by Tessa Bailey
Chapter 16
HONEY HAD DRIVEN this particular back road thousands of times in her life, but nothing looked familiar now. She drove straight into the potholes she’d been taught to avoid since age sixteen, when she’d gotten her license. In the early evening haze, the rooster mailbox signaling her nearest neighbor’s driveway looked like a foreign object. The steering wheel didn’t operate as she’d come to expect. It probably had something to do with Ben sitting in the passenger seat beside her, his warm hand resting high on her thigh, just beneath the hem of her shorts. His steady perusal of her body had turned her nipples into stiff, pointed peaks. She couldn’t force enough air into her lungs to slow her breathing to a normal pace.
The place she was taking him was sacred. Was she taking a risk? Half of her best memories had taken place there. If she and Ben went their separate ways, would each and every one of t/hem be shadowed by that failure? At that particular moment, she couldn’t question her decision, though, because lust gnawed in her belly. Her sole purpose in life just then was to relieve this relentless, sweaty longing that wouldn’t leave her alone. Would never leave her alone as long as Ben was in the vicinity. There was no denying that. Her body knew what his felt like, the heights it could bring her to, and she didn’t have the kind of willpower it took to deny herself.
Ben moved closer on the bench seat and placed his mouth on her neck. “Calm down before you kill us both.” His unexpected comment surprised a laugh out of her and he echoed it, although both of the sounds were strained. He pushed her hair away from her ear and breathed against it. “How much further?”
“I should know the answer to that, shouldn’t I?”
His hand slid to her inner thigh. Higher. “Distracted?”
She exhaled hard. “Payback is a bitch, you know.”
He began to knead her thigh. “Oh no. You’ve more than paid me back in the distraction department. Just by existing.” His teeth teased her earlobe with a firm tug. “But I’m anxious to see what you think could be more distracting than this body.”
Their destination was up ahead. She just had to get them there without combusting. “You’ll find out soon enou—” She cut off her own words with a moan as Ben pressed his fingers to the seam of her jean shorts, right over her clit. “Oh God. I’m going to wreck the truck.”
Ben made a sympathetic noise. “You soaked right through your panties to your shorts, babe?” He worked his fingers in a circle. “When did this happen?”
She didn’t have the wherewithal to be anything but honest. “In the barn. I just wished we’d stayed in the barn and done it then and there instead of waiting. I don’t know how you do this to me.”
“Oh yes you do. You do it to me, too.” He removed his hand from between her legs, untying the shirt beneath her breasts and unbuttoning it with impatient fingers. When her breasts bounced free, his hands moved over them possessively. “All day, walking around with no bra. Back and forth between the house and the barn. My dick has been so hard for you, I can’t remember my own name.”
“Well, it’s Ben.” She pulled off the road and onto the field, hitting the brakes and throwing the truck into park. “Professor. Ben. Dawson.”
His jaw flexed. “Oh, now you’ve done it.” He jerked open the passenger side door with such intention that all she could do was watch him round the front bumper, anticipation twirling like a ballerina in her stomach. She managed to take off her seat belt before he yanked the driver’s side door open, took her by the waist, and pulled her out. A warning voice in Honey’s head told her that if she let the inevitable kiss happen, he would have control of this entire encounter and she wanted the control. He’d been commanding her senses and brainpower all day, and she needed to call some shots before she drowned in him.
Letting her pent-up sexual frustration fuel her, she grabbed him by the front of his T-shirt, reversed their positions, and shoved him up against the car. Oh, he liked her being aggressive. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and watched her, waiting to see what she’d do with the reins she’d taken. She lifted the hem of his thin cotton T-shirt and scrubbed the heel of her hand over his abs, before going lower to snap open the fly of his jeans.
When her palm brushed over his erection, his head fell back and hit the car on a groan. As she unzipped his pants, she leaned in and licked the column of his neck. “Whenever I fantasized about you during class, I pictured you wearing a tie when I did this.”
“Did what?”
