“I’ll never be too old for a good spanking,” Suzy says teasingly.
“Me either,” I grin.
“Have you heard anything about your promotion?” Lauren asks me.
“No.” I sigh and tell them about the head games that are being played out at work and how Greg is telling me they don’t want to decide anything for a few more weeks. “Declan is leaving on Friday though. It’s going to be hard not seeing him every day.” Suzy and Lauren give each other a knowing look. “What?”
“You know what.” Suzy smiles at me. “Do you think we’ll ever meet the elusive Declan?”
“Of course,” I say. Suzy and Lauren think I have a secret crush on Declan and that I’m keeping him from them on purpose. It’s silly, but no matter how many times I tell them it isn’t true they still don’t believe me. Of course I don’t mind if they meet him, it simply hasn’t worked out.
“Yes,” Lauren says. “It’s time for you to stop hiding that Irishman. I promise neither of us will steal him from you. Scout’s honor.” She holds her hand up in pledge and gives me an innocent look with her large blue eyes.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have any designs on Declan.” Suddenly I remember The Kiss from last week and my stomach does an odd flip. The Kiss. That’s how I’ve come to think of it whenever the memory pushes its way into the forefront of my mind, which is basically every time I see him. I certainly can’t tell Suzy or Lauren about it though. They’d have a field day.
“I’m inviting him to your birthday party,” Lauren tells me. She and Suzy are planning a birthday dinner for me when I turn thirty five in a few months. “Whether you like it or not, we are finally going to meet that man of yours.”
“He’s not my man! He’s a really good friend, but he isn’t my type.”
“Uh huh,” Suzy says.
I laugh. “All right, definitely invite him to my birthday party. Then you guys can finally see what the situation is between us.”
“Which reminds me, have you decided where you want to have the party?” Lauren asks. “Are you still okay with Pacifico?”
I nod, taking a bite of my salad. “Yeah, the more I think about it, Pacifico will be a nice location for everyone. Plus I like that we’ll all have to dress up. It’ll make it feel more festive.”
We finish the rest of our lunch and then head into the mall to go shopping. Being Saturday it’s crowded. Lots of teenagers—all of them hanging out with their posse, dressed in the latest teenage fashions, which as far as I can tell have come full circle with the stuff I wore as a teenager myself. Plenty of punks and Goths, though I’m not sure if they still call themselves that.
There are also lots of families with young children. I keep noticing them with an odd sort of envy. Occasionally I go through phases like this, where I see how the other half lives and wonder if I’m missing out on something. I suspect my birthday next month has something to do with it. I can hear my oh-so-notorious clock ticking like it’s attached to a stick of dynamite sitting on top of a nitroglycerin tank. And of course the irony that I’m involved with Ben again isn’t lost on me.
The embarrassing truth is that Ben is the only man who has ever asked me to marry him.
I haven’t exactly regretted my decision with Ben all those years ago, but honestly I don’t want to mess it up this time. I figure there’s a reason I still have such strong feelings for him. When I look back, there was some truth in the things Ben said to me when we broke up. It was true that I didn’t include him in my life as much as I should have and that I didn’t even try to feel interested in the things he liked. In some ways I kept him at arm’s length and I understand now how he would have been hurt by that. As I’m pondering this it dawns on me that I’m already doing it again. He asked me to go to the gym with him this morning and I said I couldn’t. I’m already slipping into the same old pattern.
I decide right then and there that I’m not going to screw it up again. The next time Ben asks me to go to the gym or hiking or snowboarding or even mountain climbing—okay, maybe not that one, there’s only so far I can take this—I’m going to say yes. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure this relationship has all the opportunities it needs to succeed. The more I think about it, the more I can’t believe how lucky I am. How often in life do you get a second chance?
Chapter Twelve
When I get home from the mall it’s already six o’clock and I’m expecting Ben at seven o’clock, which means he’ll be here in forty-five minutes. I’m loaded down with shopping bags, most of them filled with clothing and lingerie. Lauren, Suzy, and I wound up in Victoria’s Secret where I decided to stock up. I already have plenty of nice lingerie, but I figure you can never have too much of a good thing, plus it’ll be fun wearing some of it for Ben tonight. I’ve always felt that new relationships require new lingerie. You don’t want to wear the same stuff for the new guy that you did for the old one. There’s something about fresh and pretty lingerie that makes me feel fresh and pretty too.
I take a shower and then after much deliberation decide on a red lace push-up bra with matching panty. I figure we’ll probably stay in, so I wear a simple black slip dress and have bare feet. For some reason I’m feeling nervous. Like maybe Ben isn’t going to show up, like maybe last night was some kind of hallucination, an erotic dream, though it must have been a pretty realistic dream considering my pubic area feels likes a plucked turkey.
When 6:45 comes and goes I’m so edgy I decide to sit and watch television. Just as I’m flipping through various channels, I hear the front door bell ring. The relief flooding through me is so strong I feel embarrassed for myself.
“Hi,” Ben says.
“Hi, yourself.”
