by Valentina F.
The crash of a door being smashed in comes from the living room and my legs give way. I hear someone running through the family room, desperately trying to open the door to the patio. Whoever it is, there's no way out. The police charge into the house and turn on the lights. A guy dressed in black raises his hands and a policeman yells at him to lie on the floor. It's like something from a SWAT movie, the difference is, it's happening for real, inside my house.
"We're in the bathroom. We're coming out."
Ben's voice makes me jump. He turns on the light and swings open the door of the tiny bathroom.
"Hands up!" A policeman points his gun at us.
Ben does as he's told but I'm petrified. I've never had a gun pointed at me before, but then again, I'd never almost been raped before or had burglars running through my home before.
Ben steps out of the bathroom, but I remain transfixed, unable to move. "She lives here. It was me who called the police."
The policeman holsters his gun and walks over to me. "What's your name, Miss?"
My name? Good question! What's my name?
"Cat!" I hear Ben's voice and snap out of it.
"Caterina. Caterina Zanetti."
"You know this guy, Miss?" the policeman asks, pointing at Ben, who still has his hands on his head.
"Yes, yes. He's my neighbor."
He nods at Ben to lower his hands. "And the other guy?" He points to the man dressed in black, lying face down on the floor, another policeman holding him still.
"He broke a window and I found him in here, in the house."
Policemen come and go from the house. The burglar took some of Jessica's jewelry and managed to find almost a thousand dollars in Erika's nightstand but he hadn't got as far as my room. It feels like my head's about to explode and Ben hands me a glass of water and two pills.
"Take these..." I don't even notice what they are, I just close my eyes and swallow them down with two sips of water.
They question us for what seems like forever, then place temporary seals on the broken window and the shattered front door, telling me I won't be able to return home until tomorrow.
"How can I leave all our stuff here with the window and front door broken?"
"We can take any valuables back to mine, Blondie. I'll help you."
It's just us now. I glance absent-mindedly at the clock. It's after 3:00 a.m. Ben gathers up the broken glass in the living room and I pack a bag with all the things I don't want to leave unattended.
"The cops said they'd been after that guy for weeks. Apparently he already burglarized five houses in this neighborhood." Ben walks over and I wipe away a tear before he can see me. "You okay?"
"No. First I get attacked, then a burglar in the house. I'm wondering if I'll get out of this country alive."
He hugs me and I bury my head against his chest.
"Sure, you will. I won't let anything happen to you." He strokes my head softly and kisses my forehead a million times. "You need to get anything else?"
"It's all in here." I lift the backpack and he pushes himself away.
"Your eyes are red." He gives me a sweet smile and kisses me affectionately on the eyelids.
"I don't feel too well..." I step backward, staggering.
"Come here" Ben hooks one arm under my knees and passes the other behind my back. In less than a second I'm in his arms and he's carrying me out of the room. I lean in against his shoulder, inhaling his reassuring smell. Holding me firmly in his arms, he walks slowly out through the patio door, toward his house.
"How did you see him?" I ask, my voice faint.
"I couldn't sleep, I was out in the garden. I heard the sound of breaking glass and when I got up from the sun-lounger, I saw someone creeping into the house, so I called the cops."
We enter his house which is remarkably tidy and cozy. He turns out the light and carries me through to his room in the dark and I realize I've never seen it before. In all these months, I've never set foot in here. He lays me down on the bed and puts my backpack on the floor.
"Why are you always around when I need help?" I dry my last tear which is stuck between my eyelashes, and sit cross-legged.
Ben runs a hand through his hair. "Where else should I be?" He sits down next to me. "I have to let Jessica and Erika know...Mark, too."
"They'll have a heart attack, this time of night."
"I know, but I have to tell them. Get under the sheets, I'll be back soon."
Get into his bed? Sleep in the same bed…together? I'm too tired and confused to think about the consequences and, besides, I'd never be able to sleep alone tonight anyway.
