“Of course you’re not the same. You’re even better. Now, you are the woman who gave me three wonderful sons, lives that grew and formed in your body until you brought them into the world for me. I’ve heard women say that chicks love scars. Well for me, Beth, you’re like a fucking warrior goddess. I love seeing the changes childbirth made to you. Call me selfish but every time I do, I’m reminded of what you did for me—the precious gifts you bestowed on me. Stop being so ashamed of your body, Beth. I’m not. I love it. I have to fight each day not to pull you into my arms and make love to you, fuck you until you stop pulling away from me, so you fall in love with me again.”
Chapter Seven
Fall in love with him again? Beth had heard the words come from Ben’s lips but she couldn’t believe them. He actually thought she didn’t love him anymore. She had been so caught up in her own misery, she’d not considered Ben might have started thinking that way.
Why not though? She had pushed him away, stopped making love to him, hardly let him kiss her anymore. She had made such a mess of this. Beth was determined to put things right, though. She and Ben had three nights alone together. Ben loved her, she loved him—with a ferocity she hadn’t realized she had. Now it was up to her to show Ben just how much he meant to her.
“I don’t need to fall in love with you again, Ben.”
Ben’s eyes widened, disappointment showing from their bright blue depths.
He thinks I’m going to say it’s too late. “I don’t think you understand, Ben. I don’t need to fall in love with you again because I never fell out of love with you. I love you so much. I’m sorry for making you feel that way, for not making time for you. To be honest, I think maybe I was punishing myself—or maybe you—because I couldn’t be the wife or mother I wanted to be, the one I thought you wanted me to be. We’re quite a pair!”
Beth watched the smile form on Ben’s face, saw the flicker of relief in his features as his eyes deepened in color, yet another sign she’d come to know as his desire—for her. She moved in even closer to his body so they touched. Beth crushed her breasts into Ben’s chest, felt the warmth from his body heat as her nipples tightened into hard nubs. Ben’s arms had been wrapped around her this whole time but now they squeezed her just a little more, holding her tighter to him. Ben massaged up and down her spine. Her body willingly responded.
Beth turned her face up toward Ben’s. She wanted him to kiss her and licked her lips in eagerness, waiting for their mouths to meet. Ben did kiss her. As his lips pressed against her own, she opened to him, his tongue sweeping past her teeth to explore. She met his tongue with her own and enjoyed the sensual connection heating her to a point of desire so strong Beth knew she would have no problem, this time, submitting to the demands her body made. She was going to make love to Ben. It was clear that was what she needed—they needed.
For the life of her, Beth couldn’t understand why she had put a stop to their physical contact, because at the moment she felt better than she had in years.
She moaned in dissent as Ben pulled his head away from her, his action leaving Beth feeling adrift without the connection of his lips on hers.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want this, Ben? I want you. Please take me now. Make love to me before my head starts playing games, fills me silly insecurities that override my desire.”
What am I doing? Ben couldn’t believe he’d been the one to call a halt this time. He’d only paused to suggest they move into the bedroom, but Beth voicing her concerns, that she might lose her desire if they didn’t hurry, brought him back to reality. He needed to woo his wife, not race her off to bed like some horny teen the first chance he got. Romance and desire was the prevailing formula here. More than just their sexual responses to each other required healing over these next few days, so did their personal relationship. The close, almost magical connection they’d once shared had to be renewed, restored.
Only then could Ben move forward. His objective being to make Beth so hot for him her mind didn’t stand a chance in hell of diminishing her sexual desire.
“Beth, I want nothing more than to sink my hard cock into your pussy. Look at me, feel me,” Ben said as he took Beth’s hand and placed her slender fingers over his aching cock, now fighting for room in his jeans. “Feel what you do to me, but I want to romance you some first—make this time we have alone together, special. Let’s start out slow, maybe a stroll along the beach, followed by a candlelight dinner. Then we can come back and snuggle up together on the couch, watch a movie, enjoy the little things we’ve been missing out on. I want you to want to make love to me, baby, without fear or hesitation or the worry you might lose the mood.”
