by Apryl Baker
“They don’t want to come,” I shout back, glancing around, scratching the back of my head. “I think I’m gonna call it a night and go home.”
“Okay.” Jacob smiles. “Want me to take you home?”
Cold feet. That’s what they call the act of backing out of something at the last minute. My feet aren’t just cold. My feet are freezing. If Ben wants to work for my family, that’s fine. Whatever happens is on him. I shouldn’t risk my safety trying to protect him.
“Um…”
“She’s good.”
I startle at the rough snap beside me as Ben storms down the sidewalk. I take a minute step back as he swallows the distance between us, looking as devastating as ever.
“You sure?”
I cringe at Jacob’s question, realizing I don’t know Ben’s temperament either. He could be a madman. I swiftly nod, unable to take my eyes off Ben, who glares down his straight nose at me, and I swallow hard.
“Ben is going to take me home.”
Ben’s jaw ticks and my body weakens as his arresting aggression rolls off of him in waves. I’ve really made him angry tonight. The way he’s poised his eyebrows, with a challenging kink in their curve, suggests he’s reached the end of his rope.
Jacob curses and drops back into his car. The black Mustang comes to life with a roar and I jump as he floors it out, racing off like an idiot. Jacob’s tires screech in the distance, followed by the various honks of other drivers, and I’m thankful Ben showed up in time to stop me from being polite and getting in Jacob’s car, even though I didn’t want to.
“Ben…”
“You know where James has parked. I suggest you start walking before I say something I’ll regret.”
Okay…fair enough. Pursing my lips, I turn around, slipping my cellphone into my handbag. My heels click along the pavement and I desperately try to keep my focus on each crack as I pass them by, not wanting to lose a shoe or roll my ankle. The more I focus on my feet, however, the more I notice a niggling at the back of my heel. Soon, that niggling turns into full blown fire. I stop with a groan.
“My feet hurt.”
He nudges my shoulder. “It’s not far, princess.”
Princess? I whirl around to face him. “Stop calling me that.”
“I will, when you stop acting like one.”
Tears well in my eyes—irrational tears. Ones born of alcohol and pain. He can say what he wants about me. It isn’t wrong. I’ve been horrible since I saw him having breakfast with my father in my backyard.
“I…” I clear my throat. “I think I have a blister.”
The longer I stay in these shoes, the more I notice the pain. I swipe at my cheek and peer up at Ben, who watches me closely, his head tilted, his eyebrows furrowed. He doesn’t trust me.
“You want me to carry you?”
I scoff with a sniffle. “In this dress? No.”
“Then what do you want?” His voice holds an air of impatience and I don’t like it.
I was going to ask him to take my shoes off, but he’ll only mock me for that too. Tsking, I bend over and my handbag slides down my arm and plonks to the ground, pulling me off balance.
I put my hand out and squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it doesn’t come.
“Christ,” Ben curses, grabbing my arm in one hand while smoothing a large, rough palm over the small of my back. He eases me upright and my head spins, my eyes fluttering open.
I grin at him. “I thought you were going to let me fall on my ass next time.”
“I thought about it.”
I touch his bicep to steady myself and I realize he’s taken off his sports jacket. Only thin, silky fabric separates my warm, damp skin from his. I try not to let it bother me, but there’s something about that thought that gets me hot underneath my metaphorical collar.
“Hold onto this for me.” Releasing me, he drapes his sports jacket over my shoulders and I turn my head into the fabric to smell it, leaning against the club’s concrete wall behind me.
It smells like him…like he did the night we spent together. Earth. Man. A perfect mix of sugar and spice.
Not paying me any attention, Ben crouches before me, placing one gentle hand on the back of my calf and the other on my heel. I become hyperaware of his bare skin on mine and goosebumps erupt along the narrow of my spine.
“Lift,” he orders and I do as I’m told.
