Weakness

by Shelley Michaels

  I silently wiped tears from my cheeks for the entire ten-hour journey back to Heathrow. It had been a traumatic few months watching my sister battle cancer and the after-effects, then almost getting kidnapped and hurt in the process, but it had also been incredibly heart-warming getting to know my niece and nephew and my brother-in-law better. I visited as much as I could, and they’d flew over two years ago with the children to see me, but it wasn’t the same as living in the same house and seeing your family at their best and their worse. I had family who I loved more than life itself. I already notched up four people to my weakness list, and now I had another.

  I hadn’t heard anything from Ben since my arrival home, but I hadn’t expected to, we had agreed the night before I left that we would be appreciative of our time together and carry on with our individual lives with happy memories.

  I often wondered how that was working out for Ben because for me it only seemed to get harder.

  I work as many shifts as I can to keep my mind occupied and off of the long nights of sex and sweet nothings that we shared. I knew I was barely living, merely surviving, but was determined not to turn into the pathetic-ness that was my mother. I had to confess, for once in my life, a minute part of me could empathise with my mum’s misery at losing my dad. Not in respect of neglecting her children kind of empathy, but feeling a loss that she felt deep in her soul. It didn’t seem to matter how much I admonished myself. It was a few months not years like my parents spent together. It didn’t make a difference. I missed him severely.

  I had spoken to Lydia and the kid’s numerous times but somehow couldn’t bring myself to ask after him, how he was doing or whether or not he had replaced me. The idea of him fucking someone else almost crippled me with jealousy, so it was better not to ask any questions. Kristen once updated me that Uncle Ben had taken her and Blake to the pizza joint that we all loved so much, but Lydia had distracted her by reminding her to tell me how she got on at her dancing exam. At the mention of his name the emotion crept up my throat and I had no alternative but to cut the skype call short, excusing myself by telling them all that I had a friend popping by for a glass of wine and must tidy up my flat. Lydia knew Cam’s lips tightened marginally, but they all waved and promised to call soon.

  I had come away and cried myself to sleep.

  ********

  ‘Sash, there’s someone to see you,’ Pauline’s eyes looked as though they were going to pop out of her head, from around the curtain of Bay five, where I had just finished redressing Mrs Joseph’s leg.

  ‘Who?’ I frown, puzzled.

  ‘I don’t know, but if you want I can offer him my services?’ She grins, huge. ‘Sorry, Mrs Joseph,’ she apologises to the grinning middle-aged woman on the bed. ‘But girl, he is H-O-T,’ she spells out the last word.

  My gut tightens, Pauline’s face is similar to how Shauna and the rest of girls look at Ben, with unadulterated lust. ‘What’s does he look like?’ I hear the wobble in my voice as my legs weaken.

  ‘Big. I mean,’ Pauline steps inside the curtain and widens her arms horizontally, ‘B-I-G,’ again with the spelling the word out, ‘and I would give my first-born to spend a night in his arms,’ she winks at Mrs Joseph, who out and out giggles. ‘Don’t get me started on those blue eyes,’ she rolls her eyes to the ceiling.

  ‘Shit!’ I breathe, then realise where I am, ‘sorry, Mrs Taylor,’ I apologise.

  She waves a hand, ‘go away with you, in my house the f-bomb gets dropped on a regular basis, see your gentleman friend, sweetheart,’ she encourages. ‘I’ll expect an update later on.’

  I move to the nurse’s station on auto-pilot, my eyes on the tall form that is leaning against the wall, his blue gaze intent on mine as I approach. My stomach somersaults as his eyes warm to heating-point when I stop in front of him.

  ‘What time you off?’ He asks, without a greeting. The hunger in his glance is palpable, leaving me unable to speak, let alone breathe. ‘Queenie,’ he prompts, interrupting my stupor.

  ‘Seven,’ I murmur, as my brain refreshes the memory I already have of him.

  ‘It’s eight-forty now,’ he announces, a touch of humour in his voice.

  ‘Yeah,’ I reluctantly drag my gaze away and glance over at the nurses that have congregated behind the counter. ‘I’m going,’ I call to them, Pauline grins and waves, Sandra nods, wordlessly. ‘Give me five,’ I state, turning to the staff room.

  ‘I’ll be here,’ he declares.

