by Donna Fasano
"Good."
He seemed so pleased by her answer, and for some reason that made Chelsea very happy.
Ben reached up and loosened the top button of her blouse. She covered his fingers with her hand and waited until he looked into her eyes.
"I want you to know that... I'm going to try to enjoy myself," she said.
He grinned. "If you have to try, then I won't be doing my job."
"What I meant to say," she tried again to make him understand, "was... that I never have..."
His brows knit together. "You've never enjoyed yourself sexually? Well, that's not really uncommon, I think. I…"
She stopped him with an embarrassed and frantic shake of her head. "No, no. I'm trying to let you know that I've never... I haven't ever..."
It was no use. She couldn't bring herself to say the words out loud.
"You've never had sex?"
Ben's question was filled with a strange mixture of incredulity and wonder. He watched her closely, her averted gaze answering his question. This woman was an enigma to him. He kissed her gently on the mouth.
"It will be okay, Chelsea," he promised.
She's never been touched. The words rang in his brain, and he was amazed by how erotic he found them. Hugging her to him, he felt her tremble and knew that he'd have to take things very slowly. He'd be the first man to touch her body, the first to intimately explore the secret, seductive places that could bring them both such pleasure. And after all the things he'd learned about her tonight, he hoped he'd be the first man to touch her soul.
Chelsea's heart pounded against her ribs as she stood in the circle of Ben's arms. When he stepped back and started to unbutton her blouse, she marveled at how her skin began to prickle with a heightened awareness. He pushed back the facings of her blouse and sucked in his breath. Pride and delight welled inside her at the thought of causing such a visceral reaction in him.
He slipped her blouse from her arms and let it fall unheeded to the floor. His warm hands slid up her arms and over her bare shoulders. He ran his little finger underneath the rose-colored lace of her bra, and her nipples tightened into buds that strained against the thin, satiny fabric. She heard herself gasp, saw his satisfied smile, and her heartbeat thumped even harder.
He took hold of her hand and raised it to his chest. Fingering the buttons of his shirt, she was overwhelmed with the unspoken knowledge of what he wanted of her. A flash of trepidation shot through her. Could she answer his silent request?
With tentative, fumbling fingers she began to undress him. She had trouble with one stubborn button, but it finally popped free. Her shaky hands tugged the shirt over his muscular shoulders and down his taut, well-defined arms.
Heat radiated off his skin, causing peculiar emotions to race through her. The warm, clean smell of him made her want to move closer and bury her nose in the crook of his neck.
He unclasped the front hook of her bra, and as it slid to the floor, he bent over and kissed her shoulder. His tongue flicked out to taste her skin.
"You're so sweet." His voice was a husky whisper. "I want to taste you all over."
His eyes were filled with such passion that she felt a sudden urge to look away. Her gaze traveled over the curly hair on his broad chest. Curiosity got the best of her, and she reached out and splayed her hand there. The hair was springy and soft, and the feel of it sent jolts of heat shooting inside her.
She stopped suddenly, her fingertips directly over his heart. It pounded just as furiously as her own. Her gaze flew to his and again she could clearly see his desire displayed in his hungry green eyes.
"Oh, Ben."
At that moment she lost her heart to him. The man made her feel so beautiful, so desirous, so... worthy.
Her voice dropped an octave and she repeated, "Oh, Ben."
The words must have called him to action, because without knowing how, Chelsea found herself lying on the bed, stripped of everything except the building desire that left her feeling flushed and wanting. Ben slipped out of his trousers and lay down beside her.
He touched, kissed, teased, tasted, tempted, until she felt she would suffocate from breathlessness.
During the few moments that she could think coherently, she touched and kissed and touched some more. His skin was smooth as satin, hot as flame. The sound of his soft moans nearly drove her mad. The silky spot on his inner wrist brushed the swell of her breast. He slid his hand over the valley of her waist, the curve of her hip. And his lips seemed to trace every inch of her. She felt as if she were climbing higher and higher, but she had no idea of where this journey was taking her.
