by Laura Ward
“We’ll get to that, Jules. But first I want to know how things went with your dad.” His fingers grazed along the side of my head and smoothed my hair back into place.
I released a happy sigh. Even though I was nervous and worried about what I’d overheard between Nate and Ben, relief was still the overwhelming feeling I had after meeting Jed. I was excited to tell Ben about him and how everything was different from what I’d always thought. Now, I had to measure my words carefully.
“It was so good. Turns out Nikki was lying to my father and me.” I relayed the story, telling him about Nikki and what she’d done. I told him everything about my father but omitted the details about how famous he was. I never even uttered the name Jed Jacobs. In my version, my dad was a married man who played music for a living.
Ben never asked what band my father played for—that wasn’t as important to him as my dad wanting to get to know me now.
Ben never even asked my father’s name—because to him it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that the man was finally stepping up to the plate as a father, and to Ben, the name Dad was as good as any other.
“That’s unreal,” he said, rubbing his eyes with his hand. “I can’t believe what your mom—”
“Not mom,” I interrupted him. “Nikki. I don’t care if I share DNA with her. I’m never calling her mom again.”
Ben ran his hand through my hair. He traced his fingers down my neck and over my shoulder, never losing contact with my skin. As he made a gentle path down my arm, the worry seemed to fade away. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. His fingers trailed up and down my arm, lulling me into a happy daze. “You deserve so much better.”
I caught his hand mid-stroke and tangled my fingers with his. “We deserve what we allow people to give us. I mean, I guess I didn’t have much choice when I was a kid, but I also let Nikki take advantage of me.”
“You can’t blame yourself, Jules. She’s your mom.”
I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “No. I think I knew for a long time she wasn’t my mom, or a mom. That’s why I referred to her as Nikki so much. Even when I was little I knew that a real mom was so much better than Nikki...even on her best days. Moms give hugs and make you feel better. They encourage you and lift you up. Nikki might have given birth to me, but she never did any of those things. She was just my guardian. And a shitty one at that.”
Ben grunted in response. “So what about your dad? When are you going to see him again?”
“In two weeks. He’ll be in town again and we’re having dinner. But he gave me his number and I have his email. He told me I could contact him any time...that he wanted me to.” I smiled at the idea that I could call my father up now any time I felt like it. It was a luxury.
“That’s great.” Ben curled his arm to pull me in tighter against him. His lips were gentle as he scattered kisses across my brow, along my cheek, and down to my mouth where he kissed me with intention, his lips caressing and teasing mine.
As much as I wanted to let him continue to give me warm, lazy, Sunday afternoon kisses until we fell asleep, we had other things to discuss. It was my turn to break up the lip-lock. He smiled against my finger as it separated us.
“Your turn. How did the show go?”
Although he kept his expression light and relaxed, his entire demeanor changed. There was stiffness in his shoulders that wasn’t there before, and a slight tick to the corner of his mouth that I was certain he wasn’t even aware of.
“Like any other Friday night. We rocked it.” He leaned in to kiss me and I dodged it.
“And the agent? Did he enjoy the show? Did he make you an offer?” I hedged.
Ben clenched his jaw for a moment, forcing an easy grin on his face. “Yeah. He said we’ve got a spot on the tour if we want it.”
“And you said yes of course.” My thumb stroked along the edge of his smile.
His arm snaked around my waist. He pulled me so close that I was nearly on top of him, one of my legs curling over his. “He told us to talk it over and give him an answer tomorrow.”
“When do you leave?” I tried to keep my voice light and upbeat, unaffected.
He rolled his hips into me, sending a shockwave of lust through my body. “We haven’t said yes yet.”
“But you will.” I thought about what Nate had said, and he was right. Touring was the opportunity of a lifetime, and I’d be doing Ben a disservice if I let him talk himself out of going.
