At the end of the hall, she shoved her keycard into a door and tugged him into her room. They faced each other in the tiny entry hall.
“Twenty years.” He cupped her face, smoothing rough thumbs along her cheekbones and sending chills cascading over her burning body. “Let’s make up for lost time.”
He pulled her mouth to his, and when their lips touched, her desire exploded with a premature moan. She could feel him smiling.
“You always were easy.”
She gasped, and when she did, his tongue darted inside her mouth with a sweep and swirl. He tasted like warm beer and … something decidedly Ben. Cinnamon. Her head spun, spinning her right back to senior year, but only for a second, because he wrapped her up in much stronger arms and turned her toward the bed.
Scarlett gripped the collar of his shirt. All the while he kissed her, teased her with his lips and tongue, roved his hands along her back and bottom, pressing her against him.
He was better at this. So. Much. Better.
She moved her hands to his shoulders, her mouth widening against his. A very distinct bulge pushed against her belly, letting her know he was every bit as excited. It was hot, hotter than she’d had in a long time. So hot she was going to spontaneously combust if she didn’t shed some clothes. His clothes.
Dropping her hands to his waist, she yanked on his shirttails, freeing them from his jeans. Her fingertips brushed warm skin. Just one touch, and then she would rid him of his shirt. She shoved hands beneath the fabric and flattened her palms against the bumpy plain of his stomach, feeling him breathe. Still kissing him. Deeper. More frantic. Their mouths slid back and forth, up and down.
Ben cupped her breasts through her blouse, holding them, heating them, making her squirm.
“Faster,” she whispered against his lips as she scrambled to unbutton his shirt.
His breathy laugh warmed her face. “Do you have someplace to be?”
He traced tiny circles with his thumbs until her nipples hardened. “I want to be under you.” She pushed his shirt apart and over his shoulders, dropping her lips to his throat as he groaned.
God, he was sexy. She felt sexy, too. This stuff was so much better with age. She was surer, stronger, more deliberate. She owned her body and its crazy concoction of hot and wet responses. She loved every bit of it. Every bit of him.
“Wait.” She stepped out of his reach, catching her breath.
“What?”
She took him in, from glossy-curled head and bare chest to blue jeans and oxford clad toes. “I want a good look at you.”
He grinned and shook his head. “I’m not a showman.”
She stepped forward and unbuttoned his pants, but not before she snuck in a quick caress of his glorious abs again. “I don’t want a show. I just want to look. It’s been a long time, and you’ve … grown.” She shoved his jeans past his hips and then stepped back so he could lose the shoes and pants.
Standing before her in a pair of straining, gray boxer briefs, he was magnificent. “That’s nice,” she cooed.
“Come here.” He reached for her, drawing her in by the hand, laying a palm against her cheek and then raking his fingers through the hair at her temple. He kissed her, long and deep, until she felt boneless, liquefied by lust. “My turn,” he growled when the kiss was complete.
He lifted her shirt by its hem, slowly, tickling her skin as he went. She raised her arms, letting him finish the job, and when he did, she reached behind her to remove her bra. A finger touched her collarbone, tracing the dip of her throat, dragging along the center of her chest to the valley between her breasts. His breathing hitched, and she smiled, looking down, seeing what he was seeing. She was swollen, hard, so damn ready for him.
“Touch me, Ben.”
He traced fingers overtop her breasts, around the sides, brushing his thumbs over her rigid nipples. She shuddered and sighed. His lips pressed against her shoulder, while his hands continued to explore, and then he lifted one heavy breast to his mouth.
Scarlett tipped her face to the ceiling and shoved her hands into his hair, letting the passion consume her.
• • •
Ben savored the taste of her skin and the sound of her erratic breathing. He licked and sucked and loved every inch of her mouthwatering upper body. Dropping to his knees, he rolled his tongue around the shallow indent in her belly, guiding his hands to her soft hips, and then fumbling with the clasp on her shorts. All the while, she massaged his head and tugged his hair, sparking pinpricks of pleasure.
He pushed her shorts down her smooth legs, and for a moment simply stared at the silky pink underpants. He’d been in this position before with her, but he’d been a nervous wreck, undereducated and overheated. This time, he had patience and wisdom on his side. Gliding a finger over the soft fabric, he gently pressed against her until she moaned. His dick throbbed. Maybe he wasn’t as patient as he thought.
“Sit. On the edge,” he said, turning her so the back of her legs brushed the mattress. Before she did, he stripped off her underpants. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he breathed against her belly, and then his mouth was at her core, suckling at her gently.
Scarlett lay back, writhing. “Oh, God.”
Her knees bent, and he pulled her closer, loved her deeper, breathed her in.
“Right. There.” She pulled his hair until it hurt, which was good. The sharp pain kept him from coming undone, so he could take her there first.
She screamed, pressing against his mouth, squeezing him with her thighs. And then she was limp, lying naked on the bed, looking up at him with dusky blue eyes.
“Damn,” she whispered, and when she grinned, he couldn’t hold back anymore.