This new and wild experience was more than just a physical adventure for her. Ben was conjuring emotions in her that she hadn't even known existed.
She felt that she and Ben were alone on some high, never-before-reached precipice. They danced to an erotic, primal rhythm that she vaguely recognized as her own heartbeat. He twirled her, they dipped, spun, whirled and swayed. Until finally they glided too close to the cliff's edge and she tumbled over into a silent void of pure carnal sensation.
Chapter Six
The metal file drawer closed with a clank, but Chelsea continued to clutch the handle as her thoughts flew like a flock of cawing crows. The past two weeks had been like nothing she'd ever imagined. The days had been brighter and sunnier than she'd ever known them to be. Ben had been so attentive to her.
And the nights!
The nights had been filled with physical pleasures beyond her wildest dreams. As a lover, Ben was extremely generous. Each night, he revealed a new secret about her body that she hadn't known existed… which areas of her flesh were ticklish, which craved to be touched. He seemed to delight in the knowledge that they were discovering her sexuality together.
During one instance when her inexperience had impelled her to become timid, Ben had calmed her fears and assured her that pleasure should be part of their sexual encounter. He'd patiently explained his desire for her to remember her baby's conception as a happy and satisfying event. Chelsea grinned, remembering the lascivious smile that had curled his lips when he'd realized his description held a double-edged meaning. Because satisfied truly described how she felt after a night in Ben's arms.
He made her feel more feminine than a woman had any right to feel. After they made love… she'd tried hard not to use that term to describe what they did together, but there was no other description that fit… Chelsea wanted to stretch like a satiated feline, then curl contentedly and fall asleep tucked in his embrace. But she hadn't let herself.
Absently, Chelsea reached around and rubbed the dull ache in the small of her back.
No, she'd been very careful to get out of Ben's bed and go to her own room. Night after night, she would slip between the cool, empty sheets of her lonely bed and spend hours trying to fall asleep.
That first night he had asked her to stay with him. But she'd insisted on sleeping in her own room. She knew very well that she did so in order to protect herself. It would be very easy to fall prey to the sensuous gratification she'd found in Ben's arms.
The real and only reason they were together was a constant thought in her mind. They had sex each night so she would become pregnant; there was nothing more to their lovemaking than that. But she was still amazed by what all this pure hedonistic pleasure did to her emotions. As the days passed, her once rock-hard heart had become a soft and mushy place inside her. She marveled at the fact that this experience with Ben affected the way she saw the world.
Flowers looked more beautiful, trees appeared greener, the sky clearer, bluer, the clouds puffier. What frightened her the most was the fact that Ben had come to mean something more than he had before.
When she'd gone into this whole marriage deal, Ben had meant a father for her child… that and nothing more. But now...
She let the thought trail into oblivion, pushed it away, actually, too afraid to plant the seed, afraid the idea might sprout and grow. But despite
the pushing and avoiding, the idea grew nevertheless.
Are you in love with Ben?
The silent question floated through her mind, freezing icicles of fear inside her. Loving someone meant handing them the opportunity to cause her pain. She knew that. Her battered heart had experienced enough of it, and she was determined never to become susceptible again.
You are not in love with Ben Danvers, she sternly answered the question. What she felt was lust. Pure, unadulterated lust. That she could allow herself to feel. Lust was safe. Lust was controllable. Lust could be walked away from when the time came. She'd simply have to learn to ignore the emptiness that particular four-letter word left in the pit of her stomach.
The knock on her door made her screeching thoughts scatter.
"Come in," she called.
A chuckling May pushed into the office.
"I just had to share this with someone." There was awe in May's voice, and she brandished a tabloid newspaper as if it were a proclamation from the president himself. "Ready?" she asked, then continued without waiting for Chelsea's reply, "'Baby Born with Gold-capped Tooth.'"
