by Vi Keeland
Annalise’s friend walked back over. “You two look cozy.”
“Now you come interrupt? Where were you five minutes ago when I had a temporary lapse of sanity and agreed to the crazy deal this lunatic just proposed?”
Madison smiled at her. “You need a good dose of insanity. Plus, we’re running out of stuff to talk about after twenty-five years of friendship. This will give us all new material for our weekly dinners.”
Annalise leaned over and kissed Madison’s cheek. “It certainly will.”
***
I’d wanted Annalise to myself from the moment I’d walked in. Not that I didn’t have a good time—because surprisingly, I did. Her friend Madison was a straight shooter, and her date was a decent guy, too.
But now they’d just said goodbye, and Annalise and I stood outside the winery, just the two of us, as they pulled away. The dirt that kicked into the air from the tires hadn’t even settled yet when I had her face in my hands. I kissed her softly at first, but I couldn’t stop myself, and it didn’t take very long before it turned hard and heated.
She moaned into my mouth, and I had to force myself to pull back before it was too late and I ended up fucking her against a tree for her parents to walk out and see.
I brushed my thumb over her swollen lips. “Come home with me.”
“I can’t.” She frowned. “I told my mom I’d stay over tonight. Tomorrow morning I take the ride with her to go deliver free bottles of the new season’s wine to some of her biggest customers. Matteo cooks a huge brunch, and all the pickers and workers come to eat. We started doing that the first year they bought the place, and it stuck as a tradition.”
That sounded nice, but I was selfish, so I couldn’t even hide my pout.
“Awww…” She stroked my cheek. “You look like I used to at Christmas when I opened all my new toys and then my mom made me put them away because company was coming over.”
I locked my hands behind her back. “I definitely want to play with my new toy.”
“I think we should establish a few ground rules anyway,” she said.
“Uh-oh. Rules always get me in trouble.”
She smiled. “I bet they do. But I think we need a few.”
“Like what?”
“Well, like I don’t think we should make it public at work that anything is going on between us. Not even to our friends.”
I nodded. “Makes sense.”
“And when we’re together outside of the office, no talking about work projects where we’re competitors.”
“Agreed.”
“Okay. Well, that was easy. You’re not usually so agreeable.”
“I also have a few of my own ground rules I’d like to establish.”
Annalise raised a brow. “You do, do you?”
“Yep.”
“Okay…”
“Unless one of us ends things before the expiration date, we’re monogamous.”
“I guess that was a given for me. But good, I’m glad you put it out there anyway. Anything else?”
“Are you on the pill?”
“I am, yes.”
“Then let’s get rid of the condoms. I had my annual physical a few weeks ago. Clean as a whistle. If it feels that good inside of you wearing them, I need to find out what the hell it feels like without.”
She leaned in and pressed her breasts against me, looking up.
“Bare…okay.”
“What time is brunch over tomorrow?”
“Probably by three.”
“Come straight to my house after. I’ll make us dinner and eat you for dessert.”
She looked up from under those long eyelashes and ran her tongue across her top lip. “What about my dessert?”
I groaned. “You’re killing me, Texas.”
Chapter 30
* * *
Annalise
I stood with my mouth hanging open, looking out at the view.
Since Bennett and I didn’t live far from each other, I’d assumed he also lived in a five-hundred-square-foot apartment and sacrificed space for the nice neighborhood. But West Hill Towers—at least the apartment I was currently standing inside of—didn’t sacrifice anything. His open kitchen and living room area was probably twice the size of my entire apartment. And when I looked outside my window, I saw the building next to me. Bennett had a million-dollar view of the Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge with the mountains as a backdrop.
He brought me a glass of wine and stood alongside of me as I gawked at the sight. “Umm… Do you rob banks on the side?”
The corner of his lip twitched. He lifted his wine glass to his mouth. “I’m too pretty to go to prison.”
“Sugar momma?”
He shook his head.
“Win the lotto?”
More head shaking. He could have just told me what the deal was. He knew me well enough to know it wasn’t likely I’d be letting the subject go without an answer.
“Rich parents? You do wear some expensive suits and shoes.”
“My father was a postman. My mom was a secretary at a law firm.”
“I know that on average, men tend to make more than women in the same jobs, but this…” I held up my hands toward his view. “…this would be a little insane.”
Bennett set his wine down on a nearby bookcase, then took mine out of my hand and set it next to his.
He hooked both arms around my waist. “You didn’t kiss me hello.”
“I guess I got distracted by the view.”
His eyes raked up and down my body. “I’m pretty distracted by the view at the moment.”
My stomach got that squishy feeling.
He leaned in. “Kiss me.”
I rolled my eyes as if it were a burden to plant my lips on this beautiful man, and then leaned in for a quick peck hello. Only when I went to pull back, Bennett tangled his hand in my hair and didn’t let me. My hasty kiss turned into way more than hello. Bennett’s other hand slid down to my ass, and he pulled me flush against him. I felt the prod of his erection against my belly.
Well, hello there.
