by Piper Lawson
But I can see the emotion in mine. I’m looking up at him as if he’s the only man in the world.
“They wanted inspiration for poses,” I murmur, but my throat is dry.
“This is inspiring all right.”
I turn away for a second, shove a hand through my hair. I’m not embarrassed by my feelings, but I’m also aware that what I’m giving him in that photo is way more than either of us bargained for.
When I turn back, she’s typing on my phone. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she says innocently before handing the phone back. “I might be out late tonight studying.”
“No more deflowering. If you’re going to have sex, do it with a guy you actually like. Okay?“
“Are we talking ‘I’ll buy you a coffee’ like or ‘let’s go halfsies a phone plan’ like?”
“How about ‘I respect you and trust you enough to share a super personal experience with you’?”
She nods dutifully, but I swear there’s relief on her face. “Deal.” Then the relief is replaced by something that has me narrowing my gaze in suspicion. “Just remember. What I do, I do from love.”
I stare after her, mystified, as she rushes from my office.
Until I open my text messages and see she sent Ben the photo.
19
Ben’s office building’s always been impressive, and I appreciate the glass as I head for the elevator.
I smooth down my dress on the way up. I could’ve gone home and changed into something more casual. But this was easy. It’s not as if I want to see his reaction, especially since I didn’t get a text in response to Lily’s message.
The elevator doors open and I’m partway down the hall when a man walks out of an office.
“Xavier,” I say, surprised. Stupidly, I hadn’t worked through the part where Ben’s colleagues would see me.
“Daisy, how lovely to see you again. I trust you’re here to see Ben. Would you like to get a coffee until he’s available?”
“Sure.”
His assistant goes to get us drinks, and he waves me into one of the conference rooms.
I take a breath. Keeping up the cover story isn’t hard.
But alone with Ben’s senior partner?
I can do this, I decide.
“My wife was quite charmed by you,” Xavier begins.
“I enjoyed our dinner. And it was nice to work off the calories beforehand.”
He laughs. “I heard you took Ben away for the weekend.”
“We were at Martha’s Vineyard for a client of mine.”
“Ahh. Relaxing surroundings, excellent company. You know, I’ve been impressed by his commitment to you.”
The hairs on my neck lift. It’s an occupational hazard that I read too much subtext where there is none, but suddenly, I’m on guard.
“Ben’s always pursued what he wants with relentless focus,” I say carefully. “He won’t let anything get in his way.”
I trail off as Xavier’s attention shifts to the hall behind me. Ben fills the doorway, dress pants covering his strong legs and a dark blue sweater clinging to every muscle of his torso. The slightest bit of scruff follows his cut jaw, lighter than the dark hair falling across his forehead.
Bottomless eyes crinkle at the corners as Ben looks between us. “This is a surprise.”
“She came to visit you at work. You’re a lucky man.”
I follow Ben to his office. Once we’re inside, he says, “You’re gunning for extra credit, by having coffee with Xavier.”
“I was coming to see you. He found me first.”
Ben sits on the corner of his desk. “I thought you were busy today. Not that I’m not glad to see you, but I have to be on a conference call soon. If you’d given me a heads-up, we could’ve made plans.”
“This won’t take long.”
He gestures to the guest seat across from his desk. That feels too formal, so I cross to the windows that look out over the skyline.
“You got a text message with a photo of us from the Vineyard," I say.
"Yes."
“Lil sent it. There wasn’t an agenda behind it, or if there was, it wasn’t mine.”
Ben shifts off the desk and rounds to his chair, sinking into it with grace and confidence. “What would that agenda be?”
“She thinks we should be together.”
We study each other, the seconds ticking by with the dull thudding of my heart.
He doesn’t flinch.
“I don’t need a photo to tell me you’re beautiful,” he says at last. “That when you look at me as if I’m a god, I feel like one. But I liked it anyway.”
He has a conviction that wasn’t present on our way back from the Vineyard, and it sends a shot of adrenaline and desire through me.
“Sunday morning, you seemed as if you had reservations about what happened between us.”
“I had to get my head on straight about something,” he admits. “And now it is.”
Of course it is. My friend never languishes in indecision for long.
“I want you,” Ben says. “I've been arguing with the fact that I want you. I hate arguing with the inevitable. I’m done. We said we’d pretend for the month. Let’s go all in.”
“All in,” I echo.
“We’re already acting like we can’t keep our hands off each other. Seems the joke’s on us.”
“You want sex.” I need to clarify, because it sounds as if he’s talking about something bigger than I expected, something I hadn’t let myself hope for.
“I want you. Yes, I want to fuck you.” A shiver runs through me, all the way to my toes. His wolfish smile tells me he knows it. “All I do is draw borders around things in my life. It’s always been easy, but when it comes to you… it’s harder than I imagined.”
But he’s still trying to draw boundaries around it, even after admitting he can’t.
I know it, even if he doesn’t, because I know him.
