Cupid's Mistake

by Chantilly White

  It was too soon for the 'where are we going' talk, but she couldn't stand the uncertainty any longer. Not after the heightened intensity of the past couple of weeks. The sexual frustration kept her blood on a constant boil. The heat was liable to incinerate her if they didn't do something about it. Soon.

  She really wanted to kiss him again.

  Besides, it was starting to interfere with her work. Ben was all she could think about. She'd never had a man take over her mind so completely. So effortlessly. How many times had she caught herself staring into space, her hands hovering motionless over her keyboard while a detailed fantasy starring herself and a naked, sweaty Ben played out behind her eyes, a cat-in-the-cream smile curling over her lips?

  So they'd talk, and she'd make it clear she was ready for more than hand holding. And she'd be waiting for him tonight when Sally got home to release him from babysitting duty, no matter how late.

  She dressed carefully but kept the exterior casual, her unbound hair falling down her back in spirals nearly to her waist. Dark jeans rode her hips. A close-fitting navy-blue sweater with a deep V-neck, minimal makeup. Blue suede kitten heels, because casual did not mean tennis shoes when one was hoping to seduce a man. And underneath, matching sapphire satin-and-lace panties and a demi bra that did amazing things to her breasts. She might not be as well endowed as Mia, but she did all right with what she had. Satisfied, she spritzed her perfume behind her ears and added her favorite Celtic knot earrings.

  Nerves jumping higher than she wanted to admit, she cast an assessing glance around her bedroom. After fluffing her pillows, she rearranged the candles on her dresser. Then put them back. Arranged them again. When she caught herself shifting them a fourth time, Allison mentally shook herself, set the trio of tall vanilla tapers firmly in place, and took one deep breath, blowing it out through her lips in a short burst of exasperation. When was the last time she'd taken such care in setting the stage for sex? But this was about more than a physical connection. The night required romance.

  Soft music waited in her CD player, and the rest of the house was tidy as usual, thanks mostly to Ben keeping up on everything while she was sick. She moved the flowers from her kitchen table to her room as a final touch, stopped her fingers from nudging the candles once more, grabbed her keys and headed out, her stage set.

  The short walk to Sally's house, another small rambler like her own, calmed her nerves, and the cool night air helped reduce the heated flush dewing her body with anticipation. It was always better to know where she stood than to guess and worry and wonder, so regardless of the outcome. . .

  No, that wasn't going to fly. This outcome mattered. She'd just have to make sure it was the one she wanted.

  Lifting her hand to knock on Sally's front door, the sound of high-pitched giggling from the other side of the wood paused her hand in mid-knock. The kids were still up.

  Okay.

  Readjusting her immediate plans, she plastered a smile on her face and knocked anyway. A crash, a squeal and a muffled crap! reached her ears. What on earth was going on in there?

  "Hold on," Ben's voice sounded through the door. The velvet-over-tumbled stones raspyness of his deep timbre sent a shiver over her skin.

  Then he opened the door, and all her tingle-inducing strategies for the evening disappeared in surprise, followed by an inelegant snort of laughter.

  "I'm sorry," she choked out, "I'm looking for a Ben Turner. You must be his sister, Benjamina?"

  "Ha-ha, very funny. Get in here before anyone else sees me like this." So saying, he reached out and yanked her off her feet so she fell against his chest just inside the doorway.

  Still giggling, she pushed back to get a better look at him as he slammed the door behind her. The frilly pink apron that probably reached to mid-calf on Sally covered his torso to just below his jeans-clad crotch, while a frothy pink boa wrapped around his neck and trailed feathers over his dark red shirt. A sparkling tiara perched jauntily on his head, and huge, glittery pink earrings dangled from both ears. She flicked one delicately, sending it swinging against his neck and earning a lowered brow and a glint in Ben's sharp green eyes that promised retribution later.

  But that was nothing to the shiny Barbie-pink lipstick covering his mouth in a wild swipe or the inch-long false nails—pink again, of course—stuck haphazardly to the tips of his fingers.

