by L. J. Fine
“I didn’t—” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “I didn’t handle that so well.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Actually, none of us really did well with it. I was just the most self-destructive. It’s probably a pretty typical story. I kind of ghosted on my dad and brothers. Fell into the wrong crowd, started getting high and drinking. Got arrested a couple times as a teenager for stupid shit, like destruction of property.” He looked at her then. “So if you were curious as to how I got my reputation, that’s it.”
Emma could feel her brow furrow. “But this was all stuff that happened when you were a kid, right? Because you look like you’ve turned yourself around from where I’m sitting.”
He grunted. “Yeah. Adam had a lot to do with that. And this is a small town, Emma. Small towns have long memories.”
Choosing to ignore that last part, she asked him something she had been curious about since they had met. No telling when he would next be in such a talkative mood. “Tell me about Adam.”
Those whisky-colored eyes darkened as they narrowed on her and she laughed. “I’m talking about your brothers in general. Your relationship with them. I mean, I know you in the biblical sense, but I don’t really know you.” Her voice softened as she tilted her head to rest against the seat to look at him. “I’d like to.”
Something changed in his expression then. There was a warmth she couldn’t quite define. It was coupled with a vulnerability and yearning that she found heartbreaking. As though no one had ever expressed an interest in him as a person before. But just as she was starting to get lost in that warmth, he once again looked away to keep picking at his fingers.
“My brothers are jackasses and I tell them so every day.” The corner of his mouth twitched and she could tell that he thought of them fondly as jackasses.
“Oh, tough love then, huh?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I wouldn’t trade those assholes for the world.” He shifted in his seat to turn toward her as his expression sobered. “After my mom bailed, my dad was in a real bad way, emotionally. He didn’t want to be left to raise four boys on his own, but he did the best he could. Still, Brandon pretty much raised us when it got to be too much for Dad. The experience brought the guys together, made them a tighter knit family but…” He shook his head. “I just didn’t want to deal with it so I pulled away. In my teens I was barely ever home and when I was, I didn’t stick around for very long. They tried to keep tabs on me, especially Adam, but I wasn’t interested so I became good at avoidance.”
Already Emma had noticed, not quite a rift between Ben and his brothers, but a divide, as though he didn’t quite belong. She had suspected that it wasn’t due to a lack of effort on their part, but more of a choice on Ben’s. Now that these suspicions had been confirmed, she once again felt her heart expanding for him that he had ever wanted to make that choice. She couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without her brother. Empty in all the ways that counted, most likely.
“Adam, though.” He shook his head again with a rueful tilt to his lips. “Man, say what you want about him, but that boy just doesn’t give up.”
“I don’t blame him,” she said with more intensity than she had meant to. But… “I would never give up on my brother.”
Ben gave her a long, assessing look. “Then you and my twin have a lot in common.” When he kept staring at her as if he were trying to see inside her skin, she started to fidget.
Thankfully, he took pity on her and continued to speak. “A few years ago, I hit bottom and was at my breaking point. Adam was the one who pulled me out of it, got me back on the straight and narrow.” His eyes took on a distant quality as he gazed out the window. “He’s always been my support system and up until that point, I’d taken him for granted. I’d finally seen how wrong that was, what I was putting my brothers through, so I got done with it. I wanted to be someone that they could depend on. Be the reliable one and for once in my life be able to say that the people I love can count on me.”
She ducked her head to catch his eyes. “I can see that you’ve done that,” she said softly. “I don’t give a shit what anyone else says. You work way too hard for anything less.”
And she’d seen that first hand in the way he had been helping her. Most guys probably would have taken Chloe’s challenge and used it to get some no-strings sex. Ben had not only given her enough raw material to draw from to spice up her writing well into her old age, but he had taken an genuine interest in her story, her characters. She had gotten some great ideas from him and they weren’t all limited to the erotic parts of her story. Then she thought of something else.
“Hell, even people you don’t love can count on you.” When he shook his head in confusion she explained. “That drummer that keeps flaking out on the house band at Able’s. He owes you, seriously.”
That earned her an actual laugh and she thought it was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.
“Yeah, he’s a lazy ass. But I actually kinda like it when he’s not there. He’s pretty terrible.”
Emma laughed. “Well, then you’re a vast improvement because you’re pretty amazing.”
The grin lingered on his face even as he rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just trying to inflate my ego.”
“Hey,” she held up her hands, “I just call it as I see it.”
An enormous eighteen wheeler passed Ben’s truck as they sat there smiling at each other, making enough noise to remind Emma of where they were. “Do you wanna come inside for a while? Might be more comfortable.”
The invitation wasn’t really a come on, she was enjoying their conversation, but if he took it that way? That was fine by her. Just as long as she got to stay with him for a little while longer.
His expression gave nothing away as he said, “Yeah, I do.”
Emma couldn’t stop the satisfied smile that spread her lips as she climbed out of the truck.
In her mad dash to get ready for the fight at Chloe’s urging earlier that night, she had tossed out the contents of her purse onto her bed to grab the essentials to switch purses. She had forgotten about the mess she had made until she unlocked the door to her room and flipped on the light.
