Her Leading Man

by Maggie Dallen

  “He asked about you.”

  “And? What did you say?”

  Meg shrugged. “I told him you were good—the same.”

  The same. The words stung more than Meg would ever know. Caitlyn knew her friend hadn’t intended to hurt her, but sometimes the truth hurt. She was the same. She was still working at the same dead-end job, living in the same apartment, watching the same old movies with the same group of friends. Nothing had changed in the past year.

  Except for Ben.

  Having a sexy bastard of a roommate was definitely new. And that kiss… Well, that had been a first in so many ways.

  That thought eased the sting just a bit. Enough so she could say, with only a hint of sadness, “So, Becca, huh?”

  Meg’s snort was totally unladylike and completely at odds with her angelic face. “Yeah, can you believe it? I can’t imagine what he sees in that skank.”

  Caitlyn could. Becca practically oozed sexuality and excitement. She had a loud laugh and a bawdy sense of humor. She was known to be a party girl, not exactly the type to sit at home on a Friday night knitting a shawl for an old lady.

  Is that what Robert had wanted all along?

  Of course he did. What man wouldn’t? Robert had made comments about her lack of passion. She believed the word “cold fish” had been used on more than one occasion. Teasingly, of course, but there it was. For someone like Robert—someone who avoided conflict like the plague—the real truth could be found in the teasing.

  Passive-aggressive piece of shit.

  She wondered how Becca dealt with his veiled insults and criticisms. Or maybe she’d never seen that side of him because she was everything he wanted—everything Caitlyn was not.

  * * * *

  Ben had fallen into an Internet suckfest.

  Like picking at a scab, Ben couldn’t seem to stop. It had started innocently enough. He’d just wanted to catch up on some work e-mails, and one of his coworkers had posted a picture of an office happy hour. He used to be a staple member of those work outings, but now that he’d exiled himself to working from home pretty much full time, he was no longer part of the in-crowd. So he’d looked at the pictures to see who all was there.

  And there she was, hanging off the arm of his partner and former friend, Alejandro. So it was official. They were a couple now. Fantastic.

  He still wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but soon he was looking at all of the pictures that his colleagues had sent from the past couple months’ worth of work outings, scouring the photos for a glimpse of her like some sort of junkie. She was in seven pictures. Whenever he found a new one, he got a jolt of renewed anger. The bitch had taken over his happy hour crowd.

  When he ran out of e-mails, he’d taken the ultimate plunge into hell. He’d followed a link to her Facebook page.

  He was still there, on her page, obsessing over every post and status update since the day he’d moved out, as though he could find the meaning of life in her chipper blurbs about yoga class. When the front door opened and Caitlyn walked in, Ben slammed his laptop shut with the exaggerated haste of the truly guilty.

  Caitlyn studied him for a moment, clearly surprised by his spastic reflex. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.” Perhaps he’d said that too quickly.

  She looked from him to his laptop and her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Oh my God, were you watching porn?”

  “What? No!” Again, too quick and his voice actually broke like he was a prepubescent teen.

  “Oh my God, you were.” Caitlyn’s face was the picture of horror. “Ugh, take it to your room, at least.”

  “I was not watching porn. I was—” Oh sweet Jesus, this was embarrassing.

  She watched him expectantly.

  “I was on Facebook.”

  There was a brief silence before she burst out laughing. At him. And somehow he didn’t mind. His own lips were twitching up at the corners as the sound of her amusement. He really had become addicted to hearing her laugh.

  “So glad you’re entertained,” he said.

  She wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry. You just looked so… guilty.”

  He shifted over so she could sit beside him on the couch. “Yeah, well, cyberstalking my ex is not exactly something I’m proud of.”

  She made an ahhing noise that should have annoyed the hell out of him. He didn’t want or need anyone’s pity. But when he looked over at her, it wasn’t pity in her eyes. It was understanding, and kindness, and… God, she was really hot. How was she single?

  She gestured toward the computer that had been unceremoniously shut. “Can I see?”

  He looked to her in surprise, but she was totally serious. Why not?

  He opened to Olivia’s photos and watched Caitlyn study his ex with the same small frown she wore when she was analyzing an intricate new pattern in her knitting.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  Ben gave a little grunt of agreement. It was funny how one’s view of a person could change over time. He was aware of the fact that outwardly, his ex was considered beautiful. He remembered thinking that when they first met. But now, after so much time—so many fights and lies and manipulations—all he could see was the harshness in her sharp features and the vanity of a woman who wielded makeup like a weapon.

  He pointed to one of the many pictures she’d posted of herself and Alejandro.

  “That’s the guy she cheated on me with.”

  Caitlyn’s nose scrunched up in disgust. “Ew, he’s a bloaty-faced, washed-up creep.”

  He let out a bark of unexpected laughter as he studied the picture of his partner. She had a point. He looked like the epitome of a Wall Street asshole.

  He turned to her then. “Caitlyn, those may be the sexiest words to come out of your mouth. To come out of anyone’s mouth.”

  She flashed him a small smile. “Glad I could help.”

  He shook his head. “I just—I can’t believe they’re actually dating,” he said. “Screwing around is one thing but, I mean, look at them. They look happy.”

