Sensational

by Janet Nissenson

  And while Lauren didn’t have to be back at school for several more weeks, he knew that her parents were due back from their trip to Scotland and the British Isles within the next two weeks. And he had a very strong hunch that they wouldn’t be at all pleased to learn their daughter had a house guest – especially one who had barely enough money in his bank account to finance the rest of his trip.

  He’d tried on numerous occasions to buy groceries or take her out to dinner as a way to repay her hospitality, but Lauren had brushed him off each time. Instead, she’d been true to her word and heaped one chore after another on him – washing her mud-caked truck; feeding the three dogs – who always seemed to be hungry – as well as helping her take them for walks twice a day; doing the dishes after each meal; and helping her stain and seal the deck – a project she’d promised her father would be taken care of before the summer ended.

  But he still felt like a freeloader, especially since he knew the wine he was drinking now had likely cost thirty bucks a bottle, and that the steaks they’d grilled for dinner had been of a prime cut. He’d noticed over the past few days that everything in the house – furniture, linens, dishes, etc. – might appear simple and even bohemian at first glance, but upon closer inspection had proven to be of a very high quality. Even the casual clothing that was all Lauren seemed to own – tank tops, bikinis, shorts, jeans, flip flops – were largely brands that he recognized as being on the upscale side.

  And, unknown to Lauren, he’d done a bit of research on her parents, learning that Natalie Benoit was considered one of the great painters of her generation, and that her works typically sold in the five figure range. As for Lauren’s father, Ben had determined that Robert McKinnon had been a much sought-after architect up until his semi-retirement just a couple of years ago. Ben had also checked out some local real estate listings and figured that this deceptively simple, rather small cabin – albeit with its jaw-dropping views and surrounding property – was worth over two million dollars.

  Everything added up to the inescapable facts that Lauren’s parents were millionaires, and that her upbringing in the exclusive community of Carmel had been markedly different from his own rather dreary childhood back in Ohio. After his parents had divorced and then quickly established separate homes with new spouses and second families, Ben hadn’t even had a bedroom of his own, shuttling back and forth between two homes constantly and bunking in with one of his half-siblings. Money had always been tight, and he’d had to make do with the basics. He hadn’t even owned a cell phone or laptop until he’d started college, where he had worked three part-time jobs to pay for the expenses not covered by scholarships and grants.

  And he sensed that Lauren’s childhood had also been an extremely happy one, with parents and a sister who had loved and cherished her. He’d glimpsed dozens of photographs clustered around the cabin – on tabletops and bookcases, hanging on the walls – and each one spoke of a warm, close-knit, and very happy family life. Ben’s favorite photo had been one of Lauren and her twin, when they had been approximately seven or eight years old. Lauren had been wearing her martial arts gi – white pants and jacket with a purple cloth belt, and had been barefoot. Julia, who looked so much like her sister that it was almost eerie, even for identical twins, had been garbed all in pink – leotard, tights, a short wraparound skirt, and ballet slippers. Both girls were smiling broadly, their arms flung over the other’s shoulder, and Ben had realized that even as little girls they’d been gorgeous.

  He envied Lauren tremendously. Oh, not for the understated but still obviously affluent lifestyle she’d no doubt enjoyed all her life. No, he envied her instead for the loving family that she’d always had, the comfort in knowing that she was loved and cherished, and that she belonged – things that Ben had never really known in his own life.

  “Should I open another bottle of wine, or is it time to move on to the hard stuff?”

  He smiled as a now-familiar voice startled him out of his brooding, and he held out his arm, beckoning her close.

  Lauren wasted no time in snuggling up against his side, wrapping her arms around his waist as he hugged her in tight.

  “I’m good for now,” he told her quietly. “Still full from dinner actually. I’m not sure I could eat or drink another thing at the moment.”

  Teasingly, she pinched the side of his waist. “Yeah, you look like you’ve put on a few pounds. Good, because you were a teensy bit on the lean side for my liking.”

