The Stillness Of You

by Julie Bale

  I still had the key that Matt had given me, though I played it cool. I knocked and waited. And then I knocked again but there was no answer.

  I shoved in the key and let myself in but the place looked deserted. It was quiet. It was empty.

  “Georgia?”

  No answer.

  Shit. I never thought she wouldn’t be here but then again I wasn’t really thinking, was I? Should I wait? I thought about it for a moment and then moved through the loft, heading down the hall toward the bedrooms. Her door was closed and I paused outside for moment feeling like some screwed up stalker guy who was on the verge of going crazy.

  I knocked again, “Georgia?”

  And then opened the door.

  Her room was dark, the blinds were drawn, but I saw her right away. She was curled up in a ball in the middle of her bed, her long dark hair spread out across her pillow, her hands fisted beneath her chin. She faced me and I could tell she was asleep.

  Shit. Was she sick?

  I crossed the room and stopped beside the bed, my hands itching to touch her. God, she looked like an angel. I don’t know how long I stood there staring down at her. I only knew that I didn’t want to be anywhere else. Not now. Not ever.

  I doffed my sandals and moved around the bed so that I could climb in behind her. Once there, I pulled her close and for the first time since she’d left my place I felt calm. I felt as if I was where I was supposed to be—as if I was with who I was supposed to be with.

  Summer drifted into my nostrils and I inhaled her scent, burying my nose in her hair because I couldn’t help myself. Her hair was damp as if she’d showered not too long ago and her skin was soft. So damn soft.

  She shifted, her sweet ass moving into my groin as if she was coming home and I groaned, already hard and wanting her.

  I tensed a bit when she mumbled something, afraid I’d wake her—afraid she’d freak out—but she settled into me and after a bit I relaxed. I don’t know if it was the gentle sounds she made as she slept or the warmth of her body, but I fell asleep and it was dark when I woke up.

  It took a few moments to focus. Georgia wasn’t asleep anymore. She’d turned in my arms and her expressive eyes were wide as she stared up at me.

  I cleared my throat and managed to speak. “Hey.” Not a great start but I couldn’t think of anything else to say. All I could think about was how amazing it felt to hold her again.

  She exhaled slowly, her finger tracing along my jaw in a way that had me hot and anxious before she reached my mouth.

  And then she leaned forward and kissed me.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Georgia

  I don’t know why or how Ben ended up in my bed and I didn’t care. I’d been holed up in Matt’s loft for the last three days feeling sorry for myself. Too stupid and too scared to call him back and apologize for freaking out and leaving him the way I did.

  Today had been awful. The worst. I tried not to think about Ben and his friends and a bunch of random girls at his place, mostly because I knew what those girls were like. I’d seen carbon copies of them in action and I knew exactly what they wanted. And I also knew that most of the time they got it. What guy was going to turn down sex with a Barbie doll?

  But Ben was here. In my bed. His body warm and hard and feeling so much like home that I ached.

  “Hey.” His voice was husky and coated in sleep.

  I traced his jaw, loving the shadow of stubble beneath my fingers and when he opened his mouth to say something else, I couldn’t help it. I needed him. I needed to feel him. To touch him. To taste him.

  I slid my lips against his and my heart rate shot up when he groaned and sank his hands into my hair. His mouth opened beneath mine, hot and wet and aggressive. He tasted like heaven and he felt so good that I let the sensations of need and want roll over me. I welcomed the familiar pangs of desire that erupted between my legs and sat low in my belly.

  My nipples were hard, my breasts ached, and when his tongue slid into my mouth—when he licked and suckled on my bottom lip as if he was starving—I lost it. I fell down into the chasm that was Ben Lancaster and I don’t think I cared if I ever made it back out.

  We kissed forever it seemed, as if we were feeding on each other’s soul and when we finally came up for air we were both breathing heavy.