  He thought Caitlyn wouldn’t respond, but when she did, her voice sounded strained. “At least they’re not engaged.”

  Panic set in when he glanced over to see tears swimming in her eyes. Oh shit. He did not do tears. “You okay?”

  She nodded and blinked back the tears before they had a chance to fall. She inhaled deeply. “I’m fine. Just surprised to find out my ex got engaged, that’s all.”

  The pained look on her face cut him like a knife. He had no idea what to do to make her feel better. Well, he had one.

  Shoving himself off the couch, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  He spun around at the door. “Go put on those comfy PJ’s you’re so fond of. I’ll be back in a jiff.”

  He came back ten minutes later to find that Caitlyn had followed his orders and was now curled up on the couch in the pale blue flannel pajamas that were boxy, unflattering, and yet somehow incredibly sexy. They made him think of wrapping on a birthday present that’s just waiting to be discovered.

  She looked up in question when he walked into the room, and with a flourish he produced two bottles—a bottle of wine and a bottle of whisky. “What will it be, madam?”

  “Whisky,” she surprised him by saying. “This day definitely calls for whisky.”

  “As you wish.” He gave a little bow before tossing a box in her direction.

  “Chocolates?” She sounded so surprised, like no one ever gave her impromptu presents before. He really was starting to despise her ex-boyfriend.

  He decided then and there that he would help her find her next boyfriend, someone worthy of her. They’d joked about it before, but now he was serious. It would give him something to focus on so he couldn’t obsess over Olivia’s Facebook statuses. He’d find her someone decent and caring….someone who treated her the way sh
e deserved to be treated.

  In the meantime, he supposed he would have to show her what she’d been missing out on.

  * * * *

  The whisky was good. Too good. The first glass had gone down slowly, but the second was disappearing before her eyes. As the drinks went down, the conversation went from the mundane to the silly to the absolute absurd.

  “No, I’m serious. If you could have a superpower, what would it be?”

  “Are we talking—flying? Becoming invisible, that sort of thing?” Caitlyn asked.

  Ben shook his head and took a gulp of his drink. “No, I mean, what quality do you possess that would be your super strength if everything about you got amplified.”

  Caitlyn’s gaze drifted to the ceiling as she contemplated her answer to a question that had stemmed from a lengthy conversation about the pros and cons of the recent rash of comic book movies.

  “I don’t know, I guess loyalty?”

  Ben made a buzzer noise. “Too boring, try again.”

  Predictability? Steadfastness? Somehow everything she came up with sounded too boring to admit. She gave up with a shrug and reached for her glass. “It’s official, all of my superpowers would be too boring for words. Maybe my superpower would be bore people to sleep—a superhero for insomniacs.”

  She gave a self-deprecating laugh at her own joke, but Ben was shaking his head in annoyance. “How can you say that? You are so far from boring it’s ridiculous.”

  Her heart gave a leap of joy at the compliment, even though she knew very well he was determined to cheer her up this evening. He’d probably try to convince her she was as beautiful as a supermodel soon. Still, it was sweet of him to say.

  “What about you? What’s your superpower?” she asked.

  He turned to face her with a surprisingly intense expression. “I’m serious, Cait, don’t sell yourself short. You’re the most interesting woman I know—you have interesting friends and interesting hobbies and interesting career goals and interesting…interests.”

  Caitlyn stared at him wide-eyed. “That’s a lot of ‘interestings,’” she mumbled.

  His eyes moved down to her lips and the atmosphere in the room shifted. The air between them was thick with unspoken words.

  “You’re also passionate,” he said.

  The word hung between them—a word laced with meaning. Caitlyn reminded herself to breathe. He was just being nice. For a self-proclaimed asshole, he was really very kind.

  “Not passionate,” she heard herself saying. Why, oh why, couldn’t she just accept the compliment?

  “Says who?” he asked.

  Caitlyn’s mouth had the good sense to finally remain closed. It was bad enough that she’d admitted to being passionless, but it would be horrific to admit that her ex had proclaimed her to be frigid and bad in bed.

  But the answer was obvious. Ben’s eyes darkened, and his voice was close to a growl when he said, “That man is an idiot.”

  Caitlyn opened her mouth to reply. Indeed maybe, or, amen to that. But nothing came out of her mouth. She watched him stare at her lips, his eyes darkening dangerously, and it was the most intensely hot moment of her life.

  He wanted her. There was nothing forced or kind about it. He was hot for her, and it was written all over his face. And, oh holy hell, she wanted him, too. Bad.

  He moved toward her with a decidedly predatory look in his eyes. When there were mere inches separating them, he said, “I am going to kiss you now.”

  Yes, please. But she didn’t say anything—she couldn’t. Her mind and body were frozen in anticipation and longing for this kiss.

  He waited for a half second, giving her time to back away or to cry out in protest, but nothing in the world could have made her pull away at that moment. Instead, she leaned in.

  His lips were warm and hard as they crushed against hers. She couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure as he pulled her into him so she was firmly pressed against his chest.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair as she lost herself in the hot, deep kiss. One of his hands was pressing her to him while the other moved to her leg. He stroked her thigh, moving higher and higher as his lips continued their assault and the heat between her thighs grew to an unbearable pressure.

