by Jamie Craig
Ana’s mouth began to water as she imagined him gripping his thick shaft. There were many things she wanted to do to him, but at that moment, she only wanted to replace his hand with hers. She wanted to feel the texture of his smooth skin, the slick pre-come at the tip. She wanted to rub her face against his cock and smell his hot skin.
“I am. God, Ben, I am so wet for you right now.” She gulped for breath, caressing her upper thigh. “I haven’t touched myself yet. I’m a little scared I’ll come the second I do.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” These words were quicker, a little breathier, definitely louder. “I’m so close to shooting that I’m not completely sure where I left off. Did I have my mouth on your pussy yet? Because that’s where I want it. I want to lick all your juices from your thighs and then feel you wrap those long legs of yours around my head to pull me in to finish you off.”
Ana wiggled out of her shorts, pushing them down to her knees. She promised herself if Ben called her again—and he probably would—she would not bother with clothes. She scraped her nail over her sensitive clit, her breath catching in her throat at the contact. She might have been able to resist more, until he mentioned how close he was to coming. The thought of wrapping her legs around his head demolished the last of her resistance.
She pinched her clit gently, her hips bucking against her hand. “Ben…” Her breath came rapidly, building in volume until each gasp was a sharp moan.
His answering groan was even louder. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” he rasped. “You saying my name…that’s been the best part about fantasizing about you. But it didn’t even come close to the…fuck…” Each shallow breath reached through the phone, seeped into her skin, and fanned the flames higher. “Not even close to the real thing…oh, fuck, Ana…”
Heat swept through, every inch of her body tingling. She tensed, jerking against her fingers, and panted his name as wave after wave of pleasure took her. Her pussy clenched and pulsed, and at that moment, she would have given anything to feel his cock inside of her, feel him above and against her.
Ana melted into the bed, her body trembling with small aftershocks. “I can’t believe how hard you can make me come by just talking.”
Ben took so long to answer that she wondered if he was even still there. “Maybe I’m on the wrong career path,” he teased. He sounded as breathless as she felt. “But something tells me any calls I got wouldn’t be even a fraction as hot as you are.”
Ana laughed shakily. “I think next time you call, I might try to participate more in the conversation.”
“I think you participated just fine. I came, didn’t I?”
“It certainly sounded like it,” Ana said, rolling onto her stomach and grinding her hips against the mattress. It was just enough to remind her she wanted more from him. “I think I like talking more than chatting. What about you?”
“Definitely. But seeing you next week is going to be even better. I promise you.”
“I believe you,” Ana said, knowing that the next six days would probably be the longest six days of her life.
Chapter 4
After visiting The Ledge almost every other week for fifteen years, Ana had gotten to know the owners, Steve and Tera, quite well. So well, in fact, that she no longer had to wait in line for hours in order to stake out a good spot in the club. They allowed her to sneak in through the service door, and that was how she always managed to snag one of only four tables in the tiny space.
The legal capacity for The Ledge couldn’t have been more than one hundred people, but Steve always managed to wedge in at least twice that many. If the fire department ever came to check on the place, Steve would probably get shut down in a second. He apparently was comfortable taking that chance.
Ana settled at the high table with a rum and Coke, watching the front door like a hawk as her fellow fans began to filter into the building. They immediately crowded the front of the stage, already jockeying for position, though the headliners wouldn’t be making an appearance for at least another three hours. Music from Decrepit Moon’s second album blasted from the speakers, and many of the girls were already in the middle of the floor, dancing and singing along.
But Ana never looked away from the door.
When the glimpse of a blue sweater caught her attention, her hand tightened around her glass, her fingers slipping against the condensation. She sat up a little straighter and shifted to the side, in order to see around the throng of people who were blocking the person from view. The height was right. She could even see light brown hair, slightly wavy and sexily unkempt. She just couldn’t see him.
And then she did.
The body was almost exactly as she’d imagined. Long and lean, with legs appearing even longer in black leather pants that left very little to the imagination. A narrow waist accentuated his broader shoulders, with the faintest of hair visible at the v-neck of his sweater.
It was the face that made her heart stop. The strong jaw. The slightest of stubble over his chin and upper lip. Eyes piercing as they swept through the club. Their color was distinguishable even from where she sat. He didn’t look like any math professor she had ever seen.
He also didn’t look old enough to be teaching in the first place.
Ana’s lungs seized. She gasped for breath, or tried to gasp for breath, but she was hyperventilating. He was a kid. A baby. Old enough to get into The Ledge, but the doors were open to eighteen and older, so all that told her was he wasn’t a minor. I won’t be arrested for soliciting a minor. Or being a pedophile. Oh, Jesus H. Christ.
Ana looked around frantically. He hadn’t noticed her yet. In fact, some little blonde thing was hanging off his arm and laughing, and she seemed to have him sufficiently distracted. Of course, she’s distracting him. She’s his age. Ana thought she could make it back to the kitchen and out the service door again. She’d miss seeing Decrepit Moon, but she could catch them when they returned to town.
He looked up just before she made her move, and their eyes locked. Ana knew there would be no graceful exit for her.