Cool air swoops in and kisses my aching feet, and I can’t help the melting sigh that seeps from my lips. I place my tender sole against the uneven concrete and snuggle further into his sports jacket as he removes my second heel and straightens his stance.
“Better?”
I nod without a smile. “Much. Thank you.”
I push off the wall and stroll the rest of the alley, moving at a snail’s pace so I don’t end up with a new shoe, one made of syringes and shards of broken glass. I exhale in relief when I spot my town car by the club’s rear entry and James’s silhouette inside. As usual, he jumps out as I approach, but Ben waves him off. “I’ve got it, James. Thanks.”
James returns to the driver’s seat and Ben opens the door for me. I slip inside and shuffle along the leather seats to the far door, placing my handbag on my lap. Once Ben joins me, he slams the door shut and raises the partition between us and James, placing my heels neatly in the space beside him.
With my head against the window, I sit in silence for what feels like years, zoning in and out of stupors, and after a while, it gets to me.
“I know you’re mad at me…” I start, lifting my forehead off the glass.
“That’s the understatement of the fucking century.”
“But I was only going to leave with him to help you.”
He turns in his seat, settling his dark gaze on me. “Help me? If you want to help me, why don’t you stop making my job so damn difficult?”
I open my mouth to reply, but he cuts me off.
“You think I want to follow you around town and stand in the corner of some nightclub while you drink your ass off and dance on strangers? I fucking don’t, but I am committed to seeing this job through because I get to carry a loaded gun and your father pays me more than I ever made in the army.” He turns his large body to face the front of the car. “This job isn’t about you. I need it because I can’t go back to bagging groceries or fetching coffee. I can’t do mediocrity.”
I pull his jacket tighter around me. I didn’t know he was in the army…
“You can play your games as much as you want, Sera, but you cannot get rid of me.” His dark, gravelly tone makes me shiver. “I’ll be there, right behind you, until your father buries a bullet in my skull.”
I peer at him. “And that doesn’t scare you?”
“What?”
“My father…when he finds out what we did?”
Ben’s jaw flexes as he ponders, and the longer he holds me in his thoughtful gaze, the faster my heart beats.
“No.”
“He’ll kill you.”
“Maybe, but that won’t erase what we did.”
I tap my manicured fingers against my knees, watching as the bright colors of Vegas reflect in the clear acrylic.
“Do you regret what we did?” A stupid question, but I ask it anyway.
We were both wasted that night. I don’t remember all of it, but the snippets I do still set my blood on fire. Ben Campbell knows his way around a woman, that’s obvious. He’s had a hundred women, probably. I bet I barely made a blip on his radar.
When he doesn’t answer, I muster the courage to look at him. He’s watching me, one hand closed tightly around the handle to the arm rest.
“Do you?” he counters and, dare I say, his voice is almost sad.
I open my mouth and the words I was going to say become trapped in my throat as James lowers the partition. “We’re going home, right, Miss?”
“Yes, thank you, James.”
With an impatient sigh, Ben mutters under his breath and clos
es the partition.
“I guess neither of us remembers enough of that night to truly form an opinion.”
“Speak for yourself.”
I cut my eyes at him. “You drank as much as I did.”
Ben’s full lips twitch at the corners and he fights one of those smiles I like so much. “I’m curious to hear how you think the night panned out since you’re already wrong.”
“Wrong?” I turn on the seat, facing him front on.
“Yeah, wrong. You outdrank me a hundred to one.”
I frown. “No, I didn’t.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“That’s not how I remember it,” I argue. “Next you’re going to tell me that I threw myself at you? That going back to Chad’s suite was my idea?”
Ben leans close, his eyes glistening with delight. “Yes, you did throw yourself at me. No, it wasn’t your idea to go back to Chad’s suite.”
I settle against the leather seat, smug.
“If I let you have it your way, you would’ve fucked me in the corner booth of a random Vegas club instead of every surface in a two grand a night hotel room.”
I gape at him. Fierce heat rushes into my cheeks and blooms all over my body. Where does he get the nerve to talk to me like that? Like I’m some kind of…of…whore.
