“I would dare,” he whispered against her ear. “And if my guess is correct, you’re wearing very, very little under that short skirt. Little enough that you’d give everyone in this place a very interesting peep show if I have to carry you out. And while you are many things, Lauren, I don’t believe an exhibitionist is one of them. So, come along now, okay?”
She stuck her tongue out at him, just like the six year old child she’d been behaving like all night, but otherwise didn’t protest when he took her by the arm and steered her outside. He bundled her into a taxi after she sullenly gave the driver her aunt’s address, and then he slid in beside her.
She stared out her window for almost five minutes, obviously pissed at him, before she finally mumbled, “You didn’t have to see me home, for God’s sake. I can take care of myself, you know.”
The impact of her dignified little protest was spoiled when she hiccupped – quite loudly – and Ben couldn’t help laughing despite the truly evil glare she directed his way.
“Well, apparently your sister and brother-in-law didn’t seem to share your opinion,” he informed her. “They’ve been worried about you, along with your parents.”
Lauren snorted. “Well, everyone needs to butt out and let me live my life,” she declared. “And that includes you – boss.”
“If you really mean that,” he replied gently, “then why did you come to my office this afternoon and want to talk?”
She shrugged. “Stupid idea. Call it an impulse, a bad one. And it’s all forgotten now, okay?”
Ben shook his head. “Not on your life. One way or the other you’re going to tell me exactly what you wanted to talk about. Will your aunt be at home when we arrive?”
“No. She’s busy making up for lost time with James this weekend over at his hotel. Guess she doesn’t want me to overhear their, uh, activities. Jeez, between her and my sister it’s a wonder I haven’t been warped for life. They just think they’re being quiet.”
Ben bit down on his bottom life, stifling a rather pathetic little groan as Lauren’s statement brought back memories of exactly how noisy she had been during sex. It was a good thing, he thought wryly, that the nearest neighbor at her place in Big Sur had been too far away to overhear anything.
By the time they arrived at her aunt’s apartment building, Lauren was almost dozing off, and he had to wrap an arm around her waist to help her inside the lobby. The security guard gave Lauren a friendly wave, and nodded at Ben as he half-dragged her to the elevator.
Once inside the elevator Lauren began to giggle, and Ben wondered just how drunk she was to be acting in such an un-Lauren like manner. He kept an arm looped around her shoulders to hold her upright, and at some point he felt her arms slip around his waist, her head drooping onto his shoulder. He tried in vain to ignore how good it felt – how right – to be holding her this way, even though his intentions were strictly honorable.
But those same intentions became a little bit tougher to stick to as Lauren drunkenly pressed one full breast against his arm. He was instantly hard, especially when she began to nuzzle her nose against the side of his neck, her lips brushing the skin, and his body temperature ratcheted up by several degrees. It had been so long, he thought with a silent groan, since he’d been this aroused, this needy for a woman. And sex had never been as good as it had been with Lauren, probably because what they’d shared had been so much more than sex. It had been –
“We’re here!” she announced in a silly, sing-song voice as the elevator doors slid open. “Home sweet East coast home. Follow me, Blue Eyes.”
She grabbed his hand and tugged him down a short, thickly carpeted hallway to a set of double doors. After she fumbled around in her little purse for several seconds, Ben took the bag from her with barely concealed impatience so that he could find the key himself. He shook his head in exasperation when he found it alongside another of Lauren’s switchblades. This one, at least, was much smaller and far less deadly looking than the military issue blade he knew she still took along on trips.
“You really felt a need to bring a knife along to dinner with your sister and brother-in-law?” he asked, deftly opening the doors to her aunt’s apartment. “Were you afraid the restaurant didn’t sharpen their cutlery on a regular basis and you’d need something to cut your meat with?”
“Hah, hah.” She snatched her bag from him as she tottered inside. Ben gave a quick glance around the living room, finding it to be a warm, welcoming space in spite of the overall grandeur of the décor. The initial impression the penthouse gave off was one of understated wealth and pleasing esthetics.
Lauren wobbled over to the built-in wet bar and began opening cabinets. “Want a drink?”
“No.” He walked over to the bar and shut the cabinet door authoritatively. “And neither do you. Unless it’s coffee or tea or something else that will sober you up a little”
“Tea!” she scoffed. “That’s for old ladies and British people. And I really need to get some sleep, as you pointed out. Thanks to cheap-o Nadine and her cut rate travel arrangements. So no caffeine. But I could use a little nightcap, just something to help me sleep.”
Ben shook his head and led her away from the bar. “Sweetheart, you look like you’re going to keel over any second now. One more drink and you’ll be comatose. How about a soda?”
Lauren grimaced and shook her head, one hand clutching her belly. “I’ll pass. I think that ceviche we ate isn’t agreeing with me. Maybe some bad scallops.”
“Why don’t you sit down then?” he suggested. “And take off those boots before you fall over.”
Instead of following his advice, she propped a booted foot on the arm of the sofa and smiled at him provocatively, the short, flirty skirt of her dress riding up high enough to expose the tanned, toned muscles of her thigh. “You don’t like my boots, Ben?” she purred in a throaty voice. “Weren’t you the one who told me I should wear a dress or a skirt more often? And I couldn’t very well wear sneakers with a dress like this.”
