Escapade

by Lisa Marie Rice

  He crossed his arms and pulled his sweater up and over his head, tossing it onto a chair. The instant it hit the chair, he removed his boots and socks, shucked his jeans and briefs and there he was. The most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

  She’d seen him in an old tattered wife beater and shorts but naked, he was something else. Long and lean, muscles so defined he could have been a living anatomy atlas. Raised veins were visible all over his body. Elle had been around powerful men all her life. Her father was one of the richest men in the world. Her step-father was CEO of a large corporation. She’d worked with Nobel prize winners and MacArthur ‘Genius’ Grant recipients. But Bennett was another type of power altogether, a primitive form of power but the real deal. When the world went to shit, the other men would lose their power.

  Bennett would never lose his. Only death could take it away.

  He’d skirted death, many times.

  He stood before her, naked, almost in a fighting stance. His chest was heaving as if he’d run miles to her.

  They stared at each other. Wordlessly, Elle stripped. She sat up, pulled off the yoga top, unhooked her bra, slid her silky yoga pants and lace panties down her legs. Bennett followed every move she made, without moving a muscle himself.

  When she was naked, Elle lay back down and held her arms up. “Come to me, Bennett,” she whispered.

  It was as if her words freed him from shackles. In a step he was at the bedside and a second later he was lying on top of her. They both shuddered. It was such a relief feeling him on her, his weight pushing her down. As if without that weight she’d just float up and away.

  She needed that weight. She needed him.

  Bennett placed a forearm on the bed next to her head and lifted his torso. His other hand covered her mound. As if she needed more heat there. It felt like a furnace, on fire. Long fingers covered her, reached the opening of her sex, stroked her there.

  Bennett looked down at the picture they made, then lifted his eyes to hers. “You’re so goddamned beautiful.” His voice was hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in years. “I don’t know where to start.”

  That made her smile. “You’ll figure it out.”

  His eyes never left hers. “I will.”

  Fingers touched her, entered her. An electric bolt of pleasure speared through her.

  Bennett closed his eyes then opened them again. “You’re wet.”

  She smiled. “I am.”

  His finger slid in and out of her and this time she closed her eyes. A sigh left her mouth. Without thought, her hips lifted.

  “You’re ready.”

  Her eyes opened at that. The breath in her lungs was hot and she couldn’t speak. She nodded because, yes, she was ready. It usually took a lot of foreplay for her to be ready but she was ready now. So ready it shocked her. He’d barely touched her and she was ready to come. It felt like she’d been preparing for this moment her whole life.

  Bennett shifted his hips and entered her in one hard shocking stroke. He stopped, propped on his forearms, hands cupping her head. “God,” he muttered. “Sorry.”

  Elle shut her eyes, all her attention concentrated inward, particularly to where he filled her completely. It was almost, but not quite, painful. On the knife’s edge between pain and blinding pleasure.

  Don’t apologize, she wanted to say but didn’t have the breath to do it. She arched, spread her legs and he sank a little deeper into her and it wasn’t that fine line between pain and blinding pleasure any more. It was just blinding pleasure.

  With a small cry, she fell into orgasm, clenching around him tightly and oh God, he started coming too. Impossibly intense spurts that went on forever. Through it all, he kissed her, holding her head tightly, and pressed into her as hard as he could, drowning his moans in her mouth.

  It went on forever. Time just stopped while her body went into overdrive as she clutched him as hard as she could, gripping him with her arms and legs. She would explode if she didn’t hold onto him hard.

  He started moving in her, hard jabs that didn’t hurt because she was so wet all she felt was the heat, the sensation of being filled.

  Finally the tension left her. Her arms collapsed by her sides, her legs opened. She felt completely lax, wiped out, muscles like rubber. No thoughts in her head at all. Her brain had taken a hike while her body took over. Pleasure at that level was almost frightening.

