by Lauren Helms
“I’ll wait down here,” I whisper. I’m suddenly scared to be alone with him in his hotel room.
“I don’t think so. I’m not chancing you disappearing on me.” He tugs my hand toward the elevator, and I continue to follow him anyway.
He looks over his shoulder at me, and with a smug grin, he adds, “Don’t worry, it will be a quick change. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” The elevator magically slides open as we approach.
I giggle a little when he wiggles his brows at me and pulls me into the elevator. Truth is, I don’t want him to keep his hands to himself. I want those strong, skilled hands all over my body. I also know he’s pretty much a stranger, and I didn’t make it twenty-six years in this life not understanding stranger danger. But Ben—and whatever’s between us—is different. It’s real and it’s strong.
We stand side by side in the elevator, fingers still twined together as we ascend to the tenth floor. Moments later, he’s pocketing his key card as we walk through his hotel room door. The lights are off but the blinds are open, and the early evening sun fills the room. The smell I’m starting to associate with Ben consumes my senses. His scent is a mix of mint and lemon. The room is tidy, the bed is made, and his suitcase is closed and sitting by the dresser. It’s obvious he’s packed and ready to go. It hits me hard as I realize how close we were to missing each other.
“Have a seat. I’ll change quickly.” He lifts his bag effortlessly to the end of the bed and unzips it.
“This is a nice room,” I say, taking in the suite-like space. There’s a big red couch near the door with a coffee table in front. It faces the big screen TV hanging on the wall above a sleek black dresser that holds a coffee maker and a bowl of snacks. The king bed looks so comfy, I can’t help myself when I plop down on it, bouncing a bit.
Ben smirks but pulls out a pair of jeans. “Yeah, I like it. I get this room every time I’m in town.”
“Really?” Surprise laces my question.
He chuckles. “Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I guess I’m a creature of habit. I worked with a guy once while writing a strategy guide who always had to stay in a corner room on the seventh floor. It was… odd.”
“Wow, that’s crazy.” I look around the room once more as he moves toward the bathroom. “You should leave something behind. Like, leave something in the bedside drawer and see if it’s still here next time you come.” I suck my lip into my mouth, realizing I don’t know when I’ll see him again.
“Like a note? See if anyone writes back?” He laughs but points to the nightstand. “There’s a notepad and pen in there, write something while I change.”
He disappears into the bathroom, closing the door but not latching it. I pull out said paper and pen and stare down at the paper, unsure of what to write.
“So if you’re not living in Culver anymore, why are you here now?” he asks, his voice raised so I can hear him through the door.
“I’m having breakfast with my cousin and aunt for my aunt’s birthday tomorrow. It was just easier to come tonight,” I tell him, pressing the pen to the paper but not writing.
“And you just happened to stop for coffee?” he asks.
“Melting Moon is my favorite part of Culver City. It’s been two weeks since my last hit. I missed it.” I chuckle, but when I look up, he’s walking out of the bathroom. He’s changed out of his drenched clothes into a new pair of jeans, but he’s sans shirt. I snap my mouth closed as I realize it was hanging open while I take in his tanned, hard abs covered in tattoos. I knew he had art on his arms, but I wasn’t expecting a peppering of work on his abs and chest. One of the tats on his shoulder wraps around and covers a small portion of the back of his neck. There’s so much ink, I can’t focus on just one, and my eyes dart from piece to piece.
“Sorry, I forgot a shirt.” He reaches up and runs his hand through his messy hair as he walks back to his suitcase.
“It’s fine,” I squeak. His eyes draw to mine and his smile is bashful. He places his dirty clothes inside a drawstring bag and puts it into the suitcase before reaching in and pulling out a shirt.
He lets out a low moan. “You keep looking at me like that, I’m not going to be able to keep my promise.”
“What promise?” My voice comes out breathy, and I feel the need to fan myself. His answering chuckle causes a thousand little dragonflies to ignite in my belly. I drag my gaze up his hairless, sculpted chest, to his chin and full lips. They’re quirked in a half-grin to his blazing hot eyes.
