Breaking All the Rules

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Breaking All the Rules Page 14

by Abi Walters


  The next morning, Mia snoozed twice before pulling herself out of bed. Her routine was rushed, and she decided to skip a shower to make up for lost time. She drew her hair into a sleek ponytail and threw on an emerald green sweater that matched her eyes, as well as a pair of finely tailored tan pants. Skipping her shower had left her with a few spare minutes before she typically went down to greet Benson, and he hadn’t texted her yet letting her know he was there. She used her one cup coffee brewer to prepare a travel mug, devouring an orange and a protein bar while waiting.

  Five minutes had passed and she still hadn’t received a text from Benson. Mia gathered her things and headed down, surprised to see the Bentley waiting with Victor standing next to it, stiff and tall like a statue. Mia’s face fell as she stalked over to him.

  “Where is Benson?”

  “Mr. Ward went into work early this morning,” Victor’s voice was monotone and unwavering. “He sends his apologizes and wants you to know he is excited for this evening.”

  She slid into the backseat, “Uh-huh, and he could have told me all of this himself. Thanks, Victor.”

  Mia sipped her coffee, debating on whether she should call Benson or not. She did. He picked up after a few rings, his voice expecting and distant.

  “So you ignore me all night and decide to go into work early?”

  “I tried contacting you last night,” He reminded her. “I was busy when you called.”

  “You’re always busy. What was it this time? Japanese investors?”

  He was honest with her, “No, I went out with a few friends.”

  Mia’s jaw dropped and rage swarmed through her, “You went out? And since when have you had friends?”

  “You’ve never asked about my friends.”

  Much to her chagrin, he was right. She muttered into the phone, “I assumed you didn’t have any. Did you pick up any women?”

  He didn’t answer, and Mia swallowed hard. Just as she prepared to tear into him, Benson’s hard voice was in her ear again, “I’ll be over around seven tonight.”

  He hung up. Mia let out a growl of frustration, slapping her phone onto the seat beside her so hard it bounced in the air. She dove for it, only to call him again. He didn’t answer. Mia looked up at Victor and challenged him, needing an outlet for her anger.

  “Stop the car and let me out.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “I swear to fucking God, Victor, I will open the door and roll out if I have to,” She met his eyes in the rearview mirror.

  He responded with a ‘click’ that ricocheted through the interior. Mia grabbed for the handle, unable to open the door. She yelled a string of violent profanities at Victor, set her coffee down, and crossed her arms. She huffed and swore the entire drive to her office, more than happy to hear the locks being released. As she grabbed her coffee Victor’s voice surprised her.

  “He didn’t pick up any women last night.”

  She glanced at him, “You’re paid to say that. See you at five, Victor. I’ve got to go to the market again.”

  Shaky and angry, she slid out of the car and into her office. She must have looked like fire. Nobody met her gaze and Maya nearly ran when she crossed paths with Mia in the lobby. She was begging for confrontation or a fight. Luckily, everyone around her saw she was on edge and stayed away. Her day dangled on the boring side, which only made Mia even angrier. She was glad when she received a terse call from Tyler about Max blowing up and storming out after he confronted him about his laziness and absence at practices and meetings. She lashed out with her tongue, biting at Tyler and criticizing Max. When their call ended, she called the man himself. It went to voicemail, of course, but she still left a lengthy and vicious message for him that she knew he’d never listen to.

  By five o’clock Mia had simmered. She was still angry, but she also craved Benson’s presence. She was excited to see him again after not having him for two days. Victor was waiting in his normal spot and she climbed in. She had enjoyed the routine of her arrival and departure at work. The car made her feel safe and important, and it kept her from the cesspool called the subway.

  Though Mia and Benson had settled on takeout, she didn’t want to order out all weekend. She wondered if he’d even stay longer than the night, especially after how tense things had been between them. Benson Ward doesn’t do romance, and Mia Barnes doesn’t mix business and pleasure. They both were fighting themselves. Benson was determined and hard-headed, though confused by his own feelings and need for Mia. And she was stubborn and unsure of herself while still not trusting Benson completely. It was a strange back and forth between the two.