Ben grabbed a condom from his jeans pocket and dropped his shorts before he crawled on top of her. She was soft and hot and roaming his back with her hands, tracing the crack of his ass with her fingertips. He bit back words he wanted to say, some of them vulgar enough to make him think twice, others potentially desperate.
He’d been suppressing the fact that he still loved her for twenty years, but that didn’t mean he should do anything more about it than this. He was going to make damn sure he gave this his best effort.
He rose onto his knees and tore open the foil packet.
“I want to put it on.” She grinned. “I was always too embarrassed before.”
She was crazily brazen now. He liked that, liked that he knew her before she realized she had so much power. He could appreciate the woman she’d become, and the woman she’d become drove him wild.
She palmed his balls, slinking her middle finger to touch the sensitive skin in back, and he sucked air into his lungs on a long, low hiss. The tip of her tongue played on her lips as she rolled the condom into place. It was all he could do to maintain his composure long enough for her to complete the task. This was nothing like their first time.
He shoved a hand beneath her hips, raising her to meet him, and then he bent forward, pushing inside, stilling there as reality sunk in. Twenty years. Neither one of them was the same, and yet they still fit together perfectly.
Chapter Four
Three thoroughly satisfying hours later, Scarlett kissed him at the door, wishing she didn’t need a full night’s sleep to face tomorrow morning’s pitch meeting. But she did, and she had no doubt that inviting him to stay would lead to hours spent wide awake, making love. She sighed against his neck, breathing him in, happier than she’d been in years. And she wasn’t an unhappy person. Ben being here only proved something had been missing. She’d been using her career to compensate for a lack of intimate relationships, and it was so not the same.
“When are you finished with work?” he asked, slipping a hand into the split of her robe to rub her bare hip.
She placed tiny kisses along his throat and jaw. “Depends on my second meeting.
If it goes long, I’m screwed.”
His husky chuckle thrilled her, and she pulled his head lower for another kiss. When they finally came up for air, both of his hands were inside her robe, sweeping over her back.
“Should I leave a ticket at Will Call?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Good.” He smiled as he opened the door and stepped into the quiet hall. “I had fun.”
“Me, too.” She lifted her collar, covering the skin he’d exposed. He watched every move.
“It’s hard to leave.”
She laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
He backed away. “You sure you don’t want me to stay.”
It was tempting. He was tempting. Very tempting. She shook her head, and tightened her hold on her robe. “What I want and what I need are two very different things.”
“Fine. You can have your way tonight, but tomorrow night I’m going to have mine.”
The goose bumps didn’t disappear until he did.
Eight hours later, Scarlett stared across the boardroom table at a prune-faced man, the president of a very successful local restaurant chain they were hoping to land as a major client for the Orlando division. But, truthfully, she was only half-listening as her new marketing manager, Michael, detailed the services they could offer. She could’ve recited the pitch with him, word for word — it was her presentation; she’d trained him. And frankly, Michael’s delivery needed some work. Scarlett’s mind wandered, and she suddenly caught herself wishing she were back in bed with Ben.
Her brain contracted at the dangerous thought. A man never came between her and her career. Not her ex-husband, who’d thought she needed to open her own marketing firm so she’d make money faster and put him on the payroll. Not any of the men she hooked up with post-divorce. And not Ben. No matter how good he was in bed.
No matter how unreal it was he was here.
She straightened in her chair, reaching for the pitcher of ice water in the center of the table — anything to keep her focus sharp … and on work.
Gulping the sub-zero liquid seemed to do the trick, perking up her mind until thoughts of Ben were minimal — vivid when they appeared, but with plenty of work-related thoughts in between. Of course, that all went to hell when she looked at her phone to find his text message:
I can’t stop thinking about you.
She clenched her teeth together to keep from smiling and waited for the goose pimples to pass. Scarlett snuck a peek at her boss, Brad, who was across the table from her next to the perspective client. He was oblivious, his eyes practically glazed over as Michael droned on. She glanced down at the phone in her lap again, knowing she should ignore Ben. For God’s sake, she was in a meeting with a superior, a subordinate and an extremely important client, but the temptation to respond was too strong.
Inching the phone deeper beneath the table, she tapped a reply.
I know what you mean.
His response was almost immediate. Prove it.
She bit the inside of her cheek. How?
Tell me what you’re thinking about.
Her breathing accelerated as a detailed image of Ben naked came to mind.
Ur body, she typed, and in her head she could hear the sexy rumble of his laughter.
“What do you think, Scarlett?”
Her phone vibrated in her hand. She fought the urge to sneak a peek at Ben’s reply and instead blinked at Michael, trying to recall the direction of the conversation before she was distracted. “I think … um … well, I think … ” She was at a complete loss, unable to even attempt to cover. “I’m sorry. What were we talking about?”
Prune Face huffed. “Well, if this is the kind of attention and consideration I can expect from Pace Waterman, then it’s clear exactly how important our business is to you.” Sarcasm dripped from his carefully enunciated words. “Honestly, this meeting is a waste of my time.” He pushed away from the table and stalked out of the room.
