by Sandy James
“I told you. It’s too hot.”
“I believe I asked for one other thing.” Mustering up her courage, Mallory fit her hands between them, smoothing her palm over the front of his pants. His erection strained the front of his jeans, stretching the buttons on his fly. “Oh my. It appears you paid attention and got exactly what I wanted.”
“I always listen to my clients.”
“As much as we pay you? You should.”
He snatched up the small CVS sack that sat next to the donut box. Before she knew it, he’d shoved it in her hands and swept her into his arms.
* * *
While he normally loved trading witty banter with Mallory, Ben wanted nothing more than to get her naked, needing the skin-to-skin connection to prove this was really happening. The way she’d caressed his cock had him wound as tight as a spring, and the time had come to make her completely his.
He hurried up the stairs, heading straight to her room.
She hadn’t made the bed, making it easy for him to lay her on the sheets. Then he came down on top of her, stretching out as he pushed her legs apart with his knees to nestle his pelvis against hers. Tangling his fingers through her hair, he smiled down at her. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”
“Every bit as long as I’ve waited. So shut up and kiss me.”
Brushing his lips over her, Ben took his time, wanting this to last forever even as he wondered how he could possibly take things slow. Everything inside of him was screaming to get her clothes off and bury himself inside her as he’d imagined doing a million times.
No way. Mallory deserved a patient, giving lover. The woman was the kindest, sweetest creature he’d ever known. He’d make love to her. Slowly. Gently. Deliberately.
Even if it killed him.
Holding himself up on his elbows he stared down into her eyes. Such pretty eyes that sparkled with life. And passion. “You’re so beautiful.”
A blush tinted her cheeks.
“Doesn’t this feel great?”
“More than great,” Mallory replied in a breathless whisper. “Perfect.”
He shook his head. “Not yet, it’s not. But I’m going to make sure it will be.”
Pushing back, he crawled off her to kneel on the mattress. His fingers opened the first button of her shirt, the same one she’d worn to Chicago and slept in all night. A second opened. A third.
Mallory put her hands over Ben’s. “Wait.”
“Wait? Why?”
“Are you sure you want to see… everything?”
He cupped her cheeks. “You don’t need to be afraid.”
“But—”
He gave her a kiss full of everything that was in his heart—his passion, his desire, his need.
His love.
Ben didn’t stop to examine his revelation. Yes, he loved Mallory Hamilton. He loved everything about her, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. And now he needed to show her.
When he pulled back, her eyes searched his. She gave him an almost imperceptible nod.
Slowly he finished unbuttoning her shirt, then he spread it open, revealing a white camisole. He helped her sit up and shrug out of the shirt before tossing it to the floor.
To level the playing field, he jerked his own shirt over his head. It landed on top of hers. He ran his palms over her shoulders and down her arms, raising gooseflesh in his wake. Her skin was smooth and white as a china doll’s. Touching it was sheer joy, the type he’d never known before.
His own fault. Sex for him had always been by-the-numbers. A touch here. A caress there. He knew how to help a woman feel pleasure and bring her to climax. None of his lovers had been unsatisfied.
Yet as he made love to Mallory, he realized he hadn’t been truly satisfied. The time he’d spent with other lovers was like a fast-food meal. Filling and satisfying, but leaving… something wanting.
Being with Mallory was a feast of prime rib that he intended to savor.
He wanted this to last forever, but he also found himself in uncharted territory. Never before had his feelings been so entangled with his body. That separation was what had made all of his past affairs so cold.
After briefly clasping hands and then pinning her wrists to the sheets, he reached for the hem of her undershirt. As he tugged it up and over her head, she lifted her arms to assist him.
He didn’t look, instead doing his best to hold her gaze until the fear in her eyes slowly died. Only then did Ben allow himself to see what cancer had done to his Mallory.
The scar ran from under her armpit almost to her sternum. While the red stood out like a beacon against her pale skin, it wasn’t anything extraordinary. Just a scar, no different from any other. The only true difference was the significance of why it was there and what it could mean to her future.
Banishing his worries, he focused on easing her fears. He pulled her up until she knelt in front of him. He put his hands on her hips and nuzzled her neck, pressing kisses to her skin, loving her scent and the way she shivered. He trailed his lips downward, kissing her collarbone and the valley between her breast and the stretcher before touching his lips to the gentle slope of her scar.
Mallory threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged. “You don’t have to—”
Ben lifted his head and kissed her once. “Hush.” Then he brushed his lips over her scar.
She choked out a sob, so he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him. “What’s wrong?”
She wouldn’t answer him.
“The truth, Mal.”
“You aren’t repulsed?”
Easing back, he grabbed her hand and flattened her palm against the front of his jeans.
A gasp slipped out before she rubbed his length.
“I want you, Mal. I don’t give a shit if you’ve got a scar. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
“Kiss me. Kiss me and I won’t think about it.”
“Whatever the lady wants…”
* * *
When he kissed her, Mallory could forget her worries. All she could do was feel, and she wanted to drown in each sensation. His tongue tickled her lips until she opened up to him. The kiss made heat shimmer over her skin, swirling until it settled in her core and created a need she knew had to be fulfilled.