“At my lunch meeting,” he goes on, “the only thing I could think about was getting out of there so I could jerk off. While I signed the bill, I was picturing you on your knees.”
Every muscle in me liquefies.
His words are thrilling, not least because he’s saying them to me. Not Vi, not some other woman.
If he can put boundaries on this, maybe I can too. Not stop myself for caring for him—I wouldn’t want to if I could—but keep myself from being ruled by my feelings.
My relationship with Ben has always meant a lot to me, and the possibility it could change, deepen into real intimacy, makes me ache.
I cross to Ben, perching on the corner of the desk spot he vacated.
“Question,” I say.
Ben’s eyes cloud. I love the flare of his nostrils that tells me he’s uncertain for the first time.
The power switch turns me on even more. I know he wants me, but he’s restraining myself, letting me make the choice, because he cares about me and respects me.
I lift my chin. “In this fantasy of yours… where did you picture me?”
Ben’s expression turns molten. He shifts back, watching me from half-lidded eyes, and my gaze flicks to the carpet at his feet. “Where the fuck do you think?”
I’m soaked and there’s a good chance I’ll leave a mark on this desk when I get up, because now his fantasy is mine, too.
Me taking him out of those dress pants, running my nails lightly along his underside before I take him into my mouth.
I want to feel him slide against my tongue, to learn what makes him twitch, and praise me, and curse me.
“And here I thought you liked my mouth for its opinions,” I say, my heart hammering in my ears.
His slow grin is hot as sin. “I can like it for both. You can be smart and sexy. Sweet and powerful. Awkward and irresistible.”
The growing tent in his pants provides evidence of his words, and I love the idea of him using me that way.
He reaches for my knee and pulls me
closer. “I know we’re friends first, and we always will be. But don’t pretend the other night in that hotel room wasn’t the best sex you’ve had in a long time. Because it was for me. When I saw you talking to Xavier, winding him around your finger, it turned me on even more.” He brushes a thumb over my lower lip, and I want to suck it into my mouth. “Our friendship will always come first. But when I close my eyes, it's you I think of.”
My chest tightens. I’ve wanted so damned long to hear those words, to know he wants me so powerfully.
I meet Ben’s expectant gaze once again, my heartrate almost back to normal. “What about the rest of the time?”
It’s a question I need him to answer not only for my sake, but for his.
He frowns. “What rest of the time?”
“When you’re stressed. When you’re frustrated. When you see something that surprises you. Who do you think of then?”
His eyes cloud.
A notification dings on his computer, and he curses. “That’s my video call. Thank fuck it's from the chest up.” He exhales hard. “To be continued?”
I nod. “To be continued.”
I turn to leave, aroused by our exchange and disappointed at once. I set Jet back on the coffee table as I head for the door.
A few keyboard and mouse clicks behind me say he’s preparing for his call.
But before he does, he answers me.
“It’s always you.”
The three abrupt words have me turning back at the door.
Ben’s switched into full-on business mode, introducing himself in that low, commanding voice. His gaze meets mine for a moment over the computer.
It’s always you.
This isn’t college anymore. Maybe he’s not in love with me, or the kind of man who’d rearrange his life for love anyway… but I’ve seen him be vulnerable. There are cracks in his armor, and I want to see more.
Instead of opening the door, I flick the lock.
His attention snaps to me.
I cross back to him, one slow step after another.
When I sink to my knees, the desk blocks out his face so I miss his response.
But as I crawl under his desk, placing a hand on each of his shins when I reach the other side and lifting my gaze, I’m struck by it.
Ben’s face is full of disbelief and admiration, plus a wanting to intense it might scorch me from the inside out.
The idea that he wants this as much as I do, more even, has my throat going dry.
The other night I felt him inside me, but I didn’t get to taste him, to learn his shape with my lips and tongue.
Now, I get to.
Ben hits a key on his keyboard, presumably muting himself. “The fuck are you doing?”
His voice is gravel, an octave lower than usual and twice as rough.
I answer without words, my palm stroking experimentally up the bulge in his dress pants. His cock twitches under my hand, but his gaze stays locked on the screen in front of him.
So I do it again.
This time his thighs clench and his gaze flicks down to meet mine. It’s full of warning and challenge. Don’t you dare.
An illicit thrill races through me. Watch me.
I shift forward to trace my hands over him, the ridges and planes. His hand blocks my access to his belt and I lick my lips. His attention goes back to the screen, but he exhales hard enough I can hear it.
I rub him through his pants, slow strokes that make him shift forward in his chair for more friction.
The next time I reach for his belt, he lets me.
I unfasten it with eager hands. The button on his pants is next, then the zipper.
Ben clears his throat and hits a button on his mic. “Yes, let’s discuss that item in more detail.”
His gray boxer briefs are stretched tight, marked by a single wet spot that makes me suck in a breath.
The hand with the cut has stopped stinging, and I rest it on his knee as I wrap my other hand around him through the fabric. I pump him one, twice just to feel his thighs flex, before reaching into his shorts to pull him out.