His answering grunt was noncommittal. “I’d have to drop out of my classes for this semester.” His hand buried in my hair and he pulled me forward for a kiss. “I’d have to leave you.”
There was a fluttering sensation in my heart that was a little bit heartbreak and a little bit excitement.
“I’m not going anywhere, bass boy. I’ll still be here when you’re done chasing this part of your dream. That is, if you want me that long.”
He reached down to hook a hand behind my knee and pulled it high up across his stomach. When he rolled his hips into me, I felt him hard and eager beneath me. Tiny explosions of need detonated inside my body with each thrust of his hips.
“I’m in this thing for the long haul,” he said. “Is it so bad that I like my life the way it is? Is it so bad that I want to see where this thing between us takes us more than I want to see where the band takes me?”
White hot panic seared through my chest making it hard to swallow. What Ben said should have made me happy. Any other girl would be giddy to know a man wanted her to be part of his future and that he was willing to sacrifice things for her.
But that’s exactly what terrified me.
I didn’t want Ben to sacrifice anything for me. Because in the end, the only thing he’d have was a big pile of regret. There was no way I was going to take the place of his dream and not feel guilty about it. He might not mourn the loss of his dream right away, but he’d always wonder. And eventually, he’d blame me for allowing him to walk away. He’d blame me for ruining his band.
I would never be like Nikki and ask him to give everything up. I couldn’t ask him to stay with me before he even had a chance to experience what touring was like.
“You have to go, Ben,” I said firmly. “Don’t make me a mistake. Don’t make our relationship the reason the band loses out on this experience. If you say no, then no one gets to go on tour. This is bigger than you and me. You’ve earned this, but so have Nate, Marty, and Leo.”
Hearing his friends and brother named, his expression changed. “They want this chance badly,” he admitted.
“Deep down, I think you do too. It’s okay to be nervous, I mean it’s a pretty big fucking deal to go on tour.”
He chuckled. “Especially with Excess Wreckage.”
My mouth was dry. I didn’t want to lie to him and I didn’t want him to know who my dad was. Knowing what my father’s absence had done to me, I knew. I just knew that Ben wouldn’t do that to me.
“You didn’t tell me. That’s great news!” My happiness for him was genuine, even with the weight of the heartbreak I felt urging him to go. “Excess Wreckage is big time, Ben. You guys could have tons of great opportunities.”
His grip on me was softer. Sad. “I know. But all I can think about is that it won’t be nearly as fun without you around.”
“I’m a phone call away.”
“It’s not the same.”
My answering grin was real because it was freaking adorable when my bass boy was all sweet and clingy.
“But it will give us a chance to try out phone sex.” My hand slipped between us, stroking him.
He groaned in appreciation, his body pushing into my grip. “I should say yes? You want me to go on tour?”
No. No, I don’t.
“Yes.” My answer was calm and confident even though everything inside me was screaming the exact opposite.
His hand crept up under my shirt and every touch of his skin felt more precious than ever before. In just a
few weeks he’d be leaving. And as much as he might want to be with me, as much as he promised he’d come back to me, I knew that music had a way of shaping someone’s life and taking them places they hadn’t expected and giving them options they didn’t know they wanted.
My bass boy was going off to live his dream, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get him back.
I loved him enough to let him go.
I was not Nikki Prescott.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Julie
“I’ll call you tonight,” Ben whispered in my ear, hugging me close to him.
I shook my head against his chest. “No. Enjoy your first night on the road with the band. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Ben’s fingers found my chin and he tilted my head up to him. “I’ll”—kiss—“call”—kiss—“you”—kiss—“anytime I want.” He stopped punctuating his words with short kisses and took my mouth in a toe-curling, heart-stopping, panty-wetting, long lip lock.
“Ben!” Nate yelled from the bus, banging on the window. “Let’s go! Now!”
“Jules,” Ben’s voice cracked, and I feared what he was about to say. If he said anything close to the L word, I might lose it and beg him to stay.
