Big Ben

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Big Ben Page 21

by Nana Malone


  Date? “It is perfect.”

  “I thought you’d appreciate a break before we hit the Louvre.”

  I just grinned up at him. “You don’t have to do any of this you know.”

  “I know. But at least I can show a girl a good time in Paris of all places.”

  I shoved him. “There’s that ego again. And let’s be clear, the only reason I’m so happy is because of Paris.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah okay, if you say so.”

  He knew the truth. I knew the truth. He was the reason. We could have been in any ordinary place, and I still would have been just as happy to be with him. Because I was completely done for.

  23

  Ben

  She looked... happy. All day she’d been a chatterbox, asking me questions, wanting to know more about me and how I’d grown up. And for the first time in a long time, I felt light. Content. As if nothing could touch me.

  But it’s not real, is it?

  No, it wasn’t real. And I had to live with that because someone was following her. Because of me she was now a part of this. It was my fault, and there was no taking that back.

  But for now, she looked content.

  “Why were you hiding in that closet that night?”

  She sighed. “I was hiding from Fenton.”

  I frowned. “That git I pulled off of you at the bar?”

  “The same one. He’s always too close. Too inappropriate. He always seems to find me.”

  I ground my teeth, speaking through them as I tried to bite back the flare of anger. “Define ‘find you.’”

  “It happened at a work thing for Dexter the first time, about a year and a half ago. I’d never seen him before, but we were making chit-chat. You know me. Then Dexter came and put his arm around me and... I don’t know, Fenton got this look on his face. It looked like fury. As if one of us had done something to piss him off. I didn’t really understand it.” She shrugged.

  “Did he try to get closer to you?”

  “Not really. But he started making Dexter work longer hours. Then one day he turned up at my office. And this was before Mom got really sick. I was leaving to go and have lunch with her, and there he was. He just happened to be there. He called it a happy coincidence and insisted on following me to lunch.”

  I cursed under my breath. Every invented curse I could think of. “Hell, he stalked you.”

  “I’m not sure if I’d call it stalking, but every now and again he’s there, right when I don’t want him to be. He insisted on lunch that day, forced himself on me and my mother and paid for everything. I, of course, tried to decline. And then Dexter asked what the hell I’d done to his boss because the guy was so upset that he changed Dexter’s job and made him directly report to him.”

  I frowned at that. “This is only getting worse.” For a month, we’d been worried about an unseen enemy, but this toad sprocket had been right under my fucking nose all along.

  “I kept telling Dexter I hadn’t done anything. I didn’t know why he was being like that or what he wanted, but Dexter was happy to move up. He’s the kind of guy who was always ambitious and wanted more, and he just didn’t want to see it. But every time we had a date night or something planned, we’d have to cancel because he’d have to work. It was weird. One day I finally stopped listening to Dexter and didn’t put our date nights on his calendar. When the next couple happened as planned, I figured that Fenton had been having a look at his calendar and stopping our plans.”

  “Did you report him?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t really have any proof.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She shrugged. “We haven’t talked about any of this stuff. You know about my mom, but I mean, it’s not like you know who I lost my virginity to when I was eighteen.”

  My scowl deepened. “We’ll talk about him later. And as soon as we get back to London, you need to file a restraining order against Fenton Mills. That’s an order.”

  “You don’t get to dictate my life.”

  What kind of utter bullshit was that? “Yes, I do.”

  “Why?”

  Why? Because for the first time in a long while I was allowing myself to care about someone. “Because I care about you. You’re the best operations director I’ve ever had.”

  “I’m the only one you’ve let yourself have. Jessa told me you like to stay hands-on.”

  “Yeah, well, if you want something done, do it yourself. So what’s your plan for pencil dick?”

  She sighed. “I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

  “I saw that kiss he gave you when he said goodbye.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that was for your benefit, not mine. Things just got really bad for us about six months ago, right after Mom died. I was driving one night, and we had a bad accident. He broke his hand in three places and required a lot of physical therapy. We’ve never really recovered from it. He blames me.”

  I was going to kill him. I was going to kill both of them, Fenton and Dexter. Fenton because I now had a feeling that he was the one following her or having her followed, and Dexter because he was just a pure arse.

  He was cheating on her. But I couldn’t tell her any of that because she would want to know how I knew. It would hurt her, and my sole aim was to keep her from hurting.

  “We’re friends, remember? So, let me help you with this. This shit can’t go unchecked. You have to tell the police.”

  She frowned. “Now you sound like Telly. She’s been saying for ages that I need to just report him.”

  “I agree.”

  “I wish I could explain it, but I sort of feel like I can’t, like my hands are tied and that no one will believe me.”

  I took her hand, dangerous rookie move that it was, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to touch her. I needed to feel her soft palm against mine. “I am your friend, Livy. I’m not just your boss. I will help you. I know people in the police department. They’ll take your report seriously. He’ll be forced to stay away from you. People like that are dangerous. I don’t want you hurt, get it?”

