Now and Again

by Rothert, Brenda

  She curled her lips up at the thought of his large, powerful body on top of hers. Ben’s broader than broad shoulders, muscular build and sexy smirk made up for seven months of no contact with the opposite sex. She wanted to taste him and feel his soft lips and rough stubble against her mouth again.

  The faint whine of a floorboard creaking made Layla’s eyes fly back open. She heard the same noise again, and her heart thudded so hard she felt it in her ears. It was that spot in her living room next to the couch where the wood floor always creaked when someone walked there. Thoughts swirled through her mind. Call the police. Lock the bedroom door. Find the mace I stuck in my dresser drawer. Scream!

  But her terror left her trapped in bed, still and silent. She was afraid to even breathe. Her eyes were locked on the doorway as she waited for a dark form to appear there.

  Minutes passed, and she drew in slow breaths as she waited. Her body trembled when she finally slid her feet over the side of the bed to the floor. She paused to listen, and when she didn’t hear anything, she stood up and walked gingerly to the doorway.

  Part of her knew she was being that stupid bitch she hated in the scary movies she loved to watch. She always shook her head with disgust when they went to check things out instead of calling the police. But the light switch was so close, and she reached forward and flipped it up, peering out the doorway into the living room.

  Nice, Layla. Now you’ll be able to see who’s murdering you.

  She took a deep breath and walked out to the living room, her pulse racing as she fumbled with the switch on a lamp. When she turned it, she exhaled deeply as she surveyed the room. The blue afghan her grandma had made years ago was folded and draped over the back of the couch, as usual. Her Cosmo was still open on the coffee table, where she’d left it before bed.

  Everything being in its place gave her the courage to explore the rest of the apartment. The kitchen was as empty and unused as ever, with barren countertops and a light layer of dust on the stove.

  “Prince!” she called. “Come on, baby, wake up!”

  After a few seconds, he trotted down the short hallway toward her, his eyes drooping.

  “Help Mommy check everything out,” she said, bending down to rub his ears. He followed her as she shoved coats aside in the closet and jerked the shower curtain back in the bathroom, exploring every spot a person could hide.

  Nothing. So she and Prince were alone in the apartment. Did she just have an overactive imagination? She was tired, and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed after a double check of the deadbolt.

  She squinted at the lock, sure it looked like it was in the upright, unlocked position.

  Impossible. I know I locked it.

  She stepped closer, an ominous feeling settling over her as she saw that it was unlocked. When she reached for the handle and found it unlocked, too, a chill passed through her.

  “Prince,” she called, rushing to the console table where her purse sat and grabbing it. Her dog approached and she scooped him into her arms, rushing out the door.

  The feeling of dread didn’t start to fade until she was locked in the car with Prince, driving toward a downtown hotel. There was no way she’d be able to sleep in her apartment tonight.

  ***

  At the sound of the fourth ring on the other end of the line, Ben tapped his foot impatiently on his tiled kitchen floor. Of all the days for his sister not to answer. He really needed to talk to her today.

  “Ben, hi! How are you?” she said brightly.

  He sighed, relieved. “Hey, Bree. I’m good, how’s England?”

  “It’s good. Jack’s workload lightened, so we’ve been seeing him more. The boys like their school. Yeah, it’s good, except for being so far from you.”

  “Yeah, I miss you guys,” Ben said, leaning against his kitchen counter.

  “So, what’s up? You never call me when nothing’s up.”

  “What? I call you just to talk.” His tone was indignant.

  “Okay, so are you calling me just to talk?”

  “Well, not this time. I met someone, and I’ve been seeing her,” he said.

  “That’s great! It’s been so long since you dated anyone. God, like years since you had an actual relationship. You haven’t, really, since Steph, have you?”

  Ben sighed at the mention of Steph’s name. “No. I’ve taken women out plenty of times, but never a relationship. But Layla and I aren’t in a relationship yet.”

