Tainted Love (Book 1)

by St. James, Ghiselle

  The band is playing Dream a Little Dream of Me. The singer sings, “While I’m alone and blue as can be” and I realize how much I want to be with Ben. Seeing him in Blondie’s arms makes me crazy. I can’t stand aside and watch him spend the entire night with her.

  “May I cut in?” I tap his shoulder, forcing the two apart.

  “No, you may not,” Blondie interjects, frowning at me. Like I asked this bitch a question.

  I roll my eyes at her and step between them, taking Ben’s hand to start dancing.

  “Excuse me?” she snarls and glares at me.

  “Back up, bitch,” I shoot back at her, bunching my fists.

  Ben tightens his grip on my waist to reign in my temper. Glowering at Blondie, he waves her off. Blondie quails. Upset and embarrassed, she huffs and stomps away.

  I turn to him and we start swaying, but I am still so mad at him.

  “We need to talk.” I grip his hand and drag him through the crowd of people with the aim of finding a private location. Trying the first door, it opens to a billiards room that I close behind us.

  Before Ben can say a word, I am on him, kissing him desperately. He groans in my mouth, cupping my backside and leaning me onto the billiard table. I hike my dress up, revealing the garter attached to the thigh high stockings I’d worn. Ben curses under his breath and hoists me onto the table.

  Eagerly, he strips off his jacket and pulls me closer to him. With hurried fingers, I unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, tugging them down his legs. I shift my thong aside and spit on my fingers, rubbing the moisture into my cleft.

  “Fuck, that’s sexy,” Ben growls, freeing his steely erection and shoving it into me.

  “Ah!” I scream out, grabbing his tight ass and urging him deeper. “Fucking make it quick,” I order through gritted teeth.

  “Shit, Sullivan. I’m breaking every rule with you.” He batters into me inexorably. “Jesus,” he hisses.

  “Oh. My!” I cry, enjoying the lewdness of our actions, and even more aroused knowing that at any moment we could get caught. The thought gives me a rush and I clench him, causing him to whimper and press his forehead hard against mine.

  “Fuck, baby. Do that again,” he says, his voice a hoarse plea. I oblige him and he shudders with a groan.

  “I want to be with you.” The words leave my lips before I can stop them.

  “What?” Ben stills and looks up at me.

  I grind against him, trying hard for friction, but he steadies me with firm hands, riveting me with that intense gaze of his.

  “Tell me what you just said, Sullivan. I need to hear it again.” His features are soft, but the demand in his voice is evident. It is obvious that there is still a wall of doubt preventing him from believing what I’d said.

  I caress his face and I can’t help when my eyes water. “I want to be with you. More than anything I can dream of,” I confess, tears burning my eyes.

  I can’t resist him anymore. No more running. I want to feel again. I want to know that I am more than just a convenient piece of ass to him; that I am the number one woman in his life, aside from his mother; to make sure Blondie never has a chance with him again.

  Ben exhales in a rush and kisses me swiftly, a broad grin coloring his face. Instantly, he starts slamming into me again. He hikes one of my legs up, hitching it on the billiards table as he pounds deeper into me, hitting my sweet spot in earnest. Over and over he grinds against it and I am over the moon. The trickle of tears that welled up in my eyes burst and flow down my face. I come tearfully, grabbing onto my lover to hold on to the moment. He follows, thrusting deep and hard into me then vibrating, spurting every ounce of his release into me.

  “You…” He is breathless, heaving as he rests his sweat-damped forehead on mine. “You’ve made me so happy, Sullivan.” He kisses my cheek, licking away every tear that falls down my face.

  “So have you, Ben.” And he truly has.

  We say goodbye to his family, after restoring our appearances. We had silly smiles plastered to our faces the whole time, touching and kissing each other because we couldn’t help ourselves. Already things felt normal between us, like I had nothing to fear.

  And I don’t.

  “You must come to dinner at our house one Sunday,” Diana insists as we hug our goodbyes.

  “Well, that’s up to Ben,” I say politely.

  Ben draws me to his side and kisses my temple, taking his family by surprise.