Honey gave him a sly smile in response. Having succeeded in undoing his pants, she slipped her hand into his boxer briefs and stroked his heavy arousal. “You asked me earlier about my favorite position.”
“Tell me,” he panted. “Say it.”
She placed her mouth over his ear. “On my knees.”
Ben twined his flexing fingers in her hair as she knelt. “Oh God, you know I want that mouth, babe. Just enough to let me feel it this time, though. I’m too hot and fucked up for you to last long.”
The truth of his words was thick and swollen in her hand. She’d only done this with one other guy, so she didn’t have the expertise to know when one was hurting. Maybe it was her undefinable connection to Ben or some instinct he’d awoken in her, but she knew in her core that his desperation not only matched but outshined hers. Ben was in serious need of relief. Having the power to give it to him went to her head like a shot-gunned bottle of champagne.
She ran her thumb up the smooth underside, following in its wake with her tongue. Ben’s stomach hollowed on a sucked-in breath above her. “Again. Please, again.”
Honey granted his wish twice more before taking the head into her mouth and inching her way down, wetting his length as she went, making him slippery, easier to take. Each time she took him deeper, she sucked her way back up, hand working in time with her mouth. Ben groaned and cursed above her, harsh, filthy words she’d never thought to associate with him, her by-the-book English professor.
“Thought about this in class, did you?” His hips began undulating, seeking the pleasure of her mouth. “I guess we both have the same favorite position, because I always fantasized about kneeling in front of your desk, spreading your legs and sucking your clit.”
She moaned around his flesh, her clothes suddenly feeling way too confining. One hand continued to worship his erection along with her mouth, while the other dropped to unsnap her jean shorts in anticipation of getting them off. Ben must have heard the sound, because one of his fists released her hair to dig in his pocket, pulling a condom out between his index and middle finger. One second, she was on her knees with Ben in her mouth, the next she was on her back in the grass, the denim shorts being ripped down her body, along with her panties. Their hands were everywhere, groping, stroking. The silence of the falling twilight was broken by rough breaths, urgent requests. Honey took the condom from Ben’s hand and tore the corner open with her teeth, but her wrists were pinned above her head before she could roll it down his hardness.
Her back bowed off the earth with a cry when Ben began sucking her nipples. Hard, hungry pulls that strengthened the pulsing between her legs. Keeping her wrists pinned with one hand, he rested the other on the apex of her thighs, not moving it, just teasing her with its proximity to where she needed him to touch.
“Ben,” she gasped. “Please.”
He ceased his torture of her breasts to lift his head. “You want me to finger bang you, Honey?”
“Yes. Yes.”
His eyes locked on hers as he drove two fingers inside her. Oh God. She was going to come. Going to come. But she couldn’t, because his touch didn’t move, granted her no friction. Her hips lifted and fell in a plea, but he didn’t grant her request, choosing instead to study the movements of her body like one eyed a juicy steak. “If you move like that when I’m inside you, babe, I will fuck you all the harder.”
Honey moaned, head tossing in the grass. Drowning. She was drowning. This was what she’d been afraid of, even if she’d secretly wante
d to be overwhelmed by him. But she couldn’t take another second of the agony. Reaching deep for the willpower, she extricated her wrists from Ben’s strong grip and surged up, flipping him onto his back. His eyes flashed, jaw slackening. Encouraging her without words. Her limbs were shaking, pulse hammering. She couldn’t think past having him inside her.
The truck’s headlights were still on, partially illuminating his handsome features, the muscular chest he’d exposed by removing his T-shirt. His gaze was feverish as it devoured her body. An image flashed in her mind of what she must look like, naked and straddling him, just outside the glow of the headlights, but his commanding voice broke through her thoughts. “Don’t keep me waiting, Honey. Not after the way you sucked me so good.”
Fingers shaking, she reached between them and rolled the latex down his shaft. She wasted no time sinking down onto him, pausing halfway to breathe before sliding him home. The muscles in her stomach tightened to the point of pain, so intense she fell forward, catching herself with two hands on his shoulders. “Oh my God. Feels too good.”
