"It's not something I want to discuss," he said succinctly.
She rolled her eyes, unwilling to let the subject go. "Come on, Ben. We all have a past of some sort. You should know by now that I'm not one to judge, especially considering my own less-than-ideal childhood with a mother who was so intent on molding me into this perfectly demure lady and obedient wife to some man she approved of."
"At least you had a mother around." The barest hint of a smile made an appearance, lightening the moment between them. "Even if she was overbearing and controlling."
"That's putting things mildly and you know it," she said, and playfully pointed her fork at him. "My mother pretty much had my entire life planned out for me, including being a politician's wife. But you already know all that so stop trying to change the subject. We're talking about your mother, not mine."
"It's a long, depressing story that'll probably put you to sleep." He shrugged and continued eating his omelette.
"Luckily I had plenty of rest last night and we have the entire day ahead of us," she countered easily. "Time is not an issue."
He sighed, and surprisingly he didn't attempt to evade the topic any longer. "Honestly, I haven't thought about my mother and what happened with her in a very long time, and I'm not sure where to start."
"The beginning is always a good place," she said, trying to keep things light. "How did your parents meet?"
"They both lived in Perry, a small town in West Virginia. My father, Neil, was twenty at the time and worked in a local coal mine along with my grandpa, which is pretty much what all the men in that town did for a living and to support their families. It wasn't a glamorous life by any stretch of the imagination."
"I'm sure it was very hard, dangerous work," she said, going off what she'd heard on the news over the years about coal mines and the hazards of working in one. "But it's still a respectable job."
"My father and grandpa thought so," he said and smiled fondly, telling her that he'd at least had good memories of those two men who'd been a part of his life. "From what I've heard through town gossip, my mother is the one who pursued my father, and she was eighteen when she got pregnant with me as a way out of her own abusive family life. Of course my father married her, not only because it was the right thing to do, but apparently he truly did love her, too."
Finished with his breakfast, he pushed his empty plate aside. "After I was born, my mother started pushing my father for them to move to the city where he could get a better paying job. She hated living in a small town and the little two bedroom house my father bought, which was all he could afford with what he made. She wanted to live in Charleston, but my father refused to move. He'd been born and raised in Perry and coal mining was all he knew."
Standing, she collected their dishes and carried them to the sink. "And that's where your father's parents lived, too, right?"
"Actually, my grandmother, who was a wonderful woman, passed away when I was about five, and a few years after that my grandpa died from black lung disease. So, really, there was nothing familywise tying my father to that town, but he was a simple man who didn't need or want anything more than what he had."
Picking up the carafe of hot coffee, she headed back to the table and refilled his mug with the steaming brew. "Sounds like you take after your father."
"I suppose I do," he said with an easygoing smile.
She returned the coffeepot to the counter and remained there, leaning against the kitchen cabinets across from where Ben was sitting. "So, what happened?" she asked, knowing there was so much more to the story.
"By the time I was ten, it was obvious that my parents' marriage was strained." He absently traced a finger along the rim of his coffee cup. "Over the years, my mother's anger and bitterness toward my father increased, and she even grew to resent me, as well."
"What?" she exclaimed incredulously, unable to believe that a mother could blame a child for her unhappiness. "You were just a little boy!"
"One who kept her tied to a man and town that she no longer wanted to be a part of," he said matter-of-factly.
Christine's jaw dropped open. "She told you that?"
"Not directly, no." He hesitated for a moment, then meeting her gaze from across the room, he continued, "I was in bed one night when my mother and father were fighting in the living room. She didn't bother to keep her voice down, and after informing my father that she was filing for a divorce, she went on to tell him that she was tired of being a small-town wife, that she wanted something more exciting than being married to a coal miner and being a PTA mother. By the next morning, she'd packed up her things and she was gone. She didn't even wake me up to say good-bye, and I haven't seen or heard from her since, and I don't care if I ever do."
His tone was so blasé, as if he were relaying someone else's past and not his own horrible memories of a mother who'd turned her back on him without a second thought. But it was the raw pain she detected in the depths of his eyes that told another tale, about a young boy who most likely believed his own mother didn't love him enough to stay, or even fight to take him when she left town.
A lump formed in her throat and it felt as if her own heart were being torn in two. She closed the distance between them, and because he was sitting she didn't hesitate to straddle his lap, her only thought to get as close to him as possible, to let him know that someone cared for the hurt and confused little boy he'd been, and even the man he'd grown to be.
Their position was intimate, but was meant to be more comforting than sexual. She framed his face in her hands, his skin still rough with morning stubble. "I'm so sorry, Ben," she whispered, the ache in her voice real.
Instead of pushing her away or refusing the tenderness she was offering, he placed his hands on her hips, his gaze searching hers. "What for?" he murmured.
"For you and the little boy inside who endured a mother's cruel words and abandonment." She swallowed hard, her anger toward a woman she'd never met a palpable thing. "What kind of mother does that to her only child?"