Chelsea's brows pulled into a slight frown. "But, May, babies are born toothless."
"Not this one," May replied emphatically. "This article tells about a baby who was born with a full set of thirty-two teeth. And not only that, but one of those teeth was covered with a twenty-four-karat gold cap."
Chelsea forced herself not to smile at May's apparent gullibility.
"Maybe you shouldn't believe everything you read," she gently suggested. "I mean, have you ever known anyone in Kemblesville to give birth to a baby who already had a full set of teeth?"
May looked at her a moment, her eyes glassy as she thought about the question.
Finally, the older woman said, "Well, now that you mention it, no, I haven't. But I read an article in the paper about a woman who accidentally swallowed a penny while she was pregnant, and when the baby was born it was clutching a penny in its fist."
Chelsea couldn't hold back her laughter this time. "Oh, May, I'm afraid you're hopelessly trusting."
"Oh, speaking of trusting," May said, "I wanted to let you know that a lady from the nature center came and released the owl."
Nodding, Chelsea said, "I know that they kept the little fellow for a couple of days. His feathers had to be cleaned. But he was okay."
"Do you think he might have trouble with my chimney again?"
"He shouldn't," Chelsea said. "Owls are pretty smart."
"I worried that maybe he should have been taken somewhere else and let go." May raised one shoulder. "Maybe deeper into the woods or something?"
"Most likely he lives in a tree near your house," Chelsea explained. "It's the center's policy to release wild animals as close as possible to the place they were found." Suddenly, she inhaled slowly and rubbed at her cramping stomach.
"Are you okay?" May asked.
"Actually, I'm not feeling very well." Chelsea smoothed her fingers across her forehead. "I have a headache and my stomach hurts a little. Not to mention my back."
"Why don't you go on home?" May suggested. "I'm sure you don't have anything to do that can't wait until tomorrow. Go home and lie down. I'll answer your phone."
Chelsea nodded. "I think I'll take you up on your offer."
When she walked into Ben's house, she felt worse than ever. Her skin tingled all over and there was a tension in her stomach she couldn't define. Her head pounded and she wondered if she was coming down with some sort of flu.
She passed by her bedroom door, knowing perfectly well she should have gone in there to lie down. But something seemed to pull her toward Ben's room, and she crawled across his big, soft mattress and tried to relax.
The scent of Ben's aftershave clung to his pillow and she hugged it to her. She felt so achy all over, she didn't want to think about why the smell of him gave her such comfort or why being in his bed made her feel so close to him in his absence.
Why did she yearn for him simply because she felt ill? It was silly. Her brain just wasn't working right because of this bug or whatever that was wrong with her.
Questions danced at the edges of her mind, poking, prodding, making her head ache all the more. What would Ben think if he came home and found her in his bed? How would he react to the sight of her clutching his pillow to her aching abdomen?
I'll get up in a minute, she promised herself. I'll get up and go into my own room in just one moment.
~ ~ ~
"Chelsea?"
Ben softly closed the front door behind him. Aunt May had told him Chelsea had gone home earlier in the day because she hadn't felt well. He'd left the paperwork undone on his desk, the planned phone calls unmade, in order to answer an undeniable urge to check on her.
The setting sun cast gray shadows in the house. Ben walked on light feet down the hall, so as not to disturb Chelsea if she were sleeping.
He peered around the corner of her bedroom door and frowned when he saw the empty bed. The six-inch crack left by the partially open door of his bedroom revealed Chelsea sleeping on the bed, her knees drawn up toward her chest.
A worried crease gathered between his eyes. She must have been terribly sick to have gotten into the wrong bed. Chelsea was very adamant about sleeping in her own room… so adamant, in fact, that he'd felt a bit affronted at first.
Meaning to go to her to check for fever, Ben pushed open the door of the room. The hinges creaked and Chelsea stirred.