  "Now who's a princess?" she asked with an angelic smile. Ben grimaced.

  From the family room behind them, Sally's daughters chorused, "Hi, Allison! Come have tea with us and Uncle Ben!"

  The girls, Megan and Marissa, ages eight and seven, were similarly attired, with the addition of pink high heels on their feet and lacy white gloves on their hands. Their tiaras perched at sassy angles on top of heads covered in curly brown hair a shade lighter than Ben's.

  Allison patted Ben on the chest and said, "Jeff would be so proud." Giving him a wicked smile, she turned to the girls. "Coming right over. Do you have a tiara for me?"

  "Of course, silly," Marissa said, hauling one out of a huge bag beside her chair.

  "Here, you can wear my gloves," Megan added, handing them to Allison, "I have more in my room!" With that, she dashed down the hallway and was back in a flash, new gloves in place. "Sit by me," she instructed, patting the seat next to her. "Uncle Ben can sit on the floor, 'cuz he's a boy."

  Smirking only a little, Allison looked him over from head to toe. "Are you sure?" she asked, and made the girls laugh.

  "Demoted by a chromosome," Ben muttered, arranging himself on the floor at Allison's feet. "Okay, you two, one more round, then it's off to bed. Your mom'll skin me alive if she gets home and you're still awake."

  Megan leaned toward Allison and stage whispered, "He's cranky 'cuz we beat him at Mario Kart again."

  "They cheat," he said to no one in particular, lifting a tiny plastic teacup full of water to his lips, pinky finger appropriately raised to the side.

  Ben pursed his lips to sip from the cup, and Allison thought, Oh, I'm in trouble.

  Any doubts remaining as to her feelings for this man fell off the mental shelf she'd stuck them on and shattered at her feet in that moment. She, who prided herself on her casual attachments, who had more male-conquest notches on her lipstick case than any three of her friends combined, had tumbled head over heels for a man she'd kissed exactly twice, a man she hadn't even slept with. A man whose bare skin she hadn't even touched.

  Her family intuition might have set the stage, but this sweet, tender slide was all hers. Love, pure, unconditional, powerful, crested in one long, lovely swell of emotion, overflowing every boundary. A flood of feeling, sweeping away uncertainty and fear, leaving only elation in its wake.

  For the first time in her life, Allison took the fall. She was in love. With Ben.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  Another hour flew by before the girls finally settled into bed after much giggling, a little grumbling, and many mock ultimatums from Ben. But when he threatened not to read to them, they hopped in their beds with the covers pulled beneath their chins as though they'd only been waiting for him to sit down with the book.

  Still giddy with her realization, Allison had hardly been able to sit still through the end of the tea party and the beginning of the bedtime ritual. Now she watched from the girls' bedroom doorway, tenderness bursting in her heart. Was there anything more endearing than a giant of a man dressed in little-girl finery and reading a storybook, complete with individual character voices? Megan and Marissa stared at him with rapt attention, adoration shining from their sweet brown eyes.

  They fell asleep before he finished the first chapter.

  Pulling the door partly closed so the nightlight in the hallway would still be visible if either of the girls woke, Ben pinned Allison in place with the weight of his stare, that one-sided up-tick pulling his mouth into the smile she'd come to adore. She leaned against the opposite wall, studying him head to toe. He was so huge, he filled the small space. She wanted
him to fill her. To surround her, overwhelm her, never let her go. The power of her feelings for him left her reeling. Less than two months, and her entire world had turned upside down.

  Incredible.

  Because scary words like 'commitment' and 'forever' wanted to babble out of her mouth, she went with the safe topic.

  "You're really good with them," she said, nodding to the girls' bedroom door.

  He shrugged. "They're good kids. Going through a rough time with their dad pulling their affections every which way, but they'll figure it out eventually. It hurts Sally, though."

  "It's lucky they have you."

  Ducking his head, Ben shrugged again. "I'm lucky, too."

  Allison nodded, one fingertip running along the edge of her sweater's V-neckline. Ben's eyes traced the movement, following the course of her fingertip into the shadow of her cleavage, as she'd intended. Hoping Mia was right, she prepared to make the first move. They'd danced around each other long enough, had worn out phase one of the dating ritual. It was time for phase two.