  “Yet? So you’d like to be?” Bree prodded.

  “I don’t know. She’s different than the women I usually go out with. She’s an attorney, and she’s beautiful. Not just pretty – she’s really beautiful, Bree. But she’s like me.”

  “She’s an overbearing asshole?” The smile in his sister’s tone made Ben laugh.

  “Well, I wouldn’t use those words, but … she’s not shy. She says what she means. She likes to be in control.”

  “John, put that down! No hitting!” Bree scolded one of her young sons. “Sorry, Ben, he was chasing his brother with a fork. So, how does she make you feel?”

  Ben folded an arm across his chest as he considered. “Depends what day you ask me. Frustrated, intrigued, happy … She always leaves me wanting more.”

  “That’s interesting, coming from you.”

  “I know, it seems weird. I’ve never in my life chased a woman until now. If they didn’t come to me, I always figured another one would. But there’s something about her. She’s got this façade of not caring, but I can tell that deep down she wants me to chase her. And damned if I don’t want to catch her.”

  “Are you ready for something serious? Is that what you mean?” Bree asked.

  “I don’t think so. You know I’m not made that way.”

  “I’m not made that way, either, Ben, but Jack’s the best thing that ever happened to me and I’m so glad I gave myself a chance with him,” Bree said.

  “You’re better at this stuff than I am. I’m a loner, and I like predictability and order. That’s why I liked being a Marine and why being a detective suits me. I solve a problem, then move on to the next one.”

  “Why don’t you talk to her? Tell her what you’re scared of,” Bree said gently.

  Ben scoffed. “I’m not scared. I just don’t think I’m a relationship guy, that’s all.”

  “Did you tell her about Steph?”

  “No, I don’t see why she needs to know about that. Isn’t it bad form to talk about your exes?”

  “In this instance, I think you should. Just think about it, okay?”

  “Yeah. Hey, I’m all sweaty from lifting and I need to get a shower before I go over to Layla’s.”

  “Okay. I’m glad you called, Ben. It’s nice to hear you sound happy. I hope we’re not stuck over here forever, because I miss you so much, and I want my boys to get to know their uncle better.”

  “Me too, Bree. I’m proud of you, you know. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she said. “And think about what I said. I’m older and wiser than you.”

  “Don’t I know it. Call me sometime, okay?”

  “Okay. Have fun tonight.”

  As Ben hung up, thoughts of his sister made him smile. He wished the only person who’d always been there for him wasn’t on the other side of the world.

  Chapter 5

  The light rap on her front door sent a wave of anxiety rushing through Layla’s body. She suddenly wished she’d dressed nicer. Her plaid boxers and gray UIUC law t-shirt seemed like the right choice for movie night when she was getting dressed, but now…

  Now she wished she was wearing a little black dress and sexy heels, so she’d feel her most confident.

  Relax, Layla. He’s just a man.

  She opened the door and sucked in a breath when she saw him.

  A very hot man. Damn.

  His hair was still damp from the shower, and he was clean shaven, wearing worn jeans and a red triathlon logoed t-shirt fitted across his w
ide chest.

  “Hey,” he said, smiling.

  “Hi.” Layla stepped aside and when he walked in, she saw the dark wine bottle he carried.

  “You didn’t have to bring anything,” she said.

  “Is this the kind you like? I thought it was the one you ordered at the pub one night.”

  “I love it.” She reached for the chilled bottle. “Are you planning to get me drunk so my defenses are down?”

  “Layla,” he said flatly, “I’m not someone you need to defend against. I definitely wouldn’t enjoy anything you didn’t want.”

  “No, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  After a few uncomfortable seconds of silence, she reached for the wine. “You want some?” she asked.

  “No, I can’t drink that shit. I just brought it for you.”

  “Thanks. I ordered some Chinese, are you hungry?” She walked into the kitchen with the wine.

  “Yeah,” he said, following her. “I would’ve taken you out.”