He didn’t look away. Tilting his head slightly toward the blonde, he said something as he unfolded her fingers from his arm, but not once did his eyes look away from Ana. A couple, more wrapped up in each other than where they were going, blocked his way, but he moved around them, leaving the blonde behind, all without looking away. He took long strides around the edge of the room, steps that drew attention to the way the leather moved against his legs, and still, he didn’t look away from her.
And he didn’t stop. Not until he had come around to where she sat frozen on her side of the small table, cupped her face with long, nimble fingers, and bowed his head to kiss her.
Ana let it happen because she wanted to prove she’d feel nothing. It would be like kissing her brother or something. Then she’d be able to walk away from him with no hard feelings. I’m sorry, Ben. It’s not you, there’s just no chemistry.
But there was chemistry. A great deal of chemistry. She responded to the kiss before she could even think. His lips were soft yet firm, and he smelled like cinnamon. He coaxed her lips apart slowly, taking his time to invade her mouth with the tip of his tongue. She wanted to resist him. She knew she should resist him, but each caress of his mouth sent her pulse racing.
“Hello, Ana,” he breathed. He didn’t withdraw, opting instead to skim his lips along her jaw, just as he’d described the first time they’d talked on the phone. Brushing the back of his fingers down her neck, he stopped at her ear, the tip of his tongue darting out to trace the shell. “God, you’re even more beautiful than I thought you’d be.”
Ana froze, the familiar cadence of his voice sending a cascade of chills down her spine. “And you’re younger,” she blurted.
He pulled back to look at her. This close, the color of his eyes was all too clear, and she had the irrational thought that his mother was right about the shade. “I told you I was in my twenties.
Why is that suddenly a problem?”
“It’s suddenly a problem because you’re…how old are you?”
His mouth quirked. Damn it, even his smile was gorgeous. “Twenty-two. Older than Travis, younger than Neil, remember?”
“Twenty-two?” she repeated dumbly. It was better than she expected, but somehow, it was worse. “Ben…I’m sorry, but this isn’t…look, you’re great but this is not going to work for me.” She might have sounded more convincing if he wasn’t still touching her.
“Why not?”
“Because,” she said tightly, “I am old enough to be your mother. Technically. That’s why not.”
“I thought we decided that age doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter when the age difference is five or six years. Maybe seven. It matters a great deal when the age difference constitutes a generational gap.” Ana finally pulled away from his hand. “I am sixteen years older than you,” she added, in case the problem still wasn’t clear.
Ben stayed silent, regarding her as if he expected her to say something more. When it was clear she was done, he grabbed one of the other chairs and pulled it close, perching on it so that their knees touched.
“I think you’re making a problem where there isn’t one,” he said. Reaching out, he rested one hand on the back of her seat, using it to box her in as he leaned toward her. “We get along great, we share common interests, and I don’t think you find me completely repulsive. I know I don’t put you in that camp. So why can’t we sit here and talk, listen to the band when they come out, and then get a bite to eat afterward like we planned? Aren’t we friends, Ana?”
No part of Ana wanted anything to do with what he suggested. Her brain still insisted she get the hell out of there and find a guy her own age. This is what happens when you insist on acting like you’re twenty, Ana-girl. When are you going to grow up? The rest of her wanted to drag him out to her car, or to the nearest dark corner, and have her wicked way with him until they were both sated and exhausted.
“We are friends,” Ana said softly. She looked over his shoulder to see the blonde girl shooting daggers at her from the dance floor. “Who is that?”
Ben only cast a cursory glance back to see who she was talking about. “Jessica. She cornered me outside. I told her I was meeting someone, but I don’t think she heard me.” His eyes twinkled as he leaned a little closer. “We didn’t even make it to the front door before she was trying to bribe me with bootlegs. And they weren’t even good ones.”
Ana snorted. “I told you so.” She glanced at him, studying his face. “She’s cute, though. Cuter than the picture in her profile lets on.”
“No, the word I think you’re looking for is insipid.”
Ana had briefly considered using Jessica as an excuse to leave, but his lack of interest was bordering on total indifference. Ana could still go that route, but she’d look utterly insane in the process, and she still had some dignity left.
“She’s probably just used to getting her way. I mean, look at all the…bootlegs she has to offer.”
His head tilted to the side, his eyes narrowing in thoughtful contemplation. “It’s not going to work, you know. You’re not going to distract me with her. There’s only one woman who interests me here tonight, and for some inexplicable reason, she’s being completely stubborn. Beautiful, but stubborn.”
“It’s not inexplicable,” she countered. “When you said you were younger than Neil, I thought you meant like a year younger. Which, granted, would still make you like ten years younger than me, but I could live with that.” She leaned back in her chair. “So are you a grad student?”
“Yes. But I even told you what I taught. Who else did you think got assigned the shit baby classes?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had math class in twenty years, Ben. Besides, most of the people in my graduate program were in their late twenties and thirties, so that doesn’t really tell me anything, does it?” Ana demanded, perhaps a little too defensively.