  She nodded and withdrew her hand from mine. I was bereft at the loss of her warmth, but I couldn’t really force her to hold on. “Thank you. It’s like my whole life is in a twisty-turny shamble and I don’t have a clue about what to do.”

  “Listen, I’ll help you. Whatever you need. I don’t want to overstep, but you have to do something about him. He forced you to hide.”

  “I know. I feel dumb.”

  “Don’t feel dumb. That’s how he wins. That’s what he wants you to feel. Like, ‘Oh, maybe you’re making this up.’ You’re not.”

  “Why are you so amazing?”

  “Tell that to my mates, would you? They’re not always sure I’m amazing.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “Diminish the good qualities about yourself. You act like all you are is a facade, but you’re so much more. Why don’t you want anyone to see that?”

  The woman saw me too well, and that was dangerous. But despite the danger and my pounding heartbeat, I met her gaze. “Because sometimes it’s easier to pretend than to let them see the real you.”

  Livy

  I had been dreading this moment all night. All day really. I had known there would be a moment when it was time to say goodnight. Put an end to the day. Put an end to pretending that I was carefree and happy and had not a care in the world. “I should probably get to bed.”

  He nodded and took the wine glass from my hand and sat it on the coffee table along with his. Then he stood and reached out a hand to me. I glanced up at him. He was so tall and broad, and sex appeal oozed off of him in waves.

  The connection to him was ever-present. From the moment I’d shared a closet with him, it had been like the gears of a clock clicking into place. Like every moment of my life had led me to him. He was more than familiar. He was home.

  He’d spent his whole day
showing me everything I wanted to see in this glorious city. I hadn’t even asked, and he’d done it. I didn’t even know what to say to that.

  “Thank you for everything. I wish I had the words to say thank you properly, but I’ve never in my life dreamed of a day like this. I won’t forget it.”

  He flushed slightly and ducked his head. “I’m glad you had a good day. It was my pleasure to show it to you.”

  “And thank you for letting me spread more of my mother’s ashes. You’re probably sick of that process by now. I get weepy and all that sad shit.”

  His smile was soft as he spoke. “No, actually.” He dug his hands into his jeans, tugging them lower on his hips and showing just a hint of hip bone, making me swallow around the saw dust in my mouth. When I lifted my gaze, he was watching me closely. When he spoke, his voice was thick. “I feel like I know her. I feel like she and I might have been great friends.”

  “You know, you’re probably right. She always said she liked a man who was a bit of a rogue.”

  He grinned then. “Well then, resident rogue at your service.”

  “You really didn’t have to do all this, and I don’t just mean a day in Paris. What you’ve given me in the last few weeks, a new job, a roof over my head… I don’t have any way to say thank you properly.”

  “I didn’t do any of those things for you. I did it for me. I like being near you. I like your obsession with Batman. I like your teasing. I love your smile. Being with you reminds me that I have been living in a shell of myself for too long. I haven’t had a woman I trusted in a long time. Everything about this is completely crazy, and every single day you make me want to keep up. So spending the day exploring with you was my pleasure.”

  “Goodnight, Ben.”

  He frowned, his voice hoarse when he whispered my name. “Livy—”

  He reached for me, and I automatically stepped back. “I should go to bed.”

  “I just wanted you to have the perfect day.”

  “And it was perfect.”

  He opened his mouth to say something and then shut it again. I shouldn’t have been desperate to know what he wanted to say, but I was.

  He wasn’t the kind of man for lazy Sunday lie-ins. He wasn’t the relationship type. Hadn’t I already learned my lesson?

  I turned, and he reached out for me. His touch a light graze on my skin. A caress of two fingers sliding over me like satin, making me forget a simple thing like breathing. When I turned, the muscle in his jaw ticked.

  “This is a bad idea for a lot of reasons.”

  I blinked up at him. “What?”

  “This.” He pointed his finger between us. “It feels like you’re mine.”

  When he said it like that, with that low growl, I believed everything he said. And my body was being pulled to him like the reverberation of elastic that had been pulled away too tight. I was coming back to him at high velocity speed, and we were going to collide. But there was no stopping it. No chance that I was going to escape. It was happening. It was a matter of how long I could put it off. Heartbreak was coming for me.

  You’re insane if you think you can put it off.

  He stepped into my space and wrapped his arms around me, his hands settling on my hips like a brand. “Ben—”

  His lips latched onto mine in a crash and a caress, and it was like something broke inside me. I was the elastic snapping back. I was careening out of control, and I didn’t give a shit.

  I leaned into the kiss, digging my fingers into his T-shirt, pulling him closer and needing to feel the press of his body against mine. I was going to hell. I prayed I could stop time, to have this moment, this taste, before doing what I knew I had to do. I could just pause that moment and be the woman he wanted me to be. Be brave and wild and fun and adventurous. I could be her. I could let go of safe me, of the Livy that followed the rules, that did the right thing always.

  For once I could follow passion, and I finally understood what my mother had been trying to tell me about making sure that every moment was lived with that kind of passion. That life was so short, and if you weren’t looking, you’d lose threads of it. I finally understood what it really meant to be alive. Just to have someone who would kiss me like I was everything to him, like I was the only thing that gave him breath, that gave him life.

