She Runs Away (The Sheridan Hall Series Book 2)

by Jessica Calla

  On her side, she traces her hand over her body from her neck, down over her chest, to her stomach and over her hip. It lands between her legs. “Please come here.” Her voice is a soft moan.

  I bolt from the door to the bed in less than a second. “You win, Sweet Meg.” I kiss her, and she smiles under my lips. I hold her face. I have no more pride, no more resistance.

  She traces her finger over my lips, and when I try to take it in my mouth, she pulls it away, down my chest. “I’m sorry.” I don’t remember why I wanted her to apologize.

  Her hand moves over my stomach to my hard-on.

  “Apology accepted,” I mumble, as I cover her smile with a kiss.

  Megan keeps her grip and we flip. She straddles me and asks, “Does this mean the contract is back on?”

  She grins as her hair falls over her shoulders, and her blue eyes gleam down at me. She has all of the power. She knows it, and I couldn’t care less. I just want her. I’ll take what I can get, and what I’m getting is pretty good. Even though I want to scream at her to forget the damn contract, for some reason, it makes her feel safe. “Oh, hell yeah. The contract is back on.”

  Megan

  Ben does everything I ask him to do and it doesn’t take long for me to fall apart. He’s so eager to please, which I completely appreciate. Even though we match on the dumb questionnaire, we match in the sex department too. As soon as I touch him, it’s pretty much over for me. I touch his chest and I’m halfway to orgasm.

  This time though, after I come, I ask Ben what he wants.

  “Anything?”

  I put on my best sexy face and lower my voice. “Anything.” I mean it too. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t try with him. “Tell me what you want.”

  He responds by grabbing my hips and flipping me onto my stomach. Ben’s weight and warmth cover my back, and he leans over me and pushes my hair away from my neck. He nibbles my ear and whispers, “I want you to go out with me.” Then he enters me from behind.

  I can’t form words so I respond with a moan. He’s so sweet and sexy that it’s an effort to stop myself from yelling yes in response to his request. He moves inside of me, deeply, slowly, but just as I’m ready to come again, he stops.

  I try to move myself back toward him, but he won’t let me. His hands grip my hips. “Please.” I twist to see if he’s okay.

  He’s watching me, his eyes heavy. “Go out with me,” he breathes. “You said you’d do whatever I want. Go out with me.”

  I sigh. “Not fair.” He can get anything he wants from me that way.

  He pushes into me, hard, pulling my hips back to his body. With one amazing thrust, I’m back to the brink. “Say yes,” he demands and freezes again.

  “Fine. Yes.”

  He bends over my back again to kiss my neck, and his teeth move against my skin. He’s grinning against me. “You’re so fucking hot,” he murmurs before finishing what he started.

  Afterward, Ben spoons me in his little bed, and I think about him calling me a chicken shit earlier. He’s right, I know. I want to keep everything safe and inside of me, and I’m afraid showing my feelings, especially to him, will be risky. I think about the letter waiting for me in my drawer. I start to panic that it’s all too much. Ben’s suddenly too much. The letter is too much. I need air.

  “Ben?” I ask quietly.

  “Hmm?”

  “I need to get something.” When I try to sit up, he tightens his grip. His hand rubs my hip.

  “No.” He keeps me close. “I’m not letting you up.”

  I roll over so that we’re facing each other. “Open your eyes.”

  He does and kisses my nose. “You’re not going anywhere. I want you to stay here.”

  “But that violates the—”

  Ben interrupts. “If you say the ‘c’ word, I’m going to lose my shit.”

  “You know, you’re a little bossy. What you did during sex was sneaky too.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s the only play I could come up with. It worked.”

  “Yeah, I guess it did.”

  “Don’t run away tonight. You feel good to me, Megan.”

  I have to admit, not running away after is kind of nice. “You feel good to me, Benjamin.”

  As good as Ben feels, I can’t help thinking, stupid, stupid girl. I’m falling into Ben quicksand, and I’m never going to be able to climb out. For tonight though, in this post-sex euphoria, I’m happy. I settle against his body and shut my eyes.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ben

  Now this is more like it. Holding Megan close to me, burrowing my nose in her hair, relaxes my mind, but not so much my body, which, obvious to both of us, wants more of her.

