Breaking All the Rules

by Abi Walters

  “I’m dating Benson Ward,” Mia sputtered.

  Tyler’s eyes widened slightly, “I thought you were just sleeping with him.”

  Mia closed her eyes and tilted her head back, “You should go, Tyler. You need to figure out what’s going on with Burnside before you try to kiss every woman in this office.”

  “I only wanted to kiss you.”

  “Tyler.”

  He moved away from her and stepped towards the door. His hand lingered and he looked back at her with a sad smile, “I know.”

  He left and Mia scrambled to raise the blinds around her office. She wished she had left them open. Maybe that would have stopped her from hugging him or him from kissing her. Mia sat at her desk and pulled out her phone, looking at it long and hard before she pulled up her text messages and composed one for Benson.

  Are you busy? I need to talk to you.

  He didn’t text back immediately, so Mia assumed he was tied up and started flipping through her morning emails. Nearly an hour later she received a response.

  What’s wrong?

  Nothing. I will see you tonight.

  She slid her phone into her desk and ignored the buzz indicating she’d received a message. Mia didn’t get much work done throughout the day. Her mind was in a thousand different places. Tyler had texted her shortly after lunch apologizing and saying the band was accepting Monarch’s deal. Mia emailed Grant and Benson, letting them both know about the update. When five o’clock came, she bolted out of the building.

  Unsure of what Benson had in his refrigerator, Mia had Victor stop at a local market where she picked up some ingredients. In her attempt that day to not do any work whatsoever she had stumbled upon a delicious Mediterranean salmon dish she wanted to try.

  Using the private elevator and walking into the penthouse alone gave Mia butterflies. As she prepared dinner, she hummed along to her music and wondered if she really could move in with Benson. There was no doubt that he was a little commitment shy, but when the man knew what he wanted, he took it. She rolled her eyes. They could barely go twenty four hours without bickering. There was no way they’d be able to live together.

  It was just before seven when she set the table. She had bought a few candlesticks at the market and arranged them on the table to give an ambient glow when she dimmed the lights. She poured two glasses of an aged pinot noir, switched her music over to a playlist she crafted early that day called ‘Songs to Bone Benson To’ and dipped into the bedroom to change out of her work clothes. She slipped on the incredibly sexy black Dita Von Teese bustier she packed while Benson wasn’t looking and covered the lingerie with a sparkling cap sleeved cocktail dress that made her feel like a sexy disco ball.

  By eight o’clock Mia had drank half the bottle of pinot noir herself. The candles were no longer fresh, the hardened wax melting around the sides. Setting her wine glass on the coffee table, Mia nestled into the extra-large sectional sofa, falling asleep with Ride by SoMo playing in the background.

  By the time Benson reached the door to his penthouse he felt like he was walking on pins and needles. Mia hadn’t answered his calls or texts all afternoon. He had tried letting her know his international meeting had ran over, but she never responded. Victor had told him she stopped at the market after work and hadn’t left the building since, but if Mia wanted to slip away, Benson had no doubt in his mind she could.

  He opened the door cautiously. Soft music drifted through the darkness. His eye caught the candlelight from the table and he swore under his breath. Benson quickly closed the door and crossed the room, approaching the sparkling figure on the couch as he removed his jacket and loosened his tie. When he reached Mia, his heart jumped to his throat and his cock stirred.

  She had changed out of her pencil skirt and blouse and into a tiny dress that would drive any sane man crazy. Leaning against a pillow, her dark hair was rustled and displayed around her like an ethereal crown. The dress was short by nature, but it was scrunched up exposing even more of her silk thighs.

  Benson lowered himself over her. His fingers gently trailed up her leg. Mia let out a moan and stirred beneath him. When he reached the curve of her ass, her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him with bedroom eyes tainted with anger. The look was a missile to his heart and his groin.

  “You’re late,” She muttered.

  “I’m sorry,” His jaw was tight as he spoke. “I texted you and told you I’d be staying over.”