“I certainly feel something.” Beth laughed, a sound Ben had not heard for a long time. The sexy little noise nearly had him rethinking his plan. When she cupped the shape of his cock over the denim of his jeans and squeezed, Ben nearly lost all control. He hurt with the need to make love to his wife. Gently removing Beth’s hand from the discernible bulge of his erection—and ignoring the whispers of complaint inside his head that were obviously being inspired by his now painfully aroused cock wanting relief—he took a step away from the temptation standing before him.
“You’re playing with fire, wife. I want you so much I hurt. If we don’t go for that walk, this minute, I will not be responsible for my actions.”
The smile Beth graced him with was beautiful, hinting of a little mischief. The way her gaze roamed over his body, taking particular interest in his all too ready for action cock, had Ben finding it increasingly difficult not to sweep Beth up in his arms and head for the bed—or the couch or the bloody dining table. She was not making it easy for him to do the right thing.
“C’mon, baby. Take a walk with me. Let’s hold hands, take in the beautiful scenery. So later, when I lock you away in our bedroom, make love to you for hours, lick and kiss every inch of your body while I tease you until you’re begging me to let you come, I won’t feel so guilty.”
“Okay, Ben, I think a walk would be nice. But just remember it was your idea when you start complaining about the number of shells I want to take home.” Beth hesitated just a little before she continued, “Are we going to go for a swim? I’d have to go get changed first…which would mean taking off all my clothes…”
The image of Beth naked quickly filled Ben’s mind, forcing a groan to escape his lips. His already painful cock throbbed. He could picture sliding into Beth’s wet pussy, feel what it would be like to have her inner walls clasp tight to his shaft.
“Beth, you’re killing me here, baby.” He growled through clenched teeth, doing his best to ignore Beth’s all-too-knowing wicked grin as she watched him trying in vain to readjust his cock now pressing hard against the zipper teeth on his jeans, to a less painful position—an almost impossible mission.
“No changing. We are going now!” Ben took Beth by the hand and dragged her toward the sliding glass door leading to the secluded beach, the sound of her laughter filling his ears.
Chapter Eight
Beth couldn’t believe the change in her mood. Those niggling self-doubts, haunting her daily for so long, had not surfaced again since those first few minutes. She was relaxed, happy—emotions foreign to her of late.
Walking hand in hand along the beach to dinner, the stars twinkling above and the sound of the waves rolling onto the sand a soothing melody, Beth felt the confidence she needed to start to discuss their problems.
“I’m so sorry for letting everything get on top of me, Ben,” she began.
“Bethy, this isn’t your fault, babe. I should have been there for you more, shown you how much I appreciate what you have done for me, for the boys. I just left you to deal with it all. I could see you had your hands full and that life was wearing you down and I ignored it. I got to experience the fun times with the kids—the footy, the play time—while you got dumped with the rest.”
Beth had to fight back tears when Ben tried to blame himself for t
heir recent relationship problems. “I don’t think you could have done anything, Ben. I wouldn’t have noticed or believed you anyway. I probably would have made myself feel even guiltier that I couldn’t be the perfect wife and mother if you’d tried to help. But now I’m not sure what my definition of that word is. We do have a wonderful life. A beautiful home, that sometimes looks like a bomb went off, but it is ours. We have three healthy children and I have a husband that is just getting sexier every year. I love you so much, Ben—what is more perfect than that? I don’t need to bake cookies to prove I’m a good mother, especially when you can just grab a packet of Tim Tams from the shops.”
“I love our life, too, Bethy. Baking cookies is not the definition of motherly love, although I wouldn’t knock back the ole chocky biscuit every now and again. You are a good mother, the best. Our sons are lucky to have you. I know that better than most. Luke is always singing your praises. Why do you think he visits every week? Because you have made us a family.”
