by T. J. Kline
Emma shrugged. “A lot of zoos breed and sell offspring which, while maintaining the population of some species, can hurt it as well and can promote black market sales. Some sanctuaries do the same. A true sanctuary will rescue animals, keeping and caring for them until they can be released, or for their lifetime if they can’t be returned to their habitat. This particular animal park fell into the middle. They did both but Dad was against the breeding program as well as the training and performance aspect.”
“But he trained some of the animals here,” Ben pointed out.
“He didn’t see it that way. He believed there was a big difference between training an animal to perform for a show, even using methods that mimicked their natural tendencies, and training them to tolerate human contact.”
“You disagree.”
She shrugged again. “Whether I agreed or not didn’t really matter. This was Dad’s place and his rules.”
“Yet, he walked wolves on a leash?”
She arched a brow at him and he realized he may have just crossed a line with her. He hadn’t meant to sound judgmental when he was actually curious what crossed her father’s imaginary line.
“Like I said, Cana is a wolf-dog, just a very high concentration of wolf, and he never liked men, not even my father. But he bonded with me, which is why, when I left, he was sent to a wolf-dog rescue in Nevada. He’s not supposed to be here and I have no idea why he is.” A frown furrowed her brow. “I was there when he was shipped out.”
“You need to call the rescue and find out what happened.”
“I will,” she agreed. “In the morning.”
“So, is this how all of our dates are going to end? With some sort of wild animal attack? At least I didn’t almost shoot you this time.”
He’d intended to put a smile on her face by pointing out the irony of their situation, that this was the second time this had happened, but when she looked at him, there was no humor in her expression. In fact, it was the first time since he’d met her that she actually seemed afraid.
“This isn’t a date.” Her voice was tight, as if even saying the words distressed her.
She had just stood in front of a wolf that was ready to attack them, without even flinching, but calling this a date had her backing away from him. He’d didn’t miss the look of panic in her eyes. It was the same one he’d seen in Buster’s, just before he’d run for the woods.
Emma felt her heart drop to her toes. As much as she enjoyed being with Ben, and there wasn’t a part of her that didn’t relish being near him, this couldn’t turn into a relationship. It would take away too much time she needed to give to the sanctuary. Who was she kidding? She was more afraid of getting hurt again. She hadn’t forgotten how she felt when her relationship had crumbled because of her job. And she’d watched her father pine for years, missing her mother. She swore she’d never do that again. “Dating” was the first step heading down that forbidden road.
His eyes gleamed with mischief as he shot her a grin that made the dimple in his cheek appear. “I don’t know, Emma. I drove you someplace where we had drinks and food. Then I drove you home. That sounds like a date to me.”
He was joking, teasing her, but knowing that didn’t stop the dread from welling within her. She had to stop this or, at the very least, set some boundaries.
“We didn’t arrange that meeting and neither of us paid for the food. That means it was really nothing more than a chance encounter that turned into a game of cards.”
Ben took a step toward her, his hands circling her waist and drawing her close. He smiled down at her, brushing back a strand of her hair that caught in the corner of her mouth. “There’s nothing wrong with us having a date, you know.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with us not having a date,” she countered. Her hands had come to rest against his broad chest and she could feel his heart pounding beneath her fingers, strong and steady. Just like the man, himself. “This doesn’t have to be more than it is. Can’t we just have fun?”
She looked up at him, hoping he would agree with her. His gaze was dark, unreadable, as if he was trying to figure out a way to answer her. As if he wasn’t sure of the answer he wanted to give.
“Yes, we can.” His hand slid down her back to cup her rear, pressing her fully against him, and Emma gasped as her own body surged in response. “So long as you promise me one thing.”
Emma felt a chill shiver down her spine in spite of the heat Ben had sparked within her.
“We make what this is clear and decide what we each want. That way, either of us can call it quits and no one gets hurt.”
“You mean, set some ground rules?”
“I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”
He sounded unsure, as if he wished he could take his words back but she wasn’t about to let him backtrack. It was a brilliant idea.
Chapter Nineteen
This is a stupid idea.
Before Ben could even voice the thought, Emma wiggled away from him and ran into the kitchen where Ben heard her rustling around before she returned to the living room with a notepad and a pen. A saucy grin curved her lips.
“Rule number one, no calling this ‘dating.’” She gave him a mock shiver as she wrinkled her nose.
Ben tipped his chin down and sighed. “You seriously want to do this now?”
“Ground rules were your idea, McQuaid.” She pointed the pen at him. “What else?”
Ben wanted to ask Emma what she had against dating. Why was the one word enough to send her into a panic when nothing else had ruffled her up to this point? And she’d had plenty of reasons to be ruffled. But she wasn’t about to confess her fears, or even admit that she had them. It would serve him better to let her follow this rabbit trail, at least for now, until she was willing to let her guard down with him. If she was ever willing to fully let it down.
“Rule number two,” she went on. “This is only for fun. Anyone can bail at any time, for any reason.”
His chest constricted at the thought of Emma turning her back on whatever this was between them. He knew he couldn’t do it without feeling the loss and it annoyed him that she could talk about it as casually as if she was discussing the weather.