  “Is that right?” he drawled in amusement. He pinched her ass in retaliation, chuckling when she yelped in protest. “Well, sweetheart, every part of you is one hundred and fifty percent to my liking, so don’t change a thing, hmm?”

  She stood up on her bare toes, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a resounding smooch on his unshaven cheek. “Okay, boss. Whatever you say.”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Like you’d ever think of me as your boss. Or do anything I asked for that matter. You, sweetheart, are what’s known as a law unto herself. No one is ever going to be able to control you.”

  Lauren snickered. “One of my teachers used to call me a little tornado.”

  He shook his head. “Not tough enough. You’re more like a Category Five hurricane.”

  She laughed in delight. “Hurricane Lauren. I love it. Think the National Weather Center might name one after me someday?”

  Ben pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Absolutely. Though it can’t hurt to send them an email request.”

  They stood there for a few minutes wrapped in each other’s arms as they gazed out at the night sky. The moon, nearly full, was just beginning to rise, and soon the stars would all be out in full force.

  “So I guess this means we’ll need to wait awhile before dessert?” Lauren asked, her voice breaking the comfortable silence.

  He caressed the skin of her back, bared by the cropped halter top she wore. “That depends,” he teased. “If you’re the dessert, then I don’t think my appetite would ever be appeased.”

  “Hah, hah.” In retaliation, she bit down – a little too hard to be considered a love bite – on his earlobe. “Well, I’m always on the menu, Blue Eyes,” she murmured suggestively. “But for tonight I also made my specialty – actually, it’s the only dessert I know how to make – slutty brownies.”

  He quirked a brow at her. “I’m not sure if that sounds disgusting or delicious. What – exactly – are slutty brownies?”

  Lauren grinned impishly. “Well, it isn’t a dessert baked by hookers, if that’s what you’re thinking. To make them, you layer chocolate chip cookie dough – refrigerated in this case, mind you, ‘cause I do not make anything from scratch – a bag of Oreo cookies, a jar of caramel syrup, and then the brownie batter. Topped with more caramel syrup once they’re out of the oven.”

  “Jesus, I feel kind of nauseous just thinking about them,” he groaned, clutching his stomach. “Serves you right for cooking such a great dinner.”

  She shrugged. “It wasn’t anything special. Just salad and bread from the bakery in town and the steaks. And you did the grilling. I’ve told you before that I’m not much of a cook.”

  He slid a hand to the nape of her neck, massaging it gently. “And I’ve told you that just isn’t true. Granted, I’m not a picky eater but everything you’ve made so far has been delicious.”

  She’d surprised him – after her multiple and fervent warnings that she could barely boil water – by just how good a cook she really was. Granted, nothing had been fancy or complicated, and pretty much all of it in the way of comfort food – pancakes, grilled cheese sandwiches, fish tacos. Nothing had been too fussy – he didn’t think Lauren ever actually fussed over anything – just good, tasty food simply prepared.

  Lauren waved a hand in dismissal. “My mom and sister are the cooks in the family. If either of them had cooked tonight we would have had something elaborate like salad Nicoise, coquille St. Jacques, sole meuniere, and crème brulee.” She
wrinkled her nose slightly. “They both love all that very traditional French stuff. My grandfather was a chef, you know, first back in Montreal where he grew up and then in New York City. He’d be turning over in his grave right now if he knew I use spaghetti sauce from a jar.”

  Ben grimaced. “Well, he’d really have a problem with the ravioli I used to eat from a can, then. And all that stuff you just mentioned, with the fancy French names? I honestly have no idea what most of it is. I’m a pretty simple guy, Lauren, as you’ve probably already noticed. I don’t wear suits or drink expensive wines and I wouldn’t know gourmet food if it fell in my lap. So stop dissing your cooking skills because I’ve loved everything you’ve made so far.”