He steps inside and closes the door. Neither of us says anything more. We stand in the foyer with our eyes locked. The sexual tension between us is so electric I can hear the air crackling. He puts his hand out and pulls me to him and before I know it we’re all over each other. It’s just like it was last night except this time we don’t make it to the bed or the couch or anything, and instead wind up on the living room floor. The floor is hard and uncomfortable, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except how good it feels and how much I want him.
“Damn...,” Ben says afterwards, flopping onto his back, breathless. “This is really intense between us.”
“It is,” I nod, trying to catch my breath. “I’ve never done it on a hardwood floor. My butt’s bruised and I think I have a concussion.”
He smiles. “That’s nothing. You should try doing it on top of a mountain with no air and subzero temperatures.”
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow at him.
“I was terrified my dick was going to get frostbitten, turn black, and fall off.”
I laugh, despite feeling annoyed that he’s talking about his sexual experience with another woman right after we’ve had sex.
“Uh oh, what time is it?” Ben looks at his watch. “I made dinner reservations for us. I couldn’t get Canto’s again, but I made reservations at Bella Luna’s.”
“Yum, I love the food there.” Bella Luna is a really nice romantic Italian restaurant downtown that has delicious food and out of this world desserts.
“We’ve got a half an hour to get there, do you think you could get ready really fast?”
***
Fifteen minutes later I’m sitting in the front of Ben’s jeep on the freeway driving towards downtown Seattle. Luckily I didn’t have to do much to get ready, since I was already dressed and showered when he arrived. I freshen up a bit, putting on chandelier earrings and a pair of strappy high heeled sandals. The slip dress is kind of on the short side and it feels like I’m showing a lot of leg, but I decide—what the heck. I figure it’s always a good idea to work it in the early days of a relationship. It’s a good idea in the later days too. Most men seem to enjoy it when the woman they’re with gets appreciative looks from other men. I notice Ben is giving me some appreciative looks r
ight now.
I watch his eyes wander down my legs and then back up again. “That’s a real dress, right?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“That’s not just your underwear, is it?”
“It’s a slip dress.”
“Oh, so it’s an actual dress? Not just a slip?”
I grit my teeth. “Yes, hence the name slip dress.”
He nods. “Okay. I get it. You don’t have to be so testy.”
“You just asked me if I was wearing my underwear in public!”
“I know, but it looks like underwear.”
I glance down at my slinky black dress. So much for my great idea about ‘working it’. I stare out the window feeling discouraged, remembering all too well what a wet blanket Ben could be. I feel his eyes on me intermittently, but I don’t say anything. I think of my vow from earlier about trying to make this work and I’m not sure what to do. As I’m pondering all this, I feel Ben’s hand slide down my leg.
“I’m an idiot when it comes to fashion. Would it help things any if I told you I think you look hot?”
I smile at him from the corner of my eye. “It might.”
He takes my hand and puts it over his crotch. “I can barely concentrate on the road while you’re wearing that little dress.”
“Hmm, is that right?” I run my hand over the growing tent in his pants and then lean over, speaking softly into his ear, “I could make it even harder for you to concentrate. Would you like that?” I don’t wait for a response and instead slip my fingers under his shirt, his abdomen muscles tensing beneath them. I undo the zipper on his pants releasing his cock into my hand, enjoying the feel of him so hard and silky at the same time. Ben lets out a soft groan when I squeeze him and a small bit of liquid seeps onto my fingers. I bite his earlobe and slip my tongue in his ear, then run it around the edges. He’s breathing hard, but I can tell he’s conflicted about whether he wants me to continue. I know how he thinks, worrying whether this is safe and legal, always the straight arrow.
I decide to take the decision out of his hands, so I slip my seat belt’s shoulder strap aside and bend down.
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea while I’m driving,” Ben mumbles, though I notice he’s not exactly pushing me away. I lean over until my head is in his lap. Moving my hair to the side, I take his cock into my mouth, just the glans, running my tongue under the rim and then into the small slit, tasting salty pre-come. I play around like this for a while swirling my tongue on the top and sides before I put the length of him into my mouth, tightening my lips and hand so I can suck him rhythmically.
“Jesus,” Ben says hoarsely, one hand on the steering wheel, the other gripping the back of my neck. I keep the rhythm going, running my fingers down to stroke his testicles, feeling them tighten. His hand moves up to my head, pulling my hair. His whole body feels tense beneath me as he talks in a low voice, telling me how “...it feels so good, just like that.” When his cock swells and he seems close to climaxing I pull away and look up at him. His face is flushed and his mouth open.
“Maybe I should stop now.”
“What?”
“It might not be safe while you’re driving.” I know he doesn’t want me to stop, but it’s fun yanking his chain a little.
“Don’t stop,” he breathes. “It’s safe. I’m so close, keep going.” His tries to push my head back down, but I resist.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“I don’t know...how sure are you?”
“Jesus Kate! I’m very sure—okay?”
“I don’t want you to wreck the car.”
“I’m not going to wreck the car, but I’m going wring your neck if you keep teasing me like this!”