I curl up on the mattress, my head pressed against Ben's pillow. It smells of him. I hold it tight against my chest, no longer able to keep my eyes open. I want to wait for him, to thank him, but the pills he gave me are already taking effect.
I'm half-asleep and I don't know why I thought I wouldn't notice him coming to bed. He pulls back the sheets trying not to make any noise and slips into bed beside me. He's warm and his deep breath fills the room. He moves closer without actually touching me.
"You awake?" he whispers softly but I don't reply. He wraps an arm around me and gently draws me near. "Blondie..."
I breathe out slightly but don’t move or speak. I just want to feel him.
"I missed you so much," he continues, and my heart starts pounding again. "Don't go, don't leave." His lips brush against my forehead and I can no longer pretend I'm asleep.
"Ben..."
"I'm here, Blondie."
I wrap my legs around his. I still can't get close enough, though we're clinging to each other.
"I missed you, too." My voice breaks and I tighten my hands around his neck.
We don't say anything else. We caress each other softly, wrapped in silence and the heavy darkness of the room. He runs a finger over my lips and rubs his cheek against my nose. His fingers, always so cold, make me shiver.
“Missed him” is an understatement. His hands, his beautiful face and soft hair that tickles my cheeks like silk, I missed everything about him. I run my fingertips over his naked back and slowly stroke him. He lets out a groan that's as sexy as hell and there's no need to say anything else. He wants me like I want him and it's always been that way.
And it always will be.
He leans forward and lightly touches my lips, almost blowing me a kiss, then slowly slides his tongue against mine, caressing me expertly, his movements full of controlled passion. One hand works its way under my shirt and he strokes my back with his fingertips, as if I were made of fragile crystal, as if I could crumble in his arms at any moment.
I move my hips against his, rubbing slowly against him, feeling his excitement. He's in no rush, however. He kisses me, nibbling my lips, then grabs me by the waist, holding me tight against his body. His touch arouses me so much I want to rip my clothes off, but he won't let me, this time he's taking things slowly. He pulls my pajama top off with unnerving calm and caresses me as if it were the first and last time. His fingers run over my skin leaving it white hot under his touch.
He moves on top of me and I instinctively spread my legs. His kiss is intense, a kiss so passionate it leaves me breathless.
I lower my hands down to his back and, with movements less graceful than his, pull down his shorts, smiling to myself because I'd already guessed he wasn't wearing underwear. He pulls away gently and tugs his shorts off then undresses me with expert hands, in one single, fluid gesture. He's naked on top of me and I suddenly remember how beautiful and exciting his body is. His hands are all over me, and they're so smooth and delicate, I let out a series of groans of pleasure.
We still don't speak, kissing each other breathlessly, again and again, our bodies moving together frenziedly. When we can't take it anymore I feel him reach out toward the nightstand and grab a condom from inside the drawer.
"Blondie, I need to do something first." Somehow, his hoarse voice breaks the spell.
"N-
now?" What's so important that he has to do it now?
"I need to borrow your cell phone a moment."
I'm lying here on the bed, my legs wide open, practically crushed beneath him, understanding nothing. "It's on the n-n-ightstand," I stammer. Who the hell does he have to call?
He grabs my phone and sits up. "We'll turn this off for a start." He’s so serious he makes me giggle. What an idiot!
I bring both hands to my mouth, trying to stifle my laughter. "You're crazy."
"This time, I'm taking no chances." He turns off my iPhone and tosses it onto the rug. I hear him tear through a condom wrapper and see him roll it on in the dark, then he lies down on top of me again and cups my face in his cold hands.
"You're mine alone." I'm about to reply but his body becomes one with mine and it's so intense, so incredible and powerful, that I shut myself up. He takes his time without ever taking his eyes off mine. As soon as I feel him moving sinuously inside me, over me, my whole body begins to quiver. I feel him everywhere, his hands, his scent which invades my nostrils, the groans that he's barely able to control, and my brain turns itself off. The world, everything outside this room, ceases to exist.