Cursing herself for not thinking ahead, she muttered an apology for the mess, then went to tidy up. While she was shoving papers, receipts and empty gum wrappers back into her main purse, Ben slowly shut the door behind him. He sauntered up to the end of the bed and bent down to pick up something from the floor. Figuring it was probably an old receipt or something that had fallen off the bed, Emma didn’t pay much attention.
That was until she saw his eyebrow quirk and the cutest half-smile tilt his lips.
She got lost for a few seconds staring at him until his eyes flashed up to hers, the amusement in them plain. That was when she realized what exactly it was that he was holding. It was the list of erotic novels that Jessica had recommended she read. She had never actually gotten around to reading them, but some of those titles were blatant advertisements for the types of books they were.
“Doing a little light reading, Sugar?”
Snatching the piece of paper out of his hand when he offered it, she felt her face heat to ten shades of red. Really, she didn’t know why she was so embarrassed. Together, they had more than likely done half of the things mentioned in those books. But there it was. Her old modesty rearing its ugly head.
“It’s a list of books my writing mentor gave me.” She held his gaze for about two seconds before she had to look away and pretend to keep fussing with her purse. “You know, for, um, research purposes.”
He laughed, the sound low and seductive and given freely, with more ease than he had previously shown up to this point. “I still can’t believe a sexy woman like you has problems finding a man who wouldn’t bend over backwards to please you.”
As her face flushed yet again from his compliments, she felt her heart begin to beat erratically. “Well, part of the problem is that I’m extremely picky.” She cleared
her throat and shoved her now-full purse onto the floor by the bed. “I had a certain type of man I wanted and wouldn’t settle for anything different.”
A dark eyebrow lifted and he crowded her space. “Am I that type of man?”
Looking up at him through her lashes, she bit her lip then slowly pulled it free. He tracked the movement with hungry eyes. “No, actually. You aren’t. But, I’m starting to realize that the type of man I wanted?” She dropped her gaze to his mouth. “Yeah, I don’t want that at all anymore.”
“Mmm,” he rumbled, coming closer still, until they were a breath apart. “What do you want now?”
“Right now?” she whispered. With hooded eyes, he nodded. “Right now all I want is you.”
“Good answer.” Then his lips were on hers in a soft but heated kiss. Gently he cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head where he wanted her. His tongue flicked and stroked against hers in such a way that was starting to make her lightheaded. And when she moved closer to rub up against his hard body, he groaned into her mouth. The sound vibrated past his lips to settle deep inside her.
But then he lifted his head to stare down at her with hooded eyes. Thankfully, he didn’t put any space between them. If he had done that, she wouldn’t have handled it so well. As it was, she fisted her hands in the soft material of his t-shirt at his sides to keep him right where he was.
“Something I’ve been wondering.” His voice came out low and husky, the sound so good she didn’t care what else he said, just as long as he kept talking. “All this time, I’ve been thinking of ways to give you, what I hope, are new experiences. But,” he kissed her lips softly, “what I want to know is,” he moved to kiss the sensitive spot just below her ear, “when you lie in that big bed and touch yourself, what do you think about when you close your eyes?”
Oh wow. No one had ever bothered to ask her that before. It wasn’t even something that she thought overly hard on. She didn’t typically linger or have slow, exploratory sessions with herself. Normally, it was just about scratching an itch and it ended quickly, which she knew was part of her problem.
Her fantasies had been more about finding that Mr. Perfect and how well they would fit together in just about every aspect of her life. But she didn’t dwell on what their chemistry would be like in the bedroom. It was always a given that it would be good, but she only pictured it in vague imagery because she really didn’t have much to base it on. That part hadn’t been as important to her as all the rest.
Since she met Ben, however, that had started to change. Her fantasies had become baser, with more substance and weight to them. Maybe part of it was that she had never been as sexually attracted to anyone else as she was to Ben. Every time she saw him, some new desire dominated her thoughts. She would focus on one aspect of him, like his mouth and how incredible he tasted. Or his big, rough hands and the delicious sensation of them running over her body or holding her in place while he took what he wanted. Or the wicked V-lines of his oblique muscles bringing back in vivid detail the way it felt when he steadily rolled his hips into her when he fucked her. She could stare at him for hours and never run out of ideas. The man was truly a muse.
But now he was asking her to articulate how far deep into the gutter her mind went when she saw him and suddenly she was feeling shy.
Unfortunately, he could tell.
“I know you have fantasies, Emma. Everybody does.” He tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “I wanna know what they are.”
“If everybody has them, then what are yours?” Her voice sounded shaky and breathless even to her own ears.
“Uh, uh.” He nipped at her throat before smiling against her skin. “This isn’t about me and I asked you first.”
Was he teasing her? Up until this point, she hadn’t even been aware he had a playful side. Despite how he was putting her on the spot, she couldn’t deny that she liked seeing this new, relaxed version of Ben. So she decided to throw him a bone and try to tell him what he wanted to know.