I pulled away piece by piece until only our fingers were joined together. “Go. Have the time of your life, Ben. You deserve it.”
And I let go. Physically and emotionally. I felt a familiar wall of emotional armor rise up and grasp my heart, shielding me. Ben faltered, seeming to hesitate. But he turned back when Nate bellowed his name again.
I watched as he made his way up the stairs of the bus, cane extended, until I could no longer see him through the shaded glass.
“Goodbye, bass boy,” I murmured under my breath.
The bus rumbled to life, brakes squealing as it made its way down Route 1 toward the interstate. My feet remained planted like they were encased in concrete. I couldn’t force myself to walk away.
I lifted my hand in a wave goodbye as tears ran down my cheeks.
And for the first time since meeting my bass boy, I was truly thankful that he was blind. Because if he saw my face as I watched him drive away from me, I was certain he would be as gutted as I was.
He was gone.
And he took my heart right along with him.
***
“Hey, babe.”
Like clockwork for the past two weeks, Ben called me right after each show, claiming my voice was the first one he wanted to hear when he was finished playing.
“Bass boy. How’s it hanging?” My words were rough. I’d fallen asleep at a stupidly early hour. My partying days were few and far between after Ben and I started dating. Now that he was gone, they were nearly non-existent. I had no desire to head to The Shell since he wasn’t playing there anymore. And going to parties no longer held appeal because I wasn’t on the prowl for a man.
No parties, no bar, no nightlife. All that was left was…studying.
Blech.
Ben groaned into the phone with a laugh. “Don’t ask me about my dick until I’m in my hotel room.”
Through the other end, I heard the sounds of a busy street—horns blaring, cars speeding by, and the noise of multiple conversations. His voice was muffled as he spoke to someone on the other end. It sounded like he was saying goodbye. That was followed by a strange whooshing noise, and then silence.
I adjusted my pillow behind my head and sat up straighter in bed. “Where are you?”
A loud, sharp dinging sound echoed from his end. “Getting on the elevator. Leo walked me back to the hotel. The guys are going out to a bar, but I’m beat. I want to talk to you, and then sleep. Speaking of, did I wake you?”
“No.” I yawned loudly, and Ben chuckled. “Okay, yes. I was studying. Reading textbooks is like a magic sleep elixir. I don’t know how people do it. Is reading braille more stimulating?”
I heard the sound of a door clicking shut and a mattress squeaking.
“No, I wouldn’t say it’s more stimulating. But then again, I don’t have to do too much reading for my major. I’m proud of you. Studying isn’t your forte and you’ve become quite the teacher’s pet.”
“Let’s not get excited,” I said, laughing. “No one is going to mistake me for Hermione Granger.”
“True. Hermione needed a wand to do magic. You only need that wicked mouth.”
I grinned as I wriggled my way deeper into my blankets, my thoughts tripping over all the places on Ben that my mouth had studied. “You’re the kind of homework I’m happy to do,” I told him.
A deep appreciative sound was his only response at first. “God, I miss you,” he finally said.
“Me too.” We sat in silence for a few seconds.
The quiet was broken by the unmistakably beautiful sound of a zipper being pulled down. It was like music to my ears. My heart sped up as my imagination ran wild.
“What are you doing?” I asked coyly.
“Sorry, I’m getting out of these sweaty clothes.” Ben’s voice was muffled as he spoke.
“I like the sound of that.”
He chuckled. “I bet you do. If only you were here to do something about it.”
I sighed, realizing how he must feel in an unfamiliar hotel room by himself. I missed him too, but at least I could walk down the hall and see my friends any time I wanted to. I was lonely, but I wasn’t alone.
“Why aren’t you out at the bar with the guys?” I asked. “I don’t like the idea of you spending all of your time alone in a hotel room. You should be hanging out with the rest of the band. Partying. Living it up.”