He runs his tongue slowly down my neck and back up toward my ear, making me writhe with pleasure. He moves inside my body and each time he sinks back into me a new, uncontrolled spasm shakes me from head to toe.
"You're so tight..." His words arouse me even more, if that were possible. I'm not sure if I like talking during sex but I certainly like what he says. I like the way he touches me, the way his body thrusts inside me. I do whatever he wishes, hoping to give him as much pleasure, hoping he doesn't realize how inexperienced I am, compared to him.
"Yes..." The word come out before I can stop it. Am I going to start talking too? Really?
He grabs my ass and moves me in small, circular motions that drive me crazy. The same feeling I felt that time in Tampa begins to rise up from deep inside me, but this time it's even stronger. A slow fire spreads out from my stomach, plunging down toward the point where our bodies meet, one inside the other.
I’m almost there now, as sensations surge through my body. I feel the blood boiling in my veins with every one of his breaths against my mouth. I'm losing control, I realize a few seconds before it happens and, when it does, it feels wonderful, even more incredible than the first time. He clasps our hands over our heads, on the pillow, and the pressure of his palms against mine is so damn sexy.
"You like that, Blondie? Me inside you? Damn you fell so good."
I hear those few words then I understand nothing else. His words make my senses short circuit and I can't move, the tips of my toes contract and my hips fly up toward his one last time. I want to scream out loud but I can't, my whole body is shaken by shudders of pleasure that almost set my body on fire. Ben moves faster and faster inside me, making this wonderful orgasm last forever. I feel him suffocate a caveman like grunt against my ear but I couldn't concentrate on him even if I wanted to, I'm so overwhelmed by the intense feelings racing through my body.
Oh. My. God.
When I finally manage to recover a little self-control, I search for his lips, kissing him with all the love that's exploding inside me, hoping he understands how much I wanted him, how wonderful it was to make love to him. Only with him.
We lie in silence, wrapped in each other's arms, both too cowardly to move, or perhaps we're just scared of saying something stupid and ruining such a fairy-tale moment.
He slowly pulls away from me and, without saying a word, goes to the bathroom, leaving me naked and alone in this bed that seems too big and too cold without his body next to mine. A few minutes later he comes back, strolling toward me with his slow, graceful walk. His beautiful body crashes down on top of mine and he nuzzles his head against the hollow of my neck, breathing deeply. "You smell of me now...you're so beautiful..." he whispers softly, gently kissing my shoulder. I run a hand through his hair and slowly stroke his head, unable to reply. His breathing grows heavier and a couple of minutes later I realize he's asleep.
The thought of losing him forever is a sharp pain in the stomach, but now I know it never really happened. We've always belonged to each other.
"Ben...are you asleep?" I whisper and his breathing gets even deeper. "I think I love you."
I know he can't hear me, but I need him to know, because I don't think I'll ever find the courage to look him in the eyes and tell him.
43
I wake with a start to find myself alone. Was it all a dream? I glance around and see Blondie's backpack where I left it last night. Okay, it was real. The empty condom wrapper on the nightstand is further confirmation that I didn't imagine it all.
Damn! That was the best night of my life and I'm as hard as a rock again. Where the hell is she? I want to pick up exactly where we left off last night, and I want to do it in a hundred new positions. It takes me a while to get the sensation of her body on top of mine out of my head and remember the burglar, trying not to think of what might have happened if I hadn't been lying in the garden gazing at the sky, wondering for the millionth time how I was going to get her back.
I crawl out of bed. "Cat, where are you?"
The house is in total silence. I pull on the black shorts I use for sleeping in and quickly rinse my face in the bathroom.
I can't see her anywhere. I go out onto the driveway but the street is deserted, as silent as the house. Barefoot, I make my way over to her house, slipping under the crime-scene tape without going inside.
"Cat? You home?" Still no answer.
I jog back home and grab my phone but one second before hitting call I see her cell phone lying on the floor near the nightstand...still turned off.