She fumbled with the buttons on his waistband and fly. They each gave up the battle until she was able to shove the jeans over his hips.
He broke away long enough to crawl off the mattress and peel the garment down his legs. He dropped his boxers and kicked off his socks.
He was built like an athlete. All muscle, not an ounce of fat. His pecs were covered with brown hair she was dying to touch. A thick, rather intimidating cock rose from a nest of dark curls.
Ben smiled as he snaked an arm around her waist and lifted her off the bed.
Mallory started to pop the button on the waistband of her khakis, but he pushed her hands away. “Let me.”
He quickly had her pants off. After he dragged her pink panties down her body, he bent down to take off her socks. Rising to his full height, he put his hands on her shoulders, held her at arm’s length, and stared at her. His eyes raked her from head to toe with a lazy speed that could only be deliberate.
“Damn,” he finally said.
She quirked an eyebrow, stopped by something in his tone. While she didn’t want to think poorly of Ben, that one word frightened her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That means I’m the luckiest man on the planet.”
“Make love to me, Ben Carpenter.”
“I love how bossy you are.”
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
He scooped her into his arms and set her in the center of the mattress before coming down on top of her again. “Damn.”
His skin was hot against hers, his body so hard—everywhere. “Damn right.”
* * *
Ben couldn’t stop a smile. He could hear the nervou
sness in her tone, probably the same anxiety he was experiencing.
How odd. Never once had he ever felt the kind of shaky anticipation that now held him hostage—almost like he was a virgin again, a sixteen-year-old who wasn’t quite sure what he’d find the first time he put himself inside a woman.
Slow, Ben. Take it slow.
He kissed her—a long, thorough exploration of her mouth as his hands wandered her body. While he tried to be gentle, he was afraid his weight might bring her pain back. If she put a halt to things now, he’d obey her wishes, but he’d probably be the most frustrated man in the universe.
Just to be sure he protected Mallory, he rolled to her right side. His cock rubbed against her thigh, making him groan against her mouth. Trailing kisses down her neck and chest, he tickled her pink nipple with his tongue. It hardened into a tight nub that he drew between his lips. As he suckled, her hands cradled the back of his head. Her moan made him smile against her skin.
He needed to touch all of her. His hand smoothed over her hip bone, then down her flat belly to rest on her mound. The hair there was soft and fine, and he combed it with his fingers before he slid them between her folds.
He watched her eyes as he teased and stroked, seeking the most sensitive part of her. When he found it, she dug her heels in the mattress and arched her back.
“Easy, baby.”
“Ben…”
He rubbed tight circles over the swollen nub. “Do you like that?”
“Yes,” she hissed.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Faster.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ben obliged her, enjoying her uninhibited response as her hips thrust up in a rhythm he longed to match while deep inside her.
A cry spilled from her lips as she strained against his hand. He slid a finger deep inside her before adding another. He captured her mouth, kissing her long and deep as she came. Only when her last spasm ended did he take his hand away.
After a few moments, she eased her mouth back and gave him a wan smile. With no warning, Mallory grabbed his cock.
“Damn.” Seemed like that was the only word he could use, but the feel of her warm fingers exploring his body rendered him nearly dumb.
Her thumb rubbed over the crown before she wrapped her fingers around him and stroked. “Damn,” she said in a breathless echo.
Ben fumbled for the bag she’d dropped on the mattress. The box was obviously sealed with industrial-strength glue, because it took forever to open. A string of condoms fell out.
“Let me,” she whispered, releasing him.
He groaned, wanting her hand right back where it had been.
Mallory grabbed a condom, tore the packet open with her teeth, and awkwardly unrolled the sheath over his erection. Each touch of her hands as she tried to figure the way to make it work was near to torture. A growl of need slipped out as she finally covered him completely.
Instead of lying back against the pillows, she forced his shoulders against the mattress. “I’m on top.”
Not caring if he made love to her on top, on bottom, or upside down, he did as she asked. Having her take charge made heat surge to his groin until his cock swelled unbearably.
She grabbed his erection, straddled his hips, and gently led him to her entrance. Slowly, deliberately, she eased down until she was impaled on him and he was buried to the hilt.
Ben dug his fingers into her hips, rocking up as he relished the tight heat of her body. After a few gentle thrusts, he set a hard, fast rhythm, hoping to hell he could hold back long enough to make her come again. As wonderful as her body felt—squeezing his cock as though she’d been made just for him—he was going to lose his normally steely control.
Mallory put her hands on his shoulders, leaning down to kiss him, her tongue wild as it sought his. Her fingernails raked his skin. The stinging sensation coupled with the softness of her body nearly sent him over the edge.
Thrusting faster and harder, he urged her to join him in the release that was building inside him. Just when he feared he would lose his battle, she threw her head back, closed her eyes tightly, and then cried out as her body clenched around him.
Ben buried himself deep inside her, letting the heat of his orgasm wash over him in waves that seemed never-ending. The thrill was even better because of the bright flush on her face and the way she hummed and rubbed her fingers against his chest.