He broke the kiss with a tug of my bottom lip between his teeth. I was breathless.
“Hi,” I said.
His mouth curved into a smile. He pushed my wayward hair behind my ear. “Hey, beautiful.”
We stared at each other, grinning like two goofy teenagers who just made out for the first time. Bennett used his thumb to wipe smeared lipstick from my bottom lip. “I had an accident a long time ago. Got a big settlement. Invested part of the money to buy this place.”
It took me a second to realize what he was even talking about. His kiss had left me dazed.
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. I hope no one was too hurt.”
Bennett handed me back my wine. “I better check on the pasta.”
While he went back to the kitchen, I snooped around. The floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room were the decoration in his apartment, so he didn’t need much else. His furnishings were nice, dark and masculine, and he had a gigantic curved-screen TV in the living room.
The only real sense of who Bennett Fox was had to come from his bookshelves. I perused the titles—an odd mix of political nonfiction, hardcover thrillers, and some well-worn comic books. There were four small, framed photos, two of which were Lucas—one in a soccer uniform with half of his front teeth missing in his smile, and one that looked more recent of him and Bennett on a boat. They seemed to have a very strong bond.
There was another of Bennett and an older woman on what looked like his college graduation day. I turned and found Bennett watching me from the open kitchen.
“Your mom?”
He nodded. “Graduate school graduation.”
I looked more closely at the photo and could see the resemblance. “You look like her. She looks very proud here.”
“She was. I went off the rails for a year the month I started grad school. Dropped out. I’m pretty sure she never expected I’d get bac
k on track and finish.”
“Oh, now I’m curious. I expect to hear more about that crazy year at some point.”
Bennett’s face turned solemn. “It’s not a year I’m proud of.”
Feeling the need to change the subject, I put the photo of his mom back and picked up the last frame. It was a girl, probably about seventeen or eighteen, leaning against a car and smiling. She was pretty.
“Your sister?” I asked, even though I remembered he’d once mentioned he was an only child.
Bennett shook his head. “Friend. Lucas’s mother.”
He’d said Lucas’s mother died a long time ago, so I didn’t push. Instead, I looked down and studied the photo. Her son looked exactly like her.
“Wow, he’s like her little mini-me.”
Bennett dumped water into the sink from a steaming pot. “He’s becoming a little wiseass just like her, too.”
I set the photo back down and walked to the bar stools tucked under the living room side of the kitchen counter to watch him cook.
“Are you any good?”
He arched a brow. “You tell me.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Fox. I was referring to your cooking.”
“My mother’s Italian, so I can make a few things. Growing up, she worked full time. When I was little, she would pre-make five different meals on Sundays for me to stick in the oven during the week since she worked a lot of overtime. I hung around and helped her. Eventually, she stopped having to spend a full day in the kitchen every weekend, because I picked up how to make some stuff and started to cook for us after school.”
“That’s sweet.”
“But my forte is dessert. I can’t wait to feed you what I have planned for later.”
And…that sweet didn’t last very long. Although I loved his unique combination of sweet and dirty.
When we sat down to dinner, it smelled delicious. My mouth actually watered, even though I’d eaten a full brunch not that long ago. I figured it would be good. Bennett wasn’t the type of man who did anything half-assed. But I hadn’t expected him to be modest. His spaghetti carbonara was out of this world.
“This is…orgasmic.” I pointed my fork at my plate after swallowing my second mouthful. “Madison would give you five stars if she ate here.”
He smiled, rather than gloat like he normally did at every opportunity. “Thank you.”
I got the feeling I might discover that Bennett outside of the office was very different than the man I’d gotten to know at work—different in a good way. And for some reason, that made me nervous. It was easier to imagine having a fling with the hot jerk I worked with. I didn’t need to find things to like about him, other than his body.
“So how were your deliveries this morning and the brunch?”
“Good. Except I was trapped in a car for hours with my mother, and the only thing she wanted to talk about was you showing up at the tasting last night.”
He grinned. “She has good taste.”
I sighed. “At least she’s stopped asking if I’ve heard from Andrew.”
Bennett’s fork had been on the way up to his mouth, and he froze. “Have you?”
“He sent me a text the night after we met for dinner at the hotel, but I didn’t respond, and he hasn’t bothered again.”
Bennett shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth. “Fuck him. Douche.”
I couldn’t help but smile. I loved how defensive he’d been about Andrew from the get go. “Anyway. How was your day?”
“Had trouble falling asleep last night, so I got a late start. Just went to the gym and then worked until right before you got here.”
“Do you usually have trouble falling asleep?”
He looked up from twirling his pasta. “Only when I have blue balls.”
That had been some kiss last night. “Couldn’t you just…”
“Jerk off?”
“Yeah, that.”
“Didn’t help.”
The thought of him pleasuring himself because of the effect I had on him gave me a burst of feminine confidence.
“Tell me about it. I slept at my mom’s. My hand doesn’t work half as well as my vibrator.”
Bennett dropped his fork with a loud clank. “Are you saying you masturbated while thinking of me last night?”