What the hell just happened? Scarlett lifted an inch off her chair, readying to go after him. Pissing off a client … in front of her boss!
Brad glared. “Scarlett, what was that?”
Stomach acid burned the lining of her throat. Now was her chance to apologize for being distracted and ask exactly what she’d missed, but that rebellious streak reared its head again and rendered her speechless. She should be offering to go after him, smooth it over. But all she could think was that Prune Face was right. This was a waste of time. Shrugging, Scarlett averted her eyes from Michael’s pitying looks as Brad continued to scold her for letting her focus slip.
Then one by one the men stood to leave. For the first time in her professional life, Scarlett didn’t jump through hoops running after them. Instead, she sat there, weighed down by the events of the last ten minutes. She got distracted, damn near sexting in a meeting, daydreaming about Ben, which was very unlike her.
The phone vibrated again.
Alone in the room, she lifted her hands to the table and read Ben’s text.
Why think about my body when you can have it?
That was the million-dollar question, and it nagged her the rest of the day. She could have him for the next few months while she was working in Orlando, whenever he was in town. Last night and this morning the prospect of a fling seemed fun — just what she needed to spice things up for a while. But there was more to it, wasn’t there? Otherwise, she wouldn’t be so easily distracted by one man and one night of sex. She never had been before.
So what was she going to do about Ben? Ending it at one night would give her the best chance of getting her head back on track in the boardroom. She slouched in her desk chair.
It seemed like such a shame to give up something that felt so good.
• • •
Ben sat in the folding chair in front of his locker, staring into space. Yeah, he didn’t want to be here. He just didn’t care. The only bright spot in Orlando was Scarlett, and she’d be gone in a few months. Then what? Not to mention the road trips and weekends he’d be without her. Then all he would have would be this. He glanced around the buzzing clubhouse at the hyperactive pregame antics of the younger guys. He didn’t want this anymore. The time had come.
Jordon had called twice today, and twice Ben told him retirement was still his main thought when it came to baseball.
“And after?” Jordon had asked. “What exactly are you gonna do?”
The hell if Ben knew. He just wanted to be with Scarlett tonight.
That was the only thought that got him through nine innings of baseball. He didn’t even feel a buzz when the team poured out of the dugout to mob Jefferson after his walk-off hit. But he was a giant ball of vibration when he saw Scarlett waiting for him near the statue outside the players’ entrance.
“Great game,” she said as she walked toward him dressed in a ruffled black tank top and white loose-legged pants.
There were people around, but he didn’t care. He pulled her against him like he had the night before, as if he’d been doing it for years. It was as if his whole life flashed before his eyes — the parts with her, the parts without her — and he wanted her to stay. It wasn’t a practical thought, but it was a powerful one. And as they walked to the hotel arm in arm, his restlessness disappeared. Maybe he was crazy, because as the contentment grew, he knew he wouldn’t let her go again. He was too old not to see the second-chance opportunity, and too young not to take it. The question was, how to tell her without scaring her away?
“Your room or mine?” she said with a grin and bob of her brows as they passed through the lobby.
He held her tight in the crook of his arm. “Mine. I want to show you something.”
When he sat on the end of the bed, balancing his laptop on his thighs, and patted the empty space beside him, she e
yed him warily. “I don’t do porn.”
“Me either.” He grinned, holding out a hand to her. “Relax. It’s an article with some pictures I want you to see.”
She settled beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Pictures of what?”
“My place in Lake Placid.”
She lifted her head and looked at him. “You always used to talk about that. Remember how we used to say I’d be your marketing director?” She chuckled, and the soft sound settled his nerves. “Those were the days.”
“Yep.” He tapped the screen. “But it’s not a fishing lodge open to the public. It’s a private one just for me.”
She was quiet as she leaned closer to the screen. He watched her face for signs of approval.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“It’s better in person.” He tipped her face to his. “I want to take you there.”
She smiled, soft and warm. “I’d like that.”
Ben looked at the screen and clicked to the next picture. “I want to make love to you in this.”
• • •
Scarlett blinked at the picture, trying to clarify her thoughts and feelings. Ben had made his dream of owning a Great Camp on Mirror Lake a reality, complete with a boathouse, which as far as she could see from the picture, contained five boats — one with her name scrawled across the back in red letters.
“You named one after me?”
Ben’s fingers brushed the screen over the image of the wooden fishing boat. “She was my first. The rest of them pale in comparison.”
A wave of emotion rose from her belly, heating her face. She couldn’t stop the tears. What was he saying? She would’ve asked if she could’ve pushed words past the lump in her throat. All these years … Did he still love her?
“Scarlett,” he turned her face to his, “this might sound crazy, but I don’t want to lose you again. I want to be together.”
“We are together,” she whispered, still struggling to wrap her thoughts around the serious twist this unexpected reunion had taken.
“After today. After tomorrow. For as long as we want to be.” He slid his hand to the back of her neck and placed a sweet kiss on her lips. “Do you want to be with me?”
Whirlwind Romance: 10 Short Love Stories Page 31