It didn’t faze him, however, and his constant reminders over the past month that he was a patient man suddenly made a lot more sense. “Maybe not,” he conceded. “I’m sorry. If I’d known you were going to react this way, I would’ve said something. I honestly thought it didn’t matter, because frankly, it doesn’t to me. You’re still Ana. I’m still Ben. You’re still the most amazing woman I’ve met in a very long time, and last time I checked, I was still the guy who got you wet just by talking to you.” His voice was soft, but his eyes burned intently on her. “So please tell me. Which part of that has changed?”
“None of that has changed,” she muttered, averting her eyes. None of it, much to her chagrin. “But you just…surprised me. Ben, you don’t even look twenty-two. I mean, when you first came in, I was seriously scared you were just passing off a fake ID.” She looked at him again. “Okay, maybe that was just surprise coloring my vision. But still.”
“Would it be easier to make the adjustment if you weren’t looking at me?”
Ana took a deep breath. “Not that you’re not easy on the eyes, but what have you got in mind?”
Rising from his seat, Ben held his hand out to her in silent request, staying like that until she took it. He pulled her to her feet, then reached around her to reposition her chair so that the high back would be at her side when she sat down.
“You know my voice already,” he said as he guided her back into the chair. He pulled his as close as it would go and sat again, spreading his knees while his arm looped around her waist. In the next moment, her back met the hard wall of his chest, and his mouth was at her ear, nuzzling for a moment before adding, “We’ll work up to the rest of it. Right now, I want you to know how good we fit together. Somehow, I knew that we would.”
Ana rested one hand on his knee, the leather warm beneath her fingers. Everything inside her seemed to be quivering—with excitement, with desire, with nerves. They did fit well together, which did nothing but undermine her efforts to be strong. How could she resist him when he felt absolutely perfect against her back, and his voice at her ear made her shiver?
“We do.” Now that she wasn’t looking at him, she felt a bit less discombobulated. “I suppose I should look at the bright side. You definitely match your voice.”
His arm was still strong around her waist, and his mouth was still at her ear, and now, his fingers were stroking her stomach, drawing shapes that she was sure he could name but she could only identify as pure pleasure where they scalded through her shirt. There was a definite pressure at the top of her ass that could only be his arousal, and, God, those pants made it impossible not to feel his strong legs pressed against hers. “I’m sure we can find another bright side to this if we try hard enough,” he was saying. “But can I ask one thing for tonight?”
“You can ask.”
“Let me see you smile just once.”
“I will.” It seemed like an easy promise to make. She was at her favorite club, to see her favorite band, and regardless of how young he was, he was still touching her, and his voice was still washing over her. Ana relaxed against his chest. “At least once.”
The distinct brush of a light kiss across her ear made her lashes flutter for a moment before she got control again. “See, now that’s giving me hope for more,” Ben said. “Maybe I should have asked for two smiles.”
“Maybe,” she sighed. “I guess the fact I’m still here means anything is possible tonight.”
* * * *
They sat like that for the next three hours, Ben only moving to stand and go get drinks when their glasses ran empty. Ana took those minutes when he was gone to turn and watch him at the bar, wondering yet again why she didn’t pick up and leave when she got the opportunity. He was too young. It didn’t matter how attractive or amusing he was; sixteen years was a lot of time. But then he’d wind his way back through the crowd, and she would still be sitting there, and they’d resume their positions on the chairs, his body solid behind hers.
When Decrepit Moon finally came out, she didn’t even get up to dance like she normally would. Ana wasn’t sure why, though she suspected part of it had to do with how good he felt. The conversation he’d kept going during the opening act faded away as he became absorbed in the music, but the deliberate touches along her stomach didn’t. It almost made it difficult to pay attention to the band. But only almost.
Her blood was pounding to the rhythm of the music by the time Decrepit Moon started playing one of their few ballads. It was a lethargic, bluesy number off the first album, one of Ana’s favorites, and it made her think of standing under a slow-moving fan on a hot summer night. She usually listened to it with her eyes closed, but with Ben at her back, she wasn’t sure she’d relax enough to give herself over to it.
“I love this song.” They were the first words he’d uttered since the band had taken the stage, and the fresh reminder of his voice made goose bumps sprinkle down her arm. “Will you dance with me?”
Ana didn’t know if she wanted to dance with him, or she just wanted to get up and move to the music. But she nodded, and the simple inclination of her head was all he needed. The dance floor was absolutely packed with bodies, all of them swaying to the music, sweat glistening on their arms and flushed faces. Ben didn’t take her out to the floor. He took her hand and pushed the chairs aside, clearing a space in front of the table, before pulling her against him. She bit back a soft moan of pleasure as her tight nipples brushed against his chest.
His hand splayed across her lower back, holding their hips together as they began to move with the slow, methodical beat. The outline of his cock was undeniable, but it was the intent in his eyes that Ana found the most unsettling. Regardless of how she felt about the situation, Ben had meant every word he’d said. It was there, written on his face, etched in the hard lines of his body. When his hand slid down, molding over her ass to grind them even closer, she shivered.