  “Really?” She beamed at him, the smile lighting up her gorgeous face. “Well, don’t get used to it, Blue Eyes, because tomorrow it’s frozen waffles for breakfast and that spaghetti I just mentioned for dinner.”

  He slid his arms around her waist. “Sounds a hell of a lot better than most of the meals I get these days. But you forgot about lunch.”

  Lauren shook her head. “Nope. But that’s a surprise. You’ll see tomorrow what I’ve got planned.”

  He gazed down at her warily. “You’re not taking me surfing again, are you? Because I’m not sure that’s really my thing.”

  She smiled before stretching up to brush a kiss on his chin. “Not surfing, no. And you did fine. I mean, you can’t expect to get the hang of it after only two days. I’ve been surfing since I was six.”

  In truth, he hadn’t done all that badly during the two surfing trips she’d dragged him along on, had actually managed to stay upright for a few seconds at a time. But he’d been intimidated by Lauren’s obvious expertise, not to mention the dozen or so male surfers who all seemed to know her very well, if the number of hugs exchanged and blatant flirting going on were any indication.

  Everyone, in fact, seemed to know Lauren. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told him that first day that she knew every innkeeper and park ranger in the area. She also knew the proprietors of the general store, bakery, coffee shop, gas station, art gallery, and the adventure sports outfitters. When they took the dogs for walks along the beach or a trail, everyone they passed greeted Lauren by name. And Ben had thought each and every time how wonderful it would be to have that sense of belonging, of community, of family – things that he hadn’t known since he was a small boy and even then not to the same degree that Lauren did.

  “The stars are all out now. But I always forget which constellation is which. Is that one over there Sirius or Ursa Major?”

  Ben glanced to where she was pointing. “Neither. That one’s Cassiopeia.” With all the years of backpacking and adventure travel he’d done, he had learned early on how to navigate using not just maps and a compass but the solar system as well.

  “Oh.” She shrugged carelessly. “Well, astronomy was never one of my strong suits at school.”

  “What was?”

  She scuffed a bare foot along the freshly stained deck before replying in a joking manner, “Well, I was tops of my class in P.E. After that – well, most everything else was a little challenging.”

  Ben looked at her quizzically. “What does that mean?”

  She kept her gaze downcast. “Just that I wasn’t the best student in the world. Things didn’t come easy for me.”

  He shook his head. “Now that I don’t believe. You’re one of the smartest, well educated people I’ve ever met and you’re only twenty years old.”

  Over the past few days they’d talked almost nonstop on a wide variety of subjects – ranging from sports to books to current events and world politics – and he’d admittedly been surprised by just how intelligent and witty Lauren was. Not so surprisingly, she had very strong opinions on just about everything, but was obviously well read and had a razor sharp mind.

  Lauren broke away from his embrace to prop her elbows on the deck railing, staring out at the night sky. “It’s better now. By high school, I’d learned how to deal with it, enough that I could get into a school like UCLA. But I had to work like hell, and even now it’s a daily struggle.”

  “What is?” Ben was becoming increasingly puzzled.

  She heaved a sigh. “If I’m going to talk about this, then I insist we break out the tequila. Wait here.”

  As Lauren dashed inside the house before he could question her further, Ben continued to ponder what it was she was so obviously reluctant to tell him. And he realized that this was the first time since meeting her that Lauren had seemed something besides her usual arrogant, cocky self. She’d appeared more than a little vulnerable, uncertain, and closed-mouthed, three traits he would never have thought of applying to her.

  “Here. Have a seat. I brought out the good stuff.”

  He turned just as she was setting a bottle of Gran Patron Platinum, two shot glasses, a salt shaker, and a bowl of lime wedges onto the glass-topped rattan coffee table. By the time he sat down next to her on the padded rattan settee, she’d already bolted down a shot and was refilling her glass.

  He didn’t bother warning her to take it easy on the booze, for he’d already seen –with disbelieving eyes – exactly how much alcohol she could put away without blinking an eye. She had certainly drank him under the table – not that he’d ever been one to overindulge.

