by L. J. Fine
Unhooking her bra, she let the straps fall down until she held the loose cups up against her breasts. Slowly, she turned back around to face him and gradually let the cups go until her bra slid down and off, leaving her standing in nothing but her underwear.
When she backed up to climb up onto the edge of the bed, he leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. Once they both settled, she cupped her breasts in her hands again. This time, she made a show of licking her thumbs and forefingers before she rolled her nipples the way he had done earlier. Knowing that he was watching, that she was doing this for him, made the erotic pain that much sweeter and her head tilted back on a moan.
“Eyes on me, Emma.” The timber of his voice had gotten impossibly deeper and it had her head snapping up and her eyes focusing on his face.
Suddenly feeling brave in spite of his guff command, she made a demand of her own.
“Give me something good to look at, then.” She bit her lip and let it slide through her teeth before she added, “If I’m gonna get myself off I need some inspiration, Ben.”
Amber eyes narrowed on her but a ghost of a smile played at the edges of his lips. “I guess that’s fair,” he said reaching behind him to tug his t-shirt up over his head.
Immediately, her mouth watered as she watched the muscles in his upper body work as he took the shirt off then settled down to lean back into the chair. He was so gorgeous it just wasn’t fair. All that hard physical labor his day job provided paid off big time in the ripples of muscle that made up his body. And the way he sat there had his jeans riding very low on his hips. She could see the beginnings of the dark hair that led to that perfect cock she knew lay in wait beneath the material.
“Mmm, much better,” she all but purred and wondered when the hell she had learned to make such a sound. But he seemed to appreciate it, if the low answering growl emanating from him was any indication.
“Keep going, Sugar.”
Right, she had a purpose here, didn’t she?
Slowly, she lightly skimmed her nails down her belly. Spreading her legs wide so he had a clear view, she slid her right palm over her lace covered mound. Keeping her eyes trained on him, she found the outline of her clit through the material and gently rubbed in slow circles with her middle finger. Ben shifted in his seat and she could see the huge bulge pressed against the front of his jeans.
Oh, she so desperately wanted what was sitting in that chair across from her, watching her. Wanted to see him slide one of his big hands into the front of his jeans to stroke himself in time to her fingers.
Just the thought had her hips leaving the bed to thrust up into her hand. All the while, the song continued to pulse in the background and Emma found herself cognizant of the words for the first time since she had started this dance.
The lyrics suggested a metamorphosis of oneself. Finding that one person you would be willing to change for. With her newfound obsession with this song came a deep fantasy that was very much her own. Not one she would be admitting to Ben anytime soon, though.
The words had resonated with her as soon as she had heard them and she couldn’t help but wish that they could mean something between herself and Ben. That she could find the one thing, that one trait that would make him see her differently from every other woman he had ever met. Even if that quality didn’t belong to her, she would change herself so that it did. Then maybe he could let go of some of his baggage that kept him so far removed from her. Maybe they could both evolve for each other.
Rationally, she knew that thoughts like that weren’t healthy. Especially not in a situation like this one. You shouldn’t have to fundamentally change yourself to make someone want you.
But, damn, she could feel herself changing in spite of that knowledge. Inexplicably, he was breaking down her walls, one by one. She hadn’t been lying earlier when she told him that she didn’t want her old ideal of Mr. Perfect anymore. Somehow, he had crossed out a good chunk of the qualities on her “Charming List” and replaced them with ones that he possessed. Once she never in a million years would have thought she would want. Like his intense stillness, or his gruff, blunt nature and his abhorrence of idle chatter.
His “character flaws” were becoming more real, more desirable to her, than any previously accepted quality on her list. At this point, she might as well through the damn list out the window. A dangerous thought to have for someone like Ben. She had to remember that this was a no-strings affair and soon she would be going home to forget him. But for now, right here in this room, she let the fantasy of the music carry her away. Let it make her bold. For him.
Twisting the gusset of her panties so that it formed into a thin line, she slipped it between the lips of her pussy and rocked her hips. The tension of the material ran the length of her slit, rubbing against her clit, her dripping opening, and her ass all at once. She whimpered as she worked herself and struggled to keep her eyes open and glued to Ben.
Lips parted, his tongue came out to wet the surface of his skin as his eyes narrowed into slits of desire. While she watched, he unbuttoned his jeans and slid his hand inside, pulling his thick cock out into view. It was her turn to lick her lips as his fist shuttled up and down the length of his erection.
Wanting to give him more, she pulled the material of her panties to the side and held herself open to give him a clear view of her pussy from the bed. His molten eyes burned down her body like a caress and she felt delicious tingles along her skin everywhere his gaze touched.
“Emma. You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.” His gravel coated voice sent goose bumps breaking out along her skin and she couldn’t stop herself. Just the guttural sounds he made had her clit throbbing and she pushed two fingers inside herself.