  He lifted his mouth from hers and his lips were red and slightly swollen. Who knew what she looked like? She was probably the very picture of wanton abandon, arms and legs out, Bennett on top of her, still in her.

  “Whoa.” He shook his head. He wasn’t smiling but there was a lightness to his expression. “I’m really sorry. I’m not usually that trigger happy.” He flicked the small dent in her chin. “It’s because you’re so amazingly desirable.”

  Elle didn’t have the energy to roll her eyes but she smiled faintly. “So it’s all my fault?”

  He heaved a huge sigh. She could feel that massive chest expand. “No, honey, it’s mine.” Now he smiled. “It’ll be better next time.”

  Any better and she’d be dead, but she didn’t say that. “I don’t know. It was pretty good. I’d give you an A.”

  He grinned. “Yeah?”

  He pulled away then slid back into her. Somehow he was still hard. Elle had no idea men could do that. “An A?”

  Another slide into her and her vagina actually fluttered.

  “Okay,” she sighed as her arms came around him again. “An A+.”

  The next morning, Bennett lifted his head from the pillow then dropped it again. He was covered in sweat, exhausted and revved, both at the same time. Like he could go three or four hundred rounds in the ring with a sparring partner, if he could just stand up. He turned his head on the pillow to look at her. She was staring at the ceiling. Thank God she had a smile on her face.

  “All of this is so out of bounds,” he said. But he was smiling. “I should so fire my ass.”

  She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, not moving her head. “Yeah?” she said lazily. “Why?”

  Bennett lifted himself up onto his elbow and looked down at her, totally delighted at what he saw. He put his face against her neck and inhaled. She smelled so good. Some floral scent plus an overlay of sex. Best smell in the world. “Told you. No fraternizing with principals.”

  She ran a hand lazily over his back, stopping, as she’d done before, at the bullet scar. “I’d call what we did all night a little more than fraternization. Maybe you should fire you.”

  He kissed her shoulder. “But I’d have to get out of bed to fire my ass.”

  She sighed. Smoothed her hand down his back, over his ass. Clutched it. “And a very fine ass it is, too.”

  He laughed as he went from semi-hard to raging woodie. He shifted so he was lying on top of her, taking the weight of his torso on his arms. His hands were in her hair, holding her head still. Shiny blue-black hair fell over his fingers.

  “I keep expecting your hair to be cold, it’s so black. But it’s not. It’s warm.”

  Luckily she didn’t comment on his stupid remark.

  “It’s an amazing color. And your eyes … Jesus. You have that whole Snow White thing going on.”

  “I inherited my coloring from my mom. She was a real beauty in her day. Still is very beautiful.”

  He wondered whether she’d gotten her smarts from her mom or from Ricks. And thanked the stars above again that she hadn’t inherited his looks.

  “Why’d your dad leave her?”

  Her mouth quirked. “I think he truly loved her. More than any of his other wives. It’s just that mom made the fatal mistake of aging, so, like he does with his cars and houses, he turned her in for a newer model. Didn’t work though. His wives just kept getting younger and younger and stupider and stupider. My dad is pretty good at money but not so good at being human.”

  Bennett ran his finger down the side of her face, admiring the fine facial bo
nes. This was a woman who would be beautiful and turning heads at eighty. “He’s a moron.”

  She laughed. “Pretty much. And he lost out in the end. My mom cried for years after he left us and then she met my step dad, Matthew Castle. He adopted me and I love him like a father. Certainly more than my own dad. Mom and Matt are wildly happy. My dad’s last wife was Bulgarian with some gypsy blood in her. I heard she cursed him before leaving. They say he was really spooked.”

  Bennett had very little bandwidth to pity Clifford Ricks when he had the daughter Ricks had ignored under him. This wasn’t a woman you ignored. So soft, so bright. A lot of tart snark came from a mouth that was amazingly soft.

