Wicked Angel

by Sawyer Bennett

  But fuck, I really would like him to come with me.

  “You’re not,” he replies quickly. “It would be my pleasure.”

  This is it—an intense change of circumstances between us.

  Tilting my head, I say, “I thought you wanted boundaries. I thought we had agreed this was only about sex. You going on a date with me to an event is distinctly not within those boundaries.”

  Benjamin gives me a rakish grin. “If it helps, I do plan on fucking you after. Hell, maybe even at the event in one of the bathrooms or in the parking lot.”

  I can’t help the laugh that pops out of me. I haven’t seen this lighthearted, funny side of Benjamin before.

  I like it way too much.

  Benjamin takes my hands, giving them a squeeze. “Listen, maybe we should just play things by ear. I’m not going to lie. It seemed natural for me to offer to go with you tonight. It surprised even me. What I do know is I want to see you. I like being around you. So why not?”

  “It’s sort of like we’re friends with benefits,” I point out with a grin.

  “Maybe. I haven’t been a friend to so many people in a long time. Not sure I’m any good at it.”

  “Well, I can tell you that you’re very good at the benefits part,” I say with a laugh. “I’m willing to try the friend thing to see how that goes.”

  Benjamin’s hand comes to the back of my neck, and he pulls me toward him for a kiss.

  Just before our lips meet, he murmurs, “Friends with benefits. I’m liking the sound of that.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Benjamin

  Fancy dinners, award shows, charity events, operas… I’ve done it all throughout my life. It was nothing to put on a tux or suit to go out for a high-class evening.

  It’s a bit different for Elena. She comes from a working-class background, a single woman who owns her own business and lives a modest life. She has the misfortune of having a best friend who married into riches and a new lifestyle, and, to her consternation, wanted her to be part of that life, too.

  I’d wanted to drive to Henderson to pick Elena up, but she felt that was silly given we planned to stay at my new apartment the evening after the event. So she drove here to me. It offended my notions of gentlemanly manners, but I don’t know why. We’re just friends with benefits. Nothing wrong with Elena driving here to meet me so I can escort her to an event, right?

  I choose to meet her in the parking lot of my apartment rather than letting her come in. If she comes in, chances are I won’t let her out and we’ll miss the event.

  She doesn’t disappoint as she steps out of her little car that has almost a hundred thousand miles on it. Her ivory cocktail dress is strapless and incredibly elegant as it hangs in soft folds almost to her ankles. Her only jewelry is a pair of pearl earrings, and I’m wishing I had a strand of pearls to put around her neck. It would complement the dress and her skin tone, and my need to step up and accept this as something more than just friends with benefits.

  I move toward her, my cane clicking on the concrete walkway. For the first time since I met Elena, I’m a little self-conscious of it. Before, I didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought because I wasn’t trying to impress a goddamn person.

  But now, I wonder if Elena thinks it makes me less of a man. She’s never said a word. Never even looks at it when we’re walking together. She doesn’t shy away from the scars on my leg, even spends time lovingly stroking them when she’s sucking my cock.

  She speaks first as we come face to face. “Don’t you look handsome.”

  “Had to make an effort just so I could legit stand next to you and hold my head up high,” I reply smoothly, taking in her dress a second time. “You’re stunning.”

  I’m pleased when Elena blushes from my compliment, and it seems to chase my insecurities away. I hold my arm out, and she moves beside me to take it. She even thrusts her hip to the side, tapping it against mine playfully. “We do make a good-looking couple, that’s for sure.”

  Yes, we do.

  I lead Elena to my Audi, help her into the passenger seat, and I can feel the heavy press of her stare through the windshield as I walk around the front toward the driver’s side.

  When I get in, she turns in her seat to face me, putting her hand on my thigh. “Thank you again for going with me.”

  I smile back as I start the engine. “The evening has just started, but I’m confident in saying it’s my pleasure.”