  “It’s movie night, we have to eat here.” She glanced back at him and tried not to smile when she saw him checking out her legs.

  “What are we watching?” he asked.

  “There’s a new horror movie I want to see, but we can pick something else if you want.”

  “No, it’s your choice, remember, Cupcake?” He grinned as he reached for the corkscrew in her hand and twisted it into the cork. He filled her empty glass halfway and handed it to her.

  “I know, but … I want you to have a good time, too,” she said.

  “Don’t worry, I will. Horror sounds good.”

  Layla curled up with her blue afghan on one end of the couch, scrolling through the menu on her television to find the movie she wanted to order. Ben sat down on the other end, and she tried to remember the last time she’d sat on her couch with a man. She came up blank.

  “This looks so creepy. It’s about a serial killer who traps his victims in his basement,” she said as she clicked on the movie. “Do you want a blanket?”

  “I’m okay, thanks.”

  She reached behind the couch and retrieved a bowl from the sofa table, her eyes still on the screen as the movie started. She sat it on the center couch cushion, scooping out a handful of M&M’s.

  The rhythmic pounding of the movie’s serial killer slowly stepping down a wooden stairway made Layla break out in goose bumps as she remembered the footsteps in her apartment the night before. She reached down to slip Prince an M&M and impulsively moved down to Ben’s end of the couch, climbing onto his lap.

  “Hey,” he said softly, his body stiffening before he relaxed and wrapped a long arm around her back. She pulled the afghan over them and leaned her head into the crook of his neck. His warm sandalwood smell was all she could think of until she felt his hand move to her bare thigh under the blanket.

  His hand was still, but she willed him to move it higher. Every nerve in her body was on high alert from the feel of his fingers on her skin. What would those big, powerful hands feel like running down her back, gripping her hips … reaching between her legs?

  Ben’s voice pulled her attention from thoughts of him touching her.

  “I never got this. Why do people in these movies just sit there wide-eyed waiting to get murdered? Do they not have phones?”

  “I know,” she said, sliding an M&M between her lips. “I always thought that, too. But you know, I think I had this experience last night and I did the same thing. I couldn’t move. It’s why I’m so jumpy watching this.”

  “What experience?” Ben’s voice turned serious.

  “Oh, it might’ve just been my imagination, I don’t know. But I thought someone was in here in the middle of the night. It scared the shit out of me.”

  “What happened?” He leaned back, forcing Layla to lift her head from his chest and look at him.

  “I woke up at 2:30 and thought I heard footsteps in the living room. But there was no one here when I checked the apartment.”

  “Layla.” He raised his brows in a disapproving glare. “Why the hell didn’t you call me?”

  She sighed. “It was crazy, I was too scared to even move. And I didn’t know if I was imagining it or not. I wouldn’t wake you up in the middle of the night just because I heard something.”

  “I don’t care about that, you should’ve called me. Did you have the deadbolt locked?” His stern tone made Layla feel like a child who’d misbehaved.

  “I locked it when I went to bed, but it was unlocked when I checked after I heard the footsteps.”

  Ben’s eyes widened and his jaw tightened. Layla held her breath as she waited for him to speak.

  “God dammit, Layla! Don’t you know how serious this is? Why didn’t you call me? Did you just go back to bed, knowing someone was in here?”

  “No! Prince and I went to a hotel.”

  Ben shook his head and Layla tensed from his admonishing stare.

  “Why the hell didn’t you call me?”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

  “Oh, really? By checking into a hotel and acting like nothing happened? You could’ve been raped or kidnapped or killed. I see this shit at work, you don’t know how sick some people are. This person has a key to your apartment, and you’re not safe here.”

  “This is my home. I won’t be scared off by some creepy asshole. Maybe I’ll get a security system.”

  “A security system?” His voice rose with anger. “That won’t help with someone who has a key. Christ, Layla!”

