Resisting Fate

by Kylie Gilmore

She burst out laughing.

  “Of course, that’s just when she wants to butter me up,” he added, which made her laugh more. “Alright, that’s enough. Geez, pull yourself together.”

  Luckily, the samosas arrived and she was able to calm down again.

  Ben lifted one. “Now tell me something about Missy, or the samosa gets it.”

  “The samosa gets it.”

  He took a bite. “No sympathy for the plight of this fried bit of heaven, eh?”

  She took a bite and chewed. “I’m not sure what you want to know.”

  “Anything. It’s like pulling teeth with you.”

  “Okay, okay, my favorite color is green, I don’t like sweets except cherry vanilla ice cream, I love snow, and my absolute favorite movie is The Terminator.”

  His brows scrunched together. “You like guy movies?”

  “There’s no such thing as a guy movie or a girl movie. It’s just a movie and I like it.”

  “That’s not really your favorite. You’re just saying that because you’re with me. You probably tell your friends you like a chick flick.”

  “It really is!”

  “Why?” he asked, his voice full of challenge.

  “Because she’s a total badass doing everything she can to save her son,” she fired back.

  He gazed at her with deep affection before finally saying, “Thank you.”

  She looked away, embarrassed for some reason. “No big,” she muttered, taking another bite of samosa.

  Ben must’ve sensed her discomfort because he didn’t press for any more information, instead making her laugh with stories of growing up with the Campbells and the other guys who’d been taken under Mr. Campbell’s wing for one reason or another. Her favorite story was when a hulking teen-aged Marcus took in a tiny white kitten he called Bitty Kitty, hiding it in his jacket pocket, trying hard to cover up the occasional meow by fake sneezing. She could just imagine Marcus with a kitten in his big paw. The best part of the story, though, was Ben helping Marcus out by bringing the kitten to Ben’s grandmother, promising Marcus full visitation rights. Marcus couldn’t keep the kitten at his apartment since they weren’t allowed to have pets. Apparently, Marcus had visited Ben’s grandmother for years, bonding over their shared love for Bitty. It spoke to Ben’s deeply compassionate nature, even as a teenager, that he stepped in to help Marcus find a way to keep his kitten.

  After dinner, Ben drove her home, both of them quiet. The radio was on, soft Christmas carols playing in the background. Full and content, she never wanted the night to end. He’d shared quite a bit of his life growing up, and it made her feel close to him.

  “I grew up in California,” she blurted in an attempt to share like he had.

  He glanced at her. “Okay,” he said slowly.

  “That’s why I love snow. It’s still new for me, and it feels like a miracle every time. Soft magic falling from the sky, making everything shiny and new.”

  “Never thought about it quite like that. It was great as a kid, especially getting the day off school. Now it’s just there, something to shovel and clear.”

  “You’re lucky you grew up with it. You probably got to go sledding, make a snowman, have snowball fights.”

  “Snowball fights are the best. Next snowstorm, we’ll have a snowball fight.”

  She found herself smiling. “Awesome.” She liked the way he talked about “next time” with her. Like he wanted to stick around for a while. “When we get to my place, why don’t you come up?”

  “Way ahead of you, Missy. I come prepared. Condom in my pocket.”

  She laughed. “Just one?”

  “Three, actually. I’ve been fantasizing about you for an excruciatingly long time. Basically since the last time.”

  Her stomach did a topsy-turvy flip. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. First time might be fast and furious, but then I want to slow things down. If you could just keep from going animal on me—”

  “Animal!” she cried.

  “You’re like wrestling a sexy alligator, all claws and snapping teeth, rolling around with me.”

  She burst out laughing. “You really need to work on your compliments. First I’m an Irish setter, then I’m an alligator?”

  “I call ’em like I see ’em.”

  “I just like what I like.”

  “I like what you like too. But I think we can manage a slow fuck, sort of build to a monster orgasm.”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “That sounds good.”