Beth had never looked at it that way. She’d always believed Luke came around to see his brother. “I’m always so grumpy, nagging and yelling at everyone. I hate it. I hate what I’ve become. I want to feel beautiful, wear nice clothes again, feel good about myself… But I just never seem to find the time to get it all together.”
“Oh, baby, you are beautiful to me but I want you to feel it for yourself. I’m so sorry you don’t, when what I see is so precious to me. I think we just need to make more time for us.” Ben stopped walking and pulled her around to face him. “We can do this, together. We just need to sit down and work it out. We used to do that. Work as a team and we will get there again. Just the other day when I was watching you wash dishes, I realized we need a dishwasher. I know that’s just a small almost insignificant thing but it’s a start, and the boys are getting old enough to help out, put their own dish in to be washed. And I need to make more of an effort to be home each night to help with dinner, even if it’s just to keep our sons from destroying the house.”
“Your job is important, Ben. Not just for the money but because you enjoy doing it. I don’t want you to get behind or miss out on a promotion because you’re not fully focused. I know it can be stressful with deadlines and that sometimes things need to be handled on the spot. I don’t expect you to rush home every day. It sometimes would be nice, though, and definitely a help. If I take my eyes off those kids for a second, disaster follows. I do like the dishwasher idea though. I’ve been meaning to mention it to you…”
“The disaster issue is my fault for sure—it’s in the Russell genes,” Ben said and smiled before giving Beth a quick kiss.
She leaned back toward Ben to try to capture his lips again, just as he started to speak.
“My family is more important. My wife is more important. I don’t want to live for work. I want to work to live. Coming home to spend time with my family is more valuable than any promotion. I miss you. I miss our times together. I want to help you raise the boys and do more around the house but I never know what you need me to do. I’m a man. You need to tell me what is going on. I promise from now on I will listen and stop believing that ignoring a problem will make it disappear. C’mon, babe. Let’s go get something to eat and some champagne to toast to our future.”
* * * *
They continued their emotional, honest and heart-felt conversations through dinner, working through all the apologies again and the self-recriminations. Every time Ben tried to take the blame, Beth tried to shift the culpability from his shoulders to hers—until together—they decided placing blame to be a pointless exercise.
“Okay, let’s agree we both made mistakes and move on from here,” Ben said, and that was exactly what Beth wanted to do, move on and accept that asking for help was not a sign of weakness.
They spoke of changes that could be made to help ease burdens and worries. Just like old times, a sense of togetherness, of love, joined them as one. Beth enjoyed the way they flirted, joked, teased and touched. Laughter and happiness brimming over as past hurts began to repair. It would not happen overnight, recovering from the past few years’ problems, but she believed they had made a good start.
Loving Ben was part of her being, as important to her as breathing. Beth made a promise to herself as she gazed into the eyes of her breathtakingly handsome, caring husband that she would never let anything get in their way again. No silly notions she wasn’t good enough or didn’t deserve to be loved would drive a wedge between them. She was going to prove it to him the second they walked through the beach house door.
During dessert, she came up with a plan. Their fresh fruit platter her inspiration—and seeing the love for her so clearly in Ben’s eyes as he sat across the table from her. Getting her hands on his naked body, the images of what she would do to him had her squirming in her seat, the moisture from her throbbing pussy making her panties wet.
Anticipation mixed with desire filled her mind as Ben paid the bill. Holding hands, they made the short stroll back to the beach house. Lost in thought, erotic thought, Beth had not realized they had arrived at their destination until Ben’s voice caught her attention.
“I’m going to go run a bath for you, sweetheart. Give me a few minutes and I’ll have it ready for you. Maybe if I’m a lucky man, you’ll let me scrub your back for you,” Ben said, as he opened the door for them.
Though taking a bath was easily the last thing Beth was thinking about, Ben being busy would give her a chance to set her plan in motion.
