Every Hidden Truth (Far From Ruined Book 2)

by Nikole Knight

  Here he was telling me about his psycho, abusive father, and I came on to him. He probably just wanted a friend to listen to him, to support him. He didn’t want some faggot trying to jump him.

  As if he was coming out of a daze, he shook his head and ensnared the hand I attempted to reclaim from him. “Silas—”

  “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have—”

  Seizing my face, he cut me off as he tugged me back to his mouth. The kiss was surprisingly gentle given the tight coil of his muscles. It was feather-light, more of a teasing touch than an actual kiss, but it was enough to weaken my knees.

  He tasted like spearmint, just like I knew he would.

  With a sigh, he pressed his mouth to mine harder, kissing me in earnest. It was sweet and lazy, exactly the type of kiss I expected from Ben. My hands fisted in his coat for a moment, but I couldn’t control them. They slid over his sides, then his chest, and he shuddered when I buried my fingers in his beautiful hair.

  Far too soon for my taste, we separated, leaving me breathless even though it was the softest kiss I’d ever had. We remained nose-to-nose, breathing each other’s air. His eyes were dark. His chest rose and fell choppily as his forehead met mine.

  “I’ve been waiting a long time for that,” he said.

  I scowled, wrenching his hair viciously. “Then what the fuck took you so long, you dumbass?”

  He smirked at my less than romantic question and brushed his nose against mine. “You’re kind of skittish, you know? I couldn’t take the chance of being impatient and scaring you off.”

  “You’re a fucking idiot.”

  “You really know what to say to warm a boy’s heart.” He rolled his eyes. “Besides, I had to be sure you wanted me, too.”

  I raised an eyebrow and rubbed against him suggestively. “I think it’s safe to say I want you. Or do you need more encouragement?”

  Wiggling my obvious want against his thigh, I nipped his bottom lip, and he gasped. “Do you always have to be such a smart ass?”

  I assumed the question was rhetorical when he smashed our mouths together before I could answer. There was hunger in this kiss. I met his desperation with my own.

  My hands delved into his hair, his strands sifting through my fingers soft as silk. My heart leaped as he moaned into my mouth. One of his hands slid down my spine to my lower back. He pulled me impossibly close as the other cupped the back of my neck. He was everywhere, surrounding me with the scent of his spring soap and the taste of spearmint on his lips.

  When his grip dropped to my hips, he added just enough pressure to stumble me backward until my back met the wall. Pinned between his body and the wall, I groaned. His tongue dove into my mouth to tangle with my own. We battled for dominance, neither of us willing to submit. Ben moaned his approval at my stubbornness.

  Much too quickly, his lips left mine, and I whimpered at the loss.

  He chuckled darkly and blazed a path down my neck. As he drove me crazy with his mouth, my head fell back against the wall to give him ample room to nibble my pulse point.

  His erection hardened against me through our jeans, and I made the most embarrassing mewling noise as I hooked one leg around his hip. Fire raced through my veins, and I unzipped his coat, shoving aside the bulky material.

  “Silas,” he panted my name against my neck, and whatever control I’d utilized to this point snapped.

  I spun us, shoving Ben against the wall violently as I smothered his shocked grunt with my lips. My hands lowered to his jeans, and my fingers worked to unbutton them.

  Before I could get his zipper down, his grip cinched around my wrists hard enough to hurt. “Silas, wait.”

  I froze.

  The air between our mouths fogged as we panted like we’d just run a marathon. I pulsed behind my zipper, hard as a fucking rock. The outline of his hard-on beneath his jeans throbbed against my fingers.

  Why were we stopping? Did he have any idea how long I’d wanted this, wanted him?

  “What’s wrong?” I gulped in oxygen to aid my brain in recovering from the lust chugging through my nervous system. “Did I—?”

  “No.” Ben shook his head, but from the way he forced my hands away from his crotch, I assumed he was lying.

  I’d fucked this up already, hadn’t I?

  “I’m sorry.”

