He gently shook the concoction and poured it into their glasses. He came around the counter to hand the drink to her. He stepped close to her, closer than he’d been to her since they left the hotel room in Palm Springs.
She’d forgotten how much taller he was than her, how he’d towered over her, even though she’d fit so well in his arms and against his body. She stared at his chest. She remembered how it felt against her cheek, how his arms felt around her.
“Anna.” She looked up to his face. His eyes were serious, but that smile still hovered around them. “What are you doing here?”
She held her drink with both hands. The chill of it made her shiver. Or maybe it was the intense look in Ben’s eyes. But she couldn’t look away.
“What do you mean?” she asked, even though she knew exactly what he meant.
He moved even closer to her.
“Saturday morning, you texted me that what happened in Palm Springs between us could never happen again. Okay, I get that. Then on set for the past few days you haven’t looked me in the eye. All right, I’m not going to push myself on you if you’re not interested. But then today you asked me to get a drink, and I don’t know why. Or why you’re here, in my apartment, looking at me like that, and standing there being who you are and looking like you do, if you don’t want me to touch you. Because I haven’t touched you, but holy God, it is taking everything in my power not to. So I need to know. What are you doing here?”
He hadn’t touched her at all, she realized. Not a hand on her back as they walked up the stairs to his apartment, not when he’d showed her the deck, not even when he’d given her the drink.
“What if I’ve changed my mind?” she asked him before she stopped to think about it.
His eyes bored into hers. She had no idea how, just minutes ago, she’d been chilly from the icy drink and the weather outside. Her whole body felt flushed, on alert.
“If you’ve changed your mind,” he said, not moving closer to her, “you should probably put that drink down right now, so it doesn’t fall to the floor and shatter when I rip your clothes off.”
She looked down at the drink in her hand, and then carefully, deliberately, set it on the counter. She looked up and met his eyes.
Before she could say anything, his hands were on her. He pushed the V of her sundress down and to the side, and with his thumbs, pulled her bra down until her swollen breast and hard nipple popped out of it. He smiled, his thumb and fingertip caressing her nipple until she moaned.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for days,” he said. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about. I just wanted to touch you, here, and here.” He moved his other hand up the inside of her thighs and slid a finger inside her underwear. “I’ve been wanting to do this with my fingers, and with my mouth.” He pushed her backward onto the counter and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She whimpered.
“That noise. I’ve wanted to make you make that noise since Friday morning. My God.” He went back to her breast and licked and sucked until she thought she was going to go wild. He pulled her underwear to the floor and kicked it to the side. She grabbed his head with her hands, pulled him to her, and kissed him hard. Why had she said they couldn’t do this again? She couldn’t remember now.
He put his hands under her hips, and before she even knew what he was doing, he lifted her onto the counter.
He smiled at her, that devilish smile she’d only seen from him in the hotel room in Palm Springs, and pushed her knees apart.
“If I remember correctly,” he said, “I heard you make that noise a lot when I did this the last time. Let’s see if I can manage it again.”
She braced her hands behind herself and watched him push her dress up and bend down. But then, before he even touched her, he stood back up again.
“Wait, just to be clear,” he said. “Is this one of those things we couldn’t do again? I just wanted to double-check.”
She glared at him.
“Fuck you.”
He grinned.
“Was that a no? Because . . .”
Before he could say anything else, she grabbed his head and shoved it between her legs. She could feel him vibrating with laughter. Once he was safely where she wanted him, she let herself grin. From the very beginning, this guy had made her laugh. Of course he would make her laugh while they were having sex, why would she expect anything else?
As soon as his lips and tongue touched her, though, she stopped laughing. He clearly had paid attention to what she’d liked when they’d been in that hotel room. Then he’d tried different things, touched her in different places, sometimes soft, sometimes hard, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. She’d enjoyed it all, but now he was doing all of the things that made her slide her fingers into his hair and writhe and moan and finally throw her head back and shout.
He stood up, grabbed her by the waist and lifted her down, and then smiled at her. He looked very proud of himself.
“You never showed me your bedroom,” she said. “You didn’t give me a tour at all; we just walked in and went straight to the deck.”
He pushed her hair back from her face.
“Do you have literally any idea how much I wanted to get you in my bedroom?” he asked. “I was trying not to be an asshole and lead you there as soon as you walked in here!” He looked so outraged and rumpled and sexy.
She pulled him down to her and kissed him. He wrapped her in his arms, like his arms had been waiting for her to come back ever since she’d left them last. Or maybe it just felt like that, because she’d been wanting this, more of this, since then, even though she’d told herself it was impossible. She could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed her back, as he danced his tongue against hers. In Palm Springs, their kisses had felt rushed, like they knew they were living on borrowed time, like every kiss could be their last. But this, this was the kiss of two people who had kissed before and knew they would kiss again. Of two people who not only liked kissing each other, but liked each other. She hadn’t had a kiss like that in a long time.
