He wasted no time proving that wrong, as he sank to his knees, unbuttoned her pants, jerked pants and panties down in one yank, then buried his tongue where he’d been rubbing against her, and sliding those clever fingers back up to play with her nipples through the now-damp silk.
“I can’t—”
“You can,” he murmured, kissing her, licking her, then sliding his tongue inside of her, making her cry out again as yet another wave washed over her.
She didn’t think she could stand upright as the pleasure cascaded all down through her again, making her vibrate with the force of it. “Ben—” Her knees buckled and he pulled her down, only so he could push her back onto the bottom bunk, splayed out before him in a tangle of half-removed clothing. Boots, pants, undies were all pushed off in a blink, and then he started his way up the inside of her ankle . . . with his tongue. And his teeth.
She was torn between grabbing hold of the bunk posts and letting him do whatever he wanted to do, perfectly willing to expire from an overload of orgasmic pleasure . . . and wanting to join the party in a more substantial, giving kind of way. Taking was good—oh, so very, very good—but she was a giver, too. “Come here,” she said, or rasped, as her throat had gone dry from all the gasping and moaning. She reached down and tugged at any part of him she could grab hold of. His shirt, his hair. Whatever it took to get all of him on top of all of her, as soon as humanly possible. “And you have way too many clothes on,” she said, tugging on his layers of shirts. “Fair’s fair.”
“I’m all about equality,” he said, and made short work of those, too.
Then she wasn’t in as much of a hurry to pull him back down, because she wouldn’t be able to ogle him properly. And dear Lord, there was a lot to ogle.
But then he was sliding his hands up her thighs, over her stomach, and cupping her breasts as he crawled on top of her and, well, there would be plenty of time to ogle him later. She also forgot about that whole giving part for the next ten minutes or so. Maybe it was twenty. She was too busy coming.
She was still shuddering, hips arching, all but jerking off the bed as he did things with his tongue and fingers that—“Oh!” she cried out, when he finally slid up on top of her, and pushed into her with one, long, perfect thrust. “Yes!”
He pulled her thighs up and she was already wrapping her legs around his hips. The bunk space was tight, keeping him low over her body as he drove into her, filling her, taking her. He took her mouth the same way, plunging, taking, taunting. “Fi,” he rasped, pressing hot kisses along her neck, their pace increasing as she began to climb all over again.
“Ben, please.”
He slowed, lifted his head to look at her. “Too much?”
She shook her head, pulled his mouth down to hers. “Too good,” she said, and kissed him as everything shattered once more. “You,” she panted when she could find words. “You.” She was still buzzing, her body still humming, and she wanted him to feel what she was feeling. She dug her heels into his back, lifted, and took him in deeper, tighter.
“Yes,” he growled, words punctuating his thrusts. “Dear, sweet—” And that was as far as he got. The rest was one, long, deep, guttural groan that vibrated straight down through every inch of her body. Her utterly, completely, and totally spent body.
He slumped down on top of her for a long moment, still breathing hard, his weight taking the wind from her, before finally being able to prop himself on one arm so she could breathe. She smiled into the curve of his shoulder, thinking breathing was highly overrated. She liked that he’d felt the same fierce onslaught of pleasure she had, that he hadn’t been able to control it or himself, either. She also liked that the proximity of the bunk overhead kept him curved tightly over her. She felt nestled in an intimate cocoon, and thought she could stay happily right where she was for the foreseeable future.
Her stomach chose that moment to growl.
He chuckled and pressed his lips against her hair. “I assume that’s a yes to dinner?”
She nestled in closer and he shifted to his side, tucking her into the narrow space between the wall and his big, warm body. “Only if they’ll serve it to us right here.”
He wedged his legs into the space, which was shorter than he was tall, and pulled her closer. “I’m liking your train fantasy.”
She laughed and kissed his chest. “You are my train fantasy.”
She could feel him grinning, as he tucked her under his chin.