“What a lovely idea, Ben. I’ll just get my toiletries bag. As for scrubbing my back… Hmmm, let me think about it. I was hoping for something else, but if you have your heart set on washing me there, well, who am I to disappoint you?”
The look of pure unadulterated lust Ben gave her had her stepping toward him involuntarily. The idea of throwing her body at him or dropping to her knees, pleading for him to make love to her, now—on the floor—was a very strong compulsion Beth found hard to ignore. As they stood still, staring into each other’s eyes, Beth felt the ripple of excitement down to her core. Her nipples strained, the tight nubs pushing at her top.
Finally, Ben broke eye contact. He groaned and muttered under his breath, as he turned away and headed toward the bathroom. She hadn’t clearly heard what he’d said but got the impression it might involve what he wanted to do to her. The words, ‘impale’, ‘cock’ and ‘pussy’ easy enough to understand.
As soon as Ben was out of the room, Beth dashed for the phone and dialed the number for room service. She needed mangos—fast. Holding the receiver to her ear, she waited impatiently for the line to be answered, the strong beat of her heart matching the tones of the ringing line.
“Room service, how may I help you?” a woman’s voice inquired. The voice sounded a little too forced and overly cheerful.
“Hi, this is Beth Russell at the beach house. I’m hoping to get some mangos delivered to our room please,” she whispered covering her mouth and the phone with her hand, trying to muffle the sound of her request.
“What do you mean? You have none left?” Grimacing at her own tone in response to the voice on the other end of the call, Beth rephrased, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so short. Do you have any fruit at all you could deliver?”
How on earth does a tropical island run out of fruit? Beth put the phone back on the table, as disappointment washed over her. She could not believe her bad luck. “So I need a plan B then.”
“Beth, are you coming? The bath is ready for you.”
“I’m coming,” she replied, adding just a little more quietly, “so will you be soon, Ben. Guess I’ll just have to make it up as I go along.”
So far everything had gone according to plan. Room service had decked out the bathroom impressively. He’d have to remember to thank the resort staff for going to such lengths for him. I definitely need to add a big tip when we check out. Lighting the candles that filled every spare flat surface of the room had taken longer than he
had thought, since there were so many. The sweet aromas of the peeled cut mango and chunks of fresh pineapple filled the room intoxicatingly.
He’d only half filled the bath so the level of the water wouldn’t cover Beth’s body completely, thus giving him the perfect table to indulge in a feast of the delicious fruit. Of course feasting on Beth would be even better. His visions were arousing him. Ben was eager to begin the seduction of his wife.
The candle flicker lighting the room set a romantic atmosphere. With a glass of champagne in each hand, Ben waited for Beth to join him. “What on earth is taking her so long?” he mumbled to himself.
Just as he said the words, Beth appeared in the doorway. Ben watched with bated breath for her reaction.
Of all the responses imagined while hatching the plan, her laughing at him wasn’t one of them.
“Well that’s not quite the reaction I had in mind. Tears maybe or some utterances of undying love perhaps?”
“Let me explain,” Beth said, as she walked toward him, her amusement now under control but with a big smile still shining brightly. “I just got off the phone with room service. Guess what I tried to order—only to be told there was no fruit left? Now I understand why. Oh, Ben, this is beautiful.”
Ben couldn’t help a few hearty chuckles of his own. It wasn’t the first time Beth and he had had the same idea at the same time.
“No, Beth, you’re beautiful. Now get those clothes off before I tear them from you. I have this incredible urge for fruit—but I need the right table.”
“What if I’m hungry and need my own table?” his saucy wife replied, a cheeky grin on her face.
“Well you’ll have to wait your turn, sweetheart. Me first! Luckily, there’s plenty of fruit for us both to share, with the incredible bonus of no distractions to keep us from enjoying the whole basket.”
A Fruitful Intimacy Page 5