  He lifted my hands and placed a kiss on each palm. “Stop apologizing so much. I just—not that I don’t appreciate you, um…”

  “Trying to get in your pants?” I said with a risqué eyebrow waggle.

  His already flushed face darkened further. “Yes, that. It’s just, I don’t want this to be some hookup. We don’t need to rush, you know?”

  “Right, okay.” I bit my tongue so as not to apologize again.

  I was used to quick fucks in dark corners, hurried BJs, and rushed handjobs. This was different. I was out of my element.

  “Sorry—I mean, not sorry. More like, I’m not good at this. You know, the whole emotional shit.”

  “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.” His lips ghosted across my neck, then returned to my cheek, kissing once, twice. He nuzzled my nose with his, his lips tracing mine without making real contact. “Can I kiss you?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “When did you get so polite?”

  “Fuck you.”

  He yelped when I snuck my winter cold hands under his shirt. His skin was warm and smooth, and—holy shit, abs! When I reunited our lips, I decided then and there I could spend eternity kissing him and I would never get bored.

  Another shift worked over us, rearranging the way we fit together to create something different. It was new and fragile, this thing between us; one small crack and it would break into a million pieces.

  If it shattered, I’d break right along with it.

  I’d never felt so scared in my life.

  Four

  We spent eternity in the tower kissing. I wanted more than his teasing touches, but I stuck to the unspoken boundary he set between us. Not that I could complain. Ben was an amazing kisser.

  When we finally separated long enough to regain our bearings, he mentioned the late hour. We walked back to my house in contented silence, hand-in-hand. My stomach fluttered with butterflies the whole way.

  As he walked me to the door, I had a moment of panic. Should I invite him in? Was he expecting me to?

  My conflicted thoughts were unnecessary; Ben kissed me sweetly, ending it before we got carried away, then said, “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  Slipping my hands around his neck, I pulled him down for another kiss. I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth, and he groaned. He cupped my ass, surprising me with his boldness. My shock gave way to lust as he used his grip to pull my hips against his in a deliciously slow grind.

  Fuck it! I was inviting him in.

  He broke the kiss, his chest heaving as our foreheads met. “I have to go.” His words were less of a notice and more like a plea. “I need to go while I still can.”

  I nodded in understanding. My emotions battled with my will, my body pleading with Ben to give in. But there was a sense of relief as well. I needed him to leave, neither of us ready for what could happen if he didn’t.

  But, damn, I wanted him to stay.

  Or at least, most of me did. A slight shiver of trepidation trickled through the back of my mind as his erection shifted against my hip. My irrational anxiety eased when he added space between our bodies.

  Cupping my face, he pressed a sizzling kiss to my lips. He whispered goodnight against my mouth. I thought I said it back, though my brain was fuzzy, drunk off his scent and touches.

  He chuckled and pecked my mouth again before heading back to his car. Before he climbed inside, he paused to send me a wave and a shy smile.

  I stood in the doorway until he pulled out of the driveway and his car disappeared down the street. I waved as his taillights winked in the distance before closing and locking the door.

 
Leaning back against the solid wood, I heaved a huge sigh. Holy shit!

  I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but my mind raced a mile a minute. There was a lot to digest. I scrubbed my face with my palm as I reviewed everything that had happened in that tower, everything that had been shared between us.

  He hadn’t asked me to be his boyfriend, and I hadn’t mentioned it, either. So, where did that leave us? Did he want to be exclusive, or was I doomed to repeat the cycle of no-strings-attached relationships?

  Once in my bedroom, I didn’t bother changing into my pajamas. I dropped my jeans and removed my sweatshirt, leaving me in my t-shirt and boxers. I considered changing my shirt, but it smelled like Ben. Apparently, I was cheesy enough to want to sleep with his scent surrounding me.

  I plugged my phone in to charge and clicked off my lamp, burrowing under my covers as our exchange drifted through my mind. I’d never had anyone hold me like that, kiss me like we were the only two people in the world. It was new and frightening, but, though I didn’t exactly know how to trust him fully, I wanted to figure it out. I didn’t want to lose this feeling.