  I allow my legs to carry me to my locker, open it and mechanically begin to change out of my scrubs and into my jeans and t-shirt that has been hanging up inside since my shift started at seven this morning. My brain isn’t absorbing the information that Ben is here, in my workplace and not in his Denver loft, or in Honour, it is merely trying to function as best as it can.

  I pull out my hair clip and allow the waves to cascade down my back, combing my fingers through the lengths to curb the wildness after a day of confinement in a messy bun sitting on my nape. I see my hand is shaking and clench it tight as I try to even out my breathing to relax the butterflies that are having a party in my middle. I grab my handbag and close my locker and allow my feet to walk me out and back into the corridor.

  He is where I left him, watching the chaos of the ward from his position leaning against the wall. I imagine every woman that has seen him has given him the lustful looks that my colleagues are still providing him. I give them a ‘go away and busy yourself and stop looking at my man’ kind of look and step up to face him.

  He turns, and his eyes sweep over my entire body, ‘you’ve lost weight,’ he announces, as he stands upright and grasps my hand as he nods at the girls who are still opening ogling him and guides us out of their view and into the lift area. He pushes the call button and watches the lights, totally ignoring me standing beside him.

  ‘Err, Ben?’ I call up, has he grown or has he always been that tall? I ask myself. He glances down, and his eyebrow arched in question. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Come to see my woman,’ he answers, nonchalantly. The lift arrives, and he gestures for an elderly couple to enter before us, then drags me inside.

  I stand in silence, my hand feeling tiny engulfed in his colossal grasp. I push away the sensation that cloaks me, the warm feeling of coming home. I inhale a deep breath, to steady myself and he tips his gaze down to mine. ‘You okay, baby?’

  I don’t know what to say, am I alright? Not really, I’m stunned to see him here, now, looking so goddam beautiful in dark jeans and a round neck navy jumper that moulds to his stunning physique. The arrival of the lift to the ground floor prevents me from having to respond to Ben, as we step into the hustle of the emergency department.

  It’s when we hit the fresh air that he finally slows, turns and pins me with a look so feral, it makes me want to run far, far away.

  ‘Ben,’ I say, but don’t know why.

  His arms wrap around me, and he pulls me up to my tip toes as his lips crushed to mine, and he kisses me with such intensity, I immediately feel the bruising of my lips. But, instantly I open my mouth and allow his tongue access as he steps us back against a wall and kisses the life out of me. My hand is fisted in his hair and the other holding onto his jumper for dear life.

  ‘Fuck!’ He growls, lifting his head to stare directly into my eyes. ‘Gotta stop now, baby. Otherwise, I’m going to strip you naked and devour you on the sidewalk.’

  ‘Kerb,’ I pant.

  ‘Say what?’ He frowns.

  ‘It’s a kerb here, not a sidewalk,’ I educate him.

  He grins, and I almost pass out at the beauty, ‘I fly halfway across the world for a kiss, and she corrects my grammar,’ he mutters, under his breath.

  ‘You came all this way for a kiss?’ I query, still in a kiss-haze.

  ‘Baby, I’d fly to the moon for one of those kisses,’ he purrs.

  I grin, ‘yeah?’

  ‘Oh, yeah?’ He drops his lips briefly to mine,
before turning towards the car-park.

  ‘Come on,’ he tugs gently on my hand, but I stop him by pulling my hand back.

  ‘I have my car here,’ I argue, pointing in the general direction of my Mini. I grin again, ‘I don’t think you will fit in my car,’ I giggle at the image that sits in my mind.

  ‘Leave yours here. We’ll take mine,’ he insists.

  ‘I’m not leaving mine here,’ I contest, ‘follow me home.’

  ‘No, I don’t want you out of my sight,’ he mumbles.

  ‘Why, what’s happened?’ I suddenly begin to worry about the real reason for Ben’s surprise arrival and remember why he wouldn’t leave me out of his sight in Denver.

  ‘Nothing,’ he steps up to me and combs his fingers through my hair like he always liked to do. ‘Nothing, Queenie. I just missed you,’ he cups my jaw. ‘Leave your car here, baby.’