I run out again, down onto the road, anxiously looking left and right. What if she ran away after last night? I'm feeling paranoid and ridiculous thoughts flood my head. She ran away, in her pajamas? With no car, no phone?
In the distance I make out a familiar shape coming down the road on a bicycle. I shake my head and laugh. Where the hell do you go on a bicycle at eight in the morning? I cross my arms and lean back against the mailbox.
Her hair is pulled back into a sort of top knot and she's wearing a shirt that must be twice as big as her and a pair of Mark's soccer shorts. She's amusing and absolutely perfect.
"Where did you go?" I ask, unable to stop laughing. Jessica's pink bicycle with the basket in front doesn't really suit her, more than anything, it doesn't suit her eccentric clothing.
She glances down at the basket, where there are two Starbucks coffee cups and a bag of what I imagine is food. "I went to get breakfast." Her amber-colored eyes glow in the sunlight and she looks wonderful, with no makeup, her face still sleepy. "There's never any food at yours."
"Why didn't you wake me?" We could have done round two then gone out for breakfast together, I want to add.
She shrugs and quickly moistens her lips. "You were fast asleep."
I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. Kiss her? Undress her in the middle of the road? Are we together or does she regret what happened last night?
"You don't look too safe on that bike."
She smiles like a child. "I haven't ridden one in years and Jessica's so tall I can hardly touch the ground."
Wobbling, she climbs off the bike and I grab the cappuccinos before they fall to the ground as she props it up on its stand.
"Ooops!" she exclaims. "I'm starving."
Me, too, but not for breakfast. I'm hungry for her. She sits down on the grass in front of the house and looks up at me, indicating for me to join her.
"You want to have breakfast, out here, on the street?" I ask, puzzled. Does this mean that, after everything, my little ice queen has finally melted? I'd like to think I had something to do with it.
"I went out in public dressed like this, believe me, eating out here on the lawn is nothing in comparison."
I sit down next to her and pass her coffee over.
"I already sugared it and I got you a chocolate muffin and one of those cinnamon things you like so much."
She’s like a different person…and I like this one as much as I like the other.
"Thanks." I don't know what else to say, I'm afraid to tell her exactly what I'm thinking.
We sip our cappuccinos in silence. "You okay? You’re in a good mood this morning."
"I could have gotten killed last night, again...good mood is an understatement!"
I was hoping she'd say, "Oh, yes, Ben. It's all thanks to you. Last night I had the world's best sex." I guess it's too much to expect Princess Caterina to admit to that.
"We have to call someone about that window and fix the front door. I'll do it as soon as we're done here."
"Do you think I should tell Maddy? It's her house, after all."
A shudder of disgust rocks my stomach. I don't want to hear that name, especially from Cat, because I know she remembers all too well what went down between us the last time she was here.
"Get Jessica to call her. That way, you don't have to."
She tilts her head to one side and stares at me, her expression icy. "I think I'm capable of talking to her and explain what happened without needing an interpreter."
"I didn't mean that..."
"Don't worry, I won't mention that you gave me a front row seat while you screwed her with the windows wide open."
Shit! Straight to the point. I turn pale at her sharp tone and almost choke on my cappuccino. I hardly dare look at her but I feel her eyes on me and can't back down. "Okay, I deserved that. How much longer are you going to remind me that I fucked up?"
She starts counting off on her fingers, mumbling random numbers, a look of concentration on her face. She stops for a second, looks up at the sky then counts again. "Mmm...all my life!" I catch my breath, but she's smiling.
I can't resist it any longer and am about to lean in and kiss her when I hear the sound of her Wrangler turning the corner down the street and I sit up straight. Mark arrives at full speed and pulls into the driveway, almost spinning to a halt. Cat and I sit here, unperturbed, watching him as he runs from her car, almost falling flat on his face when his foot catches in the seat belt, before covering the distance between us––ten feet––at breakneck speed and throwing himself straight into Blondie's arms.