by Anna Sugden
She shifted, her gaze darting his way to check his reaction. “You know I warned you.”
“Yeah, you did.”
But the roughness in his voice suggested he didn’t mind what he saw, and the way he sank his hands into the mess with relish confirmed her guess.
“And you were so right,” he crooned.
As his fingers slid with hypnotic repetition through the strands, Ben leaned in close and traced a line of kisses from her temple to her jaw. Then he brushed his thumb over her chin to urge her to lower it, before he lifted up slightly from his seat and kissed both of her eyelids and the tip of her nose. At first, she had to remind herself to relax, to let go and enjoy his sweet seduction, and then bit by bit, she gave herself over to the sensation and adoration.
By the time he touched his lips to the corner of her mouth, his tongue darting out for the tiniest of tastes, Delia couldn’t help but turn in to his kiss, restlessness already building inside her.
He pulled back so he could look into her eyes. “Patience, sweetheart. We have all the time in the world.” He brushed her hair back from her face then reached for her hand, kissing each knuckle. “I want to get this right this time.”
She was pretty sure there was nothing he could do to get it wrong—except maybe to stop—but she took a deep breath and nodded.
“You deserve to be adored,” he whispered against her ear. “Cherished. Treasured.”
Each word blew a delicious warm breath over her ear and the delicate skin just beneath it. Her skin was so sensitized that she could hardly sit still.
“But I—”
“You won’t regret it. I promise.”
She wanted to believe him. Unfortunately, she’d never been a patient woman. She shivered and snuggled closer to him as he continued his hot trail of kisses over her ear and down her neck. This time when he reached her mouth, he traced his finger over curves of her lips and then replaced his hand with his lips. She gasped right into his mouth.
Ben stilled, his jaw tight as he lifted his head away from hers. She wanted to call out in protest, but it didn’t seem fair when he was trying so hard to restrain himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a few long breaths, his hands trembling as he braced them on her upper arms.
Finally, he pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re not making this easy. Trying to be gallant here.”
“I do my best,” she said with a chuckle.
Opening his eyes, he tried to frown at her, but it softened to a grin. “Then I’ll have to do the same.”
Without preamble, he bent his head and kissed her again, and she immediately decided that every woman deserved to be kissed that way. Sweetly. Coaxingly. Thoroughly. He sank into the softness of her lips as if finding a resting place, and when she opened for him and met his tongue with her own, he settled in as if he planned to stay. She definitely hoped he would.
By the time Ben pulled back far enough that he could look into her eyes, Delia could only stare back at him, as out of breath as he was. She’d never been kissed before. At least never like that. And she would never kiss anyone again without thinking of this man and this moment. She didn’t even want to kiss anyone else, ever.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
He paused to trace his thumb over her lips, now swollen and sensitive, and then ran the back of his fingers along the skin on her neck, already abraded by the surprising five o’clock shadow on his baby face.
“How did I get so lucky?” he asked.
Reaching up, she traced her finger along his jawline and then smiled. “You finally woke up and noticed me.”
“I must have been wearing a blindfold.” He shook his head and brushed his fingers over her cheek. “How could I not have seen you? Just look at you.”
“Maybe you were too busy trying to keep your job?”
“Look where that got me.”
He was trying to get a laugh, but she didn’t go for it. Instead of kissing her again, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and settled back with her, deep in the sofa cushions. She should have felt relieved. He’d given her an out, in case she wasn’t ready. That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? With a jolt, she realized that it wasn’t what she wanted. Not at all.
She cleared her throat. “Uh, Ben, why are you stalling?”
“I’m not stalling.” He wouldn’t look at her when he said it.
“What would you call it then?”
He shrugged. “I’m just...taking it slow. I told you there’s no hurry. It doesn’t have to be today. Or tomorrow. Or even next week...”
“Ben, do you, uh, still want me?”
“What?”
He looked at her as if she’d grown a third eye or told him she’d just seen Jimmy Hoffa at the local Target store. Maybe both.
“I asked if you want me. Do you?”
In some ways, she hadn’t needed to ask that question. She’d seen his hooded, glazed eyes, felt the rush of his heartbeat and brushed up against the more obvious sign of his desire, which he’d tried to shield behind the bulk of his sweater. But this was about more than physiological responses. Ugliness and scars were involved, and maybe he’d decided he couldn’t take on all of her baggage. She couldn’t blame him. If the roles were reversed, she might have chosen the same thing.
He tilted his head to the side. “Is that a trick question?”
She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “It’s not funny.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t know how you could ask that question. Of course I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone.” He met her gaze steadily. “So much that I can’t think of anything else.”
“Then why aren’t you...you know?”
“Because you can’t even say it, Delia. You’re not ready for this, sweetheart.”
“But I am.” She held her hands wide. “Those words. They’re just words. Loaded ones for sure, but that’s all. I’ll talk to someone about all of this. I promise. I really want to work through these things so I can at least make peace with them.”
“Maybe it’s just too soon.”
