Dirty Little Lies (Dirty Little #2)

by Cassie Cross

  His body stiffens, and he pulses inside of me with a long, low groan.

  As we come down from our highs, breathing heavily, we both hang onto each other for dear life. In my blissed-out, hopeful, post-orgasmic haze, I find myself hoping like hell that everything he’s been telling me is true.

  I think I’m too far gone now to keep pushing him away.

  I’m not sure I want to anymore.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I wake up to the gentle tickle of Ben running his finger up and down my side, a pillow crushed under his arm, and he’s cradling his head in his hand as he sleepily grins down at me.

  “Hi,” he says, his voice all sexy and morning-rough.

  “Hi.” I reply with a smile that I can’t seem to help, and I brace my hands against the headboard, stretching out my tired muscles. They ache in the best way, from the best kind of overuse.

  After once in the foyer, we made it to the steps before the next round, and then tested out the sturdiness off my bed and dresser a couple of times. It was mind-blowingly amazing. Like, better than it had ever been between us.

  So, I’m happy, and feeling a little bit dazed this morning.

  “I’m thinking about pancakes,” Ben says, his fingers still moving, finding their way along the curve of my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple.

  I let out a surprised laugh, and pretend like I’m offended (I’m just a little offended). “You’ve got your hand on my breast, and you’re thinking about pancakes?”

  His eyes widen in unbridled panic, and unfortunately for me, he removes his hand from where it was, stopping the very pleasant ministrations in the process.

  “No! I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just…”

  As he’s in the middle of his explanation, his stomach rumbles, loud and clear.

  Ben slides his hand along the underside of my breast now, and gives me a sly grin. “What I meant was that I worked up quite the appetite last night-”

  “And this morning,” I interrupt.

  “Yeah.” His thumb cuts across my nipple again, and I let out a soft little gasp. “And I was thinking about refueling with some pancakes.”

  Last night I took a step that I had been fighting for weeks, and now the two of us are in bed together on a Sunday morning, like we’re a couple again, no cares in the world.

  I’ve spent so long thinking that this couldn’t happen again, swearing that I wouldn’t let it happen again, that it almost feels impossible that Ben’s here in bed with me, sharing this quiet intimacy as we tease each other about what we’re going to have for breakfast.

  Here, in the warm light of the early morning, so many things seem possible.

  I just hope I won’t wind up regretting this.

  “I didn’t come home with you to have sex with you. Just so you know.”

  I raise my brow, trying to look serious despite that pretty amazing thing he’s doing with his hand. “Is that particularly important now? After all the sex we had, I mean.”

  “It’s incredibly important,” he says solemnly. “I just don’t want you to think that, I don’t know…that I took advantage of you.”

  It’s almost unnerving to see him being so bashful now, but it’s endearing as well. “I remember being a pretty enthusiastic participant. Multiple times.”

  He nods, and his stubble scratches against my forehead. “Yeah. I just wanted to make sure.”

  “Four orgasms later, you have one very satisfied customer.”

  Ben laughs, and the short huff of air blows a piece of hair across my forehead. It tickles, but I don’t dare move. Lying here with him like this is perfect, I don’t want to disturb it. But, I am curious.

  “If you didn’t come over here for sex,” I say, sliding my hand across his broad, ridiculously muscled shoulder, “what did you come over here for?”

  With an innocent shrug, Ben says, “You asked me to come up, and I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

  It’s a good thing I’m lying down, because this man knows how make a girl a little weak in the knees. It’s not exactly a new thing, the pillow talk. He’s always been fairly good at seducing me, even back when he was a constant cheat. He can mess up a relationship for sure, but he also knows the right thing to say to get me going again. It can be a little unnerving to hear these things when I don’t totally trust him, but I believe what he’s telling me.

  I know he’s being sincere.

  “I’m glad you did.”

  I can practically see the spark of hope that lights up his eyes. “Really?”

  I nod.

  “Is that you or your orgasms talking?”

  A delighted laugh makes its way out of me. “Both?”

  With a smile, Ben says, “I’ll take it.”

  “There is one thing that I need to say, though.”

  Ben inhales a long, unsteady breath. “Okay.”

  I take his hand, so he doesn’t think I’m about to drop a bomb on him, or break his heart or something. “If we’re going to do this, if I agree to give you another chance…Ben, I swear to god if I catch you cheating on me again, I’ll…” I can’t even finish the thought. “I’m doing this against my better judgment, but I want to give you another chance. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, that you’ve changed and you’re a better person, and can be a better boyfriend than you were before. Please don’t make me regret that decision.”

  He cups my face in his hands, his eyes earnest as he leans down and gives me a soft kiss. “I won’t make you regret it, I promise. I know my promises didn’t mean much before, but they mean something now. You won’t regret this.”

  “Okay,” I breathe. “Okay.”

  He kisses me again, all slow and tender, and my mind gets going again, distracting me. I just have to say one more thing before we can move on.

  “I do have a condition, though.”

  He nods without an ounce of hesitation. “Anything.”