She was tracing her fingers down along the very impressive vein that edged his biceps, when she said, “I’ve decided that I’m over being called Fireplug Fi.”
He might have been dozing, but he perked right up at that. “Honey, I can say, with sincere honesty and abject appreciation, that the very last thing your body makes me think about is—”
“Oh, I didn’t think that.” She sighed. “My body feels completely paid back, with interest, for every bad thing you ever made it feel.” She leaned back so she could smile at him and pressed her palm to his chest. “And besides, I’ve decided it would be hypocritical, since from now on I plan to refer to you as Big Ben.” She hooted at the wide-eyed look on his face. “What, you haven’t heard that before?” She looked down between them, then back up at him. “Seriously?”
She couldn’t decide if he looked adorably embarrassed or just plain adorable.
“Even better then,” she added smugly.
He tugged her back against his chest and wrapped her up perhaps a little more snugly than was absolutely necessary. “You know how I said in one of our many phone conversations over the past few weeks that the fact that we’ve known each other for so long makes the whole relationship-building thing that much easier?”
She was laughing and struggling against his bear hug. “And here I was just thinking that you were right. So, very, very right.”
He immediately released her so she rolled to her back, and he followed her right down, pinning her to the bed with a deep kiss that she instantly responded to. In fact, it made her previously completely ravished body begin to seriously reconsider the idea of forgoing the standard recovery period and digging deep into the reserves if it meant there might be more pleasure involved. Some things were worth the risk.
She was breathing heavily, and her body was already willing, if not entirely able, when he lifted his head. “So, when I tell you you’re right, is that the kind of reaction I can expect in return? Because, I might not always say it, but you happen to be right a lot.” She grinned. “Fair warning.”
“That,” he said, “was for being you.”
“Oh, well,” she said, wanting to make another joke, but there was this look in his eyes that made her knees go weak in an entirely different way, and her heart stutter even though she wasn’t doing anything at the moment but looking at him. “I’m generally pretty good at that,” she said, but it came out a lot more breathless and distracted than she’d intended. And he was still looking at her like . . . like a man who was thinking things and feeling things that she didn’t want to let herself believe he was thinking and feeling. Because she’d been thinking and feeling them a lot lately, too. Which was nuts, given the bulk of their “dating” thus far had been done by text and by phone. Though, as far as in-person catching up went, this had been pretty stellar. “Ben—”
“Let’s get dressed and drag ourselves to the club car,” he said. “Have that nice dinner, glass of wine.”
“Like two people having a normal relationship? And spoil all the fun?”
His grin flickered at that, but there was still all that emotion brimming up into his eyes. It would have freaked her out, except, secretly, it was pretty damn thrilling.
“Oh, I plan to spoil you, but I promise it will be fun.”
She sighed, completely unable to even form a comeback. “Okay.”
He laughed. “Now that I know you’re a complete wanton, you’ll be so easy to persuade when I want to get my way.”
She pushed him to his back, c
ausing him to almost fall out of the bunk, and ran her hand down his flat stomach and wrapped her fingers around him. “Oh, I think I can safely say I’ll have my share of way-getting in this relationship.”
He immediately let his head loll back. “Okay.”
She laughed. “Well, now that that’s settled, let’s go with your plan. I was thinking about bribing you to go get some sandwiches or something and bring them back here. But it would be wrong to waste food.”
“Why wasted?” he asked, taking a moment to refocus his gaze.
With her hand still wrapped around him, she lowered her hand to place a kiss there, too.
“Oh. Right. That.”
She smiled, and kissed him again. “Exactly.”
He leaned down to kiss her, then rolled her to her back and trapped her hands in his. “Well, in the name of not embarrassing myself and losing my new moniker so quickly after earning it, I vote for the club car and the restorative powers of a good steak.”
She leaned up and kissed him. “Deal.”