“To keep my hands to myself,” he says as he—oh, so very slowly—tugs his shirt over his head. He smooths his hand down the front of his shirt, his hand sliding to the waistband of his jeans. I imagine him popping open the button, deciding that dinner is overrated, and I have to catch a whimper before I let it slip out. I’m still laser-focused on his hand as he pats his back pocket.
“Ah, my wallet,” he says and walks back to the bathroom. That’s when the pen, still pressed to the paper, starts to write on its own accord. Looking down at my message, I can’t help but bite my lip.
I want to spend hours tracing all that ink with my tongue.
Sending a quick thought to the universe that this doesn’t backfire on me, I smile to myself, fold the note, then slide it to the back of the drawer. Just as I close the drawer, he comes back out.
“If we don’t leave for dinner right now, Kelly, I can’t promise you’ll get fed.” His gravelly voice catches me off guard. “Well, with food, that is.” A painful sounding chuckle follows.
I slowly push off his bed and walk toward him. “It’s okay. Let’s go eat. It will make coming back here all that more rewarding.”
“Fuck me,” he mutters as I grab his hand and yank him toward the door.
“Promise?” I peek over my shoulder and wink at him. I’ve got game too, folks.
We walk to dinner, making idle chit-chat as we go. We don’t get far from his hotel when his hand brushes mine and our fingers interlock without thought. Once seated, I waste no time getting to know him more.
“So, tell me more about your job.” I lean my chin on my palm and smile.
“Which one?” He smirks and takes a drink of water. We sit at the four-top table in the middle of the busy dining room. But instead of sitting on the opposite side of the table, he casually sat next to me.
Tapping my finger to my lips, I decide. “The voice-over gig.”
He launches into what he’s doing at Lasso, and I must admit, the whole video game creation is intriguing. You ever have a moment when someone’s telling you about their job and your eyes glaze over because it’s so boring? Well, that’s not Ben’s job. Not at all.
“I’ll be honest, I’ve never been into video games. I play a mean Candy Crush, but video games were never part of my life. But your job sounds fascinating. Both of them.” I rest my hand next to my plate, and he extends his pinky and brushes it against mine.
“Candy Crush is solid.” He chuckles.
“Can you be friends with a non-gamer?” I giggle.
“Yeah, I think I’ll manage. You seem worth it.” His smirk is sexy, and I want to kiss it off his face right here and now. But just then, the server stops by and refills our glasses. Ben’s foot finds mine under the table. His thick calf plants itself between my legs, effectively tangling us together. It’s not an overly sexual move, but we are touching and it seems as if the urge to touch each other is getting stronger and stronger.
“You mentioned at the diner that you haven’t been doing the game narrating for long.” I want to ask if this is something he’ll continue to do, but I don’t want to sound needy. He nods and chimes in before I can ask.
“Yeah, I guess I just feel like change is near, so I wanted to branch out a bit. I can’t be a professional gamer forever. I’ll need a fallback.” His finger lightly traces circles on my upturned hand that sits between us.
“Sounds sensible.” My voice is breathy and unsteady. “Do you think narrating video games is your next step?”
He smiles down at our hands, “Nah, but I think it’s a foot in the door.” He looks up at me. “Lasso is a company I’d love to work for when my gaming days are behind me.”
“Ah, sounds like you’ve got it figured out.” I tip my head to the side, smiling, and he winks. My heart pounds in my chest, and I twist my lips to hide another grin. His flirt game is strong and I’m loving it. This is one of the most enjoyable dinners I’ve been on in a long time.
“Do you have things figured out?” he asks, just as our food is placed in front of us. I sit back, severing our connection by moving my hand off the table. As soon as we’re alone again and start to dig into our food, he asks again.
“Uh, that would be a negative.” I chuckle, cutting into my barbecue chicken breast. “I just haven’t found my calling yet.”
“That’s all right. You’re only, what…” his face scrunches and I realize he’s trying to guess my age. I laugh and offer him the answer. “See, you’re only twenty-eight. You’ve still got time.”