Cocks are not, aesthetically speaking, the most beautiful sex organ.
Ben’s is.
He’s long and hard, swollen as if he’s trying to escape his own skin. Knowing I made him like this steals my breath.
“Fine,” Ben says in his business voice. “Thank you for elaborating.”
He hits a keystroke again, muting himself. He rests an elbow on the desk, his fist in front of his mouth, a seemingly casual gesture to block his lips from the screen. “You want to taste me so badly you couldn’t wait?”
That rasp, softened by fondness, is for my ears alone.
“Friends don’t let friends suffer through calls sexually frustrated. They might make terrible business decisions.”
He snorts in surprise, the sound making my lips twitch, too.
His fingers thread in my hair, stroking my scalp in a way that feels way too good.
It spurs me on.
I unfasten the bottom button of his shirt, then graze my nails down the silky skin over his taut abs.
He shudders as I wrap my hand around his cock once more, squeezing hard at the base. “Get comfortable.”
“Impossible,” he grinds out. His hand tightens on the armrest.
“If I move forward, will I be in the frame?” I murmur from my knees.
He flexes under my touch, a ghost of a smile on his face as he meets my gaze for a fleeting second. “No. But you’ll be in my fucking dreams."
This is going to be one memorable video call.
My heart hammering a seductive and foreign rhythm against my back, I shift forward to lean my weight on the chair between his spread thighs.
I lick a trail up the underside of his shaft, my tongue darting over the bead of moisture at his tip under his heavy-lidded gaze.
Ben’s rough exhale is everything.
But it’s the look of anticipation on his face that has me unable to resist parting my lips at the end of the next lick to take him into my mouth.
He told me once he liked watching me struggle.
I like watching him struggle too.
When I suck him in as far as he’ll go, every muscle in him tightens at once.
His hips flex in the chair, the hard lines of his abs rippling as I summon everything I’ve ever learned about giving an epic blowjob.
I use each ounce of my attention to detail to memorize what makes him breathe more shallowly, what makes his muscles clench.
I build him up with my hands, my mouth, wanting all of him. Listening to him interact with the call occasionally, his voice dark and shallow.
Suddenly he utters a long, low groan that has me stiffening in alarm.
I hope the walls are soundproof. If not…
He unmutes. “Gentlemen, you’re going to have to excuse me for two minutes. I’ll be right back.”
He slams the lid of his notebook, yanking off the headphones and tossing them on the desk. “I’m gonna come,” he growls. “If you don’t want me to do it in your mouth, this is your first and last warning.”
His hand fists in my hair along with the warning—not to hold me on him, to give me the chance to back off.
I don’t.
I want all of Ben, and it doesn’t stop here.
I meet his gaze as I take him as far back as I can.
He realizes what I’m doing and grips me tighter.
Yes.
It’s rough, rougher than I’m used to, but I’m riding the edge right there with him.
He pulses, coming down my throat in a hot stream that feels endless.
I swallow all of it as if it’s a prize.
In a way, it is—it’s evidence of this moment.
I shift back on my heels and hit my head on the desk.
Ben’s eyes widen immediately.
“Ouch,” I say, wincing, as he feels the back of my head.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” I
say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
The concern evaporates, leaving only the satisfaction of what we just did, coupled with a tension reminding me we could do so much more.
“Hope that wasn’t an important call,” I murmur as I rise.
He grabs my wrist and tugs me hard enough I tumble into his lap.
“It was.” His dark eyes are a gorgeous swirl of smug pleasure and anticipation.
My breasts are tingling, and I know I’m soaked.
“Then you better get back on it,” I say.
His eyes flash as I shift out of his lap. “That’s it?”
I scoff, straightening my clothes. “I delivered a grade-A fantasy to your office on demand. This far exceeds the criteria for friendship, or fake dating.”
“Hey friend,” he calls when I get to the door.
I turn back to see him standing, fastening his pants.
“You’re going to pay for this.”
“Sounds like some vague male bullshit.” I smile the smile of a woman who made a king give up his crown.
He grabs his headphones, winding the cord around his hand as he crosses to me and lays a hand on the door behind my head. “I assure you, it’s quite concrete. I’m going to take you apart again and again until you beg me to put you back together.”
The scent of sex and Ben blend together, a heady cocktail that makes me want to rethink my departure, but I hold strong.
“That doesn’t sound like me.”
He claims my mouth in a hard kiss that leaves me breathless.
Ben’s lips curve in a smile that's familiar enough I ache and wicked enough I tremble.
“That’s why I’m going to enjoy it so much.”
20
Since Daisy came to the office last week, we've both been looking for excuses to see one another. At least, in the moments we can find around work and her being home for Lil.
I’ve dreamed up new places to put Jet so I can text her pictures.
I've canceled work lunches, breakfasts, for an excuse to see Daisy.
Those handful of moments across from her at restaurants are nowhere near enough.
All I can think of is being inside her again. Since the Vineyard more than a week ago, it’s all I can think about.