Ben lifted his hips, bouncing her a few times. “Does it fill you up nice and tight?”
“Yes,” she whimpered, starbursts exploding behind her eyes. She had no choice but to move at that point or risk combustion. Her hips moved on their own, as if they were independent of the rest of her body. They snapped up until she was poised on the tip of Ben’s erection, before scooping back down. His fingers had such a tight grip of her ass they had to be causing bruises, and she reveled in that realization. He was beneath her, head thrown back, chanting fuck fuck fuck in time with her bucking movements. She’d never felt more herself in her entire life, so damn alive it hurt to breathe. Twice she slowed down to stave off her inevitable climax, but the third time it loomed close, she let it take her, embracing it with her whole self. Her scream sounded distant, but it vibrated through her body, making itself known.
Then she was moving, shifting. Ben was still locked inside of her, rigid and thick, with her legs wrapped around his waist. He kept their bodies connected as he moved to his knees. Her body bowed backward over his hard forearm, hair tumbling into the grass. He thrust into her over and over, using his supporting arm to slam her body down to meet his driving hips.
“This is what we both needed, isn’t it? A dirty fuck in the grass. Get up here.” He jerked her upright so they were eye to eye, mouth to mouth. Being impaled once again on his lap, her hips automatically began to circle, eager and quick. Ben’s hands on her ass urged her even faster. He pressed her mouth to her ear. “Your ex-boyfriend never fucked you this good.”
“No.” She threw her arms around his neck, hips pumping frantically. Oh Jesus, had he gotten bigger inside her? “No. Never.”
Ben raked his teeth over her shoulder. “That sweet, wet pussy never came once for him, did it?”
“No,” she sobbed, her actions growing jerky. Again. She was going to orgasm again. “Ben.”
“I’m the only one who belongs inside you,” he growled. “Show me why, babe.”
She tightened her thighs around him and ground herself down as the climax shook through her. Her scream was swallowed by his hungry mouth as it claimed her, tongue pushing her lips wide to tangle with hers. His big body, plastered so tightly against her, began to shudder. He ripped his mouth away with a shouted expletive, eyes squeezed closed as his release took him.
Chapter 17
ONE OF THE most irritating parts of majoring in English had been the constant encouragement to express one’s feelings. Picking English had been a no-brainer for Ben. He’d anticipated critical response papers, arguments in favor of popular theories. Perhaps the occasional assignment that would require him to pull from his own life experiences. Instead, he’d been constantly subjected to stream of consciousness writing exercises. Creative projects that had forced him to use examples of his own past experiences. Experiences he had no wish to revisit. More often than he’d been comfortable with, certain prompts had been given in his creative writing courses.
Write about a defining moment in your life. Write about what’s important to you.
If he’d known then what he knew now, lying in a field with Honey Perribow tucked into his side, his answers would have been vastly different. Until meeting Honey, he’d never been afraid to lose anything. He’d lost everything as a child and he’d survived. Sure, his career was extremely important to him, but he’d only protected it because losing it would make him too similar to his father if the worst happened. But he’d never been afraid. He’d never been shaken by the idea of having to find a new job.
Nothing scared him as much as the idea of losing Honey did. This eight-foot-high electrified fence that had existed inside him as long as he could remember had been breached. She was inside his perimeter. Inside him. If he had to live indefinitely without this feeling, he’d be scared every morning. Scared to walk around without the fence at full strength, an open wound right in the middle of his chest.
Oh yes, he’d write those papers differently. A defining moment in his life? Realizing bigger things were at play than his useless insecurities and fear of the past repeating itself. When you found something that made you feel so much you could hardly stand it, that was the thing that counted. When the thought of being without someone well and truly scared the shit out of you, you decided not to be without that person, no matter what it took. So what was important to him? Keeping the person who made him feel. Keeping Honey. Making goddamn sure she had the same feelings for him. Working his ass off to make sure she never stopped having them.