“Well, thank you for the confidence boost, but I’d like to figure it out sooner than later.” I take a bite of chicken.
“What doesn’t work for you?” He eats his own food, and I have to admit that his steak looks just as amazing as my chicken.
“I know I don’t like corporate America, and I’m not sure I love office work,” I tell him honestly.
“Meh, office work is overrated. I bet you’re loving the animal shelter then.”
I nod because he’s spot-on. “I’m really enjoying it. My degree is in general business, but I got a minor in management. I’m loving running the shelter from day-to-day.”
“I’m sure the furry co-workers you spend your day with help.” He shrugs.
I lean back in my chair and laugh. “You have no idea how hard it is to not take my work home with me.”
“I can almost guarantee you’ll adopt a four-legged friend by the time I’m back in Cali.” He chuckles. While I don’t doubt him, this does give me the perfect opening.
“And when will that be?” I go for nonchalant, and I think I pull it off when he answers without hesitation.
“Three weeks. I’ll be back for four days, then gone a week and back for another four days.”
He must read the concern on my face. I can feel that my face is all scrunched. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“How do you handle all the travel? Wouldn’t it be easier to stay longer and get it all done in one go?” I look up at him, resting my fork on the plate.
“Well, there are several months each year where I’m traveling a lot. And I have to fit the narrating into my schedule. Lasso is great about it. They mostly want my voice because I’m on a championship gaming team, so they make it work.” His tone is noncommittal, like all that travel isn’t a big deal. “I’ve got a shit-ton of frequent flyer miles racked up. It’s ridiculous.”
“I don’t think I could handle all the traveling.” I twist my lips and think about that kind of life.
“I’m used to it. I have no reason to be home for weekends or throughout the week, really. My work is my life right now.”
We finish our meal while I tell him about Aubrey and Chance, and he tells me about his teammates. When we’re asked about dessert, he glances at his watch, and when he looks up at me, there’s pure heat in his eyes.
“Your choice, Kelly. I’ve got about ninety minutes until I’ve got to head to LAX.
I know what I want for dessert. While I’ve lost some of my confidence and am unable to make a sexy reply, I ask for the check without looking at the server. Ben’s smile grows, and he leans in while I do the same.
His hot breath at my ear, he says, “Good choice.” And then he lightly kisses the soft spot right under my ear. A shiver zings through my body, and I hear his soft chuckle as he does it again.
I fight back a moan just as a throat is cleared, and the server sets down the check. Ben pulls away and tugs his wallet out of his back pocket.
I don’t even remember him signing the receipt or exiting the restaurant. Rushing through the busy sidewalks back to his hotel is all a blur. We share heated smiles and intertwined fingers as we ride the elevator. Suddenly, my mind seems to float back into the here and now as he grips my hand tighter and pulls me down the hall to his room.
A burning sensation of anticipation fills my chest as we nearly stumble into his room. He pulls his wallet and phone from his pockets, depositing them and his key card on the side table. I walk to the bed, plopping down in the spot I sat earlier.
We stare at each other as the lights from the city twinkle into the room, but his face is slightly shadowed. He leans over and snaps on the table lamp. It doesn’t add much light, but there’s enough for me to take him in with a deep sigh.
He moves a step closer to me and then another, the sound of his footsteps cutting through the silence of the room. Blood rushes to my ears, and my hands tingle to reach out to him.
In a swirl of motion, he’s in front of me, our knees touching. I spread mine, and he doesn’t hesitate to step between my legs. Looking up at his handsome face, all I see is heat and desire.
He leans down and catches my lips. Fire sears through me as he brushes his lips over mine. Urging my lips apart, his tongue sweeps into my mouth, shifting the kiss from persuasive to demanding. A soft moan from the back of my throat causes us both to lose control. Grabbing a fistful of his soft shirt, I pull him down to me as I lean back on the bed. Bracing himself over me, I slide my hands under his shirt.