  Victor once again helped carry Mia’s groceries up to her apartment. She had around an hour until Benson said he would show up. Instead of changing into loungewear, she kept her work clothes on. They were casual and comfortable, and she wasn’t sure she trusted herself half naked around Benson when they really needed to talk. To pass the time, Mia put her phone on the dock, shuffling her playlists. She went to the kitchen, deciding to make a batch of Mrs. Tate’s famous double fudge brownies.

  The only problem with the brownies was that Mia ate most of the batter before it made it to the oven. Trying to make sure there would be plenty of delicious chocolate goodness to last the weekend, she refrained from spooning the batter directly in her mouth. She was pleased with her willpower. She frowned and looked at the large starburst clock across the room. It was a few minutes past seven and Benson still hadn’t shown up. He was always on time.

  Before Mia could think any more of his tardiness, a sharp knock rasped against her door. She took a deep breath and opened it. She drank Benson in; fully aware her mouth was hanging open. He stood in dark jeans and a faded Columbia University hoodie. If it weren’t for the small piece of Prada luggage in one hand and a dozen red roses in the other, he could’ve been mistaken for a normal guy. But with his sculpted face and stylish chocolate hair Benson Ward, there was no denying his captivating presence. His piercing blue eyes shot an arrow through her heart and he breezed past her, no longer waiting for an invitation.

  “I’m overdressed,” She mused, a twinkle in her eye as he handed her the flowers. “Thank you, Benson. They’re stunning.”

  “I’m sorry,” He said abruptly, the words sounding foreign to both of them. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was angry.”

  The song switched and Mia’s heart twitched. It was a song from one of her heartbreak playlists. The beginning beats of ‘Stay with Me’ by Sam Smith filled the room. She set the flowers down and quickly scaled the room, reaching for his hands and tugging him into a light sway. He looked down at her for a second, and when the soulful cry of the music began, he closed his eyes in a pained expression. The music gods had shined on Mia and shuffled the song into rotation just when she needed it. Benson understood the message from the beginning.

  “This reminds me of you,” She rested her head on his chest, as if he hadn’t known.

  He rocked with her slowly, not saying anything as he let the painful lyrics sink their teeth into him. The words stung even more knowing Mia associated the heart aching ballad with him. When it ended, an upbeat song began playing, though they stayed locked in the gentle sway. Benson slowed to a stop as he wrapped his arms tight around her, pressing a kiss into her head. Mia bit back silent sobs in his chest. She hadn’t expected the hard hitting connection to the music or the comfort she felt in his arms.

  “I wish it didn’t,” Benson finally murmured. “I wish I was what you needed.”

  “You are what I need, Benson,” She pulled away and wiped the corner of her eye with her sleeve. He frowned at the sight of her tears. “But what we have is complicated.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “You keep saying that,” She smiled sadly. “One minute you just want to give me twenty orgasms and the next you tell me you need me. It’s exhausting, Benson.”

  He wondered if she was referencing their conversation in the V.I.P booth at Plu
to Lounge. Tilting her head up, he sought her glistening emerald eyes and took a deep breath, ready to plunge into unknown territory,

  “I want you. I want to wake up to you and share coffee. I want to come home to you at night and cuddle on the couch watching old movies and crime shows. I want to show you off to the world. I want to tell everyone I meet how wonderful you are, Mia. You’re the most difficult woman I have ever met, but I can’t get enough of it. You challenge me. I can hardly go ten minutes without thinking of kissing you until my lips bleed. Every time I see you my heart feels like it’s going into cardiac arrest. My feelings… my feelings towards you scare me. I’m sorry I’ve been an ass; I’m just not sure what’s going on inside me, right now. I’ve never had this. I want to be with you, Mia.”