"It's okay," he assured her.
"What time is it?" she asked, sitting up and sliding to the edge of the bed. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."
"It's okay," he repeated. "I'm sorry I woke you. Don't get up. I only came to check on you."
"I have to get up," she insisted. "I need to use the bathroom."
As she brushed past him, he reached out and touched her arm. He felt relieved that her skin didn't feel feverish.
Standing outside the closed bathroom door, he heard the toilet flush, the water run, and then he thought he heard her crying.
He knocked on the door. "Chelsea?"
When there was no answer, he knocked again. "Let me in, Chels."
She opened the door, and even in the darkened hallway he saw tears glistening in her eyes.
"What is it? What's wrong? Are you sick?"
His anxiety over her obvious distress made him ask his questions one on top of the other, giving her no time to answer.
Her bottom lip trembled and he grasped her upper arms.
"Please, Chels, tell me."
"I'm not pregnant."
It only took him the span of one heartbeat to figure out what her simple, whispered statement meant. She'd started her menstruation cycle and she was disappointed that she hadn't conceived a child.
He didn't say anything. He only took her in his arms and held her to him tightly.
For some odd, unexplainable reason, he felt the smallest bit of pleasure that she hadn't yet become pregnant. But he hadn't time to even think about why before he was overwhelmed with a monstrous sense of guilt.
"I can't believe I feel so…" she cried softly against his shoulder "…let down."
"I understand," he said.
"I feel awful. All crampy and my back hurts."
Running his hand down the length of her arms, he suggested, "Why don't you take a quick shower and change into something comfortable?"
She nodded and went back into the bathroom.
He heard the water running as he fixed them a quick sandwich and a simple salad.
By the time she padded out to the kitchen, her freshly washed hair braided down her back, he had set the table and was just placing food on the plates.
"Oh, Ben," she said. "Thanks so much, but I don't feel very hungry. I just want to go to bed."
"No problem," he told her. "I can wrap this up."
He went to the cabinet beside the sink. "Here, take these." After he handed over the two pain-relieving tablets, he fi
lled a glass with water and offered it to her.
She swallowed one pill and then stopped to look at him. "You know, I should have seen this coming," she said. "I mean I've lived with this monthly curse for years now." She swallowed the other tablet. "Headache, backache, cramps. They show up every month, and I know what follows. I really should have realized what was happening."
Well," Ben said, "you've had other things on your mind lately."
Chelsea exhaled a quick, derisive breath. "You can say that again. I haven't thought of anything except getting pregnant. I'm afraid I'm becoming obsessed with the idea."
"Come on," he said.
As he led her down the hallway, he couldn't help but feel a little hurt by what she'd said. The thought that she was so focused on the conception of a child somehow made him feel less... human. It somehow took away from the fact that he was a flesh-and-blood man. It was stupid of him to feel this way. He realized it wasn't her intention to devalue him in any way, but he felt it just the same.
She paused at his bedroom door. "What…? Why…?"
"Silly questions," he murmured, guiding her on into his room. "You said that you have a backache. I can help with that. Lie down on your stomach."
She did as he bid and lifted her weight to make it easier for him to pull her loose-fitting nightshirt up to her shoulders.
"My hands are a bit rough," he said by way of apology.
"There's a bottle of skin cream on my dresser." Her voice was muffled by the pillow.
When he got back with the lotion, he saw that her nightshirt was in a rumpled heap on the floor by the bed. The sight of her slender naked back tied his gut in knots.
Ever since the first time he'd made love with Chelsea, he'd been awed… and continued to feel awed… by how sexually attractive he found her. The sight of her naked skin nearly drove him wild. The scent of her naked skin did.
He really hadn't expected to have such a strong physical reaction to her. Yes, she was pretty, what with her large dark eyes and long chestnut hair. Her cute button nose would catch the attention of any red-blooded male. But the effect she had on him was far more powerful than what he felt should be normal.