"A selfish one," he said, meaning it, the harsh tone of his voice leaving no doubt about how he felt toward the woman who'd been his mother for only ten years of his life. "My father couldn't live up to her expectations, and I was more of a nuisance than anything else, so she bailed. The unfortunate part was that my father never stopped loving her, and in order to forget the pain of her walking out on us, he turned to the bottle."
Gently removing her hands from his face, Ben placed her palms on his chest and exhaled a deep breath. "My father was a good, decent man, but my mother completely destroyed him because he wasn't able to give her the kind of life she insisted on. After high school, I took a job in the coal mines, too, but when my father passed away a year later, I decided that there was nothing left for me in the small town of Perry, and I joined the Marines."
And his time in the military, she knew, was a whole other story rife with more pain and heartache. "You've done well with your life," she said, focusing on what he'd accomplished. "Your father would have been proud."
"Thanks." He gingerly eased her off his lap, and she straightened as he stood up, too, obviously ready to put an end to the personal conversation that had dredged up a whole lot of deeply buried and painful emotions for him.
Picking up his coffee mug, he carried it to the sink, then turned around to face her, his expression all serious business. "By the way, I did speak to your father while you were in the shower to let him know what, exactly, happened at the charity event, and he let me know that he received another threat today to drop out of the election, which also made reference to last night's drugging incident with you."
"He better not give in to those ultimatums," she said adamantly. As a family, they'd been in similar situations with his political career, and this campaign for governor was too important for her father to drop out over someone's blackmail attempt.
Ben leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "He's going forward with the election
, but he's definitely concerned about your safety, first and foremost, and we both decided that until the election is over you need to keep a low profile."
She didn't like the way that sounded. "Don't tell me that I have to stay cooped up in this house for the next week and a half. I know I had a close call this time, but I have a business to run and I'm not about to give this jerk the satisfaction of thinking he's scared me off."
Ben chuckled. "Yeah, your father said you'd react just like that, so we came to a compromise. No more public appearances until after the election, and that includes hanging out at Envy with your friends."
She lifted a brow, not at all surprised that he'd made Envy off-limits, which made her wonder if that was due more to the night club's crowded atmosphere, or Craig's presence there. "Whose decision was that?" she asked with a tip of her head. "Yours or my father's?"
"It was a mutual decision."
His expression gave nothing away, but she suspected that Ben was immensely pleased that she'd be keeping her distance from Craig. And honestly, she was fine with that. "I don't have anything scheduled until my birthday party at Envy, but that's after the election. So, until then, I'll keep things low-key."
"Perfect." He nodded his head in satisfaction and pushed away from the counter. "You've had a rough night, so you really should rest and take it easy today. As for me, I have some reports and paperwork to get done."
She recognized his comment as an excuse for him to put some distance between them. She wasn't sure if it was because of their intense conversation about his mother, or something else. But she understood his need to be alone, to think about everything he'd just shared, and for the rest of the day she'd give him the space that he seemed to need.
But come tonight, he was all hers.
Chapter Ten
STANDING in front of Ben's closed bedroom door at quarter after nine in the evening, Christine figured she had two choices. One, to heed all the subtle signals Ben had been giving off all day long to keep things nice and platonic between them, or two, to walk through the door separating her from the man she wanted in more ways than one and proceed to seduce him, and indulge in what surely would be the greatest pleasure she'd ever experienced.
Knowing her time with Ben was limited, her choice didn't require a whole lot of thought or debate. Embracing the latter option, along with her inner vixen, she opened the door and stepped inside the guest bedroom where Ben was reclining on his bed wearing just a pair of boxer briefs and reading a hardback spy novel.
As soon as she entered the room, he immediately sat up and placed his book on the nightstand, his entire body going taut in alert mode. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine," she quickly assured him, and watched as he relaxed somewhat-except for the tentative look in his eyes as he took in what she was wearing. At the moment, all he could see was a bright red silk robe and her absolute favorite Christian Louboutin shoes-a pair of leopard print platform pumps that were lined in red and had a four-inch spiked heel.
"Nice outfit," he said, a hint of wry amusement underscoring his husky voice. "Are you going somewhere?"
She laughed at his attempt to keep things light and humorous when it was so obvious why she was there in his room. Slowly, she strolled toward where he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, and came to a stop in front of him within touching distance.
"The only place I'm going is wherever you take me tonight," she said, and tugged on the sash around her waist. She let the material unravel her like a gift, then let the thin strip of fabric drop to the floor. A sultry shrug of her shoulders, and the coverup slithered down her arms and fell to her feet in a pool of red silk. What she wore beneath-a red, sheer lace bra and matching panties-made Ben groan deep in his throat.
Retrieving the foil packets she'd tucked into her bra for safekeeping, she tossed the trio of condoms onto the bed beside Ben. "I'm yours to do with as you please," she said, daring him to take what she was offering.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and his hands curled into tight fists on his thighs. "Christine…"
Hearing the beginnings of a rejection starting to form, she pressed her fingers against his lips to stop the words she refused to let him speak. "I want this, and you, so badly, Ben," she whispered achingly. "Please don't tell me no. Not tonight."