  “I so want to finger bang you right now, but it’s dark and I should focus on driving.”

  She whimpered, drenched with desire.

  “Like the dirty talk, huh? I got plenty.”

  “Hold that thought. You’re driving me crazy and I’ve got to wait for at least a twenty-minute drive.”

  That only encouraged him. He kept up the dirty talk, telling her everything he wanted to do to her, every fantasy he’d had about her, making her ache with need.

  This had to happen fast.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Missy had barely gotten her apartment door open when they slammed together, mouths fused, hands grabbing, rushing inside her apartment. He hiked up her skirt and stripped her tights and panties off. She lost her balance because she was trying to get his pants off. He caught her in his arms, lowering her the rest of the way to the floor, kissing her ravenously. They were animals and she didn’t care. She worked her hands between them to undo his button and zipper, and he lifted his hips to give her access.

  He tore his mouth away, grabbed the condom and got it on in record time before returning to her, sliding between her legs and thrusting inside.

  She threw her head back in bliss, the joining one she’d craved for too long. She hung on as he pumped hard and deep, closing her eyes, letting go of everything but the feel of his hot skin, the deep pressure as he filled her; his scent, spice and sex—all of it consumed her. His hand slipped under her ass, lifting her for a deeper penetration that rocked her, the sensations overwhelming, building and building and building, and then she cried out, the explosion of pleasure from her center radiating out. He followed only a moment later, clutching her tight against him.

  A long moment later, he lifted his head. “That was the fast and furious.”

  She couldn’t help her goofy smile. “We’re animals.”

  He nipped her bottom lip. “Next time we’ll make it to the bed.”

  “How long for that?”

  He grinned. “You want to know how long until I can get it up again?” He moved a slow circle inside her. “With you, not long at all.”

  She beamed.

  An hour later, after an excruciating long bout of foreplay—all Ben’s doing, the man was the worst tease—they finally got down to serious business. In her bed. Her on top.

  He cupped her ass and gave her a sexy smile. “I know you like being on top, but if you’re doing your animal thing, this won’t be a slow fuck.”

  “I’ll go slow.” Which she did at first, but then it felt so good she couldn’t help but speed up, letting herself get noisy, enjoying the hell out of the ride.

  He grabbed her by the hips, stilling her. “Changing positions. Keep your knees where I can see them.”

  She would’ve laughed if she wasn’t so close to the release she craved with every cell in her being.

  He flipped her under him, thrusting in slow and deep, his hand coming up to cradle her cheek. “You’re so beautiful. These sexy lips.” He kissed her lips. “These sweet blushing cheeks.” He kissed each of her cheeks. “This cute nose.” Another light kiss.

  “Fuck me.” She arched her hips up.

  “This jaw.” He kissed her jaw, shifting to nuzzle her neck, bringing hot shivers. His voice was gravelly. “Slow this time. Give me that, okay?”

  Hot tears stung her eyes for reasons she couldn’t comprehend. She squeezed them tight together.

  He kissed her closed eyelids softly. She opened her eyes and he wipe
d a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

  She turned her head away, embarrassed.

  He cupped her jaw and turned her back to him. “I like this side of you, all soft and tender. You don’t have to hide from me.”

  She glared at him, and he merely chuckled, saying, “All right, then,” before resuming slow thrusts. Their gazes locked and she didn’t turn from the tenderness she saw there, and maybe she had a little tenderness too, because everything felt different. Magical. Beautiful. Glowing. This wasn’t fucking. He’d been trying to make love to her, and for the first time in her life, she knew what that meant.

  She grabbed his head and kissed him, pouring all she felt for him, all the mushy tenderness and passion, into that kiss. He returned it with equal passion, lighting her up inside. Finally, she broke the kiss, breathless.

  “Yes,” he murmured, pumping faster, his breath mingling with hers. Her heart drummed in her chest, the pleasure he brought escalating, bringing her closer to him, merging together body and soul. And then a starburst of pleasure radiated through her, leaving her trembling and breathless. His teeth sank into her neck, jolting her and exciting her at the same time, as he pumped into her hard and fast. She went over again in another rush of pleasure along with his release.