  Though Megan fidgets in bed with me, I hold her near me anyway, enjoying the feel of our skin against each other. I grin into her hair, amazed she’s my ninety-fiver. Amazed at how I knew every answer about her before the questionnaire. All fall, we watched football, so obviously I knew she’s a Mustangs fan. Big Joe is her favorite player. “He’s a Smith like me,” she’d said, which looking back now was the perfect answer. She didn’t lie. With her in my arms, I can’t help but think we are made for each other. Now I have to convince her.

  As I think about ways to convince Meg of things, I squirm, adjusting my dick so it’s not poking her in the back. In the process, she turns to me, her eyelids heavy.

  “Put that thing away,” she murmurs.

  “Are you offering me a place for it?”

  She rolls onto her side, and I spoon her again. “Too tired.”

  I hold her while she settles, trailing my fingers down the side of her thigh. That she’s not bolting for the door is a miracle.

  As if she could read my mind, a few seconds later, her body tenses under my arm. “Ben?”

  Here it comes. “Hmm?”

  “I need to get up.” Yep.

  I don’t move. “No. Stay with me.”

  She rolls over to face me again, but I don’t open my eyes. She pokes my shoulder. “I need to get something.”

  “You can get it tomorrow. Go to sleep.”

  “I promise I’ll come back.”

  I open my eyes to study her. She looks awake, alert. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I swear,” she says. “I want to share something with you, but I need to get it from my room.”

  I stare, not sure if she’s bluffing. Her eyes are wide and her face soft. I release my arms, taking the risk. “If you’re not back in five, I’m coming to find you to drag your cute ass back here.”

  “Jeez, Bossy Ben. I’ll be right back.” She kisses my nose and rolls over me, taking half the covers with her then wiggles into her pajamas.

  When Megan leaves, I stand and stretch, throw the sheets back on the bed, and find a pair of boxers and a tee shirt. I dig out two water bottles from the tiny fridge buried in the bottom of my closet and sit at my desk, waiting for her.

  I almost don’t believe it when she opens the door a few minutes later, holding a couple of envelopes. One I recognize as the letter from the day she passed out.

  I hold my hands out to her and welcome her into my lap. “Thanks for coming back.”

  Megan sits in the chair with me and puts her arms around my neck. Then she apologizes.

  “Why are you sorry?” I ask.

  “For making you feel like you have to thank me for coming back. I’m the worst.” Megan’s eyes fill with tears.

  “No, no, no.” I lift my thumbs to her cheeks and run them under her eyes. “Don’t cry.”

  She tilts her head into my hand. “I know I haven’t told you this, but I really like you. I do.” I wipe away the tear that falls down her cheek.

  “I’m glad.” I squeeze her closer, settling in on the chair.

  She snuggles onto my lap. “I’m sorry I’ve been a head case. I’m trying. I want to try.”

  “Good. I’m not going anywhere, so take as long as you need.” It’s my subtle way to let her know I want to be w
ith her for the long haul, not like how I acted that damn night in September.

  Soon, she sits up and presents the letters. “I don’t know which one to show you first.” She hands me the one I recognize from the day she passed out. The one addressed to “Amelia.”

  I take it but don’t open it right away. I squeeze her tighter, and she rests her head on my shoulder without remembering it’s my scarred shoulder. The way her cheek warms me takes the pang of the injury away. I use my free hand to brush her hair back over her neck. “What does it say?”

  “You can read it.”

  “I’d rather you tell me.” I’m pushing it, I know, but she seems willing to share tonight. It’s a good night to push. She sighs and tries to stand, but I hold her to me. “Just tell me.”

  The next few seconds feel like hours. I half expect her to run out the door.

  Finally, she settles and talks. “I grew up without a mother. My dad raised me with a lot of help from my aunt and uncle.” She takes the letter from my hand. “My real name is Amelia. Megan’s my middle name.”

  I already knew some of that from my research. When I nod, she continues.

