by J. Daniels
I laugh and he smiles at me. His eyes shift to our conjoined hands. After one gentle squeeze, he lets mine go. I hold in my disappointment and rejoin my own hands together in my lap.
“So, Officer Kelly.”
My God, does that have a ring to it or what?
Images of him doing things to me in that uniform flash in front of my eyes too fast to focus on. I blink rapidly as his eyes meet mine and darken. And that look, the look that he’s hitting me with is directly connected to the pulsing spot between my legs. I clear my throat and the dirty thoughts from my mind.
“Do you like being a cop?”
Good save.
I hide my heated face behind the strand of hair that fell out of my clip, shifting my attention to the road in front of us. My body goes rigid when his hand brushes my face, tucking my hair back behind my ear.
“I do,” he replies coolly, as if he didn’t just touch me. As if he’s completely unaffected by that touch. His hand returns to his lap before he continues, his eyes returning to the road as mine neglect it completely. I am entirely too focused on him and his smooth voice. “It’s never boring, that’s for sure. Plus, Nolan gets a kick out of it.” His lip curls up into a smile, as if he’s thinking of some memory. “What about you? What were you doing back home?”
“I was taking classes at the local community college, but stopped when my mom was diagnosed. I’d like to eventually do something with kids, I think. Be a teacher or guidance counselor or something.”
“I can see that,” he says. “I’m sure you’d be awesome at it.”
I look to the back seat at a very sleepy little boy whose head is slouched against his car seat. “He really is the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.” I pry his wooden sword out of his hand and place it onto the seat next to him. “You’ve raised this incredible little boy, Ben. If I ever have kids of my own someday, I hope they turn out as awesome as this one.”
Our eyes lock.
“If there was any woman that was born to be a mother, it’s you.”
He means what he says. I can feel it. I settle back into my seat and stare at his profile. “Really?”
I’ve never given much thought to having children, mainly because I’ve never pictured the person I would someday have them with. When you’ve gone twenty-three years without a boyfriend, it’s hard to imagine having a husband.
He looks over at me like I’ve just asked him the most ridiculous question—deep crease in his forehead and a curious frown. “Are you kidding? Look how you are with Nolan.”
I shake my head in disagreement. “Nolan’s easy, though. He’d probably love anybody that played knights and princesses with him.”
“You’re not just anybody. You knighted my son, which he hasn’t stopped talking about. You gave him this amazing memory tonight, and he does the nose thing with you.”
I furrow my brow, confusion setting in. “The nose thing? Oh, you mean when he runs his finger down your nose? That thing?”
“Yeah. Do you know he only does that with me?” He pulls off the highway and onto the back road leading toward the house. I shake my head, and he sees it before continuing. “I’ve never seen him do that with anybody else. Not Tessa, not my parents, and definitely not his mother. I don’t know why he does it, but he’s only ever done that with me.”
I suddenly feel horrible, like I’ve barged in on a private Ben and Nolan bonding activity.
“I’m sorry. He did it to me when he woke me up the other day and I did it back out of reflex. I didn’t know that was your thing.”
“Mia, relax. I like that he does that with you. I like that that’s something you and I share with him. He’s only known you for a week and he’s already formed this special bond with you. You’d be an amazing mom.” He pauses, glancing in his rearview mirror. “You’d be better than the one he has.”
“She’s not good with him?”
I only have concern in my voice, but the thought of someone not being good to Nolan makes my blood boil. I keep that emotion tucked away though.
Ben shakes his head. “She doesn’t spend time with Nolan because she wants to spend time with him. She does it to keep him from spending time with me. She’s never been a good mom to him. When he was a baby, she refused to breastfeed him because she was so worried that it would wreck her body. I begged her to do it because I knew it would be good for him, and she still refused.” His hand that is gripping the wheel seems to grip tighter. “I hate leaving him with her, knowing that he’s probably being neglected. Something could happen to him because she doesn’t pay attention and the thought of that . . .” His voice trails off, and I don’t think, I just move.
I push up the flip console and slide across the bench seat, pulling his free hand into mine. “Nothing’s going to happen to him. You can’t think like that, it’ll drive you crazy.”
He glances over at me, our bodies pressed up against each other’s.
I squeeze his hand the way he did mine when he was comforting me moments ago. “You’re going to worry about him because he’s your son, but you can’t let that worry eat you up. Just focus on your time with Nolan. Focus on making him happy every second you’re with him, because that little face back there should always be smiling.”
The truck had stopped in front of the house sometime during my speech, but I have no idea when. I am purely focused on easing his troubled mind. Seeing him like this is heartbreaking.
Ben stares at me with fascination. “You’ve given my son more in one week than his mother has in three years. You have no idea what that means to him. What that means to me.” His neck rolls with a deep swallow as he glances down at our hands that are interlocked in my lap. “How did I not see this amazing girl nine years ago?” His thumb grazes the skin of my hand, rubbing it softly.
I don’t know how to answer him, so I watch him study our hands instead, admiring his features while he admires our connection—his long, dark lashes and prominent cheek bones. He seems drawn to the very sight of our hands together, but that look of interest doesn’t linger.