  “You want me to be your…” She tried to glance away, unsure where her sudden shyness stemmed from.

  “Girlfriend,” He finished.

  She licked her lips and nodded slowly, “You’ll hurt me, won’t you?”

  He winced, “Why do you keep saying that?”

  “I just have a feeling.”

  “If you say that one more time,” He muttered, his breath hot against her earlobe. “I will bend you over and spank you.”

  A spark ignited between her legs. She tilted her head to nuzzle against him, eager to have more of his body against hers, “What if I want to be spanked?”

  The noise that Benson pressed into her skin made her knees weak. It was animalistic and sexy; enough to make her quiver and shake with anticipation of what would come next. As he kissed her, his hand dipping under the hem of her sweater, an annoying beep clogged their ears. Benson ignored it, groping her breasts. After a few more beeps, Mia tore away with a gasp, realizing where the noise was coming from.

  “Brownies!” She exclaimed with a wicked grin, running into the kitchen.

  Benson followed, peeking over her shoulder as she slid the pan onto of the stove, “You made me brownies?”

  “I made brownies and you might get to have one or two,” She corrected.

  He licked his lips, swollen from kissing, and Mia swooned. Benson Ward was dangerously handsome and she was seriously in trouble.

  To keep herself from dragging him directly to her bed, she asked, “Is there something you want for dinner? Pizza, Chinese, Thai?” She opened a drawer and pulled out a handful of menus, spreading them out like a fan. “Pick your poison.”

  He scanned them quickly before plucking out a pizza flyer, “Double pepperoni, banana pepper, and extra cheese.”

  Mia agreed and ordered the pizza, rolling her eyes at Benson who managed to stuff an entire brownie in his mouth in one motion. After changing into a pair of leggings and a Burnside tee, Mia settled on the couch next to Benson. He had kept his eyes on her the entire time she undressed, as if he were painting her picture into his mind. He extended a hand out to her as she crossed the room, and when she took it, he pulled her down into a loving kiss and held her. Even moments later when she was curled next to him, the memory of the affection gave her shivers.

  As much as she wanted to question him about the previous night, she didn’t want to ruin their moment. Their relationship had been fueled by intense sexual encounters, so something as domestic and simple as sitting on the couch together waiting for delivery pizza was cherished. They sat without the television, soaking in the intimacy of their bodies being pressed together, and then when the moment became too raw, Benson told her he had missed her and brought up some accounts from work. They caught up on work matters and stayed away from the topic of where they both had been the prior night. She refrained from telling him about the video shoot, knowing he wouldn’t approve.

  Benson sprung when the pizza arrived, paying for it before she had a chance to even unfold from her spot on the couch. They skipped plates, instead sitting the box on the coffee table. Mia snatched two beers from the fridge and scanned the channels, settling on Criminal Minds. She ate until she felt like she’d burst. They managed to watch one episode before Benson’s arm moved from around her neck to high on her thigh.

  Mia flushed instantly. His hands on her, wherever they were, ignited fireworks inside her, let alone when it was near her warm sex. With each passing minute, his hand crept higher, then pulled the band of her leggings back and rested on the hem of her panties. She was impatient and hot with desire for him, but she couldn’t go any further without asking him about the night before. His finger grazed her clit and she inhaled sharply. He moved slowly, giving her enough time to steady her head and release a breathless,

  “No.”

  He did as she said, though his fingers did not leave their spot, “No?”

  She slid out of his loose embrace and curled on the other end of the couch, pulling her legs up to her chest and hugging them close to her body, “Not yet. I need to know what you were doing last night.”

  Benson stilled in anger, “Why does that matter, Mia?”

  “You get to know where I am and what I’m doing, but I don’t get the same luxuries with you. I want to know where you were and what you were doing. I don’t want to fuck you or even be with you, for that matter, if you were with another girl last night.”

  “Jet Hammond invited me to his club, and I went.”