  “I thought my birth mother was dead. I didn’t really ask and my father didn’t offer any information, and I had enough of a family with the three of them that I never wanted to know. Anyway,” she continues, finding my eyes, “the day after Valentine’s Day, when I left you to have breakfast with my dad, he told me my birth mother is alive. Not only that, but she’s trying to find me.”

  “Wow. That’s big.”

  She fidgets, so I loosen my grip on her. She stands and paces, and I turn in the desk chair, following her movement. “Both my dad and my uncle seem to think she’s a bad person, that she’s out to get me or them. She’s threatening to reveal something he doesn’t want out there. Mostly, he seems worried about me.”

  She stops to look at me. “But then she wrote me this letter. That day when I passed out, the day with Dave.” She waves the letter at me. “I saw ‘Amelia’ on the letter and had a panic attack or something.”

  “Oh, Sweet Meg.” I walk to her and steady her with my hands on her waist.

  “At first, I couldn’t open the letter. I just let it sit there in my drawer. I tried to forget about it, but it kept invading my mind, you know?” Her voice shakes as she watches my face.

  I nod. “I understand. You were freaked out, surprised, nervous.”

  “Stupidly, I opened it right before we went to The Study.”

  “Ah.” I cringe. “That’s why you were… touchy… that night.”

  “That’s why I was a raving bitch that night. But once we got to the bar and you stood with me and I felt you behind me, I was okay.”

  Sweet Meg. “Then Carly showed.”

  “Yeah, her.” She shakes her head. “But Ben, in the letter my mother says my father has been purposely keeping me from her, that she’s been trying to get in touch with me for years, but he won’t let her.”

  I see the pain in her eyes. I know her dad and her uncle are the only people she has in the world. That he would betray her and drop this bombshell must have been heartbreaking and nerve-racking for her. My fix-it tendencies kick in, and I reach for her. “Oh no. I know how close you are.”

  “Who would do that?” She waves the letter at me again. “I mean, what if my dad is some monster?”

  I pull her into my arms. “Hey, hey,” I whisper. “You know your dad, better than anyone. You know he’s not a monster. Did you tell him about the letter?”

  Megan digs her forehead into my chest and speaks to the ground. “I haven’t talked to him. I was going to meet him, then I didn’t. I want to talk to him, but I don’t. I’m mad at him for lying about her existence, for waiting eighteen years to tell me and then springing this on me now, after Frank. For making my uncle and aunt lie to me. I don’t know. I’m mad about everything.”

  “Good.”

  She jolts upright. “Good? How is any of this good?”

  I pull back to catch her gaze. “It’s good that you’re mad. Get mad. Yell, scream, whatever you need to do. The truth is out. Now we’ll work on fixing it.”

  Megan tilts her head, studying me. “Fixing it? I’m telling you that my life is a mess right now, Ben. I may have a crazy person stalking me. My entire support system is breaking down around me—”

  “No, it’s not.” I grab her hands. “You have me. I mean it. I want to help, if you’ll let me.” My voice cracks, and I’m nervous that at any second Meg could totally freak and bolt for the door. I push the limits and add, “We’re a team, right?”

  She peeks at me out of the corner of a big blue eye. “I’m usually a solo act. I thought my dad was on my team. Now I have no idea.”

  “Be on my team.”

  When she bites her lip and shifts her weight, my heart speeds, and my breathing is the only thing I hear. I’m not certain she’ll say yes.

  She squeezes her eyes shut and opens them again. “I’ll try. How about that?”

  I bob my head in a weird nod. “Okay. I’ll take that. Trial teammates.”

  Megan smiles, and then she takes the Amelia envelope and switches it with the plain, unmarked white one. “Speaking of teams.” With a huff and an audible sigh, she hands it to me.

  I raise my eyebrows. “Tell me what it says.”

  Megan shakes her head. “This one you have to look at.”

  Megan

  Ben stands before me, ripping open the envelope. I bite my lip and wait for the usual reaction as he pulls out the picture of my dad, in uniform, holding a five-year-old me.

  “Big Joe Smith.” Ben holds the picture close to his face. “Great pic. Who’s the kid?”

  I scrunch my nose and raise my hand. “Um, that would be me.”

