Five Ways to Fall

by K. A. Tucker

  “I like your friends!” I holler, my shoes dangling from my fingertips as my naked toes relish the cool, wet sand along the beach.

  “More than you like me?”

  “Yeah, but that’s not hard.” I turn and begin walking backwards as I absorb Ben’s responding grin, perfectly visible in the light of the full moon. Maybe it’s the Jim Beam, but I’m finding it even more charming than usual tonight. In fact, the entire package—whore and all—has had me checking my hair in the mirror and sending little shocks of electricity through me the entire evening. Even with his shirt hanging out of his pants and his tie long since removed, the big jock looks sharp in a suit. I’m kind of glad he doesn’t wear one around the office all the time. It would be distracting.

  “Is that so? Is that why you’ve been all over me tonight?” he asks, his brow raised as if he knows some little secret.

  I can’t contain the bark of laughter. “What? You gave me a task and I like to overachieve.” It’s funny, when we first stepped around the corner and into a wedding scene, the only thing that stopped me from wrapping my hands around his neck and choking him was knowing my hands wouldn’t cover even half the span needed to succeed. But I quickly adapted to the situation and met a few of his friends—who I can tell I’d actually like.

  Especially that redhead, Kacey, the maid of honor. She’s got a wicked sense of humor. She kept her promise, spending a good fifteen minutes scrolling through her phone to show me “the best of the best” from Ben’s farewell party. Which turned out to be the “worst of the worst.” There were a few she wouldn’t show me, though, and I’m thinking they involved the strippers. I guess she assumes that, as Ben’s date, seeing pictures of Ben getting molested by other women would bother me. When I accidently caught the one of the Twinkie straddling his lap and my stomach twisted uncomfortably, I thought I might agree with her.

  When Ben leaned down and laid that first kiss on me right before the ceremony, I could have refused. I could have pushed him back and said no. But I didn’t. I went along. It was an unpredictably easy decision to make, especially after catching Mercy’s furtive and frequent glances over at him. I knew that if I strayed more than a foot away, I’d turn around to find her hanging off of him, trying to entice him with her bedazzled vagina or whatever it is the stripper has that lures in a guy like Ben.

  So I hung off him instead.

  And let him steal kisses.

  They felt more like borderline inappropriate tests than anything, partly because he knew he could get under my skin with them but also because he knows that, though I’ll never admit it, I’m secretly enjoying them as much as he is.

  “Do you think it worked?”

  “My pants are still on, so hell yeah. Saves me from an awkward situation for tonight.”

  “Just for tonight?” I sigh with exasperation.

  Taking five quick steps forward, he’s suddenly scooping me into his arms. I cringe at the squeal that escapes me as I find myself whirling through the air as if I weigh nothing. The shock only continues as Ben sets a perfectly timed kiss on my mouth as my toes touch the sand.

  I manage to break away from his lips, but not his arms. “You know she doesn’t have bionic vision, right?”

  “No, that’s not one of her talents,” he agrees.

  “Jackass,” escapes before I can stop myself.

  He offers me only a crooked smile. “What? I can’t help it. This is fun. You’re having fun, right?”

  “Yes,” I admit reluctantly, gazing up at the lines of his square jaw as my hands settle on his biceps. I really wish he weren’t so attractive. But then I wouldn’t have agreed to this, so . . .

  “Still friends?”

  “I suppose.”

  “And you’re not going to try to marry me because I kissed you a few times, are you?”

  “A few times?” I know my eyebrows are crawling halfway up my forehead. “You’re like a dirty little neighborhood boy who runs around, kissing the girls and making them cry.”

  “Only one girl today,” he corrects me as he leans in and steals yet another kiss—at least the twentieth tonight. “And I don’t see you crying.”

  I don’t know what it is about Ben. He’s as obnoxious as they come, but a small part of me, as idiotic as it is, is flattered that he finds me attractive, especially given that he could be with a stripper right now who I have to admit is drop-dead beautiful, silicone and all. One of those girls who makes you wonder if you should switch teams for a night to see what all the fuss is about.