She watched him as she pumped her fingers. Watched his hips pump into his fist in time to her thrusts. It felt so good but she wanted more, wanted him. Pulling her fingers free, she brought the wet tips up to her little bud and rubbed in furious circles.
“Ben,” she moaned, hips pulsing to the movement of her fingers. “I want you so much, baby.”
“I want you too, Sugar. You don’t even know how much.” His gruff response was all she needed to hear to push her over the edge. That he seemed to want her to the point of distraction was more erotic to her than anything else they had done.
“Oh, fuck, Ben, I’m coming. You make me come so hard.” The words had barely left her mouth before he was suddenly over her, his hot, thick cock pushing into her spasming hole, tumbling her back onto the bed.
“Mine,” he growled out as he started a brutal pounding rhythm inside her. The stark possessiveness in his voice had her climbing up into another orgasm before the first one had even completely ended.
He braced his weight on his palms on either side of her head as his body slammed into hers, eyes never leaving her face. She couldn’t have looked away from him even if she had wanted to. Which she didn’t. He was the most beautiful, primal creature she had ever seen. And she wanted him beyond reason.
His orgasm slammed into him at the same moment her third one crested and he rumbled her name as she clawed the skin of his back. His hot cum flooded her walls making her inner muscles twitch in pleasure.
In the aftermath, he collapsed on top of her and stayed there for a few seconds before he rolled off her onto his back. When he pulled her up against his side, she snuggled into him and said, “You’re staying here tonight, Ben. I don’t give a shit if you wake me up too early in the morning. I want you here.”
As the words left her lips she had a moment of panic that she should have just kept her mouth shut. Surely he wouldn’t appreciate a command like that coming from her, given their situation.
But to her surprise he just chuckled. “I really don’t want to be anywhere else, Sugar. So don’t worry, I’m staying.”
Her heart flipped dangerously at his words but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Turning on her side to face the nightstand, she shut down her iPod and
flicked off the light. Before she could roll back over, she felt Ben spoon up behind her and wrap his arm around her waist, tugging her back into his body.
With a contented sigh, she snuggled into him and as she fell asleep the word that he had growled out at her played over and over in her mind.
Mine.
Chapter Eight
Ben Serano was holding her hand. When he had reached for her and intertwined their fingers, she had been shocked but had zero intention of pulling away.
Even more shocking, he had spent the entire night with her the previous evening. When they had fallen asleep together, she had half expected him to have disappeared when she woke in the morning.
But he hadn’t. He had woken up at some ungodly hour to go home and get ready for work, but he had woken her.
On purpose to say goodbye.
Though she had been half asleep, the parting kiss he gave her played round and round in her mind. It had been so tender and full of promises she could only guess at. And had. All day. Made it near impossible to get any productive writing done.
Then he surprised her yet again when he called her around lunchtime time to ask her out to dinner that night. She may or may not have entered into an alternate reality, but as she got ready to see him that night, she couldn’t have cared less.
The sane, rational part of her brain screamed at her that this was very shaky ground to tread. She still didn’t really know him, still figured that this thing between them, whatever it was, wouldn’t evolve into any sort of permanent situation. Still had to go home in a few weeks to resume her boring life without him.
But the minute he showed up to pick her up on a motorcycle, handed her a helmet and pulled her on behind him, she told that part of her brain to go to hell. Then further solidified that declaration when he took her hand and led her into the restaurant.
Emma knew she was being foolish, letting her heart carry her away, but she couldn’t seem to help it, or force herself to walk away.
People packed into the grill/sports bar as they entered and they had to wait for a table. As she peered into the restaurant from the lobby she noted the football game filling the screens of the many TVs mounted on the walls. A loud cheer erupted as one of the teams scored a touchdown and her body jerked in reaction. Ben squeezed her hand gently. “I know this isn’t the quietest of places but I promise that the food here is awesome.”
He didn’t say much else as they waited, just assessed the people around them, which didn’t surprise her. What did surprise her was the fact that he idly played with her fingers while doing so. This small, unconscious action, warmed her heart and gave her belly flutters.
As soon as she felt it, she tried desperately to tamp down the feeling. This was getting ridiculous and it would only get her into trouble in the long run. Fortunately, he seemed oblivious to her tumultuous emotions and she wanted to keep it that way.
They didn’t wait too long before the hostess called their name and he kept up that amazing hand holding while she led them to their seats.
This kind of restaurant could give even the most focused of people a temporary case of ADD and she wondered if he had brought her to this place for that reason. The more distracted she was, the less he would have to carry on a conversation. Though, that reasoning seemed counterproductive to going on a date in the first place, especially since he had no obligations to her whatsoever.
So maybe this was an attempt in the relationship direction to see how it would go? If that were the case, then she was damn well going to come up with a topic of conversation and keep him engaged in it, distracting TVs or no.
“That’s a pretty sweet bike you have outside.” She knew next to nothing about motorcycles but she could recognize that his was in pristine condition. And the way his gaze pulled away from the people around them to focus squarely on her once the words were out, it seemed that his bike was a source of pride.