But instead of rolling out of the bunk, he lowered his head and kissed her again. Only it wasn’t the ravishing, claiming kisses that had come before. These kisses were deep, but . . . well, tender was the word that came to mind. And it wasn’t over quickly. He stayed there, and kept kissing her, until she was kissing him back, winding her arms around his neck, and feeling more cherished, more . . . cared for, than she had when he’d been wringing orgasm after orgasm out of her.
He lifted his head, framed her face, and every part of her thought he was going to say the exact three words that had been fighting to get off the tip of her own tongue for some time now.
Then her stomach growled again. And he kissed the tip of her nose. Then he did roll out of the bunk, and he dragged her with him. “Come on. If we don’t go now, we’ll be in Portsmouth before we get our clothes back on.”
She was about to say she didn’t really see anything wrong with that scenario, but she was too busy trying to convince herself that it was a very good thing neither one of them had let their emotions get the better of them or said things that they’d later wish they hadn’t. It was the holidays, and they were on a romantic and, as it happened, exceedingly erotic train ride. They’d been bantering each other into a frenzy of unfulfilled sexual need for days now. What they hadn’t done was come up with any real solutions or answers as to how they were going to sustain this new relationship they’d embarked upon.
So, the I love yous really needed to wait, at the very least, until she was sure they weren’t going to be followed all too soon by good-byes.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Hey there, boss man.”
Ben grinned as a tall, thin man with closely cropped, dark hair and vivid blue eyes pushed his way through the throng of people on the train station platform in Portsmouth. “Good to see you made it,” he said, giving Paul a quick one-armed back slap. “Hope the traffic wasn’t too big a pain in the ass. I appreciate your picking us up.”
“It’s holiday bonus time,” he said with a grin. “Of course I’m picking you up.”
Ben laughed. “I already gave out bonuses, so you can stop the brownnosing.”
“No way. The holidays, they roll around every year. I like to stay high up on the leaderboard.”
Ben shifted so Fiona could wedge in beside him. “Paul, this is Fiona McCrae. Fiona, Paul, the guy who has been keeping Campbell Landscapes from extinction while I’ve been chopping trees.”
Paul laughed as he reached out to shake Fiona’s hand. “I’d tell him to stop being modest, but he’s right.”
Fiona laughed at that. “I can see why you hired him,” she told Ben, then looked at Paul. “I’m thinking the leaderboard standings don’t change very often.”
“Oh, now what is this?” A short blond woman with big brown eyes and an even bigger smile wedged herself through the crowd and wiggled in next to Paul. “Are you sucking up again?” she asked Paul, elbowing him in the side. “Boy, offer to park the truck and this is the thanks I get.” She grinned and stepped in to buss Ben on the cheek. “Hey, boss. Happy holidays.” Then she turned and put her hand out to Fiona. “Hi, I’m Stephanie, apparently number two on the leaderboard, although we all know number twos try harder.” She batted her eyelashes at Ben while shaking Fiona’s hand, then stepped back and slid neatly under Paul’s waiting arm. “Whereas number ones still have to sleep on the couch on occasion.”
“Hey!” Paul protested, but Stephanie kissed a smile out of him.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and winked at Fiona. “We all have our evil ways, don’t we?”
Fiona grinned up at Ben. “I’ve found my people.”
“Lord help us all,” Ben said, then gave a mock wince when Fiona nudged him with her elbow. He slid her bag off her shoulders and gestured for them all to head toward the exit. “If we form a V, we might have a prayer of making it out of the building before Christmas.”
“Put the girls in front,” Paul said. “Something tells me we’ll make more progress that way.”
“Beauty before age,” Stephanie said, then tugged Fiona up with her. “We’ll keep the truck warm for you.”