  Then again, it doesn’t sound like there’s much of a pursuit there. That could be the problem.

  “Well, seeing as I’m seeking revenge on my ex-husband, I don’t think I have time in my schedule for a second unhealthy relationship. But thank you for being concerned.”

  His loud laughter carries over the empty beach. “Good. I don’t need any more women obsessing over me.”

  That earns a snort from me but his words provoke a new thought. “So when did you sample the Twinkie last?”

  Furrowing his brow as if in deep though, he offers, “What was it: Monday? Or Tuesday? I don’t know. All these days are starting to blend together.”

  “While the love of your life was on her deathbed fighting the flesh-eating disease and certain death?” I exclaim dramatically. I’m actually shocked he answered that so openly. That’s something a normal guy would outright lie about. I’m even more shocked that he slept with her only days ago, just after fooling around with me at his mother’s. I mean, I knew he had slept with her because, let’s face it, it’s Ben. But I was thinking this was something from the past. “You know you’re a dick, right?” I say as an unanticipated sourness stirs in my stomach.

  He shrugs. “It wasn’t my fault.”

  I almost stumble over my feet. “Did you actually just say that to me?”

  “What?” Serious blue eyes stare back at me. “I was half asleep in my room and she just showed up and took her clothes off. Then she climbed on me and gave me a blow—”

  “All right!” I cut him off, smacking his chest, my irritation spiking.

  “Hey, you asked and I’m big on the truth, so . . .”

  “Good, I’m glad you’ve retained at least one of your Boy Scout values. But we really need to work on filtering the unnecessary details.”

  He scratches the back of his head, a sheepish smile on his lips. “What was I supposed to do?”

  “Well, obviously you were supposed to sleep with her,” I agree with mock seriousness, breaking free of his grasp to reach down and grab the bottle of Jim Beam that he snagged from the bar earlier and dropped in the sand before scooping me up. Given I’m a last-minute guest at a pregnant girl’s wedding—and I showed up in a white dress—I’ve been good tonight, welcoming a nice, light buzz and nothing more. But now, taking a long swig, I accept that this enlightening little “romantic” walk with my slutty fake date will probably change that.

  “Why are you turning all moody?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Because I look like the moron who’s all kissy-face with her date, oblivious that he’s a whore and has probably slept with every woman here? Because being the blind wife who’s oblivious to her husband cheating on her for three months wasn’t enough for me?” I bite my tongue before any more deep inner thoughts tumble out of my mouth unbidden, but it’s too late. The damage is already done.

  I can tell by the sad puppy-dog eyes Ben’s settling on me.

  “Let’s go back to the reception,” I grumble, stepping around him. He’s having none of that, though. Roping his arms around my waist, he drops down to press his forehead against mine in a very friendly yet intimate way. In a way I didn’t think Ben capable of acting. The proximity to him is both comforting and heady.

  “She’s the only one here that I’ve been with. Well,” he cringes slightly, “Hannah, too, but just the one night and for like a minute. She was more into Mercy that night.” Oh my God! “And I’m sorry. I didn’t think about tha
t when I asked you to do this.”

  Digesting that rather graphic detail that I didn’t need for a long moment, I finally heave a sigh. “I guess my pride is just having a hard time getting over that mess.”

  With a devilish gleam in Ben’s eyes, he dives down—yet again—for another kiss. Only this time he doesn’t pull away quickly, instead coaxing my mouth open. In no time, my head is cradled in his hand, his tongue is tangled with mine, and I’m not refusing him. He really is good at this.

  And this is so easy. And straightforward and painless, because we both know it’s completely physical and neither of us is looking for more. And, oddly enough, I feel like we’re friends. Ben’s kind of like a kid I used to play in the sandbox with who’s seen me through my embarrassing gangly years and makes me laugh.

  Who is now making his intentions known by pressing them up against my thigh.