  His hands were still tangled in my hair and Ben tilted my head back slightly, tracing a line of fire down my neck where he kissed me so tenderly it brought tears to my eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “You don’t have to apologize.” His hands now cupped my face and he moved so that we were nose to nose, his dark eyes intense as he stared at me. “I love you, Georgia. You don’t have to apologize. I was a dick. A fucking dick. I should have been more sensitive I mean, God, your parents and…I had no idea. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He traced my mouth with his thumb and I leaned into him. “I fucking love you.”

  Holy shit he said the L word!

  His breath was ragged. “I don’t know if that freaks you out more or if I should keep that shit to myself but I can’t fucking live without you. I can’t. I—”

  Something hard burst inside my chest. Something bright and hopeful. I silenced him again, my mouth on him as if he was my lifeline. I kissed him, worshipped him, and pushed him until he was forced to roll onto his back.

  Our tongues danced together, his hands in my hair, mine cupping his jaw to hold him in place because I could not break this connection. He was everything to me. He was my lover. My friend. My life.

  I broke the kiss because I had to explain this to him. I had to make sure he understood the depths of what I was feeling. Because I was so afraid. So afraid that once he knew the real me his feelings would change.

  I straddled his hips and shifted a bit, closing my eyes when he groaned. He wore a thin T-shirt and his black board shorts that he swam in. I felt his erection burn between my legs and I knew how affected he was. “Ben,” I said softly. “There’s so much you don’t know…about me and I—”

  “Do you love me?” He interrupted and sat up, settling his hands onto my hips.

  I couldn’t escape his eyes. And I couldn’t lie anymore.

  I nodded and barely whispered. “Yes.”

  “Say it.”

  “I. Love. You.” I said each word slowly, savoring them on my tongue. They were words I’d never said to anyone other than family. Never. Not once.

  “Good,” he said as a slow, wicked grin crept over his face. “That makes us even.” He paused. “Now take your top off.”

  The dynamics changed in an instant.

  “You first.”

  He yanked his shirt over his head and then did the same to mine. I wasn’t wearing a bra and his tongue flicked over my nipples, as his hands worked their way into my sleep shorts.

  “Fuck, you’re wet,” he growled against my chest as I leaned into him and gyrated my hips. His fingers were already there, inside me, stroking and setting off all kinds of chaotic things.

  “Only for you,” I whispered hoarsely, hissing as he hit that sweet spot, the pad of his long finger stroking me into an orgasm within seconds. That’s what Ben Lancaster did to me.

  I shuddered against him, moaning as he continued to suckle my breasts, pulling and tugging—each suck tearing through me and hitting me in that sweet spot all over again.

  I managed to get my shit together and stood up, which was a freaking miracle considering we were in the middle of my bed and my knees were so shaky I’m surprised I didn’t fall over the edge onto the floor.

  I stared down at him, at his hard, muscled, perfect body. At the delicious tattoo on his bicep, the defined abs, the thin line of hair beneath his navel that pointed toward the incredible bulge between his legs. His hair was an erotic mess, his eyes glittered and the sound he made—a half growl that had Tarzan written all over it—was just about enough to drive me over the edge.

  He was mine. This guy who was everything any girl
could ever want was mine and suddenly I didn’t care about anything else except him. I didn’t want to give him up.

  For a moment that thought stunned me. “I love you,” I said again in wonder.

  His wicked grin was enough to blow the pants off a goddamn Nun. “Then show me.”

  Game on.

  I took a moment, drawing it out until he was so tense the veins in the sides of his neck stood out. I rubbed my nipples, smiling when he groaned.

  “Peaches, you’re fucking killing me.”

  And then slowly made my way down to the waistband of my shorts. I nudged him with my toe, running it along his upper thigh before pressing my foot onto his erection. “You first.”

  I moved my foot, biting my bottom lip when he shifted, his eyes never leaving mine, as he slipped out of his shorts. He moved a bit so that his back rested against the headboard and all six foot four inches of his delicious, hard and naked body was there for me.