Everything inside him thrummed, matching the pounding of his heart. “Damn.”
“Oh, Ben.” Mallory collapsed, resting her cheek against his chest. “You’re so eloquent.”
He grunted, wrapped his arms around her and decided if he died now, he’d die happier than he’d ever been.
Chapter Eighteen
Someone was banging on her front door, loud enough she could hear it the moment she turned off the shower.
Mallory grabbed the towel she’d draped over the shower curtain rod and wrapped it around her. “Ben?”
He’d been asleep when she woke up from their nap. After spending quite a while propped up on her elbow, staring down at him and remembering the wonderful way he’d made her body sing, she’d finally decided to take a shower and face the rest of the day. Tempting though it was to linger in bed, she had—as she always did—papers to grade.
She’d made a fresh pot of coffee and eaten a couple of donuts. Maybe Ben would get up soon and they could go out for brunch. She would’ve woken him up and asked if he wanted to shower with her if he hadn’t looked so comfortable.
The banging stopped then started again, louder. Someone was intruding on their peaceful Sunday.
“Ben?” She stepped into the bedroom to find him sitting up, running his hand over his sleepy face. “Did you hear the knocking?”
He nodded. “Who’s here?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not dressed for guests,” she quipped, tucking the towel closed and fluffing her hands through her wet hair.
He tossed aside the sheet, baring every inch of his muscular physique. “Neither am I.”
Mallory couldn’t help but stare. The man was a work of art. When her gaze fixed on his groin, his cock started to harden. She stretched an arm up to lean seductively against the door frame. “Is that an invitation?”
This time, the doorbell rang incessantly. Whoever was there wasn’t going away.
“Not now, but later? Most definitely.” He threw his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed his jeans.
She picked up his shirt and handed it to him as he pulled on and buttoned his pants. “Probably a delivery. Although I doubt they’d be that insistent. Most leave the package on the porch.”
“If it’s a salesman, I’ll send him packing. I can growl very effectively when I put my mind to it.” He gave her a no-nonsense kiss and headed down the stairs.
Mallory was just opening the closet door to choose some clothes when she heard raised voices. Having no idea what was going on, she snatched a long terry-cloth robe from a hook. After she dropped the towel, she shoved her arms in the sleeves and tied it closed as she hurried to the stairs.
Ben was standing with the front door open, hands on his hips as he glared at a big-breasted blonde who was gesturing so much with her hands, she could easily hit him. With bloodred nails that long, she’d do some damage if she got any closer. Was that a cigarette between her fingers?
Since their voices had dropped from a shout, Mallory couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their body language was easy to interpret. The blonde was pissed but good, and Ben wasn’t liking what he was hearing.
Taking it slowly, Mallory crept down the staircase. Fourth step from the top, the board squeaked loud enough to wake the dead.
The blonde stopped midsentence, shifting her gaze to Mallory. The hatred in those blue eyes took her breath away.
“So that’s her?” The blonde pointed the two fingers holding an unlit cigarette at Mallory. “That’s the whore you spent the night with?”
With a gasp, Mallory pulle
d the tie tighter and went to confront the enemy head-on. Theresa, no doubt. While Ben hadn’t told her much about his ex, Mallory was quickly forming her own conclusions. Years of dealing with parents from all walks of life made her a great judge of character. Although she hated to assume anything, she simply couldn’t see anything redeemable about the woman. For Ben’s sake, and Amber’s, she’d keep her opinions to herself and give Theresa a chance. That, however, didn’t mean she would allow the woman to call her a whore and think there’d be no response.
When she stood next to Ben, Mallory threaded her arm through his. “We have company. Did you tell her we were busy?” Leveling a hard stare at the blonde, Mallory shot her a cool smile. “And you are?”
“His wife,” she replied, jerking her thumb at Ben.
“Silly me. I thought he was divorced. That would make you his ex-wife.”
“C’mon, Mom. We should go.” It wasn’t until she heard the pleading words that Mallory realized Amber stood on the edge of the porch, one foot already on the steps leading to the driveway. “We were gonna go get lunch. Leave Dad and Mallory alone. Please.”
While she wanted to rub Theresa’s nose in the cozy little situation she’d intruded upon, Mallory’s heart went out to Amber. It was clear her mother didn’t give a shit whether she hurt her child, something else Mallory had seen far too often in her career.
How many times had divorced parents come to parent-teacher conferences for no reason other than to pick a fight with their exes? She wasn’t about to let Amber get treated like a prize in some tug-of-war.
Mallory pulled her arm back. “Look, Theresa…”
“I’m not talking to you.” She poked Mallory’s sternum with her index finger. Hard.
Had she still been hurting from the stretcher, Mallory would have been in agony. At least now it only felt like a sharp stab rather than a return of the torture she’d suffered the day before. She winced and quickly pulled her left arm protectively over her chest.
Ben’s roar was deafening. He grabbed Theresa’s wrist. “Keep your hands off her, Theresa. Or so help me—”
“What?” Theresa challenged. “What exactly will you do, Ben?”
