Tailored for Trouble

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  “You mean, tell me whatever it was you wanted to say?”

  He gave her a small nod.

  “You know,” she said, thinking aloud, “I came here because I thought I wanted something from you—sex, intimacy, I don’t know. But I realized in the bathroom, before we…did that,” she could feel herself blushing, “that’s not actually what I wanted.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head. “No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex was great.”

  He shot her a look.

  “Okay, phenomenal,” she corrected. “But I decided I just want to be here and give you whatever you need—someone who won’t judge or ask for anything more than to get to know you. That’s all I need. So if you want to talk, talk. If you want to sit here and stare into the abyss, stare. If you just want someone to break condoms with, I’m okay with that, too. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything or have to give me anything you’re not ready for.”

  “You are a very odd woman.”

  She reached and took the glass of wine from his hand. “I know. And meeting you has raised the bar to a whole new level.”

  He laughed. “Has it now?”

  She sipped his wine and handed it back. He sipped too and then locked eyes with her, the dim lighting from the living room tingeing his blue gaze with an orange glow.

  “I think meeting you,” she said, “the fact that you saw right through me from the first moment, let me finally start to see myself. I was pretending to be this person who thought she was better than people, judged them, made assumptions, tried to be more…” she shook her head, “I mean, really, Bennett. The fact that I started a company to try to coach successful CEOs to be better is ludicrous.”

  “I don’t think it’s ludicrous. Wildly ambitious, perhaps.”

  She nodded and laughed a little bit. “No. Ludicrous is definitely the right word. Thinking I could change the world by teaching a handful of billionaires not to be dicks is a joke. If I really wanted to make a difference, I’d be focusing on the people who really do the work. I mean,” she looked at him, “let’s face it. You guys don’t do squat. It’s all those middle managers who do the heavy lifting.”

  He laughed. “Well, I do more than just squat, but your point is taken.”

  “I have you to thank for setting me straight.” She looked into his eyes, and he handed her back the glass of wine. She took it and sipped. The simple act of sharing the glass was going on her list of most erotic things to do with Bennett Wade, right after sex and showering together. “I’ve literally lost everything, but I’ve found myself.”

  “And how does it feel?” he asked.

  She nodded, her eyes tearing up. “Damned good, Mr. Wade. Damned fucking good.”

  She handed him back the glass, giving him the last sip. He swallowed it and set the glass down at his side on the porch. “I’m glad to be of help, Ms. Reed.”

  She took a breath and wiped the dampness from underneath her eyes while they both took a moment to stare into the night together.

  It was a quiet, beautiful moment.

  “I’m falling in love with you,” she said, unsure of why or how the words had escaped her mouth.

  She glanced his way and noticed that air of calm intimacy had disappeared. In its place the rigid, reserved Bennett Wade sat with his trademark frown—the one he used when he felt uncomfortable.

  “You don’t know me,” he replied.

  “I may not know whatever it is you feel you need to hide from the world, but I’ve seen your heart, Bennett. I’ve seen how you sneak around and help people, how you take care of them—Candy, your mother, that Mr. Oko-sushi-restaurant owner.”

  “Okomoto.”

  Dammit! I knew that.

  “And,” he said, “that doesn’t mean you know me.”

  “Okay. I’m here, ready when you are then. But I guarantee unless you’re a serial killer, a rapist, or hate puppies, there is really nothing you can say that would change my mind.”

  He turned his body back toward the ocean, looking away. “Did you like the way I fucked you?”

  Her spit caught in her throat as she blinked at him. She hadn’t been expecting that question. “Well…yeah. It was different, but it was…really good. I liked it a lot.” Of course, that was code for “do it the hell again because you blew my mind.”

  She added, “Not that I wouldn’t welcome some other positions that might not involve having to see myself in a mirror. But if it makes you happy, I’m good with it.”

  “The mirror was for you.”

  “Sorry?”

  “That is the only way I can be intimate with a woman.”