  Carefully I slid off my shorts until I stood, naked, my legs open so he could see how aroused I was.

  He didn’t take his eyes off my crotch, though he beckoned me closer and when I spread my legs so that I stood over him, he grabbed my hips and brought me to his mouth. I think I might have screamed when he kissed me, right there where I ached for him.

  I know I did when he suckled and stroked and licked his way over every inch of me and then did it again. And again.

  I was a mess when he was done and if not for his hands on my hips, I would have fallen. “This is mine,” he said against my thigh, and god help but I ate that macho shit up. Yes. You can have it. All of it. Whenever the hell you want it.

  Slowly I slid down his body, our eyes meeting. Locking.

  And when I positioned myself and sank onto him we both groaned because it felt that good.

  For a moment neither one of us moved. We stared into each other’s eyes, our bodies connected, our hearts connected on a level that I’d never felt before with anyone. This was the real deal. This was love.

  This is love, I thought.

  “Shit,” he whispered hoarsely. “You feel good…so good.”

  I moved up on him and slowly slid back down. “Uh huh.”

  He froze for a second. “Georgia, we didn’t…ahhh.”

  I gyrated my hips and began to pump slowly but his hands stopped me. “Georgia we didn’t use anything. I’m clean but…”

  I kissed Ben, silencing his words as I continued to slowly fuck my boyfriend with every ounce of finesse that I’d ever acquired. When I dragged myself up for air I leaned against him. “It’s okay. I’m on the pill and I, well I’ve never had an STD or anything.”

  “Sweet fucking Jesus, you’ve just made me the happiest guy on the planet because, Peaches, you feel incredible. This is a whole new level of hotness.”

  I held his face between my hands and stared into his eyes. “I’ve never had sex without a condom. Ever. I’ve never let a guy…”

  He ate the rest of my words with the most amazing, toe curling kiss and I began to move again, slowly at first and then as our needs increased—as his breathing hitched and his heart pounded against the palm of my hands—my tempo matched. There were no more words. There were only emotions. Raw and true. There were eyes drinking each other in. Hands caressing and touching. There was desperation, ecstasy and release.

  And for that one perfect moment in time I believed that maybe all of those things would be enough. This connection. This new love that we’d found together.

  I had to believe it was enough because the alternative sucked.

  Afterward Ben pulled me into his arms and we laid together so close that I swear he could breathe for me. And eventually, when my heart slowed down enough, when my mind emptied, when I was brave enough…

  I began to tell him about my parents.

  I told him what it was like living with a mother who was unstable and a father who slowly left us for a new love, a Russian bitch named vodka.

  I told him about my mother’s weird love of knives and how she would threaten me and Matt when she was having a bad day. I told him about the water park I never got to visit, and how on my thirteenth birthday she left me and my friends to go get my cake from the bakery but didn’t come back.

  I told him how Matt lived and breathed hockey—it was his escape—but I was the one left behind. The one who looked after mom when she’d been in bed for days without showering or eating.

  I told him that she’d driven off a bridge and killed herself and my dad. I told him every single dark secret about my family, but I didn’t tell him mine. I couldn’t.

  Ben held me. He showered me with his love, his heat and his goodness. I felt safe. I felt loved.

  I let his warmth wash away the sins of my parents and swore that I would tell him the rest soon. I would tell him about my illness. I would tell him about the little pills I needed to take in order to function properly.

  I would tell him that I wasn’t perfect. That I was damaged. I would tell him that for the first time since my diagnosis I felt hope.

  I just needed to gather a little more courage and then I could say the word, the one I hated to say. The one that labeled me.

  Bi-polar.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ben

  My sister Eden thinks that I have horseshoes coming out of my ass. Mostly because I’ve pretty much excelled at everything I’ve ever tried. Hockey. Baseball. Guitar. Math. I was that guy. The one who aced all his classes, was captain of whatever team he played on and got whatever girl he wanted.

