by Julie Bale
My mouth was dry and I briefly thought that maybe I should have popped a breath mint, but there was no time because the thought had barely formed when Ben turned, his arms on either side of me, caging me against the wall.
Holy fuck and mother of Christ, but he looked hot.
His hair waved around the collar of his white button down shirt and it was all I could do not to bury my hands in the thick mess and bring his mouth down to mine. His dark chocolate eyes were hooded, and that amazing mouth of his was open, his breaths almost labored as he stared down at me.
For the longest time it seemed we just stared at each other and I jumped when he trailed a finger along my jaw and then slowly traced the shape of my mouth. He wore cologne, a subtle earthy scent that was just right.
And did I say how hot he looked?
I leaned my cheek into the palm of his hand and thought that right now, in this moment, my life was changing. Something was happening and whether it was going to be good or complicated or bad I didn’t know, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to let any of that stop me.
Since my release from Oak Run I’d felt half alive, as if there was something missing. I knew it was the crazy part and I also knew that it was for the best, but still, there were times when I missed the highs, though the lows…not so much.
And sadly, I’d given up hope that I could ever feel this way again. Excited. Terrified. Horny. Sexy. I thought that maybe the drugs I needed to control my condition coated everything in a dull, ordinary palette. It’s why I hadn’t been able to paint anything interesting. And for someone like me, a young woman still on the cusp of discovery, that was a shitty thought.
But now…now Ben was here and I was alive again.
“You’re driving me crazy, you know that right?” Ben whispered hoarsely.
“Sorry.”
His finger continued to tease, slowly moving back and forth across my bottom lip. “Don’t say you’re sorry.” His voice was husky. “Show me you’re sorry.”
He dipped his head and nuzzled my neck causing all sorts of electric shocks to go off inside me. God, it felt like I was coming apart and the throb between my legs was intense. So intense that I began to slowly move my hips against him, whimpering and moaning at the feel of him.
His mouth found mine, his lips firm as he opened over me. He slowly leaned into me as we kissed. And holy shit what a kiss. I tasted beer and mint and Ben. It was a heady combination and every time his tongue slid inside my mouth, some new part of me liquefied. He suckled on my bottom lip and I could do nothing but gaze up into his eyes, little sounds of need burgeoning from the back of my throat.
He pulled away, his breathing rough. “I fucking love that.”
“What?” I managed.
“That noise you make. It’s driving me insane.”
God, I thought, I’m already there.
Ben leaned back a bit, his gaze moving down my body, a slow, sensual perusal that had my nipples standing erect and shouting hello before he even got there. As if reading my mind he bent forward, and then his hot mouth closed over my nipple, the heat penetrating through the fabric of my dress instantly and I sagged into him.
“Oh, Ben.” I whimpered.
My hands fell to his shoulders for support and when he cupped my butt and pulled me against his erection I might have screamed. Or moaned. God I hope I moaned because a scream was a little much. But there you have it. That’s how worked up I was.
His hands were slowly inching my skirt up and then I felt his open palm on my butt cheek gently coaxing me up. I let him. I let him lift me and I wrapped my legs around his waist as if he was my savior. By this time my dress sat above my hips and he had full access to everything below it.
And boy did he let his hands wander. They slid over my hips and caressed my cheeks, sending little sparks of desire along my skin.
His mouth caught mine again, our lips meshing with need... urgent, hot need. I wanted him so badly that all coherent thought fled. And as his hands slowly kneaded the small of my back and made their way down to my ass, every touch of his fingers and stroke of his tongue had me in flames.
His mouth. His hands. The combination was nearly more than I could take.
We kissed for so long that my head spun and when his mouth finally left mine, I shuddered against him because he immediately sought out the small dip in my neck. We stumbled back into the wall and his hands became more urgent, his large palms full of me as he grinded his erection into my crotch.
“I can’t wait anymore,” he rasped against my neck, before kissing me once more, a quick slide of lips and tongue. “I need to see you.”
He held me, my head nestled into the crook of his shoulder, as he slowly made his way down the hall to my bedroom.
Once inside I slid down the length of him, though my arms clung to his neck and I refused to move away from his heat.
For a long time, Ben held me there his forehead against mine, the two of us breathing erratically and our hearts beating fast.
His hand caressed the side of my face and he moved my hair behind my shoulder, tracing my skin there with soft, butterfly kisses.
“You’re beautiful.”
“So are you,” I answered.
His hands slid down to the small of my back as his mouth made its way back to mine. I opened for him and this time the kiss was deep. It was about touch and thrust and taste.
Holy shit, but he was a good kisser. I could have spent minutes, hours, just kissing him. Tasting him and feeling him. But Ben had other ideas and as his hands gently tugged my dress higher (it was still bunched around my waist) I leaned back and held up my arms so he could lift it over my head.
Dilated pupils stared back at me. “Holy fuck, Georgia, I knew it.”
“Knew what?” I said breathlessly.
He nodded and stepped away, running his hands over the stubble that shadowed his jaw. “I knew that when I got you half naked wearing those shoes, it would do me in.”