  “Oh, lovely!” Diana clasps her hands together then places them on mine. “You must bring her by, son.”

  “Yes, Benjamin, do bring her by,” his father speaks in an authoritative tone, which makes Ben frown a little.

  I lean into him and kiss his cheek, which does the trick at softening his expression.

  “I’ll bring her by,” he resigns, kissing my temple once more.

  “Benji, you’ve got a winner on your arm,” Matt says, shaking his brother’s hand.

  “Don’t call your brother that,” Diana chides Matt, who shrugs his shoulders in mock submission.

  “Sullivan.” Matt takes my hand and kisses it gently, tingles rippling through me. He still creeps me out. I need to tell Ben what his brother saw that day.

  “Hey, back off,” Ben growls. Matt releases my hand then holds his up in defeat.

  Diana leans her cheek toward Ben and he kisses her, then, shakes his father’s hand firmly. Matt and Ben playfully shove each other around before shaking hands and then we’re off.

  Blondie is nowhere to be seen and I’m glad she took a hint. We slither away from the photographers, still lurking outside, undetected, and duck into the limo. As soon as we’re comfortably seated, Simon sets off to the Schuylkill Expressway.

  “Thank you for dancing with my mother while my father went God knows where,” Ben says we drive to his house.

  “He went to speak with an associate,” I defend, rolling my eyes at Ben’s petulance.

  “Always business with Roman,” he gripes.

  “Isn’t it the same with you?” I jab at him, remembering how he had been ignoring me for his boss and Blondie.

  “And what’s that supposed to mean, Miss Beal?” he asks shooting me a raised eyebrow.

  “Hmph,” I huff, in mock outrage, folding my arms and turning away from him.

  “Don’t be like that, my sweet girl,” he cajoles, tipping my chin to face him with his index finger. He pouts and has the silliest puppy dog face that makes me smile and I shake my head. How do I pretend to be mad at him when he looks at me like that?

  “Like you don’t know,” I return, smiling wryly at him.

  Suddenly, the car makes a wild swerve, tossing me off the seat, and comes to a screeching halt.

  “Sullivan, are you okay?” Ben asks with panic in his voice. He drags me up quickly and holds me tightly to him. “Simon,” he barks.

  Simon rolls down the privacy window and I see panic written all over his face. “Sir, my apologies. Is Miss Beal okay? Are you?”

  “Yes, we’re fine,” he answers gruffly. “What the fuck just happened?”

  “A black SUV just cut us off, sir. Drunk driver, I suppose,” Simon tells us. He still looks pretty shaken.

  “We’re fine, Simon. You did good,” I commend him. “Now, please, take us home safely.”

  He gives us a sharp nod before turning back around and restoring the privacy window. The limo sets off again and we ride a few minutes in tense, thoughtful silence.

  “Do you think it could be those frat guys trying to scare us?” I ask, a little shaken. “Maybe they could’ve followed us?”

  Ben shakes his head and he strokes my arm as he answers, “No. Simone was the only person who knew who I was. I busted through every door until I found the right one. Thankfully, I got to you in time.”

  He inhales deeply and I feel his heart thumping heavily in his chest. He’s as shaken up as I; only, he’s hiding better than I am.

  “Even if they’d followed us, the security
team would have gotten rid of them,” he says this with a chilling seriousness that makes me think of one thing and one thing only: those guys would never be found if Ben had to deal with it.

  “What you don’t understand, Sullivan,” he continues, “is I will protect you; by any means necessary.” I believe every word.

  We get home and I am less scared than I was before, but Ben is still quiet…contemplative. I throw my wrap on the floor of the bedroom – habit – and fall into bed, utterly wiped out. Ben startles me by grabbing one of my feet and removing my shoes then rubbing. It feels good, enough to lull me to sleep, especially when he does the same to the other foot.

  He’s still tense, I think. He hasn’t said a word since he came home. I don’t like my man being this way. My man.

  Wow, what a 360 for me.

  “You know,” I start, feeling the need to cut the tension. “If I didn’t grab you when I did and then fucked you in the billiards room…”

  “Very good, I might add,” he teases, loosening up. “Not to mention, the wonderful news you gave me,” he injects, shooting me a sly look.