  ♦

  “Why is it the Vegas elite give me the heebie-jeebies?” Elena asks out of the side of her mouth as we stand next to each other, sipping at our drinks. Wine for her and a bourbon for me, although my limit is two tonight since I drove. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t care about drinking past that limit and just take an Uber home, but for some reason, that just doesn’t appeal to me.

  I’ve got it in my mind that driving Elena to my new home in my car at the end of what I’m just going to go ahead and admit is a date is going to be fulfilling for some reason. I can’t overanalyze, and I decide to just go with it.

  “As a former member of the heebie-jeebies club,” I say dryly as my gaze scans the room, “I think it’s because they’re so unapproachable. So into themselves.”

  Elena’s laugh is light and tinkling. “I’m glad you renounced your membership.”

  It’s true I’m no longer a member of the inner circle. I let my country club membership expire, I don’t golf with the “guys” anymore, and my social game got flushed because I had no interest in it. Throwing dinner parties was sort of April’s thing, so I don’t miss that in the slightest.

  Maybe the golf. I truly did love that.

  “I imagine it was difficult watching Jorie enter into this world,” I say.

  She tilts her chin, eyes meeting mine, and shrugs. “She’s still the same old Jorie. And Walsh is cool, but when you’re a member of this level of society, you do have to play along with these folks. I get it. Walsh does business with most of them, and a lot of back scratching goes on.”

  That’s true. Most of these social events are just cover for the genuine business that happens among the Vegas elite.

  “So what’s your idea of a good social get-together?” I ask Elena, because the only thing I know about her so far is she’s best friends with Jorie. I don’t know much about her friends otherwise.

  “A backyard barbeque,” she answers without hesitation, a grin on her face that looks like she’s even at this moment, perhaps fondly, remembering just such an event. Her voice is a little dreamy. “Ribs, burgers, dogs on the grill. Cold beer. Music blaring. Kids running through the backyard sprinkler to stay cool on a hot day.”

  I can see it. Elena wearing cut-off shorts and maybe a bikini top, because I’ll always picture her being sexy. Talking and laughing with family and friends. Running through the sprinkler with the kids because why wouldn’t she? She’s fun, spirited, and isn’t afraid to be silly.

  April would have never done that, and I have immediate guilt for comparing them. My mind doesn’t often go there, and that’s mostly because I’ve always had April firmly locked up and tucked away.

  But it’s true. April would have been dressed in a pretty summer dress, hair and makeup done perfectly, and she would have been content to watch the kids getting wet and laugh. But she would have never joined in.

  “What about you?” she asks, and it breaks me out of my thoughts. I blink, taking a small sip of my bourbon so I can relish the taste and not the effect.

  Another memory hits, and I can’t help but smile. “My parents used to have backyard barbecues all the time while I was growing up. But it was always chicken wings. My dad loved them, and my mom was exceptionally good at making them. They were never big affairs—just a few close friends—but I can still smell those wings smoking on the grill.”

  “Did kids run through the sprinklers?” she asks, eyes sparkling.

  “We had a pool,” I say with a laugh. “We were all swimming.”

  “Such
an elitist,” she drawls playfully. “But sounds like fun times.”

  “They were.” I remember them fondly, and I realize… I haven’t been allowing myself to focus on any of my memories, including childhood. I’ve shut everything from the past off, not just those surrounding April and Cassidy.

  A sudden longing for my mother hits me. It’s so intense my injured leg starts to shake a bit in weakness. I grip the handle of my cane, leaning a little heavier on it.

  My mother and I were super close prior to the accident. I was the quintessential mama’s boy. So was my older brother for that matter. We both love our dad, but it was our mother we always turned to in hard times.

  She was the one who never left my side in the hospital.

  She was the one who told me about April and Cassidy.

  She handled dealing with my doctors, paying my personal bills for me, and then handling funeral arrangements. She did all of that while I systematically shut down my emotions, which also meant cutting her out as well.

  She took care of me while I offered her nothing in return, and the regret is intensely painful.