I gave him a teasing smile and nodded.
Five seconds later, I was up and out of my seat. Bennett tossed me over his shoulder, fireman style. “It’s time for dessert.”
I giggled. “But we didn’t finish dinner yet.”
“Fuck dinner. I’ll fill your mouth.”
***
“This is even delicious cold,” I said with a mouthful of pasta.
I had no idea what time it was, but the sun had long disappeared. We’d spent the entire evening in bed, and now we were passing a bowl of cold pasta back and forth while naked in his bedroom.
“You’re easy to please.” He wiggled his brows. “And I mean that in a few different ways.”
It did feel like Bennett had no problem pleasing me. My body had never been so responsive. Don’t get me wrong, I hadn’t been with that many men to experiment. In fact, I could count them all on one hand—including the man sitting next to me—but you’d think that after all the years with Andrew he’d have been better at pushing my buttons than a guy I’d only spent two nights with.
“Do you… Is sex always good for the women you’re with?”
He stopped with the fork halfway to his mouth. “Are you asking me if I’m good in bed? Because let’s face it, no guy is going to say no to that question, even if he needs a roadmap to find a clit.”
I laughed. “I just meant, is sex always like that for you?”
He set the pasta bowl on the end table and finished chewing. “You want to know if sex is always good for me because you’re not sure if it’s me, us, or whether that moron you wasted eight years with is just a useless dud in bed?”
“Sort of… I guess.”
“It’s all of the above. I haven’t had any complaints. But I enjoy a woman feeling satisfied as much, if not more, than satisfying myself. So I’ll put in the effort—watch her, figure out what makes her tick.”
“Oh. Okay.” I felt sort of crestfallen for some reason.
Bennett put two fingers under my chin and lifted so our eyes met. “You didn’t let me finish. But there’s a difference between good sex and whatever the hell happens when I’m inside of you. We’ve got chemistry, Texas. And no amount of paying attention or hard work can take the place of that. So, my answer is, yeah…I like to think sex has been satisfying for me and the women I’ve been with. But what we’ve got going on? No, it isn’t always like that.”
My heart did a little flutter. “Okay.”
He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “And to answer the last part of your question, you’ve been deprived, sweetheart. I don’t know much about douche boy, except that he was planning on using you and doesn’t like to go down on a woman who clearly enjoys it. And those two things are enough to tell me the dickhead is selfish, and yeah…he wasn’t good in bed at all. So you were deprived. Easy to please after that idiot.”
Bennett got up from the bed, and for the first time, I got a good look at his naked body from head to toe. His shoulders were broad and thick, his muscular arms sculpted even without flexing, and he had more like an eight-pack than a six. And I finally got a good look at the tattoo I’d seen peeking out that day in the office—IV II MMXI with a dark vine snaking around the letters. I knew the Roman numeral I translated to one and V was five, so five minus one would be the fourth month—April 2nd eight years ago. Obviously the date was important if he had it permanently inked on his body.
Bennett turned and picked up the bowl of pasta we’d shared, and I spotted a long scar running down the left side of his abdomen. It ran from under his ribcage to just below his belly button. His skin was naturally tanned, so I almost didn’t notice it.
“I need a drink,” he said, comp
letely oblivious to my following what felt like a trail of clues all over his body. “You want a water or soda or something? Wine, maybe?”
“I’d love a water. Thank you.”
I guzzled half the bottle when he returned. All that heavy breathing must’ve dried out my throat. We hadn’t spoken about sleeping arrangements, so I hadn’t brought any clothes. And I’d been up late last night helping my mom clean up after the party, and then up early this morning to get on the road for her deliveries. Apparently, my mind and body were in sync, because I yawned.
“I should probably get going soon.”
Bennett had one hand behind his head, casually lying in bed as if he were fully clothed rather than stark naked with everything on display. He reached out with his free hand and pulled me over to him, positioning my head on his chest. “Stay over. I know you’re probably tired. I promise to let you sleep. But we can shower together in the morning.”
I smiled with my cheek against his breastbone. “I don’t have any clothes.”
“You’re not going to ever need any here.” He stroked my hair. “In fact, I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet you’ll mostly be naked when we’re at my place.”
“I meant for work tomorrow.”
“I can take you home now to pick something up, if you want. Or if not, go home early tomorrow morning and get dressed for the office. I’ll go for a run while you do that so you don’t feel like I have an unfair advantage getting to the office before you.”
My head wanted to argue. It would probably be best if we just fooled around and didn’t start slumber parties. But my body was in total disagreement.
“I guess I could do that—stop at my house in the morning, I mean.”
“Good. Then it’s settled. I’ll set the alarm extra early for a nice, long shower.”
My body started to relax, and his seemed to, too. I’d been scraping my fingers along the smattering of hair on his chest, and I started to trace the scar on his abdomen. Bennett’s muscles tensed when he realized what I was doing.
I tilted my head to look up at him. “Is this from your accident?”
He nodded. “My spleen was removed. Ruptured from impact.”