  Her eyes looked over at the docking station and then back at him. She didn’t say anything. Rather, she closed her eyes and wiggled into a comfortable position. With an eyebrow cocked, Benson watched as she quickly drifted back to sleep.

  He bent down and kissed her. She woke up slowly, pressing into the kiss as her hands rose and latched onto his back. The couch was wide enough for them both to lie comfortably. He tilted to the side without breaking their kiss. Mia tasted like wine. One swipe against her tongue and the flavors tingled.

  They weren’t hurried. Both seemed content to stay on the couch exploring mouths and bodies with roaming hands. Mia felt like a teenager again, a slight buzz running through her veins as someone’s hands ran through her hair. But that someone was Benson. When her lips were swollen and the ache between her legs was too intense to ignore, Mia reached down for the zipper on Benson’s pants. He stopped her. Before she could say anything he gave her a wicked grin.

  “Dinner first. You worked hard on it, and I don’t want it to go to waste.”

  Mia whined, “Dessert first. Then you can punish me for being a bad girl.”

  “If you want spanked all you have to do is ask,” Benson teased as he sat up.

  Mia swung her legs off the couch and stood smoothly, crossing her arms in the process, “This isn’t fair. I want you now.”

  “A very sexy woman once told me delayed gratification made things better,” He winked and extended a hand. “Come, precious.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do!” She exclaimed with a laugh.

  Benson chuckled and she finally accepted his hand. They crossed over to the table where the candles were burning low and the food was cold and untouched, looking as if it belonged in a magazine spread.

  “It’s going to need heated up,” Mia mused, grabbing the plates and swaying into the kitchen.

  Benson followed, a glass of wine magically in his hand. He watched her pop the plates side by side into the microwave. With tousled hair and a mix of sleepiness and sex woven into all her expressions and movements, it was hard for him to focus on anything but her body. The neckline wasn’t too low, but it showed off the perfect amount of skin. Her body curved like a well-crafted hourglass. She hadn’t tugged the dress back into position after their exploration on the couch, and the garment was bunched high on her thighs. When she turned, the curve of her bottom came into view and Benson claimed it a miracle his glass didn’t shatter into a thousand pieces under the pressure of his grip.

  “We should use those candles before they burn out,” She purred. Her fingers lingered on the hem of her dress.

  Mia watched with delight as Benson calmly set his wine glass down and grabbed her, pulling her into a rough kiss. The beep of the microwave went unnoticed. It was unheard behind the explosion inside the two. He held her ass with both hands and moaned into her mouth. Liquid pooled in her underwear.

  “Bedroom. Now.”

  Benson appeared a minute later in the doorframe with an unlit thick red candle, a far cry from the white ones she had purchased. He stepped into the room and set the candle down. His eyes were devouring her, but she didn’t mind. Mia’s hands dipped behind her back to unzip her dress. She paused, as if waiting for a response, before the crack of the zipper filled the air. Benson stepped over to her and pulled the dress over her head. When he saw what was beneath the sparkling fabric, a possessive growl lodged in his throat.

  “Fuck,” His voice was rugged, but his hands were delicate as the memorized the feel of the bustier.

&nbs
p; Their eyes met. The cool blue that typically stared back at her was a stormy grey. Amidst the lust that tickled every nerve in her body, Mia was overcome with adoration for the man in front of her. She cocked her head and studied his face, something she had done dozens of times over the past few weeks. Strong. Dominant. Arrogant. Perfect.

  She couldn’t resist stroking his cheek gently, “You’re so handsome.”

  The hurricane in his eyes lightened and he kissed her passionately, “Take this off and go lie on the chaise.”

  Mia took her time removing the lingerie, teasing Benson with a sultry peek over her shoulder as she a strap down her arm. They had long ago established their rules in the bedroom, but he knew she had an affinity for breaking the rules. Sometimes he let her, others he pulled her on his lap and punished her. She was thankful that he was more lenient that night. Despite the barked orders and razor sharp edge of his clenched jaw, he was letting her play.

