by AC Netzel
Men. They’re either complete dicks or just ruled by them.
~o0o~
Over an hour has passed, and Ben hasn’t left his cave. I walk to the Coin Shrine and lean on the frame of the doorway. He’s not typing. In fact, his computer screen is dark. He’s sitting at his desk in silence, staring out the window at the night sky, lost in thought. The room is dark except for a dim light coming from a small lamp on the corner of his desk.
Subtly, I clear my throat. He swivels his chair around and faces me.
“Hey,” I say. “It’s late. Are you done?”
“No. Don’t wait up for me. I’m still writing.”
“Your computer is off.”
“Just go to bed.”
“Not until you tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Nothing’s bothering me.” The side of his mouth twitches. His lying twitch.
“Talk to me, Ben.”
“Goodnight, Julia.” There’s probably an icicle hanging off the tip of my nose from his chilly dismissal.
I know what’s bothering him. He knows it too. We can sweep this under the rug or air it out and move on. We promised to communicate. And although right now he’s not living up to his side of the deal, I’m going for it.
“Is this about me seeing my Ex?”
He leans back with his elbow resting on the arm of the chair, runs his fingers through his hair, and stares at me expressionless.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” I ask. “Ben, it wasn’t a big deal.”
He nods minutely then stands from his chair and briskly marches past me into the hallway toward the kitchen and living room.
“What is your fucking problem?” I shout, following behind him.
He navigates around the maze of boxes piled high on the floor, knocking over a bag filled with handcuffs, vibrators and other sex toys. He stops at the couch then spins around and faces me. His jaw clenches as his eyes narrow.
“My fucking problem is that you didn’t fucking tell me.”
“What was I supposed to say? I bumped into an old boyfriend at a tacky gift shop this afternoon?”
“That’s exactly what you were supposed to say.”
“Are you kidding me? Do you report to me every time you bump into one of your former friends?” I ask. “I’m sure the city is overflowing with your old bang buddies.”
“That was low,” he hisses.
“The truth hurts, Mr. Hypocrite. You’re applying a double standard. You get to keep your past to yourself. Oh, except for Camille, who won’t go the fuck away. I’m expected to report every aspect of mine. That’s bullshit. You said it yourself this afternoon, you and I have pasts. He has nothing to do with us.”
“This is different.”
“How is it different? I endured being cordial to one of your former buddies at my bridal shower. All the while she was cursing me under her breath because she wants you to the point of pathetic. Last month, we went to a restaurant and bumped into one of your former friends. I stood there with a fake smile plastered across my face. Do you think I didn’t know who she once was to you? The look of shock on her face when you introduced me as your fiancé was obvious. But I’m an adult and didn’t give you a hard time over it.”
“Like you are now?” he asks.
“Don’t turn this around. You started it.”
“It’s not the same.”
“It’s absolutely the same. I don’t like that those girls had a part of you before me but like you said, nothing’s going to change it.”
I know Ben has a possessive streak, but this is a whole other level of needless jealousy.
“Do you think I enjoy the thought of you in another man’s arms? Picturing someone else touching you…” He doesn’t finish his thought, and he doesn’t need to. I get it.
Rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, he inhales a deep breath and continues. “What am I going to do? It is what it is. But that guy is more than a past sex partner. You were with him for years. You were in love with him. He’s someone you gave yourself to, body and soul. And he wants you back. That had to evoke some feelings. And yet, you didn’t think it was worth mentioning?”
“I still don’t. He was from a lifetime ago. A time that has nothing to do with us.”
“You must have feelings for him.”
“Yeah, I do. Hatred. And I’m starting to feel the same way about you right now.” My eyes narrow, my stomach churning. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to get angry at me over something I had zero control over.”
“I’m not angry at you.”
“Oh, you’re arguing with me because you’re happy?” I ask sarcastically.
“You don’t get it.”
“No. I guess I don’t. Enlighten me.”
He stares at me, stone-faced. “I’m angry at myself.”
“Angry at yourself for being an idiot right now?
“That wasn’t funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny. Why are you angry?”
He shakes his head in frustration, and his gaze softens. “I’m torn.”
“Torn about what?” I’m completely baffled.
“Him. You. What he did to you.”
“I’m lost here. What are you talking about? What he did to me? Are you still talking about sex? You’re unbelievable.”
“No.”
“You’re confusing the hell out of me.”
“The thought of someone hurting you kills me. I never want that for you. I’ve been trying to reconcile the fact that I love you— and I’m glad that motherfucker hurt you. If that asshole didn’t fuck up, you’d still be with him—you’d still be in love with him. And I feel like a shit because I’m happy he was a prick at your expense.”
His answer surprises me. It never occurred to me that his reaction to me seeing Mikehole might not be about jealousy. Not entirely. He really is mad at himself, and my anger fades.
I never put myself in his shoes. Ben has his past, but he never gave himself, all of him anyway, to anyone. Until me. Maybe he’s right—our situations are different. His reaction isn’t about sex. I think it’s about guilt.
“Seriously? That’s what’s bothering you? That you’re happy my Ex was an asshole?”