“This isn’t exactly...our first rodeo.”
He shook his head definitively. “It doesn’t matter. That happened before I knew everything you went through. I would never do anything to hurt you. Or frighten you. Or make you feel anything less than perfect.”
“I know.”
But instead of tying up her hair and readjusting her clothes as he probably expected her to, Delia turned to him and slipped her cardigan sweater off her shoulders. Ben didn’t say anything, but he didn’t look away, either. Then her fingers moved to the top button on her blouse. With hands that were far less steady than she would have preferred, she undid the first few buttons. Her new lacy pink bra peeked out the top.
It wasn’t until Ben swallowed so hard that she could see his Adam’s apple shift that Delia understood why she’d purchased the bra in the first place, why she’d begun wearing it when she might see him. It was impossible not to feel desirable when she saw herself through his eyes.
“Delia, you don’t have to do this, tonight or any other night.”
“I know that.”
“If, at any time, you decide you want to call it off—”
“I know you would.”
When he didn’t say anything else, she reached for his hand and guided it to the upper swell of her breast, just over her heart. He stared at his hand, but he didn’t move it. Delia held her breath, waiting. Finally, when his hand shifted, and he appeared to be pulling away, she said the only two things that could make him change his mind.
“I know I can trust you because you’re you. Now please—” she paused, willing the words to come “—make love to me.”
Though the words were foreign and uncomfortable, she felt bolstered in being able to say them. More importantly, now she knew with absolute certainty that she was ready. They must have been magic words for Ben as well because he stood and reached out a hand to her.
Without hesitation, Delia rested her hand in his, and he helped her stand up.
He led her down the hallway, but stopped suddenly when he came to three darkened doorways. “Uh, which way?”
She pointed to the room straight ahead, and before she knew what was happening, he reached behind her knees and shoulders and gathered her into his arms. It was so precious, so romantic, as he carried her through the doorway...until he whacked her head soundly on the door frame.
* * *
BEN SHOOK HIS head in the darkness as the woman in his arms tittered like a child with a secret while she rubbed her head.
“Oh man, that hurts.”
So much for making this a perfect night for her. He tightened his arms around Delia to keep from dropping her.
“Well, that didn’t go the way I envisioned it. Sorry about that.” He paused to rub the tiny bump forming at her crown. “It looks a lot easier in the movies.”
“Been watching Richard Gere pulling off that scene in An Officer and a Gentleman?”
“Maybe I’d better watch it again.”
“You’d better be more careful, too,” she said, still chuckling. “I carry a gun, you know.”
“Thanks for the reminder. Now, hush, or I’ll drop you on the floor. Not intentionally, of course.”
He couldn’t help grinning as he slowly carried her toward the shadow that had to be the bed. As nervous as she had to be, she was trying to make this easier on him. Did he really think he could erase years of scars for her with one perfect night? Talk about performance anxiety. And he’d thought facing armed suspects at the bank had been nerve-racking.
He carefully lowered her feet to the floor. When she sat on the mattress, he took a seat next to her, not too close, but not too far, either. He patted his hands across the bedside table until he located the lamp and then fumbled for the switch.
In the soft light that suddenly filled the room, Delia chewed her lip, glancing sidelong at him. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
He grinned at her. “We’re a pair, aren’t we? I’d like to be real smooth here, but it’s not working out that well.”
“You don’t need to be smooth for me. Just be you.”
He swallowed. Once again, she was making him more comfortable when it should have been the other way around.
Shifting closer to her, he rested his head on her shoulder and surveyed the sparse room around him. Her bedroom was as barren as the rest of the house. Empty walls. No knickknacks. The whole place had a transient feel to it, a reminder that she’d never intended to stay too long.
Ben pushed aside the emptiness that even the thought of her leaving brought to him. He couldn’t think about that now. With all that was going on in his life, it wasn’t as if he had the luxury of planning for the future anyway. He might not even have a future. Nothing to offer anyone.
Delia moved next to him. “Would you mind if we turned the light off? I’m feeling a little awkward.”
“After everything we’ve talked about, now you feel awkward?” He smiled at her profile until finally the side of her mouth lifted.
“I suppose that’s fair.”
Lifting his hand, he brushed his thumb back and forth along her cheek. “You have no idea how beautiful you are. You can’t possibly see what I see, or you would want to not only leave the light on, but also open the curtains.”
Her shoulders twitched as she chuckled. “How about we don’t do that?”
“So just the light, then?” He waited for several seconds before continuing. “That’s a good compromise.”
“And you’re all about compromise.”
Putting his arm around her, he combed his fingers through her hair. “But seriously, I really want to see you. It was dark...before. Not at all how I’d planned it.”
At her side-glance, he nodded. Of course, he’d planned on them making love eventually. Or at least he’d fantasized about the possibility of it far more often than he cared to confess.
“I want this time to be different, Dee. Are you okay with that?”