  I am still revelling in the information that he has missed me, so answer feebly, ‘okay, honey,’ he grins at the ease of my submission and walks me to a Range Rover similar to the one he owns in Denver. He opens the door for me, and I climb in and settle myself for the short journey home.

  I have barely opened the door to my small flat when I am physically lifted off of my feet and into the darkness of my hallway. The door is kicked closed behind us and a commanding voice request, ‘bedroom?’

  I know I should stop him and ask him again why he is here and repeat to him that we had decided to leave Us in our delicious memory box. Instead, I just manage to squeak, ‘to the right,’ before we are on the move. I manage to flick on the lights as we enter my bedroom, to prevent any accidents before I am airborne then hit the softness of my mattress on my back.

  ‘Need you naked, Queenie,’ he pulls off his jumper, his face seriously turned on.

  ‘I need a shower,’ I stutter, but I am reaching for my t-shirt and dragging it over my head.

  ‘Where’s the shower?’ He kicks off his boots and undoes his jeans, my gaze stills on his fingers, waiting for the moment he shows me what I want to see. He stops, I look up and see he is mildly amused, but seriously impatient. ‘Where’s the shower, Sasha?’ He repeats.

  I jump off of the bed and kick off my shoes, taking his hand I lead him in my jeans and bra into the tiny bathroom that points off of my small bedroom. Thankfully, I had a huge shower installed within the small area some time ago, it was a bath or a shower, and although I loved to soak in a tub, I had decided to have the bath pulled out and a double shower installed for ease.

  I turn on the dial of the shower before shimmying out of my jeans and underwear in one swift move, then unhook my cream lace bra while his eyes stroke hungrily over my body.

  ‘You’re still wearing clothes,’ I announce, feeling my nipples tighten and warmth between my legs at the intensity of his stare. He absently pulls off his jeans, and I watch as his thick, veiny, hard as steel cock bobs in front of me. I unconsciously licked my lips, knowing I will love the musky taste of his hardness against my tongue.

  ‘Baby, you can suck me off later,’ he growls, ‘right now I want to fuck you stupid.’

  My body tingles in apprehension, ‘okay,’ I hum.

  He steps closer, and his hands drop to my bare arse as he lifts me up and I naturally wrap my legs around his waist. I feel his hardness almost instantly hit the target before he steps us inside the cubicle. My hands held his head either side as I tilt my lips and kiss him with all I have, I push down aching to have him fill me, but he drives my back against the tiled wall and allows the water to cascade over us as his fingers move to cup my sex.

  ‘Jesus, I’ve missed this pussy,’ he pushes two fingers deep, and I instantly begin to ride them. ‘That’s it, baby,’ he encourages, he drops his head down and sucks on one nipple biting down hard before soothing it with his tongue. I cry out as I continue to plunge down onto now three of his fingers.

  ‘Give me the real thing, honey,’ I beg.

  ‘Not going to last long, Sasha,’ he warns as he removes his fingers and slowly inserts himself deep inside of my core. ‘Oh, yeah,’ his hands grasp my hips as he slows my desperate movement, ‘definitely missed this pussy,’ he slowly draws himself in and out, frustrating me with his leisurely pace.

  ‘Honey, need you to fuck me hard,’ I whimper.

  He submits and with a hum, begins to pound deep, over and over, against the wall as I meet him halfway on every stroke. I feel my body soaring higher and higher as he hammers into me almost splitting me in two. When I cry out my orgasm, he continues the onslaught until he groans out his release with a howl before bringing us both down slowly. His mouth finds mine, and we kiss, and we kiss, over and over until he lowers me and keeping me close washes me from head to toe, first with the body wash and then with his tongue. Then, I suck him off as instructed, before we fall into my small bed wrapped around each other as if we are afraid that if we let go one of us will disappear.

  I wake first, well I presume Ben is still sleeping by his even breaths and the fact his face is buried in my neck, just as he always liked to sleep. He used to tell me, from this position he could smell my scent and feel my heartbeat all in one go. I never realised how romantic that was until I just thought about it.

  It is almost eight-thirty the following morning, and my stomach is empty, waking me up with its grumbling. All I ate yesterday was a yoghurt for breakfast and a banana on my break. For obvious reasons, I didn’t eat dinner last night. My brain starts to buzz with possible scenarios that have caused Ben to travel the thousands of miles to come and see me.