After that, the race to rid ourselves of our clothes is on. His shirt comes off, mine goes flying. His pants and my shorts collect in piles near the bed. He wastes no time freeing me of my bra and undies. And I don’t give him a chance to explore before I push his boxers down his hips.
The pleasure on his face as I gently wrap my hand around him results in a low hiss. I smirk at the reaction, and he leans down and nips my earlobe, sending a shiver of desire down my spine. This push and pull between us—this teasing—continues. Our kissing deepens as his hands roam over me, my hands gliding over his hard, lickable body as if I can’t decide on a place to land.
“I need you,” I say on a raspy moan.
“Yeah,” he moans, but he leans away from me, reaching for the bag still at the end of the bed. He unzips an outside pocket and digs around, seconds later, producing a condom. With heavy anticipation I watch him as he covers himself and then nestles himself right at my core. His cocky smile and heated stare cause me to smile as I reach up and cup his cheek.
“I need you. Now, Ben,” I demand, and suddenly, I can’t breathe as I feel the hard thickness of him slide inside me. Then I gasp for air as he starts moving his hips, my own movements matching his pattern. We move together, breathing in deep gasps of each other’s air. Hands roaming, grabbing, pulling. Lips smashing, tasting, nipping. Moans and grunts that are probably more animalistic than sexy fill the hotel room.
He reaches a hand between us, slowly circling where I need him most. My fingers twist deep into his hair only an instant before I cry out in pure bliss. A searing bolt of pleasure strikes through me. Ben stares down at me, his eyes full of molten heat as they watch me fall apart. Before I’m able to catch my breath and come back to earth, he leans down and catches the last of my gasps with his lips, finding his own release in the process.
He falls onto me, burying his face in the nape of my neck. I draw my arms around him and drag my fingers softly down his back. He places a gentle kiss on my neck in response as he adjusts, and the loss of him brings a coldness I wasn’t expecting. He returns to me a beat later and gathers me in his arms. Unfamiliar tenderness sweeps through me as we lay in a heap of bones and limbs in his bed. Well, his hotel bed.
I’ve never had such an earth-shattering orgasm before. Even with past boyfriends, the need to linger, to lay completely open and be one hundred percent me, has never consumed me before. The tightness in my chest starts to ache as the realization that he’s about to
leave works its way through my thoughts. It is too soon for love, that’s for sure. I barely know Ben, but it isn’t too soon for all-consuming lust, and I can tell if given the chance, falling in love with him isn’t far off.
Biting my lip, I will my heart to stop racing.
“That… That was…” His voice is still husky with sex.
“Amazing?” I offered.
“Yeah,” he says around a sigh.
We lie there for a few more moments, catching our breaths. Is he thinking about what’s next for us? He’s leaving. He has no choice—his home isn’t here. What could we possibly become to one another? As if he can hear my thoughts, he breaks the silence once more.
“I have to leave soon.” His voice is steady, but there’s a wariness with how he says it.
“I know,” I breathe out unhappily, and there’s silence once more. After several beats, I ask the obvious. “What happens now?”
His arm tightens around me as he lets out a deep, jagged sigh. “I can’t do long distance.” His tone is pained as his words hit my ears. I hadn’t thought about a long-distance relationship, only that there would be distance between us.
“All right,” I whisper.
We both continue staring up at the popcorn-speckled ceiling. It’s as if we both understand this conversation is easier to have in this way. We’re still completely naked, tangled in each other’s arms, yet without eye contact.
“I want to be something to you.” His voice startles me. “I don’t want to just be that guy you ran into several times and slept with that one time. I don’t want to lose you.” His words burn in my veins. He feels this pull between us. It’s bigger than we both expected, and it’s not worth letting go of… yet.
On a shaky breath, I offer the option most don’t want to hear. “Friends, then?” His chuckle vibrates through my body. “There aren’t many other options, Ben.”
He sighs. “I know, Kel.” The nickname results in tiny tingles in my toes, belly, and chest. “I’m not sure what this says about me. It probably means I’m a selfish asshole. But I want to do this again. I don’t think I’ll be able to forget everything that just happened between us. I’m not done experiencing you yet.”