  Her mind munched on that for a few moments. Then she got up, went inside, and poured a very, very, very full glass of white wine from the opened bottle inside the mini fridge just below the wet bar.

  She drank down half and then walked outside, handing Bennett the glass. “So you’re trying to tell me you can’t…umm…”

  “Fuck,” he said, filling in the blank.

  “Okay. You can’t fuck any other way?”

  “No,” he replied sharply.

  “May I ask why?” she said.

  “I find the intimacy too…”

  “Intimate?” she said.

  “Painful. Getting too attached always ends badly for me.”

  Hearing that made her heart ache, but she hoped his wounds would heal with time. Maybe even with her. “Feel free to avoid intimacy with me whenever you like, then.”

  He blew out a small little laugh. “Only you, Ms. Reed. Only you.”

  “I have my charms, Mr. Wade. Why hide them?” She flashed a coy smile. Honestly, she knew he was trying to say something important, something that troubled him, but it was more important that he knew she wasn’t rattled.

  “Never hide who you really are, Taylor. You’re lovely. So damned lovely it hurts.”

  She unconsciously tipped her head to one side and gave her neck a sobering crack. God, I fucking love him. “Anything for you, Mr. Wade.”

  “If the weather holds, I’d like to take you to see the rest tomorrow morning.”

  “Rest of the island?” she asked.

  “Rest of me.”

  She drew a deep breath. “I’d like that, Bennett. I really, really would.”

  He stood from the chair. “Very good. Then I’ll say good night.” He leaned over and planted a sinfully hot kiss on her lips, but it ended much too soon. When he withdrew his mouth, it felt like a hard slap.

  He turned and walked inside. “See you in the morning,” he said, strutting in that Bennett Wade sort of way that made her well aware of what he carried between his legs.

  A weapon of my womanly destruction?

  She leaned forward in her chair and watched him disappear down a small hallway behind the kitchenette she hadn’t even noticed. The place was pretty damned big and being in it with Bennett felt like a dream. A wet, wet dream.

  Taylor flopped back into her wicker chair and let her arms hang down, feeling delicious aches all over her body and a warm buzzing in her heart. Oh my God. That man so rocks my world.

  —

  A few hours later, Taylor found herself unable to sleep in the big bed upstairs alone. She knew that it had been a trying night for Bennett, and he had issues with intimacy, but she longed for his strong arms wrapped around her waist and the sound of his gentle breath in her ear.

  The man was such a heavy sleeper that she wondered if she couldn’t curl up with him for a few hours without him noticing and then sneak away before he woke.

  She tiptoed downstairs and used her hands to feel her way down the hall past the kitchen.

  After turning the corner, she came to an open doorway, but from the sound of absolutely nothing, she guessed he wasn’t in there. When Bennett wasn’t having nightmares, he had a soft, masculine hum to his breath, the kind she might want to record and listen to every night like white noise meant for lulling a restless girl to sleep.

  S
he found the second door closed and quietly pushed it open, placing her ear to the crack. Yep. There was Bennett, his rhythmic breath strumming peacefully away.

  She slipped inside, closed the door, and carefully climbed into bed with him. He jerked and mumbled something unintelligible, but when she lifted the covers, she realized he was on top of them. Not a surprise given it was still pretty warm in the house.

  She lay down next to him, and her eyes adjusted to the blackness allowing her to see the contours of his handsome face. He wore no clothes, and his long, lean, muscular body looked like the statue of a god, carved from sleek marble.

  Oh, god. Is it me, or is it getting hotter in here? Knowing that Bennett lay nude right next to her might be the reason. You are not going to molest him in his sleep. She lay there, restless, feeling the gentle breeze through the window. So hot. So hot. She got up from the bed and went back out to the living room, searching for a thermostat. There had to be an A/C here somewhere.

  Every corner and wall came up empty, so she made her way back to Bennett. She stared down at his naked form and decided he had the right idea. She slipped her dress over her head. You can handle it. Just a girl and guy, sleeping naked together.