  He gave her some of his weight and she hugged him. She’d never hugged anyone after sex. It just felt right.

  After a moment, he lifted his head and brushed her hair back from her face. His eyes were questioning—their connection so deep she understood. And, for the first time with a man, thought maybe he understood her too. He wanted to know if she was okay, wanted to know if they could have more, wanted to know if he could stay.

  She nodded.

  He kissed her tenderly. “Thank you.”

  She was falling for him. It scared her, but she felt too good to fight it. For as long as they had, she just wanted to enjoy him. She reached over and turned off the light on the nightstand.

  He settled the covers over them and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. She settled her head on his chest, listening to the solid thump of his heart.

  He dropped a kiss on top of her head. “I’ve never had a serious relationship. Thought I should just put that out there.”

  She turned the light back on to look at him, shocked he’d actually said the words “serious relationship.” Most men could barely think relationship let alone say it out loud. His expression was relaxed, his eyes holding hers with a steady gaze.

  “Is that a warning?” she asked.

  His lips curved. “I’m just saying I’m probably gonna fuck up at some point.”

  “So you’ll refer back to this conversation? Kind of a free pass?”

  He laughed. “I told you I’m new at this. See how I already pissed you off?”

  She kissed him soundly on the mouth. “I’m not pissed off at all. I’m…happy. I’ve—” she swallowed hard “—I’ve never felt this way before.”

  He gave her a small squeeze, his eyes warm on hers. “Me too.”

  She turned off the light and snuggled back against him.

  Ben spoke in a gentle tone. “Can you tell me why you got upset when I held your wrists the last time we had sex?”

  Her glow receded, cold stealing through her. She said nothing. The fact that she’d been with a man like Louis, staying with him way too long, been a victim, it filled her with shame. She knew it wasn’t her fault. She’d fought hard to rise above it. But there it was—humiliating shame. A reminder of the high cost of love. One that made her want to pull away from Ben and flee.

  “Missy, I sense something bad happened to you, and I just want to avoid any triggers that might send you back to reliving the experience. It’s only because I care about you.”

  Adrenaline surged through her, her breathing rough, her skin clammy. His words were close to what a social worker might say or a counselor. He must’ve understood traumatic situations more than most people because of his social worker mom. She reached down deep, fighting every defensive instinct, searching for the words that wouldn’t reveal too much. “I don’t like my wrists restrained,” she whispered. “And no hair pulling.” Or slapping or yelling.

  His arms tightened around her. “What happened?”

  Her throat clogged, making it impossible to share more.

  “You can tell me anything. No judgment.”

  She tried to roll away from him, but he pulled her back in tight. She didn’t fight him. Some part of her needed him close right now.

  “Okay,” he said in a soothing voice. “It’s okay. I know enough.”

  She tried to relax again, but it was impossible. Part of her wanted to run far away and hide. How could she crave this intimacy yet fear it? She didn’t know how to open her heart and still feel safe.

  “Missy, you sexy alligator, I need a hug after you wrung that monster orgasm out of me. Climb up here.”

  She laughed a little as he pulled her fully on top of him and wrapped her in one of his radiant loving hugs. Long after she would’ve pulled away, he held on, until finally she relaxed again and drifted off to sleep.

  ~ ~ ~

  Ben couldn’t get enough of Missy. He spent the whole weekend at her place. They even cooked dinner together Saturday night, and he actually liked it. Everything was great. Beyond great, everything was perfect. That worried him because nothing was ever that perfect. But did that stop him? Hell no. Some force greater than himself pushed past all his defenses and kept him close to her, closer than he’d ever been with a woman. And he knew the feeling was mutual because she welcomed him with open arms and soft smiles.