Exhaling loudly, almost frustratingly, he slides his hand out of mine and bypasses my gaze to look at the dashboard. “It’s late. I should probably get Nolan to bed.”
Friends don’t hold hands. Friends don’t sit this close. And Ben knows these things. I don’t care what the rules of friendship are because I’m not sure I want Ben as a friend. Not when he makes me feel like this. But that must be how he’s seeing me because he’s breaking our contact. I slide back over to my side and open my door, jumping out of the truck. I open the back door and lean my head inside, pressing a kiss to Nolan’s temple.
“Goodnight, Sir Nolan,” I whisper, seeing him stir a bit. I look up front at Ben whose bright gray eyes are studying me. “Goodnight, Ben.”
“Goodnight,” he says with a smile that seems guarded, unlike his usual halt-me-in-my-place smile that makes me forget how to breathe.
I go to close the door but stop myself, turning back to Ben. “I’m really sorry I broke your stereo.”
“What?”
I wince at the memory. “Remember the summer before I moved away? I went to your room to borrow your stereo and I knocked it off your desk, breaking it. I’m really sorry about that.”
He shakes his head, his brow furrowing. “What made you think about that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. But, God, I remember how angry you were. You hated me that day.”
His gaze drops briefly before returning to mine. “Mia, do me a favor. Don’t apologize for stuff that happened between us before. You could’ve broken everything in my room and it wouldn’t have justified the way I treated you back then. You don’t owe me an apology. Ever. Okay?”
I smile meekly and nod. “Okay. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
I walk inside and go straight to my bedroom, collapsing down on my bed.
Tonight was amazing. It was the best non-date I’ve ever been on. I loved talking and hanging out with Be
n, which seems crazy considering how much I used to hate the mere presence of him. The boy I once wished never existed was now the man I wanted to spend every second with. I’m not holding on to that hate I once had for him anymore. I can’t. Not when the man he is now makes me feel things I’ve only read about in books. I’m done trying to forget that I gave him a part of me that no one else will ever touch. I want him to have it. I want him to have every piece of me. Benjamin Kelly is becoming everything I’ve ever wanted, and I am finally willing to admit that to myself.
At the very moment my eyes shut, Tessa swings my door open and walks over to my bed, lying down next to me. I wait for the interrogation to start, but it doesn’t come, which is shocking. Rolling over, I notice her worried expression.
“I’m late,” she states, keeping her eyes on the ceiling.
“For . . .” And then it hits me. Girls only use that wording for one thing when it’s paired with the look she’s carrying right now. “Oh, my God. What are you going to do?”
She finally looks at me but doesn’t respond. But she doesn’t have to. Her face is giving away everything she needs to say.
She has no fucking clue.
I WANTED TO tell her she looked beautiful that night.
I wanted to wrap my arm around her shoulder and hold her against my chest when she slid next to me in my truck.
I wanted to kiss those soft full lips before she walked into the house.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t do any of those things. Not when I was very clear about that night not being a date.
I’m trying to earn Mia’s trust, and drilling her into my bench seat isn’t the way to go about it. If I act on my impulses, it will fuck up the progress I’ve somehow managed to make. She’s talking to me now instead of brushing me off. She’s spending time with me instead of running away. Or jumping off cliffs. I can’t lose what I have going with Mia. And my dick can hate me all it wants, but I am adamant about keeping things friendly with her for now.
Four days. That’s how long I make it without seeing her before I find myself driving to my parents’ house after work. And believe me when I say that those four days were the longest of my life. Thank Christ I have a job, otherwise I’m certain I would’ve gone completely mental without a distraction. Luke enjoyed my misery immensely, making sure to point out every time I brought Mia’s name up in a conversation that had everything to do with work and nothing to do with her. And it was misery. Keeping my thoughts off her tight pussy and focusing on the friendship I was building with her. And if my own mind wasn’t hard enough to filter on its own, she started throwing text messages at me that were becoming more and more sexual. Apparently, Mia and I were now the type of friends that joked around about sex. She was so fucking comfortable with me now that nothing was off limits to her.
And she didn’t care to ask me if I was okay with that before she shifted us into that category.
Mia: Do you think it’s possible to get carpal tunnel from masturbating too much?
This was the first one she threw at me. My brain was immediately flooded with images of her touching herself, and it took every ounce of strength in me not to get off before I replied. I should’ve answered it with something like this:
Me: Mia, I don’t think that’s an appropriate friend conversation to have. And we’re friends, so let’s not go there.
But no, I’m a complete shit with zero willpower. So instead, I answered with this:
Me: If it’s possible, I’d already have it.
Yup. Now she knew I was jerking off like a mad man. Which was the God’s honest truth. I was hoping that this was a mistake on her part, and she’d realize her error and never tempt me with another text like this again. My dick was throbbing enough without the help from the images she was putting into my head. But apparently, she was just getting started.
Mia: What do you think is my best feature? Tessa says my legs, but I’m thinking my boobs. Thoughts?