  Ben smiles, moves the picture even closer to his face, and studies it as I ramble. “I don’t tell people he’s my dad because they get all weird. Especially guys. Especially football fans. You can imagine, right?” He doesn’t answer. “I’ve lost a lot of friends, some boyfriends, because they can’t handle it. They bother him, they bother me about him. Some use me to get to him. Not to mention he’s a total control freak over my life. He’s had boyfriends investigated. It’s just easier not to tell.”

  Ben puts the picture back in the envelope and puts it on his desk, and then he grabs my hands. “I knew.”

  “Excuse me?” I must not have heard that correctly.

  “I knew. I sort of figured it out.”

  I lift my eyebrows and snort. “I know you’re a huge fan. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because you didn’t tell me so I figured you didn’t want me to know. And because I don’t care who your dad is.”

  “But you love Big Joe Smith!” I point to his dresser. “You have his jersey!”

  He smiles and moves toward me, and then he squeezes my nose. “I like you more.”

  “Huh. That’s… wow.” I’ve never heard that in response to my big reveal. I study him, wondering if he’s teasing.

  His eyes dance, and he taps his foot. Finally, he looks at me and shrugs. “What?”

  “You’re trying so hard to contain yourself. It’s adorable.” I stand on tiptoe and kiss his lips. “It’s okay. You can react. I’m his fan too.”

  Ben breaks out into his full-blown, world-filling, giant, white smile. With his big hands on my ass, he hoists me up off the floor. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he stands there, grinning, holding me to him. He hides his face in my neck, and his beard scratches my skin, making me tingly. “Holy shit, Megan.” He laughs into my neck.

  “Go ahead. Do it. You passed the test with flying colors.”

  Ben lifts his head and furrows his brow. “And it’s Smith, to Pisko, for the CHAMP-ionship,” he yells in a low vibrato. It’s the call that defines my father’s entire career. People say it to him on the street. They always add in the hiss of the crowd afterward; Ben’s no exception. “Do you know what a fanboy I am of your dad? I can’t bel
ieve I just said, ‘your dad,’ and I’m talking about Big Joe.”

  He carries me to his dresser and opens a drawer. Sadly, it’s not the drawer where he keeps his condoms. It’s his shirt drawer. He pulls out my dad’s jersey and puts me on the floor, placing the jersey over my head. I wiggle into it. “Tell me everything. Is that where you went every weekend during the season? To the games? Have you been to the Championship?”

  I bite my lip as his brown eyes search my face. His excitement makes me hesitate, and I hope I didn’t just cause the end of something I’d just taken a step to start. “I’ve been to every Championship since I’ve been alive. I’ve been to every stadium. Met lots of people you’d be interested in, I’m sure. I have a VIP pass to all the Mustangs’ home games, and when they’re away, I hang with my dad at the studio. My life is pretty much centered around football.”

  Ben’s jaw drops, and I lift his chin to close it. “And now, here you are. My very own football player.”

  He shakes his head and takes a step back. “You really are the perfect woman. I’ve found the perfect woman. She’s my neighbor and she’s spending the night with me.”

  I smile. Ben calling me “perfect” after dating Juliet makes my insides warm. “Don’t go getting too weird on me. I’m not perfect because of my dad.”

  “Oh, Sweet Meg.” He buries his face in my neck. “I think you’re perfect whether your dad is Big Joe or the devil himself. But, the fact that he’s Big Joe is pretty damn amazing. I have a ton of questions. I’m kind of excited over this. Can you tell?”

  He leans into me, and yes, I certainly can tell how excited he is. I wiggle against him. “Wait until I tell you who my uncle is. You may have an orgasm.” Ben kisses me, and his hands tighten over my ass, holding me to him, pressing into me. He’s hard and ready.

  “I think I can figure out who your uncle is, but my brain can’t process all that information at once, especially without the necessary blood flow. I’m on overload.”

  He kisses my collarbone and I drop my head back and laugh. “Overload, huh?”

  When Ben pulls my hips into his, I wrap a leg around him to create even more friction. “Definitely overload,” he murmurs. “Orgasms first, then you tell me about your uncle?”