Something powerful stirred inside me, something hot and delicious. “I’m not taking them off.”
“Good.” He said with a devilish grin. “But you should ditch the bra.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I might consider it but you’ll have to take your shirt off first.” I glanced down at myself. “I’m feeling a little underdressed.”
He was unbuttoning his shirt before I finished talking.
Chapter Eleven
Ben
If you had told me that I was going to be a nut job over a girl last week, I would have laughed and told you that you were fucking crazy. I’m young. Barely twenty-four. I play hockey in the National Hockey League and in the last few years I’d seen and had more women, than my mother ever needed to know about.
Up until a few days ago I wasn’t looking for a relationship and I sure as hell wasn’t looking to hook up with Matt King’s sister. Shit, just the thought of the R word, relationship, should have freaked me the hell out because relationships changed a guy. Case in point? Jim Boone, my right winger in LA. He got all goofy over an actress he’d met last summer, started spouting the L word and he even let her convince him to cut off his signature hockey hair. The dude kept it long—it was his thing—but after she entered the picture it was one of the first things to go.
His hair and then his balls. She said jump and he fucking did. He was so into her that after hockey she was pretty much it, and I used to ride him for it big time—we all did. We called him ‘ball-less Boone’.
A week ago all I cared about was finding a place in Philly, getting acquainted with the team and having some fun. Getting laid. Partying a bit until it was time to crack the whip and start training for the coming season.
I’d reached my goal of playing for my dream team and was getting paid a shitload of money to do it. Life was good. It was summer and I was ready to kick it and have a good time. A week ago that stuff mattered to me.
But not anymore. Of course hockey was still number one, but now there was Georgia
. Now it could be so much better.
The difference between last week and right now was staring at me…a five foot five slice of heaven in the sexiest come-fuck-me shoes I had ever seen.
She was every guy’s wet dream. The girl with a killer bod, hair you wanted to bury your hands in and eyes that didn’t quit.
But aside from all that, she was special. She was smart, funny, and kinda deep—I loved the way her nose wrinkled when she was thinking about something. She liked to argue and I was cool with that because it was almost like foreplay. She was one of a kind.
And I was nervous as fuck standing here in front of her.
Watching Georgia, watch me.
“Are you going to take that shirt off?”
I tossed it onto the floor in less than two seconds. I could tell that she liked what she saw—I was grateful for the shitload of crunches and bench presses I’d done—and if I didn’t think I’d look like an asshole I’d flex, just to see her eyes widen and watch that hot pink tongue slip over her bottom lip.
But that might have been over-doing it.
“Okay,” I said watching her closely. “We’re even.”
“No,” she answered shaking her head. “We’re not.”
I didn’t answer. I took a few seconds to take in every detail because I swear in this moment, this picture frame that she presented, was one I’d keep for myself when I was travelling on the road in the fall. This picture was pretty damn perfect and it was just for me.
She wasn’t stacked the way a lot of girls I’d come into contact with were, but her breasts were real and the bra she wore did a damn good job of showing them off. And hell, if I wasn’t a fan of those little, boy thing panties she liked to wear, I was now.
She was toned—I could tell that she worked out, but there were curves where there were supposed to be curves. I knew Georgia didn’t survive on a diet of green lettuce and water. I liked that. There was nothing worse than being with a girl in a restaurant, getting ready to dig into prime rib and watching her pick at a plate full of greens.
Not Georgia. She was real.
She licked her lips and the tent pole in my pants strained even more. That was real too—painfully real.
She leaned back, her shoulders flush to the wall her legs spread just enough to get my blood boiling even more than it already was.
“The jeans, Mr. Lancaster.”
I couldn’t smile even if I wanted to. Hell, my teeth were ground together so tightly that if I wasn’t careful I’d get lockjaw.
I reached for my belt, my eyes on her as she splayed her hands onto the wall, her fingers spread out like a web with their red tipped nails. Her underwear was a light color, almost nude, and I saw the tops of her nipples peeking over. Hot. Fucking hot.
I started to tug on the belt. Shit.
With an irritated ‘fuck,’ I bent over and unlaced my boots, kicking them to the side once I had them off and my jeans followed suit. All I had on were my boxers.
“Now, we’re even.” I dinged her with a look that said I was done playing games. “Off with the bra.”
She pushed off from the wall and took two steps forward. “You take it off.”
I was there in front of her before she could blink and she leaned into me, sighing when our skin touched. My hands snaked behind her back, sliding up her spine and for a moment I just held her. She fit perfectly against me and if I could have stayed like that forever I would have.
But I wanted more. I wanted a hell of a lot more. I’d been thinking about it all day—what it would feel like to hold her, to taste her, to look in her eyes when I was inside her. To rock into her over and over again and listen to her whimper because I was making her come.
Carefully I reached for her bra and it was like I was fourteen again—I was all thumbs. A deep breath or two helped things along and when I felt that little piece of fabric give, I think I stopped breathing.
Slowly I slid the little straps over her shoulders, my eyes on hers as she looked up at me and watched.