Gently, he pulled her hand away from his mouth, his gaze dark with lust and something much more poignant that made her heart skip a beat. "I should tell you no and make you leave, but I can't." His hands slid to her hips, and he pulled her closer, between his spread legs. "I want you too much."
"I'm right where I want to be, Ben." There was so much truth to that statement, and the intensity of emotion she felt in that moment almost frightened her.
He said nothing more. Didn't bother to fight what they both so obviously wanted. In a quick, lithe move, he twisted toward the bed behind him and pulled her with him, lifting her slightly and tumbling her back so that she was sprawled in the middle of the mattress, his for the taking. He moved up next to her, his gaze devouring the soft swells of her breasts nearly spilling from the demi-cups of her bra, the dip and curve of her waist, and the flimsy scrap of lace covering her sex.
"You are so incredibly beautiful and sexy," he murmured as he traced an enticing trail between her breasts, then down her flat belly to the waistband of her panties. "I want to touch you, and kiss you, and taste you… everywhere." That same finger followed the patch of lace between her legs and pressed against the fabric that was already damp with desire. "Especially right here."
His gaze was hot with erotic intent and promises, and a shiver of anticipation coursed through her. "You can do anything you want to me, except one thing."
He stroked the inside of her thigh with his fingers, easing them apart so he could move his knee in between and move closer to her. "And that would be?"
She ran the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip. "No missionary position." It was all she knew, and this time with Ben was all about pleasure, excitement, and new, thrilling adventures.
"You don't have to worry about that," he said with a slow, wicked smile. "There are about a dozen other ways to get deep inside of you, and I want to try every single one of them."
His provocative words made her hot and eager, and anxious to experience it all. "Sounds like we're on the same page, then."
"Perfect." he said, then settled his mouth over hers.
With an unraveling sigh, she parted her lips for the caress of his tongue, and lost herself in a cloud of luxurious bliss. He seduced her with slow, deep, drugging kisses, the kind that gradually increased in heat and tempo, until he was claiming her mouth with a fierce, hungry demand that made her melt. One of his hands glided down her throat, across her shoulder, and pulled her bra strap down her arm, until she felt cool air brush across her bared breast.
She shivered, then moaned when he cupped the mound of flesh and caressed the taut peak with his thumb. He pulled the lace cup away from her other breast and plucked at her other nipple until it, too, was hard and aching. Feeling impatient for more, a soft, needy sound escaped her, but he took his own sweet time in arousing her and building the anticipation of what was to come, which only served to heighten her desire-and she was pretty sure he knew it, as well.
After a while his lips trailed along her jaw, and he nuzzled her neck before spreading more lazy, spine-tingling kisses down to her breast. He took her nipple into his warm, wet mouth, and sucked gently, over and over, drawing a gasp from her. Threading her fingers through his hair, she gripped his head and guided him to her other waiting breast. At his own leisure, he laved the plump flesh with his tongue-stroking, licking, swirling around and over the hard, sensitive crest, until she was panting and arching restlessly against the heat of his mouth.
Chuckling in pure amusement, he finally parted his lips and drew her deep into all that decadent, silky, wet heat. He sucked once again, and she felt that tantalizing pull all the way down to her weepi
ng sex. Groaning, she clenched her thighs tight around the leg he'd wedged in between hers, and she could feel the steel length of his erection pressing against her hip. He was huge and hard and that's exactly what she wanted. Him. Deep inside of her. Filling her completely and giving her the orgasm building inside of her.
She reached down and cupped his shaft in her hand, stroking him through his boxer briefs. This time, it was him that groaned, deep and low. Releasing her breast, he grabbed her wrist and pinned her arm on the mattress beside her, then lifted his head to look down at her face.
"You keep doing that, and I'm not going to last very long," he drawled in a husky, lust-filled voice.
At the moment, she didn't care. "I want you inside of me."
"Don't be so impatient," he chided playfully as a sinfully sexy smile curved his lips. "I promise we're getting there, but I'm not done with you yet."
A moan of frustration slipped out of her. She was already burning up, her body already primed for his. "You're driving me crazy on purpose, aren't you?"
"It's called foreplay, sweetheart." He brought his hand back to her breast and lightly pinched the stiff peak, then soothed the sting with a featherlike brush of his thumb over the velvety crest. "I'm just getting you nice and ready for the good stuff."
"I thought this was the good stuff," she said, unsure of just how much more she could take of his sensual torment-or whatever else he had planned.
His fingers swept downward, tickling and teasing her belly with delicate, barely-there caresses that only served to electrify every nerve ending she possessed. "When it comes to sex, it's all good stuff, but the best is yet to come."
That made her laugh, which was something she'd never done in the bedroom with another guy. With Ben, it just felt so natural and right. "Pun intended?"
"Oh, most definitely." Quick and agile, he moved over her, straddling her thighs with his legs so that she couldn't move. He lowered his upper body to hers until they were face to face and his long fingers were tangled in her hair.
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