  Once the lacy bustier was pushed aside, Mia swayed to the blue grey button tufted chaise that sat near a set of large windows. The lights went off around them, but with the curtains pulled back on the windows, the glow of the city provided enough light for the two.

  “Have you done this before?” Benson asked, approaching her, a flame now licking the candle.

  She nodded, “Have you?”

  Benson tested the wax on his forearm, “Of course. Lie back, precious.”

  A whimper of excitement rocked her core as she rested back onto the chaise. Benson hovered above her, and it suddenly seemed unfair he was still completely dressed. All her thoughts disappeared as a warm drop of the wax touched her shoulder blade. He was testing her. He had tilted the candle from a high height so that it was warm by the time it reached her. She didn’t want warm. She wanted the sweet pain that accompanied the wax on cool skin.

  When she looked at him with raging lust, Benson lowered the candle by a foot and let another drop of wax fall to her body. Nearly overlapping the first droplet, this one had more heat. He continued the path, trailing red waxy dots from her shoulder and down her breast. The warmth from the first drop had transformed into a fire that not only raged between her legs but under her skin. Her fingers dug into the side of the chaise as she arched into every teasing drop.

  It was apparent that Benson had experience with candles in the bedroom. That or he was a mind reader. When her body craved more of the sting – a hotter burn – he’d lower the candle and the wax would make her squirm with the sweetest mix of pain and pleasure. She never vocalized her discomfort, but whenever it became too much he would draw back and place soft kisses on her inflamed skin.

  She looked like a Jackson Pollock. With the heavy glow of the candle and the New York lights coming in around them, Benson looked at the painting below him. Mia was panting sweet nothings. Her arched back only made the art on her body more prominent. The intricate pattern of red dots was just as sexy as any expensive lingerie. Not able to wait any longer, he blew out the candle and set it on a table near the chaise.

  Benson removed his clothes and positioned himself behind Mia within the blink of an eye. Without warning, he lifted one of her legs and slid into her eager sex. He inhaled sharply with the thrust, lingering in the warm perfection. A beat later and his chest steadied. He bore into her with a rhythm that made her wiggle and moan. When he slid one hand away from her pelvis, where he was holding onto her for leverage, and tweaked her hard nipple Mia exploded. She cried his name and braced onto his thigh as he picked up his speed.

  She begged him to come. One look at his vixen with misty eyes and a flush face and he let out a roar of profanities as he released himself deep inside her. It took a while for them both to float back down to Earth. They spooned on the small chaise. Benson had slowly lowered Mia’s leg, though it still twitched as if it had been stretched too far without warning. She didn’t show any indication of discomfort. He was still inside her, and his tired cock was well aware. He was sure his legs were still jelly, so he stayed for a minute longer.

  “I need to get this wax off of me,” She groaned.

  He slid out of her and steadied himself before pulling her up, “Take a long bath. Haven’t you wanted to use one of those bomb things?”

  “Food,” Mia protested, though she didn’t put up much fight. The Jacuzzi tub in Benson’s bathroom was huge and had enough gizmo attachments to be a rocket ship.

  “Take a bath, precious,” Benson wasn’t suggesting, it was a demand.

  She found her footing and padded across the master suite, flipping the light on in the spa like bathroom as she entered. A large room full of light Brazilian woods contrasted against sleek modern blacks, the bathroom was a showpiece. The rarely used tub was sunken into a platform, accessible only by taking a few steps. Mia started the water and walked over to the sink.

  She grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cool water before peeling away at the dried wax on her chest. She found using a butter knife worked for removing the wax more efficiently, but it didn’t feel as soothing as the cold rag against her skin. The wax came off quickly and she tossed the rag, making a pit stop on her way back to the tub to grab one of the organic bath bombs from one of her drawers in the bathroom. Her drawers.

  Mia shook the weird feeling in her stomach and slid into the warmth of the luxury tub. Even without the jets going, her toes were curling. She dropped the purple bomb the size of a jawbreaker into the tub and watched with a grin as it sizzled and dissolved. The water was a light pastel purple when Benson strode in wearing black satin boxers with two plates in his hands.