Cupid should declare bankruptcy after purchasing all the arrows he shoots through my heart over this man.
“I’m mad at myself because I’m glad he hurt you. I’d probably never have met you if he didn’t. And I’m upset with you for not telling me because he was more to you than some meaningless fling.”
“He’s not worth a mention.”
“He was your first love,” he reminds me.
“Why are you so wrapped up in firsts? You weren’t my first kiss either. Want a list so you can grill me about everyone I played spin-the-bottle with when I was twelve? I sure as hell wasn’t your first fuck... or second... or tenth. It’s the last that matters. You are the last man I will fall in love with. Do you need a first? Fine! You’re the first husband I will fuck. And the last. Boom… You get both. Feel better?”
Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he furrows his brows and exhales a long breath. He’s serious and I’m making fun of him. I bitch about communicating more, and when he opens up, I taunt him. I may be a bigger idiot than him.
“I loved the person I thought he was, not who he turned out to be. Love based on deceit isn’t love. It’s lies. When I saw him, I felt nothing but contempt,” I explain. “I want someone who’s all in. I deserve that. You and me, we’re real. That makes you the only love that counts. All he represents to me is betrayal, the reason I lost my ability to trust. Something you gave back to me. And yeah, I was hurt back then, but that hurt paved the road to better things. I’ve been waiting for this…” I wave my hands back and forth between us. “Ben, I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”
“You did love him.”
“Yes, but it was so different.”
“How?”
“Because you love me. And that makes me feel… I don’t kn
ow... eternally grateful.” Placing my hand on my forehead, I shake my head, frustrated. “I know I’m not saying this right. I just love you more than I thought a person could love someone. I love you better.”
“You love me better?” he asks, amused.
“That sound stupid, doesn’t it?”
“No.”
“I’m going to be honest with you. If the shoe were on the other foot, I’d have zero regrets that you were hurt. I mean I’d feel bad but…” I shrug a shoulder. “I’d find the stupid bitch that screwed up, laugh in her face, and call her a loser for letting you slip through her fingers. And I’d have no guilt whatsoever because I was meant to find you. So don’t feel bad over my heart getting broken. That’s old news. Believe me. I’m more than fine. Be glad that it was you who put it back together. You get to keep it. I have this,” I wiggle my engagement ring in front of him, “to prove it.”
He caresses my cheek with the side of his hand, gazing at me tenderly. “I love you,” he says quietly with a look of sincerity that moves me. He looks down at me and smiles warmly. He’s said ‘I love you’ hundreds of times before, but somehow, right now it sounds like the first time.
“I love you more,” I say softly.
He shakes his head. “Impossible.”
You know that old saying ‘I love you so much it hurts’? That’s bullshit. Loving this man brought me to life. Not being with him...
That’s what would hurt.
I cup his face, turning it to me and gaze deeply into his eyes. “Every ounce of me is desperately in love with you… even when you’re an unreasonable idiot and I don’t want to.”
He chuckles. “Prove it.”
“How?”
He tugs at my hand until my body is against his chest and presses a delicate kiss on the soft spot under my ear that drives me wild. “Marry me,” he whispers.
“Well,” I pause, tapping a finger to my temple. “Sure, why not?” I feel his smile on my neck, which brings a smile to me as well.
He leans down and kisses me tenderly. I’m practically a puddle of Julia at our feet. He put himself out there. And dammit, there’s something about his honesty and vulnerability I find incredibly attractive.
“You drive me crazy,” he says menacingly.
“It’s my specialty.”
“Do you have any idea how turned on I am?” His hand slides down my body and cups my ass.
Uh, yeah. The rock hard erection pressing against me is a pretty solid indicator.
“HmmMmm.” I nod.
“I need to be with you,” he says, his voice low and husky.
“You are.”
“I need to be inside you.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
Grabbing my face with both hands, he kisses me again. His tongue slides into my mouth, twined with mine… a warm, passionate, deep kiss. I swear I taste his soul. He sucks on my bottom lip then gently bites down, sending delicious shivers throughout my body.
He moves toward my neck. His coarse stubble brushes against my cheek. Pressing his soft lips behind my ear, he kisses my heated skin then nibbles on my earlobe, fueling a fire between my legs.
He straightens his posture and we gaze at each other silently. Longingly. In this quiet, intimate moment, I hear everything he hasn’t said. I feel his heart beating without touching him.
I own him—because he wants me to. Just as he owns me. His eyes convey the purest love, passion...
Us.
Without a word, he unbuttons my blouse, deliberately unhurried, one by one. I’m rooted in my spot as I watch him slowly undress me. Wanting to be naked in front of him is sometimes sexier than actually being naked. And I want to be naked so badly, I ache.
When the last button is undone, he opens my shirt and admires my body. His eyes are hooded as he licks his lips.
Oh, the things I want that tongue to do to me.
My chest rises as I inhale a breath, awaiting his touch and I blush. He smiles seductively, knowing how he affects my body.
“Turn around.” There’s a confidence in his voice that makes every muscle below my waist clench.
I comply immediately. He unhooks my bra, then glides a finger leisurely down my spine.