  “I don’t know who that is.”

  “He owns a few clubs around town. A few of our friends from Columbia were in town, so he invited us all to the Golden Horse.”

  Mia wasn’t sure whether to be immensely sad or angry, “That’s a strip club.”

  “That it is.”

  They sat silently, the only noise coming from the television. Neither made an attempt to shut it off. Somehow the details of a murder case surrounding them made things less awkward and unsettling. Mia didn’t look at him, just focused on the space between her knees until her vision turned blurry. Her thoughts jumbled in her mind until finally she spoke,

  “Victor told me you didn’t sleep with any of them.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Did you let them touch you?”

  “They tried. Jet was adamant that I have a private dancer like the rest of the group, but I couldn’t. I left just after midnight.”

  “Were they pretty? The girls, I mean.”

  Mia had never been jealous of other women before, especially strippers. She had frequented more strip clubs than she’d like to admit and been around dozens of naked women for the sake of her bands. She had seen strung out teens cling to Aaron and big breasted gold diggers pine after Grant. She had even visited a sex club with a lover and engaged in a threesome. Nothing compared to the knot of jealous heartbreak that resided in her knowing those types of women were around Benson.

  She barely had time to dwell on her newfound jealousy, as he rose from the couch and picked her up. He set her in her bed and was on top of her seconds later. Though they had just eaten, Benson still tasted fresh, his lips begging for more contact as they kissed. He pulled away and kissed both of her cheeks and her forehead, then the tip of her nose. He nudged her head to the side and nibbled on her earlobe. She tried not to moan, though her body arched into his.

  Her arch made Benson stop, much to her disappointment. He sat up and gently tugged her up. She was quiet as he tugged her shirt off and unclipped her bra. His eyes focused on her breasts, hot with hunger. He caressed them for a second before he laid her back down and climb off. Now standing, he removed the rest of her clothes and left her naked in the middle of the bed. When he opened her bedside drawer, sexual curiosity shot down her spine. Wetness threatened to puddle beneath her. Benson pulled out her pink and black leather wrist restraints.

  Before anchoring her to the bed, he looked at her as if asking permission. Her silent answer, a brief nod, was understood. When she was secure in bed, Benson stripped slowly. It was torture, watching his muscles ripple as he moved. Each time she saw what was beneath his clothing, Mia grew short of breath and dizzy. Naked, Benson climbed back in bed. He rest on his knees by her feet, and when he brought a
foot up to his mouth, Mia drew in a rugged breath.

  “Every inch of you is perfect,” He murmured as he kissed her toes, moving from one foot to the next.

  He traveled up her body, sensually kissing every surface. He’d lift a leg to gingerly kiss the sensitive underside of limb, and then mock his motions on the other side. When he reached her sex, she was so sensitive and aroused that he only needed to kiss her clit and lick her wet folds once before she came. Benson’s jaw tightened, his self-control being tested. He wanted to spread her apart and eat her until she begged him to stop. Instead, he rolled her to the side so he could kiss her bottom. His lips moved around her stomach and to each breast, leaving a warm path of fire around each nipple. He kissed down one arm, being sure to suckle on each finger after kissing the tip. After mocking his motions on the other side, he returned to her neck. His lips were plump and wet. They brought heat to her body and then cooled it with the gentle touch.

  “I have never seen a woman as stunning as you, Mia,” His voice was hoarse in her ear. “And I never will. You are perfect.”

  She had been dying to feel his lips on her for what seemed like the hours he grazed on her body. When they finally pressed against hers, she tugged against her restraints. She had thought he anchored her so he could fuck her hard. He had done it so she wouldn’t interrupt his evening worship. Her fingers dug into the leather as she wished she could run them through his hair, down his back. Benson nibbled on her bottom lip and she whimpered.

  “Your body is the only one I want. Your touch is what I crave. I go insane without you, precious. You are mine. My Mia.”

 

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