Thoughts? Really? I was convinced that she was trying to kill me. She was an angel and a devil wrapped into one package that I couldn’t refuse. One that I desperately wanted to bend over my bed and fuck into tomorrow. I couldn’t ignore her. We were friends, and if this was the type of friends she wanted to be, then I could be that. I’d be hard constantly, but let’s face it, being around her was already making that an issue. So I decided to just go with it and answer honestly.
Me: Tits, mouth, ass, legs. In that order.
I thought I was golden. I thought I was going to be able to handle these sexual texts and not have my dick in my hand twenty-four hours a day. And I would’ve been, if she didn’t up the stakes.
Mia: Do guys prefer a girl that swallows to a girl that spits? I mean, isn’t the general act of sucking off a guy enough to make them happy? Does it really matter what I do with your cum?
Motherfucker. This text was reread numerous times, mainly when I was jerking myself off. Especially that last sentence. The implication of it being my cum in her mouth was too much for me. I was weak. Weak and hornier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Weak enough to give her a response.
Me: It’s really fucking hot when a girl swallows. But yes, the act itself is enough to make most guys not care one way or the other.
Not a big deal. I was perfectly capable of handling anything she threw at me. Or so I thought.
Mia: I was so unbelievably horny today. Guys are lucky. They can just tuck their erections away and go on about their day like they aren’t sporting wood. Girls can’t do that. I had to change my panties twice before lunch.
That does it. I wave my white flag in surrender. I don’t give her a response to that, not by text message anyway. No, my response is in the form of me pulling up to my parents’ house like a complete dick.
I need to see her, especially after that last text. I should be seeing her to tell her in person that she can’t keep sending me messages like that. But the second her body comes into view, lounging on a chair next to the pool, every thought is wiped from my brain. I suddenly can’t remember why I am here, but that doesn’t stop me from walking around the pool and directly toward her like a man possessed.
Her eyes are closed so she doesn’t see me coming. And then she opens her mouth and begins singing along to the song that is playing through her ear buds. I recognize “Crash My Party” by Luke Bryan instantly.
It’s an all right song, but hearing Mia sing it makes me really like it.
I stand in front of her, even more enthralled by the sight of her than I usually am as she stays completely oblivious to my presence. My girl can sing. Her voice is as beautiful as she is, and she’s belting the tune out and tapping her feet on her beach towel as I enjoy the show.
She hums the final notes of the song before her eyes finally open, meeting the smile that’s been plastered on my face since she got in my sight.
“Ben! Jesus Christ!” she yells, sitting up and placing her hand on her heaving chest. Her other hand pulls out her ear buds and discards them in her lap. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough,” I reply, thinking back to the night at the bar when I used the same words on her.
Her cheeks react the same way they did that night, the slight flush that causes her gaze to wander from mine temporarily until she regains her composure. But she doesn’t have to hide her reaction to me. I like when I knock her off balance. And right now, I can’t stop looking at her.
She’s all dark hair, slightly tanned skin, and big brown eyes that regard me with curiosity after she collects herself.
“I, uh, didn’t know you were stopping by today. Are you here to see Tessa because she ran out for a bit.”
For the first time since Mia’s arrival in Ruxton, I wish we weren’t alone. I wish my sister was sitting out here by the pool. I can’t be weak right now, and being alone with Mia in the insanely small bikini she is wearing is making me weak.
No, fuck that. I can do this. I focus on her eyes. Only h
er eyes.
“I think it’s a safe assumption to make that if I ever stop over here while you’re in town, I’m not here to see my sister.”
Her lips part slightly as she absorbs my words. Does she really not know that I’m here to see her?
I glance down at the neglected book in her lap. “What are you reading?”
Her eyes follow mine and her fingers graze the cover. “Oh, um The Giving Tree. I haven’t read it since I was little, but I can’t really get into it.” She peeks up at me slowly, taking her time to reach my face. “You didn’t respond to my text.”
My breath hitches in my throat uncomfortably. I reach up and rub my neck, suddenly feeling like a shitty friend. But fuck! What the hell kind of response was she expecting out of me? The memory of that text and of her wet pussy has me contemplating nailing her to the lounge chair she’s reclining on. Leave it to Mia to cut the shit and just straight up call me out on my neglectfulness. Because if we are friends, why wouldn’t I have responded to her? It won’t surprise me if her next move is to read the damn message to me out loud and prompt a reply from me that way. And I can’t have that happen. There’s no way in hell I’d be able to restrain myself if she actually voiced that message. But I gotta give that daunting stare of hers something. She’ll never let this go. I know her too well to try and change the subject. So a lie will have to do.
I stuff my hands into my pockets and try to seem unfazed by this. But I’m definitely fucking fazed. “I was really busy this afternoon. Luke and I got called to this domestic violence dispute and it was really intense. I’m sorry. I actually forgot about your text until just now.”
I didn’t. I could never forget about that text.
“Oh, okay.” She begins chewing on the inside of her cheek, her eyes flicking away from mine to the pool. She seems hesitant all of a sudden. The confident girl that was just singing her heart out and ballsy enough to bring this topic up is nowhere in sight. Until I see it, something spreading over her, causing her back to straighten and her eyes to narrow in on mine with a thundering intensity that I’ve never seen before. “You’re going to respond to it, right?”