The ride to Campbell Landscapes was filled with banter and laughter, and that mood continued as they arrived and he introduced her around to everyone. The catered lunch buffet got underway shortly after their arrival, with many guests arriving early. The mood was decidedly festive, and Fiona wasted no time in engaging herself in conversations and getting to know people. It warmed him immensely to see her fitting in so naturally. She had no problem mixing and mingling, and he often heard her laughter echoing from various parts of the room as he took time to speak to all of his employees individually, to thank them for all their help with the challenging circumstances. When he’d glance around to find her, she was always in a group of three or four people, and everyone was smiling and laughing, herself included.
Paul and Stephanie worked for him, but they had also come to be good friends, as were a number of other folks on his staff. Ben liked to keep the atmosphere at work upbeat, friendly, and the energy positive, and he hired—and fired—accordingly. He expected a lot from his employees, but he paid them well, rewarded them with bumps in income and more responsibility when they earned it, and let them know how proud he was of their work. He enjoyed what he did and wanted his employees to look forward to going to work every day as much as he did. Looking around the place tonight, he felt a deep pang of appreciation for them, for the trust they’d earned from him and given back to him in return.
Even though his tenure as farm chief had been brief thus far, he’d tried to engender the same feeling and camaraderie in his hiring of the seasonal help, and in dealing with the longtime employees, too. Despite a few personality bumps and an upended truck, he was pretty happy with how things were working out there as well. Jim had proven to be a godsend on the tree lots, pretty much handling them without much need for direction or assistance. Ben had noted there were two full-time employees in addition to Kearney, as well as a few of the part-timers, who had stepped up in big ways as well, which had been an enormous help in maintaining some semblance of control in the midst of the constant chaos that went on there every day during tree-cutting season.
“You know,” Fiona said, as Ben made his way through the crowd and slipped his arm through hers. “You have really great people working for you.”
“I was just thinking how very fortunate I am,” he agreed. “It’s made all this a lot easier.”
“Well, I think you can take a lot of the credit. Clearly they like working for you and they love their jobs. As a former employer of a fairly sizable staff, I know that’s easy to want but a lot harder to actually pull off. They respect you and they also like you a whole lot.”
“Well, thank you.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, then decided that wasn’t nearly enough and tipped her chin up to steal a quick kiss there, too.
She beamed up at him. “It’s so
mething I see at the farm, too.”
“You haven’t been to the farm other than that one time, and we weren’t even open for seasonal business yet.”
“True, but I have been at my shop, and your adjunct tree-selling business is right next door. Your employees there really love what they’re doing. I see how they go out of their way to engage with everyone who comes by looking for the perfect tree. They have so much energy and they really go all out. I love the goofy elf hats, which just adds to the vibe. They make it all look like it’s one big tree-buying party, but I know keeping that level of energy up in the cold and the wind and the weather isn’t easy. You’re fortunate, but you’re also a good boss. It shows.”
He didn’t know what to say to all of that. So he leaned down and kissed her again, although he might have lingered a bit longer that time. “I appreciate that,” he said with a quiet, private smile just for her. “And coming from someone who’s been in the business-building trenches, I respect it even more.”
“Well, you don’t seem to take it, or them, for granted, either, and that’s also a big thing. The morale here is really high. It’s great.” She grinned. “Of course, they’re all sugared up from the Christmas cookies and buzzed from the champagne punch, but still.”
He chuckled. “Did you get a chance to look around at all? I was going to take you on a tour before the party kicked off, but it took so long fighting the traffic getting here . . .”
“No, that’s fine. And yes, I have. I’m really impressed with the digs, by the way. I don’t know who did your design layout, showcasing all the different kinds of work you do with the various photo collections and displays, but it’s impressive.”
“Well, we do some indoor work, too, and I figured it wasn’t enough to have the grounds all done—which you can’t see because of the snow. We needed the interior of the offices to be equally designed.”
“I’ve looked at the photos you have up, both of the grounds here and some of the work you’ve done. I really never looked into your business before, but wow. It’s really impressive and so original. I didn’t realize you’d done such elaborate projects.”
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