“That’s not how it happened.” I shrug out of his jacket and toss it to the floor along with my bag.
Is it hot in here? I hit the partition button and request James cool the air before closing him off once again. Ben’s cockiness radiates off of him in waves and it irritates the hell out of me. How dare he sit there all unbothered. Who the hell does he think he is?
“Can’t take the heat, princess?”
“I’ve already asked you not to call me that.”
He shrugs his big, broad shoulders and lifts my heels in front of his face. “If the shoes fit.”
Clenching my teeth, I launch at him, knocking my shoes to the floor. He barely flinches, barely reacts to my outburst. As I pant in anger next to him, all he does is look at me, his chin slightly tilted toward his chest, his darkening stare penetrating my soul from under his brow.
“You’re wild…” he says in a low deep voice. “Aren’t you?”
“I’m anything, but a princess.”
James rolls to a stop at a red light and bright, white LEDs infiltrate the black, bulletproof glass, illuminating Ben’s features. His spiky black hair, dark eyes that—in this moment—threaten to share all of his deepest, darkest secrets with me.
…and don’t get me started on those full lips of his.
Lips I want to kiss.
Ben flicks his tongue over his lower lip to moisten it and it pulls me out of my daze.
We’re close, I realize. So close I can smell him—feel his warmth radiating onto me, urging me to reach out and touch him.
“You don’t remember anything about that night?”
I give my head a lazy shake.
“Not how I kissed you?”
I close my eyes and desperately try to remember. I bet it was fucking glorious. “No.”
“Not how I touched you?”
I feel his hot breath on my face and my pulse skitters uncontrollably. I don’t dare open my eyes. The thought of having him so close…my heart can’t take it.
“Look at me…” he utters and I force my eyes to flutter open. “I’ll refresh your memory if you promise not to ever run off on me again.”
Is…is he negotiating with me? A kiss in exchange for my compliance?
“You think your kiss is worth it, huh?”
My amused tone makes his eyes glisten with a challenge and he smiles, one corner of his mouth turning up, as he rolls the sleeves of his white button shirt to his elbows.
“Are all soldiers as dramatic as you?”
He chuckles. “Only when their dignity is on the line.”
Ben shuffles toward me and I fall back against the leather with a nervous laugh. “Ben, this is stupid.”
“No, it isn’t.”
He leans closer and fire burns in my cheeks. He’s serious. He really wants to do this.
“James…” I whisper, my attention falling to Ben’s lips as he moistens them. “What if he—”
“Don’t worry about him.”
He glides one rough hand along my outer thigh and gently guides my chin with the other. He lifts my face to his and touches his lips to mine. His kiss is gentle, barely a touch, but it threatens to consume me all the same. My eyes flutter shut and my heart races, threatening to tear a hole in my chest.
This is dangerous.
With a groan, he clamps his hand on my thigh and I gasp as he tugs me forward, pulling me into his lap. The thin fabric around my thighs gives away with smalls pops of threading and I try to assess the damage, but he snatches my face in his large hands, forcing my mouth to remain on his. Ben kisses me hard, so hard he sucks the air from my lungs and the sense from my head. The warmth from my blush spreads down my neck and pools in my breasts. His hands return to gripping my thighs and they’re so strong and powerful. I want to feel them over my entire body.
I remember now. This is exactly how I felt that night.
Ben flicks his tongue over my lower lip, coaxing me into opening my mouth to him.
Then he claims it.
He claims it like it’s his and only his.
Like he’s the only one who’s ever kissed me.
I moan against him, raking ten aggressive fingers through his clean hair. I open my thighs wider, eager for our hips to touch. His thighs are monstrous, warm, and firm. I moan again, louder this time, and it’s enough to break this kiss. I tilt my head back.
“Shut up,” Ben growls, pressing his lips to my throat. I swallow hard and he licks my flesh as it bobs. “We’ll get caught.”