  My still hard cock twitched in my boxers, asking for attention as I remembered the feel of Ben’s scruff on my skin and the sound of his sexy gasps. But I refrained. I didn’t want to jerk off to him. Somehow, it cheapened the intimacy we’d shared.

  Plus, I’d already failed at masturbating once today, and I didn’t want a repeat of that humiliation. I didn’t want to risk my fantasy about my blond, blue-eyed diver turning into Boyt forcing me to my knees.

  Been there; done that. Not interested in a repeat.

  It made me feel weak, pathetic. I mean, what kind of guy couldn’t even masturbate without having an anxiety attack?

  I stared down at my tented boxers, equal parts frustrated and nauseous. What would happen if Ben ever tried to touch me? Go down on me? Would I pussy out?

  Not wanting to ponder such a mortifying scenario, I turned to my side and folded myself into a ball. My confused erection complained, uncomfortable in this position, but I curled in tighter until a pinching pain traveled its way from my groin to my stomach. I reveled in the discomfort.

  Served the bastard right.

  I closed my eyes, denying my predicament, refusing to acknowledge my pain. I didn’t know how long I lay there in sexually deprived agony, but eventually, I drifted off to sleep.

  I woke from a hazy dream full of color and laughter, the ghost of Ben’s hands on my skin, and smiled. Even though it was all in my head, I could still smell his spring soap and feel the softness of his lips on my mouth.

  Now, these dreams, I could get behind.

  As my awareness peaked, I blinked the sleep from my eyes and stretched. My muscles moaned in bliss as my joints popped, and I released a contented squeal as I melted into my mattress. I had a good feeling about today. Or I was still running on the high of Ben’s kisses from last night.

  Patting my hand along the mattress, I found the edge of my side table and snatched my phone. I checked the time on my screen, groaning when I saw it was a little before eight o’clock.

  Way too early for a Sunday morning

  An unopened text message from Ben waved at me from my phone. The timestamp was from early this morning, presumably before he went to sleep. Just seeing his name on my screen was enough to send my heart into outer orbit. God, I was so fucking lame.

  Ben: Sweet dreams, Si. Goodnight.

  A giddy grin spread over my face at the sweet gesture, and I typed a quick reply.

  Silas: Sorry, I just saw this. Goodnight and good morning.

  I assumed he was still sleeping, but the conversation bubble appeared next to his name a second later. My stomach somersaulted and my hands shook at the prospect of talking to him. Of course, that was stupid since I’d spent quite a bit of time last night getting up close and personal with his mouth. Talking to him should be a cakewalk.

  Yet, it wasn’t. Last night felt like a dream. I knew it happened, but there was a piece of me that feared Ben’s remorse or disinterest. Morning always brought clarity, and I really hoped he didn’t regret what had transpired between us.

  Ben: Good morning.

  That was it? Just, good morning? That was anticlimactic. And annoying.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I dropped my phone onto my chest, disappointed and oddly irritated. What was I supposed to say to my best friend who had made out with me? Had nothing changed?

  My phone vibrated again, longer with a different rhythm this time. I almost dropped the damn thing as I scrambled to answer the call.

  “Hello?” I said breathlessly.

  “Hey.” Ben’s husky voice was thick with sleep, and the enticing sound made me shiver. I loved the way he sounded in the morning.

  “Hey,” I echoed stupidly.

  He chuckled. “You already said that.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Someone’s not a morning person.”

  I tucked my phone beneath my ear as I sat up. “Well, someone kept me up late making out, so what did you expect?”

  The line went silent, and I face-palmed. Silas, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?

  “Sorry,” Ben said quietly, a hint of a smirk in his tone. “Shall I keep you up late doing other things instead?”

  Fire rushed over me, and my half-stiff morning wood straightened to full mast. I imagined all the other things we could stay up late doing and bit back an embarrassing moan.

  Holy shit, was he seriously going there right now?

  “What exactly did you have in mind, Benjamin?” I breathed the words, my deep voice dripping with innuendo.