  After I recovered enough to handle things on my own, she returned to Michigan at my insistence. She respected my space, even though she hadn’t liked the way I had pushed her away.

  But she’s never given up on me. She’s always called and texted, and if I didn’t answer or respond, she let me be and just tried again the next day. Her persistence never annoyed me as I understood it was beyond her control. It wasn’t fair when I asked her to stop acting like my mother. And if she was annoyed or hurt by my refusal to act like a loving son, she never let me know it.

  I should call her. Just out of the blue, for no other reason than just to hear her voice. I can’t remember the last time I did that, and it’s because I’ve been a selfish fuck this past year, only worrying about myself.

  I make a mental note that my mom will be next on my priority list tomorrow morning after Elena leaves. It will be a step I can take to start repairing that relationship as well.

  “Elena,” an excited female voice cuts through my thoughts. I turn to see Jorie and Walsh approaching.

  The women hug hard, rocking slightly back and forth. It’s clear by the expressions on their faces they’re incredibly tight. This past week, Elena had shared a little bit more about their friendship, dating back to childhood. Elena took Jorie in when her first marriage collapsed, and she’s also the one who introduced her to The Wicked Horse.

  Looking at Walsh and Jorie now, it’s hard to believe they’re members there. Or were members. Elena had told me they don’t go anymore.

  Which I can sort of understand. I originally went to The Wicked Horse to fulfill a specific purpose.

  To have feeling.

  I have that now with Elena. I don’t need the sex club trappings to experience it, although I have to say it’s still a hell of a lot of fun to go there with her.

  “Benjamin,” Walsh says with a wide smile of greeting, sticking his hand out. I expertly take the weight onto my bum left leg, flipping my cane to hold it under my arm, and transfer my drink into my left hand. My right hand grips onto his for a hearty shake.

  “Good to see you,” I reply smoothly, then lift my drink slightly. “Congrats on the award.”

  Walsh snorts. “You know I don’t give a shit about that stuff, man.”

  I can’t help but laugh, because yeah… even though Walsh plays the game, I know hanging with the Vegas elite on an enjoyable level really isn’t his thing. It’s only business.

  Jorie and Elena start chatting, even sidestepping a few feet away from us. I don’t like the distance between us, and I’m wondering why. Because I’m now forced to talk to Walsh or because I just like having her near me?

  Regardless, Walsh doesn’t give me an opportunity to analyze it further. “You up for some golf next weekend?”

  I blink in surprise. I haven’t golfed since the accident or even considered it. The excuse comes quickly to my lips. “I’m so out of practice. I’d just hold you back.”

  “Got to get back into the swing of things sooner or later,” he replies, his gaze holding steady to me before dropping briefly to my leg. “Unless that thing’s holding you back?”

  Some would take offense, but I like he’s not afraid to call it as he sees it. I look down at my leg, my cane still under my arm before giving him my regard again. “Probably not. I mean… I use it more for taking weight off to keep the pain away, so I don’t have to take any medicine. Sort of just used to it now.”

  “So pop a few Tylenols and let’s do it,” he replies, his tone of voice suggesting he’s not going to take “no” for an answer.

  “Okay,” I reply on a whim. I mean, why the fuck not? I like Walsh, and I’d love to get back to golfing. I’m probably going to be hurting like a motherfucker after, but so what. “But how about we start out with just nine holes?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Walsh replies with a laugh, then his gaze slides over to Jorie and Elena for a moment. “I know you’ve been through a lot. Elena’s a strong girl, but you need to be careful with her.”

  I jerk in surprise, moving the end of my cane back down onto the floor for support. It’s just more of a natural feeling to me.

  My eyes study Walsh’s face, who is still regarding the women. A pleasant smile to go along with the words that are clear in their intent.

  “You don’t have to worry about me breaking her heart if that’s what you’re worried about.” I take a sip of my bourbon. “Elena and I are both the same. We don’t want a deep involvement. We’ve actually had quite a bit of discussion about it.”