“I don’t care,” I sigh. “Just keep going.”
I tilt my face, meeting his lips once again, this time with wild abandon.
This kiss is worth risking everything for.
This kiss is worth getting murdered for.
I want him. I want him now. In this moment, as wrapped up as I am, I can see myself throwing caution to the wind and taking him anywhere—and any way—I can get him.
I press my breasts against his chest, desperate to get closer. A few wild heartbeats pass and I feel Ben begin to close off underneath me, trying to end the kiss, but I don’t want to stop.
I groan in protest and continue to touch him, to kiss him, but he pulls my hands from his body and pins my arms to my side before raking his teeth over my lower lip, ending the kiss.
Disappointment and frustration flood me and I cut my eyes at him. “That wasn’t anything to brag about.”
My voice is breathless and I hate it. My lips are swollen too, they feel like tiny balloons on my face. Smirking, he eases me off of his lap and the burning skin of my thighs cool against the leather seat.
“If you say so.” He bends down and grabs my heels. With a gentle flick of his wrists, he tosses them in front of me. “We’re home.”
I sit up straight. We’re home? Jesus Christ. How long did we kiss for?
“What’s the matter?” he asks, his voice teasing as he reaches over and plucks his jacket off the floor. “Lose track of time?”
“No.” I slip my bare feet back into my heels, cringing when the leather presses against forming blisters. “Don’t be ridiculous. It was a kiss. Not an LSD trip.”
Oh, you little liar. Kissing Ben was more than any synthetic fantasy I’ve ever been on. I’m just too stubborn to admit it. Whatever this man has in his saliva needs to be extracted, synthesized, and turned into a drug. No one human should possess the ability to kiss like that.
The car rolls to a stop just as we finish adjusting ourselves. I flick my hair around my shoulders to hide the pink hue of arousal in my skin. I work on evening my breathing when Ben reaches up to the ceiling and turns the light on. I flinch away from it, like a vampire to sunlight.
“What are you doing?”
“You left a wet patch on my pants.”
My stomach revolts and I gape at him, mortified. Why is he looking at me like that? As if he’s just revealed the punchline to a joke.
“No, I didn’t.”
He snatches my hand and presses my palm against his warm, damp crotch. My fingers twitch, so does his cock, and his hot breath blows against my cheek. “That’s all you.”
I snap my hand back with a scoff, feigning disgust to mask the sexual heat that climbs the back of my neck. Reaching up, I turn off the roof light, drowning us in semi-darkness. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re a shitty actress.”
James’s shadow appears against the passenger’s glass a second before he opens Ben’s door. I purse my lips, deprived of getting the final say.
Fucking Ben Campbell.
Chapter Nine
Ben
She’s a piece of work, this girl, but fucking hell, is she beautiful. I stand beside James as Sera climbs out of the car with all the grace in the world. You can’t tell she’s drank more than she probably should have. You can’t tell she spent a good chunk of her night grinding her perfect ass against a stranger. You definitely can’t tell she just had the life kissed out of her, not unless you count the small smear of red lipstick to the right of her lips.
“Enjoy the rest of your night, Miss Sera.” He looks at me. “Ben.”
She smiles sweetly at James. Why can’t I get one of those smiles? All I get are sneers and glares.
“Goodnight, James.” Sera and I speak in unison and her husky tone meshes wonderfully with mine, but I knew that already.
“If you need to go anywhere now until tomorrow morning, I’m sure Ben will take you.”
Fat chance. I’m tired. There’s only one place Sera is going and that’s bed.
She marches in front of me and storms the front steps of her house. Inside, all of the lights are still on. I glance at my watch. Midnight. When do these people sleep?
I follow Sera through the house and into the kitchen where her father waits, cutting into a loaf of bread with a knife much too big for the job. His stare flicks over Sera as she dumps her handbag on the counter with a heavy exhale, and opens the ridiculously large fridge for a bottle of orange juice.