  "I want to kiss you, Benjamin," she said huskily, and watched his eyes flare, "but I'm afraid I'll smear your lipstick."

  "What? Oh." With a half laugh, he covered his mouth with his hand. "Hold that thought. I'll be right back."

  Snugging herself into a corner of the family room couch, she didn't have long to wait before Ben returned, his hands and face scrubbed clean and his body divested of the princess gear.

  He sat close beside her, the length of his hard-muscled thigh pressed tightly to hers. He took her hand in his giant one. Bringing it to his mouth, he kissed her palm and sent electric shocks tripping along her nerve endings. "You were saying?"

  With the softest of touches, she raised his hand in turn and pressed her lips to the center of his. Ben's arms came around her carefully, as though he held a delicate flower and feared bruising her petals. Allison shifted closer yet, until she leaned fully against him, his warmth searing through her clothing. His heart pounded hard in his chest, a driving beat beneath her ear, and it made her smile.

  He would discover before the night was through that she was not so fragile. There was a time for tenderness and care, and there was a time for urgency. For wild, unrestrained desire. Need, demand, passion. They coursed in her blood, a primitive command. She would take him there, through all the peaks and valleys of pleasure, the sweet and slow and the hard and fast.

  But first. . .

  Allison rose to her knees to drape her arm across his shoulders. She feathered her fingers through the ends of his hair, the silky texture flowing warm and smooth over her skin.

  "I was saying," she began, shifting closer to him, resting her breasts deliberately against his arm, "I want. . ." and closer still, "to kiss you."

  Breath held, she leaned in, pressed her mouth to his. The jolt, hard, unmistakable, tore along her spine, immediate and overwhelming. The sudden tension in Ben's body told her he'd felt it, too.

  With one smooth twist, he wrapped his big hands around her waist and lifted her to straddle him. The width of his body spread her legs wide over his lap, and the slide of her thighs along the outsides of his shot heat spiraling from her core. He brought her to rest against the heavy bulge straining the front of his jeans, need meeting need, and she gasped. His mouth opened under hers and his tongue delved, sweeping inside to pillage and claim, taking control of the kiss.

  Yes, yes, yes.

  Surrender had never seemed so sweet. No man in her memory had affected her the way Ben did with a mere glance, a touch of the hand, a smile. He owned her with a brush of his lips.

  Hands wrapped tightly around his neck to anchor herself in the chaotic whirl of sensations rampaging through her system, Allison gave herself up to the storm. Ben surrounded her with his brawn, engulfed her with his heat. His arms banded her to him. Her breasts crushed against the powerful plane of his chest. The muscles in his thighs bunched, rock hard beneath her buttocks.

  Only the tiny voice reminding her of the presence of children in the house stopped her from ripping his shirt from his shoulders and fastening her mouth on his naked skin. Gentling the kiss with effort, she rested her forehead against his chin, breath heaving.

  "Wow," she said, huffing out a weak laugh. Ben hmmm'd in agreement, his chest rising and falling in rapid gulps for air. If there was an emergency, she wasn't sure she'd be able to stand, much less run. All the muscles seemed to have melted from her bones.

  Cupping his face in her hands, Allison searched his eyes. There were no words between them yet, no promises, but she read what she needed to see in the depths of hot, needy green.

  "Ben," she said, nipping desperately at his mouth, "I want you to come home with me tonight. When Sally gets back."

  He stroked his hands down her sides, searching her eyes in return. "It's going to be hours still," he said, toying with her lips with his own. Testing, tasting, nibbling ever so gently. "You'll be sleeping."

  "I'll wait."

  "I can't ask you to do that," he murmured against her mouth. "You need your sleep."

  Couldn't he feel her heart racing? Sleep would be impossible. "I'm—"

  The sound of the garage door opening interrupted, and they jumped apart like guilty teenagers. Catching each others eyes, they both laughed nervously, but straightened up and tried to look innocent when Sally came striding in, frustration in every line of her care-worn face.