  He wanted to keep talking to her but his body had other plans. He shifted so he was completely on top of her, realizing that they were again in the missionary position after being in the missionary position all night. He couldn’t even wrap his head around experimenting when all he wanted was to mount her, in as primitive a fashion as possible.

  Going missionary had its advantages. God yes. He could watch her beautiful face and touch her all over while fucking her. What was better than that?

  He was revved — was she? He bent to kiss her neck, knowing exactly the spots that excited her. He was going to get a fucking PhD in Elle Castle. He was going to know everything about her, inside and out, before he was done.

  And he was going to take his time about it, too because being with her was just the greatest.

  So he was going to go over his lesson notes. A lick of her ear that made her shudder, check. A light bite behind her ear that made her sigh, check. Sliding his fingers into her between her legs, feeling her slowly become wet, oh yeah. Check check check.

  “Bennett,” she sighed.

  “Right here,” he whispered into her ear then licked it.

  She was ready and he felt like he’d been born ready. He entered her and she was so tight and soft he felt like his head would explode. No exploding right away, though, no. He’d done that twice last night and goddamn it, he was known for his self control. He could last a long time, except with Elle, the one woman he wanted to please above all others.

  She hadn’t complained, but still.

  He held himself inside her because, well, it felt so goddamned good. Already he could feel tension along his spine but he wasn’t going to come in an instant. Nope.

  He pulled out, wanting this to be leisurely, but immediately moved back in. Out. In. Out. In.

  His skin felt too tight, and electricity crackled in the air.

  In.

  Out.

  He started shaking. Elle’s head pushed back against the pillows, long white throat exposed and as she gave a sharp cry, she tightened around him in sharp contractions.

  In. Out. In. Out. Inoutinoutinout …

  Bennett put his face against her head and muffled his shout in the pillow. He was pouring sweat, his hair, his groin wet with it.

  He closed his eyes and stifled a groan as he climaxed. He was definitely going to get over this initial phase of uncontrollable excitement. Definitely. Though who knew when?

  Elle gave a little laugh and trailed her fingers lazily up his back. Stopping, as always, at his bullet scar.

  He barely had the energy to keep his eyes open.

  “That was funny?” he mumbled.

  “No.” She trailed her hand back down his back and cupped his ass. “I was trying to think of a higher grade than A+.” She turned her head and smiled at him. “So what are we going to do today?”

  “Never mess with a winning formula. How about this? I go beat a punching bag to death while you watch. You go swimming while I watch. I feed you. Then I give you a really hard problem to solve and you solve it. I feed you then I take you to bed.” He smiled at her. “How does that sound as a plan?”

  “Perfect,” she sighed.

  It was a perfect day, particularly the part where she got to watch him working out half naked. Hmmm. This time she didn’t have to pretend. She simply sat down and watched him, watched that wonderful body with all those muscles working in perfect harmony brutally beat the shit out of a bag.

  He knew she was watching him, but after a minute or two, she also sensed that he’d forgotten her, forgotten the world and was focused like a laser beam on wreaking havoc on a sand-filled leather bag.

  She knew he was focused because she recognized that expression, that intensity, that utter concentration. It was what she had when she was immersed in a task. When the world disappeared and you were one with the swim, or the code or the theorem. Not many people had that gift but she had it and Bennett had it in spades.

  In the apartment he was a perfectly affable companion. Easy-going and fun. Like a big Labrador or German Shephard, friendly and eager to please. She knew it was because he felt they were safe in the apartment itself, barring a bomb dropped from a plane taking out an entire wing of Sparrow Square.

  But the instant the apartment’s door closed behind them, he morphed into a Rottweiler.

  Though he knew she was wiping their faces from the system when they walked down the corridors and in the elevator going down to the pool, he was completely outwardly focused, his attention on a 360° circle around them. If the Art Deco wall sconces suddenly took flight and turned into drones, if ravenous Predator-like aliens dropped from the ceiling, if they found bad guys around corners, she had no doubt he’d be ready and with a plan.