  Ben’s hands were in my hair. I could feel the press of his heavy ring against my temple as his fingers twined in my curls and pulled. He angled my head swiftly and devoured my lips, his tongue sliding in, not in a gentle, slick motion, but in torrent of need and desire and strong licks intent on igniting a new rapture. He was owning my mouth. With a groan, one hand released me and wrapped around my waist, slid over my ass, and pulled me in close. I could feel the hard press of his dick against me. Thick. Bulging. Insistent.

  Holy hell. He was huge. And I wanted to feel him filling me up, claiming me, making me his. Who was I kidding? I was already his. Anything he asked, I would give. Anything he wanted, I would break every oath and vow to give it to him.

  Against my lips he moaned. “So fucking beautiful. I need you so much.”

  Unable to form any coherent thought, all I could do was whisper against his lips. “Ben.”

  It must have been enough because his lips went back to devouring mine. And there was a muffled cry as he dragged me down to the couch. At first, I lay on top of him, but then with a grunt, he rolled us over and his body lay over mine, hips between my spread legs, and all I could do was hang on for the ride. His kisses were taking me high, dragging me along with them in a wild Icarus ride. With his tongue, he drove me closer and closer to the sun, and I didn’t give a fuck that my wings were on fire.

  I just wanted more. I wanted to be closer to him. I wanted his skin pressed against mine, to feel the heat of his skin under the press of my fingers.

  We tugged and pulled at each other’s clothes. Muffled moans, low groans, desperation chased need as we fought each other free of our clothes. He dragged the strap of my sundress off my shoulder and then groaned when his eyes took in the strapless bra I wore underneath it. “I need to see.” His lips kissed along my jaw, my collarbone, and down my chest as his fingers played with the other strap, dragging that down as well. “Can I? Can I see you?”

  He was normally so forceful, so demanding. But he lifted his gaze, his hair falling over his brow, and he was so vulnerable. Pleading.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  With his teeth, he dragged down the red satin covering my breast, and he groaned.

  “Christ.” And then his mouth was on me. But there was no frenzied, pulling need. No. This was tender. Softer. Gentler. And the soft tugging of his lips made my hips arch into him.

  “Ben, please...”

  Instead of hurrying, he pulled the other strap of my sundress down farther and tugged the satin down with his fingers. When I was completely bare to him, he pulled back and watched my breasts as I dragged in breath after breath. I just needed his mouth on me. His hips pressed into mine, but it wasn’t nearly enough pressure. Not where I needed. I just wished he would touch me more. Use his mouth, his fingers, anything. The fire was burning in my soul, and I didn’t give a shit. The things I couldn’t take back, the apologies I couldn’t make, I would deal with those later, but I needed relief.

  He finally touched my right peak, and his gaze met mine as he ran a thumb over it. “I love your nipples. I want to cover them with fucking chocolate.”

  My eyes fluttered close, and I threw my head back. “I don’t know, just... just... I need something from you.”

  “I know, baby. And I’m going to give it to you. But first, I need to taste. I’ve been so desperate to know. Just a little taste.”

  His words were so gentle. They were nearly whispered against my breasts as he lowered his head. I arched my back, trying to rush him, hurry him along. Get his mouth where I needed it. And there it was. His lips wrapped around my nipple, and his tongue was a tease. I cried out needing more. The pull at my belly was deep
and throbbing, and God, it held such promise of everything I had ever been looking for.

  With his free hand, he cupped my other breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging gently as he suckled on the other one. “Fuck.”

  Reaching a hand behind me, he unsnapped my bra and kept tugging on my sundress, kissing the skin that was bared to him. His fingers were still playing with my nipple. He tried tugging the dress all the way down, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “There’s a zipper,” I gasped.

  He shook his head. “Fuck.” He shoved the material up over my thighs, and then adjusted his position. When he kissed my belly button, I squirmed. “Oh my God. Ben, God, please...”

  “Shhhh... I will make you feel better, okay?”

  Why was he being so gentle? I expected this to be hot and fast and dirty and…

  But instead of giving me the thing that would sate the crawling need, he was giving me more. He was giving me gentleness. He was giving me feelings and emotions, and I didn’t know what to do with all of that.

  One of his fingers traced the edge of my panties. “Can I touch you?”

  I nodded. “I’m yours.”

  “I know. Since I saw you in that closet, you’ve been mine. You just didn’t know it yet.”

  He was right. I hadn’t known it. I didn’t even know as I fought that truth. There was a part of me accepting it. Part of me willing him to do what he needed to with me, to give him whatever the hell he wanted. When his finger slid under the elastic, I moaned. He released my breast and then tugged aside my panties. His moan was low and throaty. “God, you’re so pretty.”

  “Ben, please... I need you.”

  “I’m getting to it. I’m just going to take my time.”

  “No, not okay. Now.”

  His chuckle was soft. “No. I’ve been waiting for weeks. No way am I rushing this. You and I, we’re happening. And before we happen, I’m going to make you feel so good you will never again question who you belong to.”

 

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