  “You,” I continue, poking his chest with a foot, “would have been holed up all night with Blondie,” I mock the last word in an airy voice.

  “Jealous, were we?”

  “Yes,” I reply honestly. “And I will always be jealous of anyone other than your mother or me on your arm.”

  “Well I guess my plan worked,” Ben settles, rising and settling on the bed next to me.

  “Plan?” I hit his chest and he laughs. “What is it with you and trickery Mr. Hayes?”

  “They seem to get your attention. Besides, I needed to get your attention after that fucking Brandon Mayhew kiss. What’s with you two? How do you know him?” he asks.

  “Jealous, are we?” I repeat his same wry question to him.

  “Hmm,” he murmurs, grabbing me and sitting me on his lap. “Yes. I was jealous, and livid. I’ll always be that way if anyone else is on your arm aside from me or your father…whom I have yet to meet.”

  Crap. “Give us some time, Ben. We’ve only just started dating,” I reason.

  “You’ve met my family, Sullivan. It’s only fair that I meet yours,” Ben contends.

  “I’d like to give us some time to before you go running for the hills after meeting my family and knowing all there is to know about me.” I lean further into him, closing my eyes, sleep creeping in. It has been an exhausting day – an exhausting weekend – and I just want to crash.

  “Do you really think I’d run if I got to know you and your family?”

  “I guarantee that you will,” I say jokingly.

  “Then, you have no faith in me,” he says resolutely.

  Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did he just say that? I turn to face him. His face is cool and his gaze, intense. He’s serious about what he’d just said.

  “No, I was joking, Ben. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry,” I grovel, taking his hand in mine.

  “Do you really think I’d run if I got to know you and your family?” he repeats, anguished.

  “No, baby, I don’t think that.” I did.

  But he doesn’t need to know that.

  Meeting his boss, his family, seeing how rich and well-known he really is; he’d definitely run after hearing all the gory, fucked-up details of my life. I am not risking that so soon.

  “Good, because I wouldn’t. Sullivan…” He pulls me closer to him. “I knew you were trouble and that you’d drive me crazy the first time I saw you walking through the doors at the Christmas party. You gave me such a hard-on just by walking into the goddamn room. And when you looked at me when you were talking with Simone and Cadence, I instantly saw my world being turned upside down.”

  “Then why pursue me?” I whisper, intoxicated by his proximity and the intensity vibrating off his taut body.

  “Because I had to, Sullivan. I couldn’t bear the thought of another man having you the way I wanted to have you,” he answers, running his lips smoothly along my neck and his hand further and further up my dress. I shiver, my head falling back to welcome his wandering lips.

  “And how is that?” I breathe as he finds me wet and wanting.

  “Carte…blanche.”

  With those two words I am gone; lost in Benjamin Adonis Hayes, who devours me like a forbidden fruit.

  CHAPTER 17

  I wake to Ben nuzzling my neck and groan not wanting to wake from whatever dream I was having that I can’t remember now.

  “Wake up, sleepy head,” he croons, nipping my jaw.

  “Ben,” I groan, shaking him off. “Five more minutes.”

  He laughs then swats me with a pillow. “Get up, drooly.”

  I growl and throw the pillow back at him, opening my eyes reluctantly to see him already dressed in tailored grey polyester pants, white shirt, grey vest and red tie. He looks like a sexy package to be unwrapped.

  “You look delicious,” I say hoarsely, stretching and yawning rather loudly and not at all ladylike.

  Ben gapes at me then chuckles, “Tired, are we?”

  “Your fault. You’re insatiable,” I whine, remembering last night and how Ben went for round two in bed after thrashing me in the limo. “What time is it?”

  “It’s 7:15,” he answers, handing me a bathrobe. “Shower. Now.”

  I jump up, realizing how far the time had gone and grab the robe from him. Ben swats my ass as I pass and I yelp from the sting.

  Taking a quick shower, I bound out of the bathroom after ten minutes. The next few minutes are spent getting ready, and I must say, the clothes he and the girls picked out are very nice.