He gulped as she ran her hands enticingly over her breasts and ribcage before trailing a finger down her exposed cleavage.
“Lauren,” he admonished, willing his massive erection to subside but quickly discovering that such a feat was a lost cause. “Come on, knock it off. You know this is just the booze talking. And speaking of talking, no time like the present, sweetheart. What did you want to discuss earlier today?”
Lauren smiled, and to Ben the smile looked a bit sad. “Did you know that you’re the only person who’s ever called me sweetheart? Most guys say babe or baby or honey.”
He returned her smile. “And you’re the only woman I’ve ever called sweetheart. But you’re avoiding the subject, Lauren. What did you come to see me about today?”
She lowered her foot to the floor and began to walk towards him slowly, suddenly as serious as he had ever seen her. “I came to tell you,” she began hesitantly, “that I was finally ready.”
“Ready for what?” he asked, puzzled.
She was standing right in front of him now, her eyes half-shut as she whispered, “For you to explain. To tell me about Big Sur. I decided that I needed to know the truth, whether I liked what I would hear or not.”
Ben was startled, because of all the things he’d guessed she wanted to discuss, this had not been one of them. “And what exactly prompted this decision?”
Lauren shook her head. “That doesn’t matter anymore. Because I just decided that I don’t feel like talking right now.”
He sighed, realizing that in her present inebriated state talking probably wasn’t such a great idea anyway. “Okay. I’ll bite. Why don’t you feel like talking anymore?”
She gave a wicked little laugh just before she slid her arms up around his neck, pressing her curvy little body flush against his. “Because I feel like doing this instead,” she whispered, and then tugged his head down to meet hers.
The first brush of their lips against each other felt like a ligh
tning strike, or a flame bursting to life. The kiss was wild, hungry, and definitely dirty, a tangle of tongues as they sought to devour the other’s mouth. He kissed her as though he was starved for the taste and feel and smell of her – because he was. He slid his hands into her thick, tousled curls, holding her head still as one kiss morphed into a second and a third, going on and on. At some point she took one of his hands and drew it to her breasts. He squeezed one full mound roughly, and then could only stare in spellbound lust as she deftly unfasted the halter top of her dress, letting the fabric drift to her waist and expose her gloriously bare tits.
“Christ,” he rasped, his hands cupping her reverently, his thumbs brushing over the erect nipples before bending down to suck one pale pink tip into his mouth.
Lauren’s hands clutched his head close, her breath escaping in short, staccato pants. “God, that’s so good,” she breathed. “It’s been so long, baby. I’ve missed this so much. Missed you so much.”
“Lauren.” Her name left his lips in a groan – or a prayer, he wasn’t sure which. He slid his hands down to her buttocks, holding her still as he rubbed his cock against the sweet, hot notch of her thighs. He was so hard, so starved for her, that it was right on the edge of being painful. All he could think about was tearing her underwear off, getting inside of her as quickly as possible, fucking her hard and fast until they were both screaming in release. And then really getting down to business after taking the edge off a little.
He had just slid his hand beneath her skirt, was barely an inch away from slipping his fingers inside the soaking wet crotch of her flimsy thong, when he felt her pushing against his chest.
“Don’t. Stop,” she pleaded raggedly. “Oh, God, Ben. You’ve got to stop now.”
Her almost desperate pleas finally penetrated his lust-addled brain and he let go of her reluctantly. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he grunted, his body screaming for release and none too happy that he’d halted its progress towards that end.
Lauren clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “Uh, try not to take this personally but – oh, crap!”
She dashed into the kitchen, her heels clacking noisily on the wood floor. She didn’t even bother turning a light on as she rushed over to the sink, and was immediately, rather revoltingly, sick.
“You have got to be kidding,” he muttered darkly. “Talk about bad timing, huh?”
Telling himself – though he didn’t really mean it – that this was all for the best under the circumstances – those circumstances mainly involving his complicated relationship with Elle – Ben heaved a sigh of resignation and followed Lauren inside the spacious, well-equipped kitchen. As she continued to vomit into the sink, he simply held her long hair back until she gave one final shudder. He got her a glass of water and then dampened a dishcloth to wipe off her face.
Lauren was pale and shaky as she rinsed the sink out, and she looked ready to drop at his feet like a ragdoll.
“Sorry,” she croaked. “I blame that damned ceviche. Definitely some bad fish there.”
Ben smiled knowingly. “Yeah, it was the ceviche all right. And maybe a few too many pisco sours. As well as that last round of tequila shots. Ah, don’t forget the red wine.”
Lauren let out a groan and clamped a hand over her mouth again. “Okay, enough. Maybe I did have a little too much to drink tonight. But it was mostly the ceviche.”
“Whatever you say,” he agreed amiably. “Look, you’re obviously in no shape to talk about anything tonight. Not to mention that things got awfully out of control just now. Speaking of which.”
He tried to ignore how badly his balls ached as he clumsily retied the top of her dress, covering up her bare, tempting breasts. But he knew that it wouldn’t be nearly so easy to forget the sight and feel and taste of them.