  "Oh," she said, drawing up in surprise. "I didn't know you were here, Alli. How are you?"

  "Good. Thanks." Please, God, don't let me blush. "I just came over to say hi to Ben and ended up staying for a tea party."

  "No one says 'no' to the tea party," Sally acknowledged with a tired sigh.

  "Everything all right, Sal?" Ben asked, looking his cousin over with concern. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon."

  "Yeah, we got done early. Or, well, we didn't, but it's fine, just some loose ends we'll have to take care of next week. Thanks for watching the girls. I'm beat, though, so you two excuse me if I head straight to bed."

  They made agreeable noises, and Ben said, "I'm just going to walk Allison home. I might stay for a while."

  Sally raised an eyebrow at him but only nodded, evidently too tired for the witty comebacks she was known for. "All right. Have fun."

  "'Night, Sally," Allison said.

  Waving at them both, Sally stopped to check on the girls, then disappeared into her own room at the end of the hall. Her door closed quietly. Allison and Ben looked at each other in silence. Matching smiles spread.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

  The night air floated California cool, lightly fragranced by the potted winter daphne on Sally's front porch. The neighborhood hunkered still and dark, aside from a few widely-spaced streetlamps and the diffused moonlight shining dully through low clouds. There were stars beyond those clouds, ones that would never be seen from here, not even on a clear night, as they'd have to compete with the millions of manmade lights on the ground.

  Of all the things Ben missed most from his years of traveling, it was the sight of a billion stars blazing in a sky untouched by smog or interfered with by the lights of large cities. He missed the penetrating silence only found so far from modern man.

  Maybe he would take Allison there someday, to one of the quiet places he'd found. To the staggering, untouched beauty that almost hurt the eyes in its purity. He pictured her there, on a bed of green, her bright copper hair wild around creamy shoulders and naked breasts. Her dark blue eyes melting into his. She staggered him, every bit as much as those magical places.

  It was a short walk between Sally's house and Allison's, but they strolled slowly, hand in hand, savoring the night. The feel of her delicate fingers in his warmed him with contentment, though his pulse still raced with anticipation.

  He had not mistaken her invitation.

  When they reached her door, she turned, rested against the white-painted frame.

  "Ben," she said, her voice low, smoky in the n
ight air. "You're a big man. Strong." She ran a hand lightly down the length of his right arm. Her touch made him yearn. "You cared for me when I was ill. You've seen me at my weakest, my worst."

  "Alli—"

  "Shhh," she whispered, pressing two fingers to his lips. "These past few weeks have been. . . have meant a lot. The way you've helped me. Been with me. But I'm better now." Her hand stroked back up his arm and onto his chest, coming to rest over his heart. She lifted her eyes to his, held his gaze. "All better. And I've been waiting."

  Stepping forward, she stood mere inches from him, both hands pressed flat against his chest. Allison tilted her head, maintaining eye contact. Even in the dark, the electric blue seemed to sizzle, full of secrets and passions and female power.

  She raised on tiptoe to nip his chin with her teeth, and her hands slid up, up the sides of his neck and into his hair to pull him in for a kiss, warm and sweet and light. The touch of her plush mouth added a kick to his speeding pulse.

  "I want to make love with you, Ben," she said, the words falling so softly from her lips, he felt more than heard them. Her breath coasted over his skin, sweet and hot. "Don't make me wait any more. Please."

  Her kiss, her words arrowed through his belly to his extremities, then straight to his groin. His body lit up, electrified, as though the chains of his restraint had been struck by lightning and burned to ash. Common sense urged caution. It was still too soon, they didn't know each other that well. They were so different. But his soul disagreed. He knew her, and he'd already waited far too long.

  "Allison. . ."

  Pulling her against his body so she wouldn't fail to notice the hard length of him pressed into her belly, he tightened his arms around her and held on. Six years of near celibacy had passed in a blur. The memory, the loneliness faded into nothing against the hard blend of love and lust sitting tight in his belly, twisting his insides the way it had since their first date.