have to stay here for me, you know.” He’s looking right at me now, his face calm and resigned. I force myself to meet his eyes.
“I won’t say I’m okay with all this,” he says with a hollow laugh. “But I’m getting closer. I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done, Ben. You went beyond the beyond, man, and I’ll never forget it, but your whole life shouldn’t change because I caught an edge. You should be back out there. I want that for you.”
You shouldn’t.
I gesture to my leg. “The k
nee still isn’t right. And I’m cool with it. I had a good run, right? I’m going to take some classes in the fall instead. See what else is out there.” I force a smile, but he doesn’t smile back.
“Your knee looks fine to me,” he says. “Haven’t seen the brace in weeks.”
“You some kind of knee expert now?” Anyone but Adam would shrink back from my shitty tone, but he just grins.
“Maybe.”
I grin back at him, but it costs me.
“I figured Autumn was probably full of shit,” he continues. “I’ll tell her you’ve had a change of plans when I email her back.”
“Are you guys email buddies now?”
He snorts. “Not exactly. Autumn’s emails are all about Autumn. It’s actually kind of refreshing to get messages from someone who doesn’t completely avoid talking about riding. Hers are like five paragraphs about her endorsements and her competition plans and then one line asking if the hospital food is good.”
“Sounds about right.” Autumn did me a solid when she didn’t share that video with Adam, and I should probably defend her, but I’m still too mad.
“I don’t want to be buddies with her,” Adam continues. He starts picking at the rough threads of the blanket on his bed. “But I do want to ask her more about that day. I know she was there.”
It’s like I’ve been hit by a two-by-four out of nowhere. I was not prepared for this today. Obviously I was wrong about the universe liking me; the bastard was just getting me relaxed before delivering the killing blow.
“She was.” My voice is gravel.
“What do you remember?”
Sitting still is suddenly impossible. I stand and shove my hands in my pockets, so he can’t see they’re clenched into fists.
“Just the basics,” I say. “You missed the triple. Most of it is a blur, though. It was pretty bad. After.”
You’re a liar, Easton.
“Fuck, man.” He punches his pillow. “I feel like, if I could see it, I could understand, you know? Get some closure.”