  He smiled when he saw her and set the twice reheated salmon dish on the platform. He sat down next to it and said, “Dinner is served. Are you going to turn the jets on?”

  “If the jets go on, I will melt. I haven’t taken a bath in years, and I sure as hell have never been in something this nice.”

  He held up a bite of the salmon, including one of the sliced cherry tomatoes drizzled in sauce. She accepted the food and licked her lips, savoring the dish. Even reheated it proved to be one of the better meals she cooked.

  “Your bath smells good,” He mused, feeding her another bite.

  She made sure to swallow before talking, “Lavender and vanilla. It’s supposed to help with sleep.”

  “You don’t have any problems sleeping,” Benson snorted.

  Mia resisted the urge to splash water on him, “You wear me out, your bed is made of angel feathers, and I get to fall asleep next to you.”

  She blushed and was thankful Benson fed her another bite of food. It wasn’t that she hadn’t slept terribly before Benson. Running away as a kid taught her to fall asleep anywhere. When she had a dorm and then an apartment where she knew she was safe, she slept even better. Even if Benson kept her up half the night, she still felt refreshed when she woke for the day.

  “I think I like waking up with you more than I do falling asleep with you,” Benson admitted, sliding the fork out of her mouth and stabbing the final bite together. “For a few seconds I always think it’s a dream, and it is heaven. When I wake up enough to realize you’re not a figment of my imagination…”

  Benson shook his head and looked away, embarrassed by the translucence. Mia had probably drawn blood from biting her lip as she tried not to cry.

  “That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  He glanced back over at her with a half-smile, “You deserve more than that.”

  She shook her head, “Shut up and take your shorts off. I want you in here with me.”

  “I thought I gave the orders around here,” Benson mumbled, though he smiled and did as she said. He turned the jets on as he climbed in.

  Mia sunk into the massaging streams, “You’re going to smell like flowers and girly things. Here- now it’s my turn to feed you.”

  He shrugged as he scooted closer and took a long awaited bite of the fish, “Who knew you could cook like this?”

  “I was tired of dining halls and fast food, so
when I had my own kitchen I got a little obsessed with cooking shows. One time I was late with rent because I had to have some smelly cheese and a fifty dollar bottle of olive oil,” She gave a sheepish smile. “I’m better with money now, I promise.”

  As she fed Benson, she told him a story about how her elderly neighbor once knocked on her door pretending to have dementia to steal groceries from her. The woman waited until Mia had went to grab her cell phone before she swept nearly everything from the pantry into a plastic bag and shuffled out the door. Instead of calling the cops, Mia went next door and cooked with the woman, only taking back half of her groceries.

  Setting their plates aside, the two nestled into the jets. It was comforting. While there was obvious attraction, the purpose of the bath was to relax, not to seduce. Benson pulled Mia’s feet into his lap and massaged them above the water.

  He thought in two weeks he had known everything there was to know about her, as if during the night everything had been downloaded to his brain. But every day she proved him wrong. When she told him stories about helping her neighbors, even when she didn’t have any money, or how her dad used to take her and her brother for ice cream every Saturday night, Benson was forced to see the nooks that had been undiscovered.

  He didn’t have many stories to tell her. He had been raised by a nanny. He had no special stories about his parents, though both were still alive. His childhood was full of forced extra-curricular activities that transferred over to high school so he could get into his father’s alma mater. He wasn’t particularly friendly in college; he swayed back and forth from 48 hour long study sessions to all night drunken binges that ended in bed with random women. He’d traveled the world, had a great education, and was a billionaire- but what did he have to show for it? Mia had struggled. She had worked hard. She fell a few times, but had great stories to show for it.

  “What’s going on in your head?” She asked softly, looking over at the scowl faced Benson.

  He shook, “Nothing. Why?”

  “You’re kneading my foot like it’s a loaf of bread.”