  He suddenly pulls away. “Are you actually jealous of Mercy?” There’s a pause, and then his eyes are twinkling as he lets go of me and starts unfastening his shirt buttons, the beginning of that solid upper body revealing itself. I’m not quite sure what he’s doing until the shirt hangs open and his hands reach for his belt, the dimples on his cheeks set deeply. “Because there’s no need. I’m more than willing to—”

  “No!”

  His hands pause, a knowing smirk stretching his lips. “You sure?”

  “No?”

  Ben’s head cocks to the side in surprise that matches mine. We’re left standing there, staring at each other as the water laps up on the shore, me wondering what that hesitation was. I’m sure he is too. Then I see his eyes start taking on that heated look, like he just realized that he’s about to get laid.

  So I turn and bolt.

  “Where are you going?” he hollers.

  The lights from his friends’ wedding shine bright up ahead. With a glance over my shoulder, I see him jogging toward me, seemingly unperturbed. He’s definitely not trying too hard. I’m not that fast a runner, though, so he’ll probably catch me before I reach the house.

  Fuck. And then what?

  Vagina exorcism attempt number two, right here? Contrary to what people say, rolling around naked in gritty sand is neither romantic nor comfortable.

  Houses line my left—all expansive buildings with big, beautiful windows and landscaped backyards lit up. All except the one . . . two . . . I visually count . . . the fifth one down from Storm and Dan’s. A few property lights on the side and front of this house are on, but the back lights are off and inside, it’s completely dark.

  And it hits me. An idea out of nowhere, of the mischievous variety that I seem to find impossible to ignore. Especially when I’ve been drinking.

  Running up to the property line, I hop over the low hedge, my bare feet silent against the soft grass beneath.

  “Reese?” Ben’s sharp whisper cuts through the quiet night.

  “Yeah?”

  A moment later, a bit closer, “Jesus. Please tell me you’re not about to rob someone.”

  I turn around to see him standing just outside the property, a rare look of panic marring his carefree mask. “I’m not a criminal!”

  “What are you doing, then?”

  Reaching back, I unfasten my zipper and let my dress hit the pavement, revealing the secret I had hidden beneath the thick white material.

  A “Jesus” escapes Ben’s lips in a hiss as his eyes graze over the matching red underwear set. I actually used to love the color, and this particular set was one of Jared’s favorites. I remember staring at it in my trash can for two hours before pulling it back out, way back when I first moved to Miami. The bra really does do wonders for me. “You know, there’s an ocean out there that no one owns.”

  “It’s too cold.” I fight a sudden rash of nerves as I unfasten my bra next. “Have you never snuck into a person’s pool before?”

  Covering his mouth with his hand as his eyes remain glued on my now bare chest, he mutters, “Not at a random multimillion-dollar Miami home.”

  “A random multimillion-dollar Miami home with no security and no signs strictly forbidding it. In my opinion, they’re asking for it.” Taking a deep, calming breath, I shimmy out of my panties, Ben’s eyes unpeeling themselves from my chest to shoot downward. “I knew you were a wuss.” The glass surface of the pool barely ripples as I slide soundlessly into the water.

  He purses his lips for a moment as if deciding his next move. “I’m not a wuss. I just don’t feel like getting arrested tonight.”

  “Wow. This feels so good against my skin,” I taunt in an intentionally seductive tone, trying to keep my splashes to a minimum as I sail across the span of the deep end.

  “Fuck,” I hear from the shadows behind me. And three . . . two . . . There’s a rustling of branches as Ben climbs over the hedge, tossing off his shirt. “Damn it, Reese. Mason was right. You are trouble.” I ignore the comment and watch in silent appreciation of his physique as his shoes and socks come off next, followed by his pants and boxers.

  Okay. I’ll admit it. Ben has something to brag about. I’ll also admit that I’m probably about to do something really stupid with him. And that little switch inside that’s supposed to kick in and make me care—I think it’s called morals or a conscience, or . . . I’m not really sure—well, it hasn’t done anything but sit back and enjoy the show so far.

  Ben slips into the pool on the other side much more quietly than I would expect someone of his size to sound. And when he begins wading over to me with intense purpose on his face, those dead butterfly corpses lying in my stomach—the ones Jared smashed long ago—begin fluttering like mad again.