“Time for you to get some sleep, Lauren,” he told her in his best no-nonsense voice. “After all, you’ve got a busy couple of days ahead of you and that’s even before you arrive in the islands. But you can be damned sure that the minute you’re back I’m finally going to have my say. And for once in your life you’re going to shut up and listen.”
He couldn’t resist pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, the sort of kiss one might give to a small, frightened child. And then he left while the few fragments that remained of his willpower were still intact.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ten Days Later – Andaman and Nicobar Islands
Lauren wondered if she would ever be able to drink enough to forget what had easily been the most humiliating night of her entire life – only to recall that too much alcohol had been the cause of said humiliation. She groaned again, as she had done every single time she’d thought of that awful night in New York two weeks ago – the one where she had made a fool out of herself in too many ways to count.
It had been bad enough that she’d actually gotten drunk – something she hadn’t done for a long, long time. She’d initially blamed her inebriation on mixing alcohol, which she rarely did, and on those damned pisco sours that had admittedly had a real kick to them.
But her humiliation hadn’t ended with her very public exhibition of drunkenness. It had continued – big time – when she’d come this close to seducing Ben in her aunt’s living room, practically stripping naked in the process.
And even that hadn’t been quite enough debasement for one night. Oh, no, then she’d had to go and upchuck rather brilliantly, suffering the added shame of Ben holding her hair back and then wiping her face off. It was the last part, perhaps, that really made her wince to recall.
She wondered now, while sipping a glass of wine and watching the stars come out, how much farther things would have progressed that evening if she hadn’t lost the battle with her overwhelming urge to hurl. Would Ben have called a halt to their hot, urgent, hump-fest? Was he even now regretting what he’d done, feeling guilty because of Elle? There had been no direct communication from him in the two weeks that the crew had been gone. As usual these days, George was the crew’s point of contact and the one to touch base with headquarters.
But Lauren couldn’t help wishing – expecting – hoping - that Ben might have sent her a personal email or called her cell phone to – what? Apologize? See how she was feeling after what had certainly been a real bitch of a hangover? Set up a time to finally have that long overdue talk?
She shook her head impatiently, furious at herself to feel disappointed, and that she had ever allowed herself to feel hope. It couldn’t have been more obvious that Ben deeply regretted their heated make-out session, and that he’d very intentionally not contacted her as a way of re-establishing boundaries between them. He was still with Elle, after all, and even though there had been no announcement of an engagement as yet, that didn’t mean it wasn’t forthcoming. And Lauren had definitely made a fool of herself with her wanton behavior that night, especially since Ben now knew without a doubt that she was still attracted to him. She had no idea how she was going to be able to face him in a couple of days, and even less idea how she could possibly continue to work with him now.
The emails had been drafted for days now. She had typed both of them up her second night here in the islands, and had made daily revisions to the longer of the two. But she’d lacked the nerve to actually press the Send button, knowing there would be repercussions involved when she did.
This trip to the Andaman and Nicobar Islands had been a bittersweet one for Lauren. The crew had made the most of their time here – snorkeling, diving, exploring – and she had loved the wildness of the place, the unspoiled beaches, the spicy, exotic foods.
But always in the back of her mind had been the thought that this would in all likelihood be her last trip with Karl, Chris, and George – her final assignment with the magazine. It all depended on whether or not she had the guts to hit that damned Send button.
The sliding door of the room next to hers opened, and Karl ambled out onto his adjoining balcony, carrying a bottle of some
local beer.
“Thought I’d find you out here,” he drawled, resting his arms on the balcony railing just as she was doing.
She shrugged. “Our last night here. Might as well enjoy it. When we get back to New York in a couple of days – literally, thanks to our fantastic flight arrangements – it will already be autumn. Summer will be over.”
“Not for long,” reminded Karl. “When it’s autumn in New York, it’s spring in other parts of the world. And you can’t stop the seasons from changing, kiddo. Nothing stays the same forever, you know.”
Lauren reached across the low ledge that separated their balconies and hooked her arm through his, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Don’t remind me, you jerk. We’ve had a good thing going these last few years – you, me, and Chris – and now you want to spoil it all.”
Karl chuckled, pressing a brotherly kiss to the top of her head. “Matter of opinion, Your Majesty. I can tell you that my new wife has a very different point of view.”
She shook her head. “Don’t forget I’ve been caught in the middle of too many of your epic battles over the years. How in hell are you going to actually live together?”
“I’ll admit the thought has me a little worried, to,” replied Karl. “But ever since Tam found out she was pregnant, our whole relationship has changed. It’s like we both decided at the same time to put aside our individual issues and focus on raising our kid the right way. We decided,” he added somberly, “that it was finally time for both of us to grow up.”
Lauren stuck her lip out in a pout. “Well, hell, where’s the fun in that?” she joked. “Maybe some of us don’t want to grow up, you know?”
“I know,” Karl told her gently, squeezing her shoulder. “But like it or not, kiddo, it’s time. At least for me and Tam. Having a baby is serious stuff, and I can’t continue taking the risks involved when we go on these trips.”
Sensational Page 35