  “I lose all sense of reason whenever I’m around you. It’s like my brain is a lust-filled pile of mush. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it the right way.”

  He looks a little confused.

  “I need to enter into this relationship with a level head. And the only way I can do that is if we take it slow. Be…I don’t know, old-fashioned.”

  Ben’s eyebrows scrunch together adorably. “What’s old-fashioned?”

  “You’re going to take me on a date, and if I have a good time on that date, then you can ask me for another one.”

  “You…you want me to woo you?” Ben seems amused and…intrigued.

  “Yes,” I say shyly, even though I’m the one who brought up this whole thing.

  “Okay. I will absolutely woo you. Consider it done. Is that it?”

  “No.” I slide my hand across his pec, relishing in the feel of it one last time…for a while. “There’s another part, and you’re not going to like that other part.”

  “What part is that?”

  “The part where you’re going to woo me, and while you’re wooing me, we’re not going to have sex. You’re going to have to work for it.” Taking sex off of the table is crazy, but it’s the only way I know I can keep a level head here. I need to keep a level head for a little while.

  “Okay,” he says reluctantly. “On two conditions.”

  I’m interested. “What are those conditions?”

  “I’d like our first date to be this morning. I’ll take you to that diner down on Broadway that you like, and we’ll get pancakes and bacon, and two carafes of that orange juice.”

  I enthusiastically agree to that condition. “Done. What’s the other one?”

  With a sly grin, Ben’s hand slides down my belly, and between my thighs. He swipes his fingers along my slit, circling my clit with his thumb. It’s like a power button for my whole body. Every part of me wakes up. Without giving it much thought, acting purely on instinct, I buck my hips against his hand.

  “One more time. That’s my second c
ondition.”

  He’s giving me this intense look, like all he wants is to live in this moment just a little while longer, like everything in his world is hinging on my answer. I gently push him until he’s on his back, and I bring myself up on my knees, then straddle his hips. I grind down on him, making his back arch off the bed, his breath coming in short puffs. His hands reach up to cradle my breasts.

  I’m already loving this condition.

  “Okay,” I say. “One more time.” I scrape my fingernails across his abs, making his muscles flex and tighten. “But you better put your back into it.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  At a diner that’s not too far away from my apartment, Ben and I are sitting across from each other at a small circular table, a carafe of orange juice between us, and half-eaten stacks of pancakes on both of our plates.

  The fingers on my left hand are laced together with the fingers on his right, and we’re leaning toward each other like a couple of magnets, even while we’re eating. Ben reached out to take my hand when we first sat down, and we haven’t let go since. I was hesitant at first, but when he looked at me with those eyes that always manage to make me feel a little weak in the knees, I couldn’t help but oblige him.

  Ben runs the pad of his thumb over my knuckles, back and forth, and the sensation is endlessly soothing.

  “What do you have planned for the rest of the day?” he asks, as he reaches for his glass of juice.

  I close my eyes for a second, mentally running through all of the appointments that I know are filling up my calendar, even though it’s a weekend.

  “I have a conference call with a designer in Paris who wants to use my site to launch a new line. After that, I have a meeting with some developers who are hopefully going to get to work on some new features that I want to add to the navigation bar.”

  Ben squeezes my hand. “I can do that for you, you know. For free.”

  I’m not worried about the money, and the gesture is sweet, but I can’t take him up on his offer. It’s a bad idea on pretty much every level. Instead of flat-out turning him down, I decide to go with another argument first.

  “You’re a software engineer, not a web developer,” I say, as I slide the tines of my fork through a puddle of syrup, swiping it across my plate into what I think is a pretty elegant design. I need to do whatever I can to avoid the look in his eyes when he starts to convince me that I should let him do the work for me anyway.

  “I can do both,” he says.

  Yeah, I didn’t think that argument was going to work for me, but it was worth a try anyway. I take a deep breath, and give myself a moment to figure out a way to frame this argument that isn’t going to make him fight me against it more, and isn’t going to hurt his feelings.

  “I…I would prefer to keep my business life and my personal life separate.” I’ve got a great team of developers that I have a great relationship with, and I don’t want to chance burning those bridges just so I can start relying on Ben for something that will be taken away if things don’t work out between us this go ‘round. I’m hoping this short answer is enough, so I won’t have to explain myself.

  He nods reluctantly. “I get it. But if you ever need a quick fix and can’t get them on the phone for whatever reason, I’m always here for you.”

  I can’t help but smile at him. “I know.” I believe him now, whether or not I should.

  “So,” I say, because even though he relented, he still sounds disappointed, and I don’t like hearing that tone in his voice. Especially not when I’m the one who put it there. “This has been a pretty good date thus far.”

  He gives me a thoughtful look. “I’m not sure that I want this to be a first date.”

  I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”

  Ben shrugs. “Even though we had a ton of shitty memories from our previous…”

  “Tries?” I offer.

  “Okay, tries. Even though we had some bad memories from those, we had some really good ones. Memories that I don’t want wiped away just because we’re trying to start over.”