  Ben licked the salt off his palm, bolted down the tequila, and then sucked on a lime wedge before asking her quietly, “So, what’s this all about?”

  Lauren was quiet for long seconds – quite possibly the longest amount of time she’d gone without speaking since they’d met. She didn’t look at him, and both her facial expression and her voice were uncharacteristically somber

  “Hardly anyone knows what I’m about to tell you,” she began haltingly. “My parents and sister, of course, my Aunt Maddy and Uncle Mal. A few teachers, doctors, therapists over the years. And, really, it’s no big deal, something that’s actually very common. But, well, I’ve always had a tough time admitting that – that I’ve got ADHD.”

  Ben knew how difficult making such an admission had been for someone as proud and arrogantly confident as Lauren. And, he realized, the knowledge of her condition explained a whole lot of things he’d picked up on over the last few days – her almost frantic energy and nonstop chattering; how she rarely sat still for more than a few minutes at a time; and how she could fall asleep almost instantly but at the same time rarely seemed to need more than four or five hours of sleep each night.

  He’d become aware of the latter the last couple of nights when she’d woken him up from a sound sleep around two or three in the morning, with his dick either halfway down her throat or already buried deep inside her slick, hot pussy. He wondered now if her voracious sexual appetite – no matter how often or how hard they fucked it seemed she was always ready for more – was due in part to her ADHD. And – God help him – maybe it was really, really shitty of him to be thankful for this potential symptom, but he was incredibly grateful nonetheless.

  He slid his hand over hers, stilling it before she could pour another shot – her fourth, by his calculations. “You don’t need another drink,” he told her softly. “And definitely not because of what you just told me. You’re right, you know. ADHD is absolutely not a big deal, and never anything to be ashamed of. And you certainly seemed to have learned how to cope with it. You’re at UCLA, and I know their film program is one of the toughest in the world to get into. Plus, I’ve only known you for a few days, sweetheart, but I already know you’re the smartest, bravest, and toughest person I’ve ever met. Not to mention,” he murmured, scooping her onto his lap, “the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

  Lauren snickered, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling in close. “You forgot sexy. And funny. And definitely,” she added, her tongue circling his ear teasingly, “the best fuck you’ve ever had.”

  He kissed her gently, his tongue exploring her mouth with slow, thorough licks. “You’re way, wa
y more to me than just a casual fuck,” he whispered. “And you know it. What we’ve had – there’s nothing casual or cheap about it. You’re the most remarkable woman I’ve ever known, Lauren – in and out of bed.”

  She smiled then, wriggling her tempting little ass against his rapidly hardening cock. “Well, duh. But, you know, I’ve had to work very hard at being amazing, and it’s always been a struggle.”

  He stroked her tumbled curls comfortingly. “How old were you when you were diagnosed?”

  “Five. But I’d imagine it was pretty apparent well before then to everyone around me. I was the ultimate wild child – climbing trees, jumping on the furniture, always getting into mischief. I’m sure I drove my parents crazy – especially since Julia was a little angel. She’d be having tea parties with her dolls and teddy bears, or looking at a picture book, while I’d be outside digging up worms or wrestling with one of the dogs.”

  Ben frowned. “Your parents didn’t – that is, I hope they never expected you to be more like your sister, or tried to compare the two of you negatively.”

  She shook her head firmly. “God, no! I’ve got the absolute best parents in the whole world – the best sister, too. None of them ever made me feel less worthy than Julia, or that I was damaged or inferior in any way. No, I managed to do those things all by myself.”

  “Lauren – ” he began to admonish.

  But she ignored his protest and continued to speak. “I always felt like I was disappointing my parents, letting them down. Everything came so damned easy for my sister, while I had to work three times as hard. That was why I always insisted we dress differently, had separate interests. I didn’t want people comparing me to Julia unfavorably more than they already did. After a while, I got real tired of hearing teachers grouse about how different we were, that it was hard to believe we were twins.”