He hadn’t wanted to play along with her little game but her blasé attitude about their relationship, whatever it was, irked him, overruling his common sense. “Rule number three,” he ground out. “Until then, there’s no one else.”
She eyed him cautiously but surprised him by writing it down. “I am safe you know.”
“Safe?”
“On the pill, have condoms, tested. Safe.”
Ben cringed. This was probably something he should have considered before. Maybe his brother was right. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this casual relationship thing. “I am too,” he offered. “My last girlfriend—”
“Good,” she said, cutting him off. “Which leads us to rule number four, no other personal questions.”
Emma had just backed him into a corner and left him with nothing more than sex in their relationship. Amazing sex, some serious physical attraction he couldn’t even begin to deny, but she was taking anything beyond that off the table. The glint of her eyes said she knew it too. She’d gotten her way and his option was to take it, or leave it and walk away.
Ben wasn’t about to give up without a fight. It wasn’t in his nature to walk away, not from anything, and he never turned his back on someone needing his help, and Emma needed it more than anyone he’d ever met.
“Rule number five, you have to always tell the truth.”
She rolled her eyes. “Really? Have I lied to you yet?”
Ben reached for her hand and tugged her toward him, winding his arms around her waist and moving his hands up her spine. He dipped his head, brushing his lips against hers ever-so-slightly and catching her gasp of surprise.
“I wouldn’t know, would I?” His gaze remained steady as it flicked down to meet hers. “But I’m going to trust that
you’ll follow all these rules, the same way I have to.”
She gave him a sly smile even though, with her chest pressed against his, he could feel her heart racing. “No problem.”
He narrowed his eyes and nipped at her lower lip. “Don’t be so sure, Emma.”
She slid her hands over his chest and walked him backward, until he felt the couch at the back of his calves. Emma gave him a slight shove, and he dropped onto the cushion. Sliding into his lap, straddling him, gripping his thighs with her own, a wicked smile lit her eyes as she yanked his shirt over his head.
“Oh, I’m sure. I know exactly what I’m capable of.” She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside, leaving the curve of her breasts partially exposed for his view and nearly at eye level.
His hands glided up her sides to cup them and he felt her nipples bead under the thin material of her bra. Ben couldn’t help but smile at her body’s reaction to his touch. There was an honest vulnerability in it, as if it wanted something completely different from what Emma claimed. As if her body wasn’t afraid of letting go, of recognizing the connection that sparked between them at a mere touch.
Reaching behind her, she unclasped her bra and it disappeared with her shirt. Ben didn’t waste a moment, leaning forward to take her into his mouth. Emma reached for his shoulders and he wrapped his arms around her back, letting her body arch into him. Desire, white hot and frantic, shot through him, like lightning.
This woman had proven to be his polar opposite yet she seemed to match his every desire. Where he would have backed off, she urged him for more. Where he led with caution, she rushed in headfirst. Where he was hard, she was soft. His hand cupped her breast . . . oh, so very soft.
Emma tugged at the button of his jeans unsuccessfully, grunting slightly when it didn’t cooperate. He laughed at her impatience. “Do you need some help?”
“What is this? Fort Knox? Some kind of medieval male chastity belt?”
Ben slid his hands under her rear and stood up, effortlessly lifting her with him, and carrying her down the hall toward her room. “Maybe it’s just a sign that you shouldn’t be in such a rush. Sometimes slow is even better.”
“And sometimes it’s not.” She nipped at his neck before pressing soothing kisses over the flesh.
Every touch of her lips against his neck sent bittersweet yearning through his veins. This was fun, but he couldn’t help feeling like something was missing, that there was more, just beyond his reach when it came to Emma. He just wasn’t sure how to break through the wall to find the treasure he knew was in her, that she was so desperate to keep hidden.
Letting her down onto her feet, Ben dropped to his knees in front of her, first removing her shoes and socks, then letting his hands slide up her calves. She might be trying to keep this lighthearted, but he was going to show her that he could be more than just fun.
Emma thought her legs might buckle beneath her as Ben ran his hands up her thighs. A quiver of heated desire shook her, spreading up from where his palms ran over the rough denim to pool at her core, leaving her quaking as his thumbs brushed over where she burned the hottest. If not for his hands at her hips, she would have dropped into his lap on her bedroom floor.
Ben looked up at her through long eyelashes most women would covet and gave her a sinful smile. “You’re about to see how fun going slow can be.”
She wasn’t sure if it was a threat or a promise but Emma shivered at the husky rasp of his voice, just as his mouth pressed against her bared stomach. One hand slid between her thighs, stroking her over her clothing, as the other unbuttoned her pants. With his lips against her lower belly, nipping and laving away the pain, he slid his hands into the back of her pants and over her butt, pulling her even closer. With nothing to hold her up, nothing to help her balance, she could only lean into him, her hands on his shoulders.