“For a writer, I have to admit that my fantasies weren’t that creative. But now—” She gasped when his teeth grazed her neck. “I’m finding that I have preferences.”
“Like what?” His hands slid down her body to play with the hem of her shirt, fingers dipping down to rim the waistband of her black leggings.
“Like what you’re doing right now. I love the way you touch me. Like you own me and have every right in the world to do whatever you want with me. I love the way you take me over and control our pleasure.” She ran her lips along his jaw, pausing when she reached his mouth to whisper, “You’re so good at it.”
“So basically,” he said buzzing his lips against hers, “your fantasies are whatever I want to do to you?”
No one could ever accuse him of being a dull observer. She smiled. “Yes, exactly.”
“Mmm,” he rumbled. “Then what if I told you that what I want is to watch you?”
She felt her brow furrow in confusion. “Watch me?” She had her suspicions that she knew exactly what he was talking about, but she prayed he actually meant something else.
“Yeah,” he said backing away with a mischievous tug to his lips that hadn’t been there before. The unmistakable heat in his eyes, though, that she recognized.
Damn, when he looked at her like that his resemblance to Satan was frightening. Hooking a finger into her waistband, he tugged until he pulled her into the middle of the room and he stood in front of the chair. He stopped backing up but he didn’t stop pulling on her until she was pressed up against his body once more.
One of his hands cupped her jaw as he softly kissed her lips. “You have no idea how fucking sexy you look when you come, Sugar.” This time, when he kissed her, his tongue licked into her mouth with greedy possession before he pulled back to whisper, “Or how beautiful you are.”
The soft, reverent tone in his words had her opening her eyes to see if his expression matched. The tender yearning she saw reflected back at her was suffused with blatant, avaricious lust and it took her breath away. Never had she been on the receiving end of such a look before. So intense, so raw. In that moment she felt more desired, more coveted, than she could ever recall feeling in the whole of her life. And then he continued to speak.
“I wanna sit right here in this chair and watch you strip for me.” His hands were roaming her body as he spoke, coming down to cup her ass and pull her closer. The hard ridge of his erection pressed into her belly and she couldn’t resist rocking into him.
What he was describing sounded mortifying, but the more he spoke, the more convincing he got. That full mouth dropped to her ear and that deep, rumbling voice had her pussy clenching. “Then I want you to get on the bed, spread yourself open for me, and touch yourself ’til you come.” His hands resumed their exploration of her body and soon he was cupping her breasts, rolling her nipples through the fabric of her shirt and lacey bra.
“I wanna see these nipples get hard and your creamy skin flush red.” She whimpered when he pinched the aching tips of her breasts and her lower body rubbed against his, seeking friction. “I wanna watch your juices run down your legs while you rub that clit and finger-fuck your tight little pussy. Just for me.”
He pulled back to pierce her with his gaze. “And I want your eyes open and on me the entire time.”
She swallowed. Hard. “You really have been thinking about this, haven’t you?” He had explained what he wanted from her with far too much detail for him to have just come up with it on a whim.
That devilish smile reappeared as he nodded and she really did worry that she might swoon at any second. In a way, it was probably a good thing he didn’t smile all that often. Because when he did it was mind-bendingly sexy. “I’ve been thinking about it since the first time I made you come. The fantasy keeps me up at night, Sugar. I need it to be a reality.”
God, the knowledge that he had actual fantasies about her was heady. Knowing that he wanted her this badly made what she was about
to do for him so much easier.
Standing on her tiptoes, she brushed his lips with hers and whispered, “Okay,” before she pushed him down into the chair.
“If I’m going to strip for you, then I need some music.” Or she would never get through it.
His eyes lit up at the suggestion. “I like that plan.”
Thankfully, the alarm clock in the room doubled as an iHome. She dug out her iPod from her overstuffed purse and searched for the perfect song. The shaking of her hands from the rapid beat of her heart made the task a little difficult and she turned her back to him so he wouldn’t see. How sexy would it be if she was so nervous she tripped and fell on her face? Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her nerves.
As she scrolled through her playlist, she knew exactly which song to pick. She had discovered it shortly after meeting Ben and had been obsessed with it ever since. Hooking up her iPod, she pressed play and soon the low thumping beat of Nine Inch Nails’ “I Would For You” filled the room.
Dark eyebrows rose as that sinful smirk turned into a full-on grin. “Good choice.”
She met his smile with one of her own. “I thought so.” The fact that he recognized the song was an added bonus she would have to file away for later when she replayed this whole scene over in her head. Because she undoubtedly would.
For her current purposes, she was glad she had worn a soft, flowing navy button-down. Somehow it was sexier to slowly pop each button as she swayed her hips to the beat. For the second time in as many nights, she felt kind of ridiculous about what they were doing together. And for the second time, that feeling dissipated when she looked at him. His hungry eyes were eating up her every movement.
By the time she reached the top button and separated the fabric, her nerves had all but disappeared. There was no mistaking that he wanted her, wanted this and finally she was able to just let go and lose herself in the sultry beat of the song.