  Now cooler, and feeling more tired than she cared to admit, she closed her eyes, lulled by the sound of Bennett’s breathing. She felt like she’d landed on a strange planet where simply being near him felt like home.

  —

  Something warm and hot woke Taylor from her sleep, sending sharp pleasurable tingles through her groin, deep into her belly.

  “Mmmm…” came a low, wholly masculine groan, rousing her from her drowsy state completely. She felt the heat of a man’s chest pressing against her. “Mmmm…Taylor.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, and she realized that Bennett was tightly fitted to her back, his hard cock nestled in the apex of her legs, pushing right against her deliciously sore entrance.

  Ohmygod. He’s sleep humping me again. This man is so damned sexy.

  She gently reached around and placed her hand on his shoulder, giving him a little shake. “Bennett?” she whispered. “Wake up.”

  He gripped her hip and began moving against her, sliding back and forth, right over her little c-spot.

  Her eyes rolled in her head as she felt every hard inch of his thick velvety cock creating friction and pushing her toward the edge. He hadn’t even entered her, but dammit if she didn’t want him to.

  “Oh, God. Bennett, wake the fuck up. That feels so good. So, so incredible, but…” Well, for starters, he wasn’t wearing a condom, and second, the man was asleep.

  She sighed. “Bennett, as much as I want this, it’s probably not the best idea, so please wake up?”

  His body jerked a little, and she felt that strong hand dig into her hip. He stopped thrusting and then pulled his hips back. She winced as the motion left her panting, needy, and sadly all alone down there.

  She felt the bed shift, followed by a small rustle.

  She smiled. Wicked man. You’re awake now…and you’re—

  “Oh fuck!” she cried out as he returned to her and thrust deeply with one sharp motion. He hadn’t even needed to grope or fumble. He knew exactly where to go.

  “You’re amazing, Bennett. I—” He thrust again from behind. “Ohmygod. So amazi—” And again. “Zing.” And again.

  She felt his lips on the back of her neck and those little sinful flutters in her belly. He may not have been awake before, but he was going hard now.

  “You feel so damned good, Taylor. I can’t imagine ever needing to be inside a woman like I need to be inside you.”

  He withdrew and pushed the corner of her hip, forcing her to her stomach. His knees worked their way between her legs, and he pushed them widely apart, before blanketing his body over her.

  He positioned his cock at her wet entrance and thrust again. Only a man with his size equipment could make this position, lying on her stomach, feel so, so good that she couldn’t speak when she wanted to say so many things, like…

  Her thoughts drifted away with each sensual thrust of his hard flesh. Again and again she felt the coarse hair around his shaft tickle her ass as his cock pushed and slid and massaged her until she wanted to scream.

  “I love being inside you, Taylor,” he whispered. Slowly he withdrew, and she felt the entire force of his body hitting her, harder and faster, desperately chasing the moment of release.

  He reached one hand between her hip and the bed, searching lower and lower, until he found the spot. With three strokes of his finger and cock, she was screaming into her orgasm, pushing back into him to increase the pain and pressure and pleasure.

  He planted his arms on either side of her body and worked himself in and out with a few more powerful strokes before he collapsed, giving in to a shuddering climax as his hot cum jetted deep inside her.

  After a few minutes of lying there, he rolled to his side, pulling her body with him, staying inside her, still hard as a rock.

  She closed her eyes, savoring the heat of him deep inside, the wetness of his release at her entrance…

  “Dammit,” Bennett swore, pulling out of her. “I can’t believe this. It broke again.”

  Taylor didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Wherever these Balinese condoms came from, they had not been constructed with Bennett Wade’s cock in mind.

  He grabbed some tissue from a box on the nightstand, stripped off whatever remained of the latex, and threw it into the trash. She stared at his back for several moments as he sat there panting.

  Shit. This was scary. But what could they do now? What could she say? The river was in charge? She’d just sound corny and then have to explain.

  “Come back. I’m getting cold.” She wasn’t feeling close to chilled, but that was the only thing that came to mind.

  He nodded and lay back down at her side. He then pulled her close, twisting her body to spoon her.