  Him admitting that gives me a warm feeling, and I can see where he’s coming from. It wasn’t all bad between us, we definitely had some good in there.

  “Okay.” I smile.

  “This is a good date though, no matter which number it is. I mean, I’m having a good time. I have you, I have pancakes. All I need.”

  He’s excellent at this wooing stuff.

  “I went all out for you, as you can see,” I say, motioning toward the mess that is my ensemble with an ironically elegant flourish. My hair is piled up on top of my head in the messiest bun imaginable, and I’m wearing an old pullover paired with yoga pants that have definitely seen better days. I don’t have any makeup on, but I do have the post-coital glow that only comes from orgasm after orgasm, so I’ve got that going for me, I guess.

  Ben untangles his fingers from mine, then reaches over and cups my cheek with his hand. “You’re beautiful, and this is all I need.”

  “You and me and breakfast food,” I tease, trying to cover up the way the soft touch of his hand makes me shiver. I place my hand over the back of his, then turn my head and kiss his palm.

  I know he’s told me that things are different now, and he’s shown me glimpses of it for sure, but this feels different. Old Ben would have showered me with expensive things, would’ve taken me to the hippest restaurant in town (and he could’ve this time, he’s the co-owner of one of them). This—the two of us, uncomplicated—was all I ever wanted.

  And now, here, I have it.

  I’m happy.

  “So, it’s been a while since we met, and I’m wondering if anything has changed.” With the way he’s grinning, I’m sure he’s playing with me, but I’m willing to play right back. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

  “Hmmm,” I say, tapping my finger against my chin. “Well, I’m twenty seven, and I like long walks on the beach, love the way the sand feels between my toes.” I do my best impression of a contestant on a cheesy dating game show, because Ben already knows all of the things about me that really matter. “I like watching the sun set over the city, and chocolate ice cream is my weakness.”

  Thoroughly amused, Ben leans forward, close enough so that only I can hear him. “I can think of a few things I’d like to do with that chocolate ice cream.”

  I give his arm a playful smack. “I told you not even two hours ago that if we’re going to do this that doing things with chocolate ice cream is strictly off-limits for the foreseeable future. You’re supposed to be wooing me.”

  “What, I can’t woo you with a list of ways I’d like to lick that ice cream off of your body?”

  Oh, imposing a no-sex rule on this is going to be the end of me, I can feel it.

  “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?” I’m basically opening the door for him to get dirty again, so this is a dangerous road for us to travel down if he’s not going to stay on message.

  “Let’s see…I’m twenty eight, and I still have my very first video game console. I’m remodeling my apartment, and learning to lay tile, because I figure it’s good to know how to do that kind of a thing. I always thought it was easy. It looked easy, at least. I took for granted that it would be a piece of cake for me, but now I’m realizing how easy it is to screw up. So, I’m learning.”

  It’s impossible for me to miss the double meaning there.

  Ben pulls my hand up to his lips, and presses a kiss against my fingers.

  We finish our meal, and after Ben pays the check, we walk out of the diner. Ben’s arm is around my shoulder, and mine is around his waist. He pulls me in close, presses a kiss against my temple. I smile, and turn to look across the street, where I’m almost certain that I see someone hidden in a car, with a telephoto lens pointed at us. It’s something that I’ve gotten used to since my parents’ scandal broke, and it’s not like I can do anything about it, so I just turn back into Ben’s embrace, and try to forget abo
ut the outside world for a while.

  * * *

  Ben and I separate two blocks away from my apartment, because I need to make a stop at a specialty store to pick up some ingredients that I’m going to use for some baking that I’m planning on doing later. He’s reluctant to go, but he’s supposed to meet Felicity later on this morning. Before we part, Ben pulls me behind a small pillar decorating the side of a building, giving us a little privacy from the foot traffic on the sidewalk.

  With one hand rooted to the concrete, and the other on my hip, he gives me a long, lingering goodbye kiss. His soft touches are electric, even just the feeling of his fingertips brushing across my cheeks. This is new, but it’s not. It’s familiar, but thrilling.

  I’m determined not to talk myself out of this feeling, though. I’m going to bask in it, and not worry about the other shoe dropping.

  As he walks away toward his awaiting car, he turns and looks at me every few steps, then gives up on that completely, walking backwards so he can keep his eyes on me. I laugh at him, and am wearing a smile so big that it actually hurts my face. Somehow, the goofy wave that he gives me when he gets into the car makes that smile even bigger.

  I feel like I’m floating all through the market, and when I return home with my purchases, I’m still riding high as I set my bag down to unlock my door.

  Then a chill washes over all that bliss when I see someone walk up behind me in the reflection of the glass panels on the door. I do my best not to acknowledge that I’ve even seen him, and instead reach into my cross-body bag to find my pepper spray.

  “You won’t need it,” says the man behind me. He follows that up with an incredibly creepy, “Miss Blake.”

  Because I don’t know what else to do right now, and because I stupidly decided to forego the security detail that my lawyer—Nancy—suggested that I hire, I try to scare him a little.