“Know much about choppers, do you?” The way the corner of his mouth twitched, she knew he’d caught her. But she wanted to talk about it anyway. She wanted to know about all his interests, what made him Ben.
“Ha, no not really. But you obviously do. Looks like you take great care of your bike.”
That earned her a smile. Damn. She would never get sick of seeing that smile. “Thanks. My uncle’s a mechanic and owns a shop in town. My bike was an old 1976 Harley that was pretty much left for scrap metal.” Here his smile turned rueful. “When I decided to become a legitimate, contributing member of society, I spent a lot of time there. Rebuilt her from the ground up.”
A smile played at her lips as her eyebrows rose. “I’m impressed. You seem like a jack of all trades.”
Heat filled his eyes and the smile turned into a wicked smirk as he leaned forward. Bracing his elbows on the table, he took her hand in his once more and twined their fingers. “I like working with my hands.”
The hot look he gave her burned the whole way through her body and she couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together as she scooted closer to him.
“And I know how good you are with those hands, too,” she said throwing him a flirtatious glance from under her eyelashes. “As evidenced by your bike sitting outside.”
His eyes narrowed on her but the smile lingered and as she sat back in her seat to take a sip of water she couldn’t help but think that she could get used to seeing him like this.
Their dinner came and went with amicable conversation after that. He told her more about his bike and working with his uncle. She told him about her job as a bank teller back in the city. It was the “get-to-know-you” conversation that they should have had about a week ago. Better late than never, though.
The pleasant tone of the evening took a turn as they waited for the waitress to come back with their change. The game had ended about a half hour ago but the bar patrons had stayed and the drinks kept pouring.
One of said patrons, after having consumed copious amounts of liquid courage, approached their table just after the waitress left. The man looked to be in his mid-forties, light brown hair turning gray at the edges, watered down blue eyes half hooded from inebriation. “Well, look what we have here. Ben Serano. Finally crawled out from under your rock to annoy the civilized world.”
The man was tall, but as Ben stood beside him to flip his jacket off the back of his chair and shrug it on, Emma realized that Ben was taller. Much taller. “Paul, always a pleasure.”
Paul got up in Ben’s face and hissed, “Should have stayed under that fucking rock where you belong, Serano.”
If Paul’s words fazed Ben at all, Emma couldn’t see it. Instead of giving Paul the rise he was obviously aiming for, Ben only nodded and turned to take her hand once more. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind. Have a good night, Paul,” he tossed over his shoulder as he began to pull her toward the door.
“Hey, honey,” Paul called out after them. “This guy really is a worthless piece of shit. You sure you don’t wanna come home with me and find out what a real man is like?”
Of all the things to get under Ben’s skin, she didn’t think that last jab would be it. Before she had a chance to react, Ben spun around and grabbed the guy by his neck to slam him up against the wall.
“You don’t fucking talk to her like that. Got it?” he growled in Paul’s face.
Ben’s ferocity was just shy of scaring her and it drew the attention of some of the other patrons in the bar. But Paul let out a wheezing laugh. “Yeah, ‘cause she’s such a lady. She’s with you so I’d say that makes her an eager slut with self-esteem issues.”
This time Emma saw when Ben moved, cocked his fist back and made to swing. She didn’t know where her common sense had flown off to, but she knew that she didn’t want him to get into a fist fight, in a public restaurant, because of her. His reputation was bad enough; he didn’t need this to compound the issue.
Bravely – or idiotically – she grabbed hold of Ben’s swinging arm before he could follow through and cl
ock the guy. “Ben, stop,” she said softly when he turned to look at her. “It’s not worth it. He’s the one with the problem. Not you. Not us.”
The anger in his eyes didn’t fade but, muscle ticking in his clenched jaw, he let Paul go. “You can think and say what you want about me; I really don’t give a shit,” he said pinning Paul with a stare that would have any sane, or sober, man paying close attention. “But you leave her the fuck alone and we won’t have a problem.”
Then he had no more attention to spare Paul as he took her hand and once again began to tug her toward the door. She held him off for a second as she turned to glare at Paul. “And just so you know? You’re a pale shadow of the man that Ben truly is. So why don’t you deal with that fact the best way you know how. Go have another drink.”
When they got back to Ben’s bike and climbed on, Emma could feel the tension running through his body, making him ridged in her arms. The roar of the engine as he started the bike blocked out anything she might have said, not that she knew what to say anyway. But she had to do something to bring him back down. Wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, she gently kissed the back of his neck.
He went completely still, so she did it again. Slowly, his body relaxed into hers and he brought one of his hands down to squeeze her clasped hands around his middle. Scooting closer to him, she wrapped herself tighter around his body and he started the bike out of the parking lot and down the road.
Instead of taking her back through town toward her motel, he seemed to be driving them farther to the edge of town. That could only be a good thing. She didn’t want him to drop her off yet and she didn’t think he should be alone right now.