  Walsh turns his attention back to me, a sly smile on his face. “And that’s exactly why you have to be careful. The mere fact you need to have discussions about it tells me it could become a problem. And I know how great Elena is. It could become a big problem for you.”

  “That’s not something you need to tell me,” I mutter as I take in her beauty while she talks to Jorie. I never can seem to get enough of looking at her. “I figured that out all on my own.”

  “Just don’t lie to yourself, Benjamin,” Walsh says, then starts to move toward Jorie. He gives me one last lingering glance, so his words sink in. Then he smiles. “See you on the links—Saturday, okay?”

  After I nod, Walsh whisks Jorie away to make social rounds.

  Elena moves back to my side, giving me a sympathetic smile. “That didn’t look too painful.”

  “Really?” I reply with an undercurrent of sarcasm. “Because he was all up in my business.”

  “Poor baby,” she coos, and I snicker.

  “Actually, he wants to play golf so I’m going to give a try,” I say blandly.

  “Oh, that’s awesome,” she replies with a full-on blinding smile.

  “He also thinks you and I are fooling ourselves,” I say.

  The smile slides away, and she tilts her head in confusion.

  “That you and I are just about the sex,” I explain. “That’s all we’ve got.”

  Elena waves her hand in dismissal. “Well, that’s simply not true. We decided we’re friends with benefits.”

  “We’re more, and you know it,” I reply, shocked by my own whim of an admission.

  Elena’s eyes go wide. “Are we?”

  I give a sigh, unsure of myself again. “I don’t know. I just know it’s more than sex, and it’s more than just a friendship. But what that means, I have no clue. Do you have any brilliant thoughts?”

  Grinning, Elena shakes her head. “That sounds about right, but I don’t know what it means either.”

  “Great,” I mutter dramatically, taking another small sip of my liquor, once again just enjoying the taste. “The blind leading the blind.”

  “We’re hot messes.” She laughs, slipping her arm through my elbow and leaning into me slightly.

  I don’t even compensate by pressing harder onto my cane. Instead, I take her weight all on my own and hold it without a thought
as to my ability to do so.

  CHAPTER 24

  Elena

  Hard to believe how radically things have changed in a week. It’s once again an early Sunday morning. As I come awake, I stretch. Hands above my head, I lengthen my body and feel my fingers brush against my wrought-iron headboard.

  A smile plays at my lips as I remember how diligently Benjamin worked last night to tie me to the metal scrolls. Arms corner to corner, legs spread wide and secured with silk rope. He fucked me so hard that I thought my bed would break. Luckily, it remained secure.

  As I stretch, my legs brush against Benjamin, who is currently sleeping on his stomach. Neither of us are long-term night cuddlers and have our comfortable sleeping positions, but we somehow always end up with our legs entwined.

  It’s been a week since we went from a “sex only” relationship to a dating one, and I have to say, I’m incredibly happy. Benjamin has made it easy on me to go out on a limb with him because we’ve both been transparent with our reasons for being reluctant in the first place.

  I realize it’s a bit of a bigger leap for Benjamin than me. My fears in getting involved with someone stem from repeatedly being taken advantage of. Sure, there was hurt involved, but I was tired of being disgusted in myself for falling for yet another codependent leech.

  Benjamin has suffered such intense and emotional loss, and his fears are a whole hell of a lot scarier than mine. And when I saw him willing to take that risk, to admit he’s ready to finally open himself up to possibility, there was just no way I couldn’t not leap off that ledge with him.

  We’ve settled into a routine based on our work schedules. If Benjamin has surgery, we stay at his place the night before. If he has regular patient rounds or office appointments, we stay at my place. Benjamin never once tried to make it seem like his job is more important. If anything, he’s recognized I work as hard in my career path as he does. Never once has he made me feel less than him by virtue of what we do for a living.

  When I slide my foot along the inside of Benjamin’s calf, he stirs. He’s not a heavy sleeper, and he always wakes up if I do. I’ll roll out of bed at two to go pee, thinking I’m being stealthy, and he’ll sit straight up to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”