  “Why are you so pissed?” She swiveled in his lap, facing him. “You’re not responsible for me.”

  “I’m not pissed.” He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “At least not before you get your two weeks, right?” She met his eyes with a smile but got a glower in return.

  “You need to take this seriously,” he said.

  “You’re right. I promise I’ll call you if anything happens again.” She rested her hands on his shoulders and smiled again. Ben’s sulky expression started to soften.

  “I’m not the only one looking forward to my two weeks, am I?” he said, grabbing her hips lightly.

  “You think I’m looking forward to it?” Layla arched her brows with amusement.

  “Yeah. I think you’d like me telling you what to do. I think just the thought turns you on.” His low, sexy tone made her cheeks warm as she ran her hands down the defined curves of his biceps.

  “What would you tell me to do if you were in charge right now?” she asked. Ben’s curled his lips into a smile.

  “I’d tell you to get on your knees and suck me off.” His eyes darkened as he spoke.

  “Oh? So you’re controlling and self-centered.”

  “No. When you were done, I’d strip off all your clothes and fuck you right here on the couch. I’d go slow for a while and make you whimper for more. Then I’d give it to you fast and deep for a while but slow down again before you could come. I’d go back and forth like that so when I did let you come, it’d be so hard you’d forget about everything but the feel of me inside you.” He tightened his grip on her and Layla gasped unconsciously.

  “That might be … good,” she said, letting him pull her hips against his so she was straddling his thighs. His bulge was rock hard beneath her and she suppressed the moan that threatened to come out.

  “It might be? That’s why you’re breathing shallow and your cheeks are flushed?” Ben’s face was so close now she could feel his breath on her lips, and Layla closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, she took her hands from Ben’s arms and pulled her t-shirt up over her head, exposing her silky hot pink bra. His eyes widened as he stared at the curves of her breasts.

  “You’ll get your turn, but right now it’s mine, and I want you to touch me,” she said, running her hands through her dark waves of hair. Ben’s lips parted as he slid his hands up from her hip
s to her stomach, but Layla stopped his hands with her own. “Touch me lightly. Gently.”

  His eyes met hers and she saw a flicker of doubt there. Was he wondering if he was capable of being gentle? She took her hands off his and he slid them, feather-light, up her sides to her bare shoulders.

  She felt the sensation of his fingertips slowly grazing up the back of her neck through her entire body. One of his large hands traced delicately down her spine, and the other smoothed its way back over to her shoulder.

  His breathing was shallow now, too, Layla noticed as he used a fingertip to trace the outline of one of her nipples through her bra. She flushed at the way it stood out immediately under his touch.

  Ben’s fingers slowly and deliciously trailed over her arms, stomach, collarbone and breasts. He stroked her thighs and delicately ran a thumb across her lips. No man had ever taken the time to relish her body this way, and it was creating a deep burn of arousal within her.

  Layla pressed her hands over Ben’s bristled cheeks and leaned into him, brushing her lips against his. He spread his long arms across her back and pulled her body into his. His warm, gentle kiss heightened her arousal, and she unconsciously pushed her hips into his insistently. She felt the deep groan within his chest before it escaped his lips.

  “Layla,” he said softly. It was the way he said it, his voice tinged with reverence, that made her decide seven months – closer to eight, actually – was enough. She wanted him here and now.

  She reached around for the clasp of her bra and Ben’s eyes widened with anticipation. The ding of the doorbell made her jump just before she got it unhooked.

  “What the hell?” she said, still dazed with arousal.

  “The food, maybe?” Ben said.

  “Oh, fuck. I forgot I even ordered food.”

  “For a little while there I forgot my own name,” he said, smiling. “You’re so beautiful when you’re turned on.”

  It didn’t seem like the kind of compliment to thank him for, so Layla was silent as she picked up her t-shirt from the floor. She was shaken by the way Ben had awoken her desire so easily. Though she knew she was playing with fire, she didn’t want to stop.