  All dressed in skin tight jeans, a torso-fitting, long-sleeved grey turtle neck sweater and my black Chuck Taylors, I head downstairs. Ben had bought me black boots, but I feel so much more comfortable in kicks.

  “No boots?” Ben observes. He is sitting at the window in the leisure room, ankle crossed over knee, reading some documents and drinking coffee.

  “Naa, these are more comfortable,” I answer, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet.

  “Come here,” he gestures, resting the document and his coffee on the table.

  I bound to his lap excitedly, wrapping my arms around him. Ben kisses me, running his hand through my hair.

  “Is there anything you don’t look sexy in?” he asks running his hand across the back of my neck.

  “A burlap sack,” I answer, trying to mask a purr…and failing. He always knows just how and where to touch me.

  “Mm, I beg to differ. I’m having a visual and I think you’d look mighty fetching,” he opposes, running his nose along jaw line.

  I slap his very firm arm and he laughs. “Well, we can figure that out together,” I answer, snuggling into him.

  “Mmm,” he moans. “That word sounds amazing – together.”

  I kiss his cheek, but he holds me in place and engages me in a deeper kiss.

  “You’re delicious,” I comment, licking his lips greedily.

  “And you’re mine,” he growls, holding me tighter and sinking his teeth into my bottom lip then sucking it.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “And you’re mine.”

  “Yes.”

  Ben and I travel in the Phantom hand in hand. While he goes over the same document he had in the leisure room, I take in the Schuylkill River. It is so beautiful and serene. I can see myself staying here forever.

  “Hey,” Ben pulls me from my reverie. “Are you coming back tonight?”

  “Uh, no.” I cringe, waiting for him to be angry at my not wanting to stay with him. Ben is bi-polar like that, as I’ve seen before.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, I haven’t seen Rae…Rachel since Thursday night,” I explain. “And…I kinda miss her.”

  Ben sighs. “Fine. Can I come over then?”

  “Yeah, I’d love it if you did.”

  He brings my hand to his lips, kissing it gently then nods in approval. My stomach does the
weirdest flip, and heat descends to my core. I immediately have a flash of happily ever after with this man and, although I try to shake off the ridiculous thoughts, they don’t seem to vanish.

  Oh, my God.

  I’ve fallen for Ben. A smile tugs at my lips and I try to keep it down. Holy shit! This is either really bad or really good. I can’t stop thinking about him and frankly, I don’t want to.

  Already I’m looking forward to later.

  I arrive at UPenn in high spirits. One night changed everything between Ben and me. One night solidified something we both needed. I went to bed with a smile on my face and I woke up with an even brighter one. The notion of us gives me a hope that I haven’t experienced in years. Nothing can change this mood I’m in.

  Nothing except police cruisers and police officers dotting the campus, that is.

  As I draw closer, I see students crying and I wonder what’s going on. In the midst of a few of those students, I see Lizzie and I call her over. Lizzie gets up from the group and races over to me. As she nears, I can see that her eyes are red-rimmed.

  She reaches me and grabs me into a hug, falling apart all at once. I want to ask her what’s wrong, but I let her cry. She needs my strength right now.

  Finally she stutters out, “O-oh-oh my God, Sullivan!”

  “Okay, hon, breathe,” I tell her, rubbing her back. She takes a few breaths and tries to talk, but only comes out blubbering. Whatever it is must be big.

  “D-D-D-Dylan,” she stammers through tears. I hear his name and a cold anger comes over me. If I ever see that guy again, I will personally and violently shove Jerry up his ass…without lube. We’ll see how he likes to be violated.

  “He’s dead,” she chokes out. What?

  “Someone…someone shot him and s-sodomized h-him!” she screams, falling apart once more. When she has composed herself enough, she tells me the final piece, “It was with a full bottle of beer, Sullivan! They wrote on the floor with his blood that he will never rape again and that he got a taste of his own medicine. He’s never raped anyone…anyone!”

  I grow cold and I start trembling. I should snort at her assumption that Dylan was such a boy scout, but I can’t. My wits are so fucking shaken right now that it’s hard for me to assimilate the information Lizzie is telling me. What in the world did she just say?