For several seconds, she didn’t answer. He knew he was asking a lot of her. Not only did he expect her to choose to be with him without having the heat of the moment as an excuse, but he also wanted her in the light, where she wouldn’t be able to hide anything from him, even her fear. But just when he worried he’d asked too much of her, she turned back to him and nodded.
He curled toward her and used his thumb to bring her face closer to him. Then he pressed his lips to hers. The desire he’d been tamping back all night flamed again. He had to remind himself to move slowly. He wanted to show her she was special and convince her she should always have been treated that way.
Rolling to his side, Ben drew her down on the bed with him, heart-to-heart and face-to-face. In the light, he could see the trust in her eyes; he only hoped she could see the truth in his.
When Delia reached for the hem of his sweater, Ben helped her pull it over his head, and then with unsteady hands, he worked his way down the remaining buttons of her blouse. The first real sight of her porcelain perfection, covered only by a mask of pink lace, took his breath away. And when he peeled away her soft leggings and all that lace, revealing all, he could only look at her with awe.
She licked her lips, her gaze darting to him and then away. How could she not know how beautiful she was? How precious.
“You’re perfect,” he breathed, the words as natural as his exhalation.
“Far from it.” But a smile spread across her face and a pretty pink flush crept from her chest to her neck, then to her cheeks. “But thanks anyway.”
“Not just pretty, either. You’re smart. And strong.” He paused to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Resilient.” His lips brushed the other corner. “And a heck of a shot with a .40-caliber semiautomatic.” He paused once more, staring right into her eyes. “And I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
He caught her surprise as he covered her mouth with his again. And he was lost. He breathed her in and tasted and touched, each sensation more potent than the one before. But because this night was about Delia, not him, he held a tight rein on his desire. As he stretched her out on the bed, he focused on her alone, touching with worshipful hands and coaxing lips as he memorized each curve, each plane.
Her fire built slowly, from a pile of kindling, to those first flames, to the glowing embers that suggested it was time. Reaching for his wallet, he rolled on the condom to protect them both this time and then shifted so that he was above her, balancing himself while staring into her eyes.
“Are you ready? You don’t have to...”
But despite her wide eyes, she nodded.
“Are you afraid?”
This time she smiled and shook her head. “I have nothing to be afraid of when I’m with you.”
Ben brought them together then, resisting the overwhelming temptation to claim her all at once. He moved slowly, loving her body with the same determination that had helped him garner her trust. Her face became his focal point as he watched for any sign of pain or misgivings. She only smiled. Soon she was meeting him and matching his cadence, urging him forward.
As she cried out in relief and buried her face in the curve of his neck, Ben gave himself over to the spell that was Delia Morgan. Losing himself in her. Loving her. Making her his. If only for a while.
He held her for a long time afterward, trailing his fingers over her smooth shoulders, drawing the covers closer over the two of them. Still, he couldn’t help but brace himself for what was to come. He’d been there before, had relished her beautiful passion and then felt the crush of her remorse. Would she be sorry this time, too? Would she hate herself for allowing him to love her and hate him for doing it? Would it destroy him if she did?
So he continued to slide his fingers through her hair, to follow the lines of her shoulder blades with his gentlest touch. Her scars had many layers, and he had to be strong enough to help her peel away each one. Or if he couldn’t
help her himself, he would be strong for her as she sought guidance from someone who could help.
No matter what it took, he would be that kind of man for the woman he loved. The kind of man that his father had never been. He wasn’t like his father, after all. He should have known that all along.
Delia shifted against him, drawing him up short. He braced himself for whatever was to come as he looked down at her, pushing her hair back from her face. His throat went dry and his heart thudded at the lovely image before him. Her breathing had changed. Her long lashes lay resting against her cheek. Sweet Delia, who’d spent her life hiding from the ugly truth and had finally trusted him with the weight of it and had fallen asleep in his arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LIGHT WAS ALREADY sneaking into the room through the cracks between the mini-blind slats when Delia blinked her eyes open. Where was she? She glanced from wall to window and then wall to door, trying to make sense of it. It might have been her bedroom—the comforter she’d pulled up to her nose smelled like her lotion—but nothing else felt familiar. Except maybe that other pleasant scent that triggered something in her memory, yet she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
But as she turned her head, all of her discordant thoughts snapped together in the discovery of her overnight guest. Her first male overnight guest. Ever.
She took in a sharp breath, but that only gave her a fresh whiff of that sporty scent that she now recognized as Ben’s cologne. He looked impossibly handsome as he slept, his chest bare and the blanket riding low on his hips. She couldn’t help but stare at him as memories from the night before rushed at her from all directions. Pictures, flavors and memories of sweet touches joined to overwhelm her senses again, warming her inside and out, just as Ben had.
She couldn’t get over the fact that she’d spent the whole night with him. That seemed impossible. Physical intimacy was one thing, even if it was a formidable thing, but actually sleeping with a man? That was different. She’d never been able to trust anyone that much. To give someone access to her body when her guard was down, to her mind when she wasn’t alert to protect it. She’d never allowed herself to be that vulnerable.