Enough for tonight. If he kept up this line of thinking, he’d need to say the thoughts out loud. They might have just screwed each other’s brains out in the sex session of his life, but he wouldn’t take for granted that he was out of the woods. If he wanted to build a relationship with her, it needed to be on a foundation of more than sex. Un-fucking-believable, sweaty, tear-your-hair-out sex, yes. But still. He needed her to know him. Trust him. And he needed to achieve that without shaking her and demanding she let him keep her.
“Where are we?”
A breeze rolled over them, blowing a few strands of her hair across his face. “My baseball field.”
“Your baseball field?”
Honey hummed in her throat. “Mmm hmm. I built it.” She raised her head and looked around through one squinted eye. “Looks like we landed in the outfield.”
“The place where all your thoughts and secrets get swallowed up by a discreet blue sky.” He quoted her assignment without thinking. When Ben felt her staring—probably because he’d just let it slip how pathetic he’d become over her—he quickly changed the subject. “Tell me about this place. When did you build it?”
Her fingers drew circles on his stomach, making his eyelids feel heavy. “This place was just weeds and beer cans until my parents and I cleaned it up. Spent hours and hours out here.” God, her voice was soothing. Soft and easy. “They wouldn’t let me join the Little League because I was a girl, so I started my own. Right here.” She paused for a while, and he sensed she was gathering her thoughts. “This place. It’s the thing I’m most proud of in the world.”
His throat tightened. “Thank you for bringing me here.” She nodded against his shoulder but didn’t say anything. As if she hadn’t just crawled up inside his heart and put down permanent roots. After reading her latest paper, he knew baseball was important to her, but now he understood why. He felt humbled to be included in any way, and he wanted to return the favor. By opening up and talking about the past. Things he usually preferred to keep to himself but couldn’t any longer. Not if he wanted her to see him and know him. “Honey, there’s a reason I did what I did back in New York.” When she stiffened a little, he pulled her closer. “A reason, not an excuse.”
“Tell me,” she said eventually.
Ben swallowed his nerves. “I told you my father played for the Patriots.” She shifted so she could look up at him, but having her eyes on him was c
omforting rather than disconcerting. “We lived in a huge house with an indoor swimming pool. Gardeners, maids. Things nobody needs.” He shrugged. “And then one day it was all gone. He’d slept with an underage girl, and it was just everywhere. Pictures of them together. Video.”
“Oh, Ben . . .”
“He just kept repeating, ‘She lied, she lied,’ but it didn’t matter. He didn’t seem to realize that. Our family was being torn apart. Who cared if she lied?” He took a deep breath. “Only, it must have stuck with me, Honey. It makes me sick that it did. Makes me sick that I let something that happened fifteen years ago have anything to do with us.”
She was completely still against him. “I lied to you. That’s why—”
“That was only part of it,” he rushed to say. “I know what happens when a man loses his judgment. I’ve seen it. Before I met you, nothing could threaten what I had. Nothing made me feel strongly enough. You did. You did, and I thought if I pushed you away, I’d save myself. But I ended up doing the opposite. Watching you get into that cab . . . I didn’t survive it. I was dead until I got here and saw you again.”
Her breath hitched. She used his chest for leverage and sat up to stare out at the baseball field. Ben followed suit, ready to beg in order to find out what was going on in her head. Thankfully, she didn’t keep him waiting too long. “I am a threat, though, Ben. It’s all good and well to play house while we’re in Bloomfield, but if—when—I go back to New York, I’m still your student. What happened to your father could happen to you, and it would be my fault.”
“No.” His heart pounded. “It won’t happen.”
“It easily could.” She plowed her hands through her hair. “What are we doing here, Ben?”
He got in front of her and laid a hand over her mouth. “I can’t lose my job. Or I can. But it wouldn’t matter, because I’ve just accepted a new position at NYU. This morning, anyway.” Her eyes shot wide over the top of his hand. What did that mean? “As soon as we get back, I’m going to hand in my notice at Columbia.” Not an ounce of nerves accompanied that statement. “You might need to drop my class until the semester is over, babe. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize you.”