  He relaxed a little — just a little — when she was in the pool, partly because he repeated yesterday’s trick of tying the handles of the only access doors with zip ties, watching her with his dark eyes as she swam her laps.

  She was perfectly safe. If anything, the danger came from within her.

  Her body felt … different. Well, she’d had more and better sex last night and this morning than … ever, really. Intimate muscles were sore and she was glad of warm water and exercise. She was intensely aware of her body those first few laps and was surprised at the effort it took to coordinate her limbs. She’d swum daily since she was seven. Her body took over the instant she hit the water.

  But today … well, it took some time to find her rhythm, and she was very aware of Bennett, sitting on a deck chair, watching her, focused on her. His attention felt like something tangible, like a hand touching her.

  He somehow knew when she started to flag, and when she popped her head up, pushing up her swim goggles, there he was with a huge hand held down to help her out.

  He lifted her out of the pool with no effort whatsoever and held out a towel for her, wrapping it around her. There was no one else around so she allowed herself to be wrapped like a mummy and stepped into his arms, leaning her head against his shoulder. It was the most extraordinary feeling, as if he could lend her his strength. Or rather, he placed his strength — all those long, lean muscles — at her service.

  He didn’t kiss her, though. His vigilance was unceasing. He held her tightly, but his head moved and he kept an eye on the doors.

  “How about you dry off upstairs?” he asked. She felt the rumble of his voice in his chest, ear against him.

  She blinked. “Sure.” And only on the trip back up to the apartment did she realize he wanted to minimize the time outside and, at least in theory, exposed.

  Once they were in the apartment, he relaxed that iron vigilance. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Why don’t you go shower and lunch will be ready when you come out?”

  She smiled up at him. “Cooked or catered?”

  “Catered. I ordered and I hope I got your tastes right. Tonight we’ll order in again, whatever you want. But I’ll cook you something special tomorrow.”

  A handsome man cooking for her. Didn’t get much better than that. “Sounds good. And this afternoon you’ll give me a problem to solve?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said softly. “Count on it.”

  Lunch was exactly to her tastes. French onion soup and a big fish platter to share, with fries and garlic mayonnaise. She ate everything an
d all but licked her fingers. “What are you going to cook for me tomorrow?”

  “Something healthy. You have the tastes of a twelve-year-old boy. I think you could probably live off pizza and burgers.”

  “I could,” she answered. “I have.”

  “You need a keeper,” he grumbled and her head shot up at that. Their eyes met with an almost magnetic clank. Electricity crackled in the air, a nearly visible arc running between them. Elle was surprised the fine hairs on her forearm didn’t rise. A band tightened around her chest and she forgot to breathe for a moment.

  He too looked electrified, dark eyes so intense they seemed to shine.

  She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look away from him, was utterly paralyzed. The words are you applying for the job? lingered on her lips and she had to bite them to keep the question in.

  Because, well.

  Having Bennett Cameron as a keeper didn’t sound bad, didn’t sound bad at all. He was a really good keeper.

  Elle traveled the world and she traveled alone, fully aware that a single woman was prey in most parts of the globe. So she was always alert and dedicated a lot of attention to her surroundings, and as a consequence was rarely completely relaxed when outside in the world. Feeling tense was a natural state.

  She hadn’t even realized it until now.

  Being with Bennett was like sinking into a warm bath. No need to feel any apprehension at all. She could sink right into her own mind and not pay any attention to the outside world, because, well, he was there. And nobody in his right mind would dare hurt her with Bennett at her side.

  It was exhilarating. Addictive. Extremely retro, probably primitive, but an amazing feeling.

  And on top of it, Bennett wasn’t in any way a bully or overbearing. She felt totally free to do as she pleased as long as it didn’t affect her safety. Though it did look like he was trying to nudge her toward a healthier diet. Which was okay, because when she was taken up with work, which was always, takeout was the default option.