As much as the thought of my man surrounded by girls in a bar or nightclub made me itch like I had a bad case of poison ivy, I trusted Ben. I wanted him to have no regrets when this experience was over. I didn’t want him to miss out on things because he was worried about me.
“Jules, I hear you. I do. But the bar scene has never been my thing. I told you that when we met. Parties are tough for a guy with no sight. I’m more of a one-on-one man.” The bed squeaked again, and he sighed. I pictured him climbing under the cool sheets, finally allowing his exhausted muscles a reprieve.
“You know what a guy with no sight is really fucking good at though?” Ben asked in a low voice.
“What?”
“Using his mouth and his hands. Want me to prove it?” His question was filled with all the naughty promise I’d learned to love.
“From thousands of miles away?” I teased, running my fingers along the neckline of my shirt. “That would be quite the feat.”
“You remember what my hands and mouth do to you?” he asked.
“Yes.” My response was more sigh than word as I closed my eyes, letting his voice caress me the way I wanted his hands to.
“Good. Because tonight my mouth is going to tell your hands what to do, yeah?”
“Tell me,” I pleaded, the begging tone in my voice asked for much more than words. My body was already twisting beneath the sheets, expectation making it impossible to stay still.
“I want you to do exactly what I say,” he said firmly. As gentle and kind as he was, he was clearly channeling his inner Christian Grey.
Oh hell-fucking-yes.
“What are you wearing?”
I dropped my gaze and lifted the blanket to peek at what I’d put on. “A cami and panties.” I trailed my hand down the center of my shirt and rested it on my belly.
“Good. Run your hand over your panties. Tell me what it feels like,” he demanded.
My fingers slid down until I was touching the edge that ran across my hips and finding the tiny, satin, decoration in the middle. “There’s a bow at the top.” I pushed my hand lower until I was palming myself over my panties, nails skimming the delicate fabric. “They’re thin and lacy.”
“Touch yourself like I would,” he said. “Long, heavy strokes.”
I followed orders, my legs falling open, my hips moving in tiny circles under the touch of my fingers. I closed my eyes a
nd pretended it was Ben’s hand rubbing me. My breath released in a slow moan that sounded pretty close to yes.
“Does it feel good?”
“You make me feel good,” I answered.
“I’m going to,” he promised. “First you need to get those clothes off. I want you totally bare.”
I put the phone on speaker and set it down on the bed next to me so I could use both hands to take off my cami. Then I shimmied out of my panties and tossed both to the floor. “Mmmhmm,” I murmured as I nestled into the soft sheets.
“Good girl. Are you naked?” he asked.
“Yes.” My voice trembled with excitement. This felt a lot more intimate than anything we’d done together. There was a whole other level of trust that went with phone sex. I couldn’t rely on his hands or body to make me feel good this time. I had to be confident enough to touch myself. And although from first appearances one might think I had enough confidence to launch a spaceship, I’d never masturbated for someone else before.
“Yes,” I repeated. “Are you?”
“I’m ready for you.” I could hear the greediness in his voice, the naughty tone that he only ever showed to me. “I’m always ready for you.”
“Then let’s get this party started.”
“Always so eager.” He chuckled. “Are you thinking about how I’d be touching you right now? How I’d be kissing your neck while my hand slid across your tits, thumbs brushing your nipples?”
My response was half groan, half agreement as my hands followed the direction of his words. My fingers feathered over my skin, the weight of my breasts settling in my palms as my thumbs rolled over the rigid peaks of my nipples.
“I wouldn’t be able to resist a lick,” Ben said. “I’d bend my head down and suck on one perfect nipple at a time.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, my fingers pinching and tugging as he talked about playfully nibbling and biting me.
“Oh God.” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard. “That feels so good.”
“So good,” he repeated, groaning. “I’d make it feel so good for you, Jules. I’d slowly drag my hand down your stomach, so slowly that you’d lift your hips, begging me to keep going until I finally slipped my hand between your legs.”