  He choked, coughing hard. “Shit, I didn’t mean—that’s not—Oh, God, I did not call you for phone sex, I swear.”

  I fell back on my bed, laughing as he sputtered mortified denials. I could almost feel the heat of his blush radiating through the phone.

  “That’s really too bad,” I said, unable to stop myself from teasing him. “I bet we’d be pretty damn good at phone sex.”

  “I, uh, I’ve never had phone sex.”

  His innocent confession made me smile, and I dropped the snark. “That’s okay. I haven’t, either.”

  “That’s really not why I called.”

  “I know that. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

  “I don’t wear panties.”

  “Damn, I like a boy in panties.”

  “I’m going to assume you’re joking because the mere thought of wearing women’s underthings makes me slightly ill.”

  I muffled my laugh in my pillow. “Don’t kink shame, Benjamin! And underthings? Seriously? You’re such a nerd!”

  “Come on.” The gravel in his voice made his laugh ridiculously sexy. “Panties is a terrible word! Like curdled or phlegm.”

  “Okay, note to self: don’t use the words curdled, phlegm, or panties when I’m trying to seduce you.”

  “And we’re back to phone sex.”

  “Hey, you called me, Mister.” I sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Don’t get cold feet now.”

  An exaggerated sigh echoed in my ear. “Okay, well, I only called to see if you wanted to get breakfast, but now I’m rescinding the invitation.”

  My stomach bubbled with joy and nerves. “Like a date?”

  A pregnant pause followed before he cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, like a date. If you want.”

  “I’ve never been on a date.” It was my turn to blush at my vulnerable admission, but he didn’t laugh like I expected.

  “Well, then, it’s about time that changed.” Sheets rustled on the other line as he shifted in his bed. “I’ll come pick you up in an hour, if you want.”

  It took all my self-control not to do a victory jig in my bedroom as I kept my voice calm and collected. “Okay, cool.”

  “I figured I owe you. You know, for keeping you up late making out.”

  I bit my lip and dropped my voice to a purr. “Trust me, baby, I’m not
opposed to you keeping me up late.”

  “Stop trying to have phone sex with me!”

  “Oh, it’s gonna happen. It’s practically expected of boyfriends.”

  The moment the words left my mouth, my eyes widened, and I bit my tongue hard enough to hurt. I pulled the phone away from my ear and smacked myself on the forehead.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid! I was possibly the dumbest boy alive right now.

  “I mean—Uh…”

  “Is it? I’ll try not to disappoint, then.”

  Wait, what? My heartbeat kicked up at his words, and I tried to play it cool while, inside, I was freaking out. “You wanna be my boyfriend?”

  “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

  “I, uh.” My courage failed me, my throat closing up in panic. “I mean, um…”

  “How about we talk about it at breakfast?”

  “Breakfast is good.”

  “Good. I’ll see you in an hour?” He phrased it like a question, and I nodded before remembering he couldn’t see me.

  “Yeah, okay,” I agreed verbally.

  “Okay,” he said. “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  A nervous sweat collected on my hands as I placed my phone down on the side table. Holy shit, he was going to ask me to be his boyfriend. My heart pounded erratically in my ears, and I smiled hysterically as warm joy spread through my chest. I’d never had a boyfriend before.

  With only an hour to get ready, I sprinted to the bathroom to take a shower. I rushed through the motions—taking extra care to wash my crotch properly on the off-chance Ben and I messed around—then leaped out of the shower with suds still clinging to my calves. I brushed my teeth twice and sprayed an unhealthy amount of deodorant under my pits.

  To my utter shame, I went through three different outfits before settling on my favorite skinny jeans and one of my nicer indigo sweaters. I primped like a girl, teasing my hair with wax until I styled it to perfection. With one last inspection before the mirror, I smiled and gave myself a thumbs-up.

  I looked pretty damn good, actually. Ben wouldn’t know what hit him.

  As I chuckled to myself, I tucked my phone in my pocket and barreled out of my bedroom only to flail to a stop as I almost ran face-first into my dad.