  Ben makes me feel good. He makes me feel important.

  Maybe I do want this to happen.

  But I’m not about to make it that easy for him. With a small, giddy giggle, I push off the side and skim across the water until I’m on the opposite end. I manage this two more times but, with Ben’s huge arm span and strength, I soon find myself in a game of cat and mouse that has me caged against a wall with my predator’s hot breath warming my cheek and his broad chest pressed against mine, holding me in place. We’re standing on the slope down to the deep end, the water leveling just above my collarbone. “I feel like a fucking sixteen-year-old kid right now. Thanks.”

  “I liked being sixteen, so you’re welcome.” I’m having a hard time steadying my voice. I’m not sure if it’s due to the thrill or nervousness.

  Ben snorts, one hand sweeping my hair off my shoulders. “Why? Because you could only be tried as a minor?”

  “None of those charges ever stuck.” Damn, was I ever a pain in the ass to Barry. And Jack. I should probably apologize to both for the premature graying I must have caused.

  Resting an arm on the edge of the pool, Ben brushes a rivulet of water off my cheek with a fingertip. “If we get caught tonight, I’m the one who stands to lose. Do you even care?”

  “Oh, relax! It’s only a second-degree misdemeanor and there are no trespassing warnings. We can plead a misunderstanding and get off completely free. Unless you have a weapon, and then it’s a third-degree felony. How do you not know this off the top of your head?”

  “How do you know all of this off the top of your head?”

  I let him see my exaggerated eye roll and then reveal my little secret. “The owners are at the wedding. You remember that guy that looks like an older version of The Situation?”

  I watch him as he picks through his memory. He totally has no clue. “And the woman with giant duck lips and a big head of blond curls?”

  One big dimple appears as Ben gives me a crooked smile. “Yeah, I saw her.”

  Of course he did. “Seriously? This is their house?”

  “Yeah. And the twin boys hovering over the dessert table are theirs.”

  Ben pauses. “Well, what if they come home right now? And what about silent security alarms? Have you never heard of those?”

  “Trust me. Between the wife and kids asking abou
t the late-night buffet and the husband chatting up every stripper there, they won’t be home anytime soon. And . . .” I let my finger graze over the solid curve of Ben’s shoulder and slide down to his chest to toy with his nipple, “. . . I heard the wife bitching to him about staying relatively sober because the security company is coming at nine a.m. to fix the security system around the pool.” I give him a smug smile. “Because it’s not working.”

  Realization sweeps over his face. “Huh . . . So there’s no real risk of getting caught for this, is that what you’re telling me?”

  “Basically.”

  His chest rises and falls with relief and then he presses farther into me, his nose skimming my cheek playfully. “Well, this changes things.”

  “So . . . the water’s really warm, right? Better than the cold ocean?” I tease.

  He chuckles, his naturally loud voice crackling with the strain of trying to keep quiet. “Yes, otherwise we’d have a real problem here.” And by the feel of Ben against my stomach, we certainly don’t now. The next thing I know, Ben’s hands are diving under the water to wrap around the backs of my thighs. Lifting me, he guides my legs around his hips and then steps in to secure our position against the pool wall. With a free hand, he reaches up to grasp the nipple piercing, sending a current of excitement through me. “Have I already told you how glad I am that you kept this in? You’re not allowed to take it out.”

  “Jack doesn’t know about it, so I figured it’s okay.”

  Ben’s head falls into the crook of my neck with a grunt. “Can we not talk about the guy who will fire my ass if he ever finds out about this?”

  “Deal,” I agree as a hand curls behind my neck and his lips find my collarbone. I lay my head back against the edge of the pool, my breathing now coming in short, ragged drags. It’s been so long since I felt like this.

  “While we’re talking about hidden piercings . . .” As if afraid to lose the opportunity again, Ben wastes no time sliding a hand down my chest, my stomach, and down farther. A tiny gasp escapes me as he begins searching me inside and out.

  Another way in which Ben appears to be supremely skilled.