  Now it was late Sunday morning and they were cuddled together on her sofa, watching a Hallmark Christmas movie, his man card hiding somewhere at his place. He couldn’t care less about the couple on the screen decorating a Christmas tree. All he cared about was the woman in his arms, tough and strong, yet moved by sappy movies and babies and sweet words. He wanted to bring her home to meet his grandmother. Maybe on Christmas Eve; it was only two days away.

  He dropped a kiss on her head, waiting for the commercial to ask her about Christmas Eve because he was that awesome of a boyfriend. Finally, the commercial came on, and he tipped her chin up toward him. “What’re you doing Christmas Eve?”

  “A lot. I’ve got to wrap the Harpers’ presents, prepare the food, pick up a gift card, and then I have to get everything over to them and set up. It’s a surprise, did I tell you that?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it is.”

  “You’re doing a lot for that family. What’s their deal?”

  “It’s not just me,” she said, dodging the question and not for the first time. “It’s from everyone at church. Everyone contributed toward raising the money.”

  “And then you earned even more. You sure you don’t want to work for us?”

  She gave him a soft smile. “I love you guys, but I also love my family. The Marinos mean everything to me. They brought me on because they have a long history of family-run business.”

  He swallowed hard. Did she just say she loved him, or was that just a casual I-love-everyone thing?

  She kissed him, a quick peck, and turned back to the TV. He stared straight ahead. Should he tell her he loved her? He was pretty sure that was what had taken over his brain. Why else would he have endured three weeks of blue balls just getting to know her as friends? Why else would he actually enjoy cooking dinner with her when it was normally a dreaded chore? Or enjoy cuddling on the sofa, watching chick flicks? But maybe it was too soon for love. Four weeks and change of intense attraction, maybe more if you counted running into each other and flirting regularly before that.

  Maybe this was just advanced lust. They did have a lot of awesome sex this weekend, and he’d spent the night, twice, with zero problem sleeping. He’d only ever spent the night with his ex to avoid a big fight. He supposed he could stop having sex with Missy and see if he still felt good about cuddling and watching chick
flicks. That would be a sure sign of love.

  Nah.

  No good could come from depriving himself. Like he could keep his hands off her. As it was, his hand spanned her flat stomach under her sweater and would be slipping up to the front hook on her bra or down her pants any moment. He hadn’t decided yet. Down the pants would be a fast fuck, which was always awesome, but up to her breasts could be a slow seduction that made her come undone. Decisions, decisions.

  Someone pounded on the front door and she jumped.

  “You expecting someone?” he asked.

  “No,” she whispered.

  He untangled himself from her body and stood. “I’ll go see who it is.”

  She turned off the TV, her arms crossed.

  “Missy!” a man’s voice barked. “Answer the door!”

  Ben frowned, turning to Missy. The color drained from her face. “Who is it?” he whispered.

  She shook her head, shrinking into the corner of the sofa.

  The man pounded so hard the door shook.

  “Who is it?” Ben barked at the man.

  “Who’re you?” the man asked belligerently.

  “What do you want?” Ben hollered.

  The doorknob jiggled. The chain was on, but if the guy was big enough and determined enough, he might be able to bust through.

  Ben turned to Missy. “Call nine-one-one.”

  “No,” she said in a small voice.

  He stared at her for a moment. She was visibly shaking, cowering in the corner of the sofa. This was not the Missy he knew. What had this man done to her?

  “Go away!” Ben hollered through the door. “We called the cops.” He felt his pockets for his phone. Must’ve fallen out on the sofa. He rushed to the sofa, and Missy leapt out of it like he was about to attack her. “Easy,” he said, holding up his phone.

  The idiot outside kept alternating pounding on the door, jiggling the knob, and then throwing his weight against the door. “You owe me!” the man hollered.

  Ben had only hit one digit on his phone when Missy ran to the door and yanked it open, the chain preventing it from opening all the way. Ben rushed to her side.

  “I owe you nothing!” Missy yelled so loud her voice cracked. “You stole their money, you bastard.”