It fell to the floor at our feet and though she was bared to me, I couldn’t take my eyes off of hers—they were liquid pools that I could drown in.
We stared at each other for a long time, as if we were already locked together. As if I was already inside her. She swallowed and the expression in her eyes changed. Her lids fluttered and she squeezed them shut and—wait, was that a tear?
“You’re so perfect,” she whispered so softly that I barely heard.
What the fuck? Suddenly concerned my hands slid across her jaw and I tipped her head up. “Hey, are you okay?”
She nodded but didn’t say anything and her eyes remained closed as her body began to tremble. She sank against me—we were skin on skin and it was all I thought it would be. She was soft, so fucking soft…and the smell of summer was everywhere but something was wrong.
I swallowed and blew out a long, breath. I took a moment before I attempted to speak because I thought that if I didn’t get this right, I might blow everything , whatever the hell it was with this girl. This meant something to me.
I kissed her temple and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight so that I could absorb everything. Every shudder, and tremble, and breath. It was all mine.
After a while I realized she was crying and I felt like the biggest shit on the planet. I didn’t understand what was happening—what I’d said or did—but I knew I needed to fix this.
“Hey,” I said softly, running my hands over her shoulders and down her spine. “We don’t have to do this. We can wait. I don’t…” God, what the fuck? “I don’t want to pressure you or anything. I thought…I thought you wanted this but…” Shit, was I even making any sense?
“I want to,” she mumbled into my neck. Her voice sounded so small and uncertain that something broke apart inside me. Such a feeling…or a need to protect filled me that for a moment I was speechless.
“I wanted to,” she repeated. “But I want to do this right and there’s so much you don’t know about me and if you did you’d probably run the other way because I would…if I was you. And…” she shuddered again. “I’m not making any sense am I?”
She pulled away, enough so that I could look into her eyes again. Thank the fuck that they were open.
I needed to make her understand.
“Georgia, don’t worry. We can take this slow. This isn’t just about sex, although I gotta tell you, you’re killing me here.”
A heartbeat passed. Did I just say that? Holy hell if Rossi from the team had heard that come out of my mouth he would have pounded me for sure. I was the no commitment guy.
“I want this to matter.” I hoped like hell I hadn’t blown things.
She was nodding and whispered, “Okay,” but I knew it wasn’t—there was something in her eyes that tore at me. And even though my hard on was going to be a bitch to deal with, Georgia mattered a hell of a lot more than the state of my dick.
“Okay.” I rested my head on top of hers as I tried to take control of my body. “We’ll take this slow.”
For a moment there was silence. “Thank you.”
Those two little words punched me in the gut something fierce. I hugged her and then picked her up, my mouth seeking hers as I headed for the bed. Once there, I managed to tug the comforter back and after she slid inside, I followed her in.
She fit right into me like we’d been sleeping together forever and I cuddled her close, inhaling her essence, keeping it as mine. I moved her hair from the back of her neck and trailed a line of kiss up to her ear until she was trembling again.
And then I smiled. “I’m sleeping here with you tonight, no negotiation on that.”
She nodded, but didn’t answer.
“And when Matt comes home on Monday—”
“He’ll be home tomorrow,” she whispered, her arms sliding along my forearm and curling around, holding me in return.
“Good, because as soon as I see him I’m going to tell Matt that we’re seeing each ot
her and if he doesn’t like it, fuck him. I’m not hiding the way I feel. I can’t be the guy who does that. I want you.”
A thought occurred to me and I didn’t like the way it made me feel. “You do feel the same way, don’t you? Tell me that this isn’t all me, Georgia. This crazy fucking explosion I feel inside.”
There was silence, and then…
“No,” she said softly. “It’s not just you.”
I groaned and kissed her shoulder, loving how she shuddered against me. “I want to learn all your deepest and darkest secrets.” I was teasing but her fingers stopped stroking my arm and she stiffened.
“What if my secrets are things you can’t deal with?”
I frowned though I tried to keep my tone light. “Have you murdered anyone?”
“Not that I know of.”
A heartbeat passed.
“Then we’re good.”
***
I woke up with a stiff neck and an arm that was on fire. Georgia was still sleeping and gingerly I pulled my arm free, the ache in my gut still there as I stared down at perfection. It was late, we’d missed our run, and the sun was coming in her window causing a kind of halo to dance around her.
She was still on her side and I took a few seconds to appreciate what it was that laid there. So much creamy skin, all soft and curvy. I wanted to trace the indent of her waist and run my fingers across her hips and over her ass but I was afraid to wake her.
Don’t get me wrong—I wanted to wake her—I wanted her to wake up with me buried deep inside her but it was going to have to wait. After last night I knew I needed to take it slow with this girl.
Aside from the fact that my dick didn’t seem to understand that notion, I was fine with it. In fact, I was looking forward to spending as much time with Georgia as I could. I wanted to know what made her tick. I wanted to know what she was afraid of…what her dreams and goals were.
I wasn’t bullshitting. I wanted to know her secrets.
But she was right. We barely knew each other and if this was going to be something other than just a hook up, a relationship for fuck sakes, I needed to get it right.