  ‘Is that your stomach or mine?’ I feel against the skin on my neck, and I can’t help but smile. ‘Or, is it your brain over-thinking?’

  ‘You think you got me all figured out,’ I giggle, since when have I became a giggler, I question?

  ‘Darlin’, I know you almost as well as I know myself,’ he answers, arrogantly.

  ‘You do not!’ I scoff, he may think he does.

  ‘Ask me something, and I’ll tell you the answer?’ He challenges.

  ‘No,’ I turn away to get up.

  ‘Where are you going? I haven’t had my good morning kiss,’ he charms, softly.

  ‘I’m starving,’ I argue. ‘More kisses after sustenance.’

  ‘Now, woman,’ he grabs my hips and brings me on top of him, his eyes are relaxed and warm as they run over my face. ‘I missed you, baby.’ It rendered me speechless the first time he said it, this time, looking deep into his soul and knowing by his expression the candidness of his words, a warm and squishy feeling runs through my veins.

  ‘I missed you too,’ I whisper down, running my nose over his beard-splattered jaw, ‘so much.’

  His arms wrap around me and hold me tight. He did come to see me. I can feel it.

  ‘Give me your lips, Queenie,’ he asks, softly.

  I comply. The kiss immediately heats until I am on my hands and knees, sucking him as he is eating me hard, when I cry out my release he flips us until he is behind me and fucks me hard and fast, his hand fisting my hair firm enough to make me wild as I come again, and he empties his seed deep inside of me.

  After I cook a rather meagre breakfast for Ben, who likes his food and let’s face it has a lot of body to fill, we shower again before dressing and going to pick up my car from the hospital. Neither of us has broached the subject of how long Ben is in London, or even why he is in London other than to do what we did last night and this morning, several times.

  Once my Mini is back safely outside my flat, Ben drives us to the South Bank where we walk along the Thames, hand in hand just being together. When we sit on a bench and watch the world go by, he begins.

  ‘You haven’t asked why I’m here?’ He states.

  I shrug, ‘maybe I don’t want to know,’ I reply, distractedly.

  ‘Oh, you want to know,’ he places his arm on the back of the bench and begins to play with my hair. ‘Ask,’ he commands.

  I turn to look at him, ‘you want me to ask yo
u why you are here? I already did that last night, you told me you were here to see your woman,’ I prompt him.

  ‘Ask me again,’ he demands.

  I roll my eyes, ‘okay, why are you here, Ben?’

  ‘I’ve come to London to collect you and bring you home with me,’ he confesses. I stare at him open-mouthed as I absorb and clarify his statement within the confines of my mind.

  ‘You want me to go home with you?’ I repeat, confusedly.

  ‘Yeah,’ he is saying the words, just like on our first encounter, but he has detached emotion from them as if he isn’t feeling them.

  ‘That’s it! You turn up and make a declaration that you are here to take me home with you and you expect me to jump and follow you?’ I repeat.

  ‘Yep!’ He stares into the distance as a taxi ferry chugs past us on the Thames.

  ‘Why would I do that?’ I follow the line of his gaze as the boat fades into the distance.

  ‘Because we belong together,’ he announces, again coolly, but my heart skips a beat at his reasoning.

  ‘You know how I feel about relationships, Ben,’ I remind him.

  ‘Yeah, I know how you feel about relationships, I also suspect that you have felt precisely the same way I have for the past seven weeks since you left,’ he turns his gaze to mine, and it’s only then that I see the sincerity in the blue of his gorgeous eyes. ‘You going to deny it?’

  I swallow painfully, ‘no, I’m not going to deny it,’ I murmur, softly, ‘but, it’s also exposed a side of me that I have been trying to avoid all my life. You leave me feeling vulnerable, Ben, as I’ve never felt before. If I feel like this after a couple of months, what happens when it’s longer. I’m not my mother,’ I remind him, ignoring the pain in my chest at the thought of losing him for the second time.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he announces softly, ‘I don’t want another woman, I want you,’ he confides. ‘When you left, I thought I’d get over it, and the emptiness would eventually fade. It didn’t, and when Kristen mentioned you ended your video call before she told you about her new girlfriend at school as you had a friend coming over, I could have quite easily put my fist through the wall,’ his gaze holds mine.