In one sweep of his hands, he pulled her jeans and underwear down her legs, helping her step out of them before shoving them aside. His hand crept up the back of her leg, with aching slowness, his fingers trailing over every sensitive crevice and dip, running them over the curve of her rear and to her hip. She waited for him to stand but Ben hadn’t moved from his position in front of her.
“You’re so beautiful, Emma.”
He brushed his thumb over the curls at the apex of her thighs, finding her aching and ready for him. Even that slight touch made her gasp sharply, unable to stop the flood of pleasure that rushed through her.
“Ben.”
His name was barely a breath of sound since she couldn’t remember how to inhale. She could barely remember her own name. When his mouth replaced his fingers, her legs did give way but Ben was there to catch her, to lift her to the edge of the bed without changing his position.
His tongue flicked over her once quickly, setting off fireworks in her, igniting every inch of her flesh, then circled her slowly. The groan that slid past her lips was one of pained ecstasy. Ben took his time, touching, tasting, teasing her until she could no longer remain still beneath his onslaught of pleasure. The callouses on his hands were rough against her skin, even as his kisses were devastatingly gentle. His touch was giving but she could feel the tension building in her as he demanded her release.
And she was more than willing to comply as the first tremors washed over her, nearly drowning her in wave after wave of pleasure. But Ben didn’t stop. He slid a finger inside of her. Emma bucked against him, unable to control any part of her body as it was his completely, to do with as he chose, as she succumbed to the passion he wrought.
Ben rose finally, a smug, sexy-as-sin smile on his face and his eyes practically gleaming with hunger. He reached one hand down and flipped the button of his jeans effortlessly as she fought to catch her breath, even as it stalled in her chest at the sight of him. Every rock-hard muscle gleamed as they flexed with his movements. Emma was dying to get her hands on him, if she could convince her limbs to move again.
With one quick movement, he stepped out of his jeans, freeing his entire body for her viewing pleasure. Or maybe it was simply more torture because suddenly, she ached. Every part of her body wanted him. But he was moving so damn slowly it was killing her.
Ben could see the desire in Emma’s eyes, in the way her gaze slid over him, and when her tongue snuck out to moisten her pouting lips, he nearly gave himself over to the hunger raging through him like a wild beast, clawing to be released. But he wasn’t ready to give her what she wanted; he wanted this to be so much more than just a quick romp before she retreated again into that cave she was trying to hermit herself away in.
He eased himself onto the bed beside her, letting his fingers trail over her skin. Emma sighed in contentment, turning toward him, reaching down to cup him. Ben caught her hand before she could.
“Oh, no, I’m not finished with you yet.” Ben dropped his head, tasting the sweetness of her skin as his tongue swirled over one breast before moving to the other.
“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she whimpered in feeble protest.
Ben laughed against her. “Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no!”
“I told you that I’d prove why slow is better.”
She slid her hands over his back to grip his ass and pull him against her, hooking one leg over his hip and cradling him against the heat of her. It took every ounce of his control to hold back the groan of need and stop himself from plunging into her. “If you move any slower, you’ll be going backward.”
“Maybe we’ll try that later.” He slid his hand up her thigh and moved away from her, brushing his fingers over her again, grinning as her body bucked beneath him, craving more of his touch. “It’s going to be a long night for you, Emma, but I’m pretty sure I can convince you to join me over here on the dark side.”
Emma woke to Ben’s body cradling her own in the still darkness before the light of dawn trickled in. His knees were tucked perfectly into the back of hers, with one arm under her head and the
other draped over her. She was completely enveloped by him, as if he’d been afraid to let her go, even in sleep.
They’d made love last night.
She wished she could call it sex, wished she could relegate it to the recesses of even friendly sex. But it was, without a doubt, making love. At least it had been for her.
She needed to fix this, needed to somehow repair the wall he’d torn down around her heart last night. What she needed was to walk away. But as much as her mind warned her it was the only logical option, she couldn’t convince herself to actually do it. There mere idea made her heart feel like it was being torn from her. Because she liked him. She really, really liked him.
Damn it!
Ben was sweet and kind, gentle and patient. Both with her and the animals. The man had already tried to protect her from a mountain lion and a wolf, had spent an afternoon cleaning up shitty pens for her, and the fire he ignited in her was unparalleled. What more could she possibly ask for?
But Ben wasn’t lacking. She was. He deserved more, better than what she could offer him.
Even now, knowing that this was wrong for her with all of the craziness she was facing, knowing that getting involved with Ben would only hurt him in the long run, she found herself scooting backward into his embrace. She couldn’t give in to it—this fantasy of a white picket fence and a man who could understand her at her innermost level—but she wanted to and was finding it harder to remember why it couldn’t be hers.
Emma could have one or the other, but even her father, as good a husband as he’d tried to be, hadn’t been able to manage both. This life of dangerous beasts and long nights, of emergencies and travel, had chased her mother away and Emma had seen the toll it had taken on her father. He hadn’t wanted to, but her mother had made him choose between his two passions. Ultimately, she knew from experience how this would end, from the start. Emma would make the same choice her father had. She had to keep the sanctuary running because failing couldn’t be an option either. She had to believe that she and her father had made the right decisions.