  “I can’t imagine anything better in this world than sleeping with you, Taylor. Even your snoring is sexy.”

  She laughed and then snuggled her body tightly against him, enjoying the intimate sensation of him falling asleep. For a man with intimacy issues, he was one hell of a snuggler.

  “Nite, Benny.” She smiled.

  —

  When Taylor woke the next morning, it was to the sound of rain pattering just outside the open window. She stretched her body, immediately feeling a little sad to see the empty spot next to her, the indentation in Bennett’s pillow right next to the indentation in her own, a reminder of how closely they’d slept together last night.

  Then she remembered the condom fails. She was on week three of her cycle, she knew that much. Don’t worry until you have something to worry about, Tay. Besides, she didn’t want it to ruin the memory of how hot he’d been in bed.

  She sat up and smelled something coffee-licious wafting in the air. She scooted from the bed and slipped on the little flowy dress she’d worn last night, then made her way to the living room. The patio doors were open to the empty beach and the rolling ocean. Rain drizzled from gray clouds, casting a somber shadow over the waves. It’s gloomy, but beautiful.

  A gentle breeze floated into the room, pushing the scent of fresh coffee and food her way. A tray had been set out on the counter with a beautiful red trumpet-shaped flower. Next to it there was a note:

  Driver will pick you up at ten. Wear something that you don’t mind getting wet. –BW

  Wet, huh? What kind of wet? She smiled devilishly. He’d gone ahead without her, and she couldn’t help but wonder where and why. On the other hand, he’d said that today he’d show her the rest of himself. Something he didn’t feel comfortable showing to just anyone.

  She drew a deep breath, feeling nervous about whatever he was going to lay on her. But she loved Bennett. Whatever demons he wrestled with couldn’t be that bad, could they?

  Taylor glanced at the clock and realized it was a quarter to ten. She took a few bites of the still wa
rm pancakes that had been hiding underneath the metal plate cover, and then swallowed down a cup of coffee before rushing upstairs to shower and change. She didn’t have any undergarments, but the hotel had delivered a few swimsuits—black, red, and white bikinis. She grabbed the red one and slipped it on. Hey, maybe they’d go for a swim in the rain later when the weather got hotter than hell.

  She slipped on a light blue sundress and brown leather flip-flops. Nothing fit quite right, but it wasn’t a total disaster either.

  Just as she opened the front door, a man approached, wearing khaki shorts and a golf shirt with “Wade” stitched onto the pocket. He was an older gentleman with kind brown eyes, dark brown skin, and deep smile lines.

  “Ah, Ms. Reed. You are ready. I am Wayan. I will be taking you to Mr. Wade. He has gone ahead to deal with some urgent business.”

  That was odd. Wasn’t Wayan the name Bennett had mentioned in his sleep?

  “Nothing bad, I hope?” she asked.

  “No. Nothing our Mr. Wade cannot handle.”

  Taylor grinned. “Yes, he is pretty good at overcoming obstacles.”

  They made their way to the front of the hotel and got into a honking, army-green Land Rover with thick tires and a steel roof rack piled high with gear—gas can, shovel, winches, and rope.

  “So where is Bennett’s estate?” Taylor asked. The moon?

  “It is two hours north of here. But he is at a hamlet about a half hour up the road.”

  “What’s he doing there?”

  “Negotiating with a man who’s gotten cold feet,” Wayan replied.

  “Is it to do with his special project?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. His special project.”

  After about ten minutes of playing dodge the mopeds, which swarmed the road like angry bees (some transporting a family of four including the baby), they hit the main “highway.” It was a two-lane road lined with impenetrable lush leafy vegetation and the occasional rusted-out car or small gas station (or petrol-in-a-bottle-for-all-of-the-scooters stand) dotting the way.

  Eventually Wayan pulled off onto a long, muddy road that cut through thick jungle, just wide enough for one vehicle.

  “I hope no one comes the other way,” Taylor said. They’d have to back up and drive in reverse.