I put my mouth down and lick the head of his cock a little. “You should be saying nice things to me,” I point out.
“I know,” he groans. “But I’m not exactly thinking straight.”
I smile and take him back into my mouth, and then using hard tight strokes I continue. He wasn’t joking about being close because he starts to come almost right away, growling and grabbing me, his hand at the back of my head.
“God...that felt incredible,” he breathes, stroking my back. I keep him in my mouth until he softens and then I pull away and sit up. Positioning myself in my seat, I put the strap back over my shoulder. He grins at me. His face is still flushed and his eyes heated. “I’m going to have to think of a suitable punishment for that little stunt.”
I look at him innocently though my pulse is racing and I feel aroused. “What do you mean? You just said it felt good.”
“Uh huh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
I root around in my purse for some lipstick. The truth is there’s something about Ben’s goody-goody personality that always makes me want to shine him on a little. I flip up the passenger side sun visor, happy to find a mirror. “I don’t know what it is about you,” I say. “You’re a bad influence on me.”
“What?” he laughs incredulously. “I’d say it’s the other way around! But just wait, I’m going to get you back when you least expect it.”
I wipe the excess lipstick off my mouth, flip the visor down, and look at Ben with a big smile. “Bring it on baby, I’m ready.”
***
Things are really busy downtown and we wind up having to park a couple blocks up the street from Bella Luna’s. It’s my favorite kind of summer evening with all the streets lit up and people out everywhere. I take Ben’s hand as we stroll towards the restaurant, but after a few seconds he pulls away and I remember that Ben never liked any public displays of affection. He was Mr. No PDA. That’s okay, I tell myself. Nobody’s perfect. I still feel happy walking down the street beside him. I know this is all happening quickly between us again and I should be more cautious, but it feels so familiar that it’s difficult to resist. As we stroll down the sidewalk I notice our reflection in the glass windows of various storefronts and feel a smug satisfaction when I see how good we look together. Ben is so handsome that I feel glamorous walking beside him. He seems to notice it too because he keeps looking over at me, smiling.
“You’re really in your element. A city girl all the way. I’ve missed that about you.”
“Really? I always thought it was a point of contention between us.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, not really. I liked it that you knew the best places to go see and be seen. Sometimes I thought it was too artificial, that’s all. Some of those people you used to hang out with were unbelievably pretentious.”
I want to respond, but we’re arriving at the restaurant, so the topic is dropped as Ben holds the door open for me. Ben’s friends and mine were like oil and water, although he has some nerve calling my friends pretentious when his were nothing but a bunch of blowhards. I’m at least close to my friends. It seemed like he barely even knew those people he hung out with.
There’s a small crowd waiting around for a table, but luckily because of our reservation we’re seated immediately. I can feel people’s eyes on us as we make our way across the room. It’s crowded and I’m pleased to see that I’m dressed just right, as most women appear to be flashing some skin whether it’s cleavage, legs, or bare arms. Hot summer nights in Seattle are about as common as moon landings, so when we get one everybody strips their clothes off.
Once seated, our server comes over and asks us if we’d like anything to drink. I barely glance at her, but then notice that she’s taking a keen interest in Ben, talking to him excitedly about their wine list and leaning in close as she points out her favorites on the menu. She’s about twenty-five and is attractive in a petite blonde sort of way. Her hair is short and spiky and she’s like a frisky Pomeranian the way she’s cocking her head to the side, nodding vigorously when he tells her how he seldom drinks alcohol, but is learning to appreciate wine. She’s showing such doggie enthusiasm about every word coming from his mouth, that any second I’m expecting her to j
ump onto his lap.
“Oh yes, I know exactly what you mean!” she says, resting her hand on Ben’s shoulder. “They’re finding that red wine is full of all sorts of antioxidants and has a tonic effect on the heart. I’ve been putting together a list of medical studies. You should give me your email address before you leave and I’ll send it to you.”
I roll my eyes in disbelief and look around the room again. This is one of the drawbacks of dating a very handsome man. Other women want a piece of him too and they’re not exactly shy about it. I’ve had women rudely interrupt conversations and even give out phone numbers to the guy I was with, right in front of me.
When I bring my eyes back to little Miss Best in Show she’s licking her lips provocatively and staring at Ben with such rapture you’d think the comment he just made about wine lowering cholesterol was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard in her life. I decide enough is enough.
“Excuse me,” I say to her. “I’d like a glass of ice water. Perhaps you could fetch it for me? ”
She looks flustered as if noticing me for the first time. “Oh...what was that?”
“I’d like a glass. Of water. With ice.”
“I see.”
“And when you return with it maybe you could finally tell us what today’s specials are.”
“Oh, sure.” She turns to Ben with a big smile. “Do you know what you’d like or should I give you another minute?”
“Give me a minute,” he says, smiling back. “I want to mull this over some more.”
As she leaves and is still in earshot I say loudly to Ben, “Don’t make fun of that poor girl’s haircut.”
Ben looks up from his menu. “What the heck are you talking about?”
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