  Oh God, it felt so good. She met his tongue with her own, and moaned in frustration when his hand stopped just shy of her aching center.

  His lips left hers to trail kisses down her jaw to her neck, and Caitlyn’s head dropped back to allow him full access. He slid his hand around from her back to her side so he was grazing the side of her breast, and Caitlyn froze.

  She couldn’t take the teasing caresses anymore. She thought she might explode if he didn’t touch her where she needed to be touched.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  His lips were against her ear; his tongue flickered out to lick her lobe. “Please what, beautiful?”

  She knew he was teasing her, making her say it out loud. Somehow the intimacy of it, of whispering what she wanted as he kissed and stroked her, was unbearably hot.

  “Touch me,” she whispered.

  A growling sound came out of Ben as his self-imposed restraint broke and the hand on the side of her breast cupped her full weight in his palm as he kissed her with a passion she’d never known.

  His tongue took full possession of her lips and her tongue as his hands touched her everywhere, moving over her breasts, her stomach, and at last stroking the hot and pulsing area between her thighs.

  She moaned with sheer, unadulterated pleasure at the sweet relief as his palm pressed against her. She bucked against him, long past a point where she had any control over her movements.

  “You want that, gorgeous? You want me to fill you up?”

  Her response was somewhere between a whimper and a moan, but the message was clear. Yes, yes, oh God yes.

  Keeping one hand firmly between her thighs, he used his other to unbutton the pajama top, slowly exposing her breasts to the dim light from the TV’s glow.

  She held her breath as the last button came undone and he pushed the cloth to the side. He had leaned back just far enough to take in her naked breasts, and the dark look of uncontrollable desire that crossed his face was nearly her undoing.

  “You are fucking stunning,” he said before dipping his head and pulling her against him so he could press his lips to each breast, dropping kisses until he reached her nipple, which he drew into his mouth and sucked. Hard.

  She cried out at the sweet, torturous pleasure and her hands moved to his head, pressing him to her. She didn’t want it to stop. He moved from one breast to the other, licking, lapping, and sucking until she was panting with desire.

  When he came up for air, he surprised her by pulling away and standing up. Before she could protest, he leaned over and scooped her into his arms like she weighed no more than a pillow.

  “I’m taking you to bed,” he said.

  It wasn’t a question, but there was a pause, a moment, when she could have said no. Instead she leaned into him and kissed the side of his neck, causing him to groan. The sound gave her a jolt of feminine pleasure. She was suddenly desperate to make him feel as turned on as she was.

  He took her to her bedroom and set her gently on the king-sized bed. He pulled his shirt over his head and unbuckled his belt, never taking his eyes off her.

  Her skin was on fire under his stare. She could feel his gaze on her just as surely as his hands. Dimly conscious of the fact that she was still wearing her faded old pajamas, she made a move to slip out of the top.

  She hadn’t gotten far before he came to her side to help. Pulling her into a half sitting position, he deftly yanked off the top, all while showering her with kisses—her shoulders, her neck, and breasts—trailing all the way down her belly.

  When he reached the top of her pants, he slipped two fingers beneath the elastic and tugged them off, leaving her ly
ing there with only her panties to cover her.

  Unexpectedly shy, she moved to cover herself, but he tossed her hand away and stood over her, devouring her with his eyes. “You are so fucking sexy.”

  Heady pleasure left her breathless. No one had ever called her sexy. Cute, yes. Sexy, never. A new boldness born from intense desire had her doing something she would never normally do. She allowed one of her hands to slide up her belly to cup her breast, fondling herself as he watched. His eyes narrowed, dark with desire, and for the first time in her life she actually felt sexy.

  A guttural growl escaped him before he muttered a string of curse words and fell on top of her. His mouth claimed hers with a desperation that thrilled her. He had lost control and it was because of her. She’d had this effect on him—the thought was dizzying, empowering.

  He kept whispering in her ear as he moved over her, telling her how hot she was, how sexy, how gorgeous. Every whisper only added to her heightening desire, his breath against her neck, the way his lips moved against her ear. The words themselves.

  His hands were everywhere and her own struggled to keep up. Outrageously needy, her hands tried to touch him everywhere at once—his broad shoulders, his toned back, the hard contours of his chest and stomach.

  “Jesus, Caitie, do you know what you’re doing to me?” he whispered as he slid off his jeans.

  She didn’t need to answer because he’d moved back to cover her with his body, and the hard length of his cock pressed against her was the answer.

  She moved to touch it. She wanted to touch it. But she hesitated. She’d never really known what she was doing down there.

  Sensing her hesitancy, he took her hand in his in a surprisingly gentle grip and guided her. Following his lead, she stroked him gently through his boxers. He sucked in air and let it out with a groan. “You’re a natural.”

  That made her grin, even through the desperate desire that had moved beyond aching to throbbing pain, begging to be eased.

  He shifted on top of her, and she moved so that his hard length was nestled between her thighs, so close it was unbearable torture. She rocked her hips up, pressing herself against him, urging him to do it. To take her.