The silky fabric of my bra strap slide down my arms as Ben removes my bra and drops it to the floor. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hold in a breath to compose myself before I knock him to the floor and straddle his face.
He cups my breasts from behind, his thumbs circling my hardened nipples. A low groan escapes from the back of my throat.
It’s exquisite.
I lift my arms over my head, locking my fingers around his neck while his hands explore my body. His stiff erection presses against my ass. My God, he’s hard.
His hand travels south, roaming my body, caressing my inner thigh, then lusciously inches its way up my short skirt. His fingertip grazes the edge of my panties and he stops.
I yearn for more. Desperate with need. My nerves are bundled in desire for him.
Only ever him.
He unzips the back of my skirt and pulls it down my legs, hooking his finger around the elastic of my panties and taking them down as well. I step out of my clothes and lean back against him.
Peeking at the window, I notice the curtains are drawn open and I freeze. New York City’s beautiful skyline is lit up and my nakedness is on display.
“No one can see in. Your body is for my eyes only,” he assures me, turning me around to face him.
I nod in agreement. He’s told me this a thousand times. One day, it’ll actually sink in.
His eyes travel slowly up and down my body, and he smiles. A slow, sexy smile reserved only for me.
“Sit down,” he murmurs seductively.
I sit on the couch, naked, watching him watch me, fully dressed.
I feel vulnerable— and sexy.
He sinks to his knees, skimming his lips up my leg.
Feather-light kisses trail across my inner thigh. He spreads my legs apart with his hands until his face is between my legs and his tongue is stroking my wet, swollen clit.
“Oh. God.” Fisting his hair, I pull him closer to me as his tongue continues its sensual journey with long luxurious licks.
If this is his apology, he is most definitely forgiven.
His tongue is anyway.
He plunges a finger inside me, crooking it and hitting my G-spot while he strokes my clit with his skilled tongue.
I grab his hair tighter, bracing myself as the first wave of my orgasm hits me.
“Oh. Oh,” I let out a shuttered moan, surrendering to the purest pleasure rippling throughout me. Unraveling. Wave after pulsating wave tears through me.
Incredible.
Once I return to earth, he glances up at me with a look of satisfaction and my arousal glistening on his lips.
Fuck, that’s sexy.
Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he stands and grabs his belt buckle. The jingle of his buckle sets my heart racing even faster.
Ben is naked in seconds and what a sight he is. He’s all man. And hard as granite, from his muscular chest down to his impressive erection.
I stand, my legs a little wobbly. Splaying my hands across his chiseled chest, I touch the smooth muscle beneath his warm skin. I love his body. My eyes travel down his torso to that incredible ‘V’.
That ‘V’ has rendered me stupid more times than I care to admit.
My hands continue their journey, traveling through his happy trail until I’m cupping his balls.
He closes his eyes and takes in a quick breath.
Gently, I wrap my fingers around his rock-hard shaft and stroke him up and down, occasionally massaging his balls with one hand.
He opens his eyes and our gazes lock, as I continue fondling and stroking him. There's a charge in the air between us. His breathing ragged as he blows out a breath. I know he’s trying to keep it together and it makes me feel powerful. It’s a rush.
He jerks away
slightly and I know he wants me to stop. He’s right on the edge and he wants to come inside me.
I let him go and he lifts his hand to my face. His index finger traces my lips. I press a delicate kiss on his fingertip and he smiles warmly.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “So fucking beautiful.” He glides his finger across my cheek, caressing it as he slides it down my neck, languidly skimming across the nape of my neck to my shoulder.
The sincerity in his eyes nearly brings me to tears, choked up by how much he loves me. So completely, so perfectly.
“Please, Ben,” I whisper. “I need you.”
He grabs my ass, lifting me up, and I wrap my legs around him. Flesh on flesh. His chest hair tickles my breasts. He kisses me hard as he walks across the room and pushes my back against the living room wall.
The wetness from the tip of his very hard erection skims across my skin. And his warm breath against my neck…
So goddamned hot.
In one hard push, he enters me, inch by perfect inch, stretching me, filling me.
“Oh.” My arms tighten around him, my nails dig into his skin as he thrusts into me, again and again. My pelvis instinctively pushes back, greedily wanting more of him. Wanting all of him.
My back hurts a little as it rubs against the wall. But it hurts so good, I don’t care.
He slows down the tempo, taking his time, slowly, deliberately. My sex clenches tightly around him. And when he bites my shoulder, I lose it again. My toes curl as my legs tighten around him. Trembling, I come hard and fast.
“Fuck,” I call out, reeling in my second orgasm.
“Julia.” He squeezes my ass and I know he's there. He stiffens as he finds his release.
There’s something about him whispering my name in pleasure that sets me on fire. It’s almost spiritual. I can’t help myself. Desperately, I find his mouth and devour him with a kiss.
We sink down to the floor and lay on the rug, catching our breaths. I rest my chin on his chest, elated by the fact that this amazing man is mine for life.
“Ben?”
“Mmm,” he hums, twirling a few strands of my hair with his finger.
“Do you think we can have another argument soon?”
He chuckles, kissing the top of my head. “I think we can manage that.”