  I never thought about it much because it was just the way things were. I was used to winning and I was used to getting what I wanted.

  And what I wanted right now was Georgia King. But I didn’t want her for today or tomorrow or even next month. I wanted her for forever.

  I was no longer horseshoe guy. I was that other guy. The one who would do anything for a girl. Hell, if Georgia asked me to shave my head or tattoo her fucking name on my body, I would. And everyone knows getting a name tattooed onto your skin was a bad idea.

  But for her I would do it. For her I would wear pink with purple polka dots if it would give me the smile that I was looking at right now. For Georgia, I would do anything.

  I’d taken her out for dinner and now it was time for her surprise.

  “Happy birthday,” I said and then bent down to claim the mouth that had been driving me crazy all day.

  A few wolf whistles rang out in the club but I didn’t care. Hell, I liked that fact that everyone could see she was with me. That she was mine. My girl.

  When we touched the heat was unmistakable. It was intense and if not for the fact that we were in the middle of the crowded VIP lounge in Club NV, I would have had her out of the sexy black dress she wore and flat on her back.

  I finally managed to drag my mouth from hers, though I kept my hands on her waist, kept her close and intimate.

  Her hair fell over her bare shoulders just the way I liked, a little wild and a little messy. Her cheeks were flush, her lips swollen from mine, and her eyes—her eyes were fixed behind me and they wrong.

  Wait. What the fuck was wrong?

  “Hey,” I said carefully. “Is everything alright? I wanted to surprise you for your birthday and Kendall said that this band was one of your favorites.”

  Had I screwed this all up?

  Her eyes were on the stage downstairs. The band hadn’t taken the stage yet because the band was part of her surprise. Spleen. I’d never heard of them but I’d managed to get hold of her girlfriend and she’d said they were local and that they were one of Georgia’s favorites.

  I’d made a few phone calls and turns out, the owner of the club was a huge Flyer fan. He booked Spleen for me and I thought they would keep that smile on Georgia’s face all night long.

  Her brows furrowed and she chewed on her bottom lip which I knew meant she was either nervous or pissed.

  “Hey,” I said more than a little alarmed. “We can leave. I j
ust…I thought this would be good for you tonight. For your birthday.” Obviously not. Why the hell had I listened to her friend?

  I glanced over to Kendall and gave her a mental fuck you. She’d met us at the club and had brought a bunch of people I didn’t know. I didn’t give a shit about any of them but I thought that Georgia did and that was the point of everything. It was her 21st birthday and I wanted it to be special.

  “It’s okay,” she said finally. “Thank you.”

  But it wasn’t okay and I had no idea what was wrong.

  The house lights dimmed, the crowd below and behind us erupted into cheers and the unmistakable crunch of a guitar spilled across the club.

  We looked down at the stage and I watched five guys take over. None of them wore shirts, all of them were tattooed and pierced and the guitar player….

  My eyes narrowed. Fuck. It was the guy from the country club. The guy Georgia said she’d dated. The guy she said didn’t matter but from the rigid set of her shoulders, I called bullshit.

  The guy grinned up at us and let a long, lingering chord ring out as he grabbed the mic from his singer. He saluted Georgia and everyone below turned to see who he was looking at.

  “Happy Birthday to the hottest girl I know. I don’t know how we can top last year babe, but I’m sure as hell gonna try.”

  He threw the mic back at his singer and the band dove into a hard rocking, full throttle song about drinking and drugging and sexing. It was heavy and usually I liked that sorta shit, but not tonight. Not with that guy down there looking at my girl as if he wanted her.

  As if he’d had her.

  Red hot jealousy shot through me and the need to go all cave man and drag her out of the club was strong. I wanted to tell guitar guy to keep his eyes off Georgia. I wanted to tell him that if he dared to mental fuck my girlfriend in front me I was going to kick his ass and break him. My fists clenched at the thought.