He slid his hand up to cup her cheek, and the tender touch of his hand on her face made her heart turn over. She ignored that and just kissed him, enjoyed the hardness of his body, the way her curves fit snuggly against his chest, that way he rested his hand on her hip, in the same way he’d done before. Like he liked that part of her body, appreciated it, couldn’t keep himself from touching it. She’d noticed that touch before, and she loved that he was doing it again now. She ran her hands up his back, under his shirt, feeling the warm, smooth skin there. She remembered when she’d woken up in the middle of the night next to him and kissed him softly on his shoulder blade; he’d turned over and opened his arms to her without even waking up.
“Can we go to the bedroom now, please?” he whispered in her ear.
She kissed his cheek and took his hand.
“Lead the way.”
* * *
—
Ben walked with Anna down the hall to his bedroom. At every moment, he was afraid she’d shake her head, change her mind, put her panties back on, and leave.
But instead, she reached for him again, as soon as they got into his bedroom. He slid his hands up her body, backed her up until she hit his bed, and gently pushed her onto it. She fell backward and laughed, and he climbed on top of her and trapped her hands beneath his.
“Here’s what I’m wondering,” he said.
She looked up at him, with that same look she’d had in Palm Springs, that look full of heat. When she looked at him like that, he would do anything she wanted.
“What are you wondering?” she asked.
“I’m just wondering why you still have so many clothes on,” he said.
She gave him a slow grin.
“I was waiting for you to take them off of me.”
He smiled.
“Let
me take care of this first.”
He jumped to his feet, dropped his pants and underwear to the floor, threw his shirt across the room, and then rolled back on top of her. She was already laughing.
“Do you always take your clothes off that fast?” she asked him.
He moved down her body until he got to the hem of her dress.
“Only when I need to,” he said.
“Oh, you needed to,” she said.
He slowly pushed her dress up to her waist, as she gave him a look so hot he felt like he was going to catch on fire. Her fingers trailed over his shoulder and back, and he wished she could touch him forever. He dropped kisses on her knee, her thigh, her hip, her belly, as he moved up.
When he stopped, she let out a quick sigh.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t want you to stop,” she said. Even though he knew she was enjoying this—knew from her moans and sighs and shakes when he’d gone down on her in the kitchen—he felt a burst of triumph at that. He wanted her to want this as much as he did. To want him as much as he wanted her.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “I wasn’t going to stop.” He sat back on his heels and looked down at her. “But we need to get the rest of this dress off of you. It’s hiding two of my favorite things.”
She pulled the dress over her head, unsnapped her bra, and tossed it to the side.
“You mean these?” She cupped her breasts, a huge smile on her face.
He crawled up her body until his head was level with her chest.
“Mmm-hmmm.” He sucked one nipple into his mouth, then rubbed it between his finger and thumb. He’d noticed that she liked it a little rough. He was happy to oblige.
“Has anyone told you”—he repeated that move with her other nipple—“that you have just fucking incredible breasts?”
She tossed her head back so her hair spread out on his pillow.
“Not in quite a while,” she said.
“Well.” He bent his head down and took tiny bites up one side of her breast, then let his tongue circle around and around her nipple until he sucked it in, hard. Her hand ran down his back and cupped his ass, and he grinned. “I’m happy to make sure you know it.”
Her hand slid from his ass to his hips, and then she wrapped her fist around his hard cock.
“Please,” she said. “I need you.”
That was all he wanted to hear.
He lunged up to his nightstand and grabbed a condom out of it. As quickly as possible, he rolled it on as she watched him.
“Now,” she said.
He thrust inside her. Good God, she felt amazing. This time there were no slow, gentle, getting-to-know-each-other movements at the beginning. She rose to meet him, and they moved together, hard and fast. They both moved like they’d been dying for this, like they hadn’t been able to think about anything else for days, like they might never get it again. And when they came—first her, then him, as he felt her contract around him, they both shouted with joy.
They collapsed afterward, in a tangle of arms and legs, too out of breath to move. Finally, Ben kissed Anna on the cheek and lifted himself up a few inches.
“You wouldn’t be hungry, by any chance, would you?”
She turned to him, a sleepy, sated smile on her face.
“I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate that question. I absolutely could be. What do you have to eat?”
He smiled.
“Tell me what you want, and it’ll appear. Didn’t I tell you I’m magic?”
Eleven
They ate delivery sushi and drank wine naked in bed, and then curled up together to watch a show on Netflix. Anna couldn’t help herself from sharing all the gossip she’d heard about the actors with Ben, who at least pretended to be interested in all of her behind-the-scenes details.
She knew she should leave and go back to her hotel, she absolutely knew that. But she was so comfortable here, in Ben’s big warm bed, with Ben’s arm around her, and her head on his shoulder, that she just couldn’t move.
Finally, after three episodes, she forced herself to sit up.
“I guess I should head back to my hotel,” she said.
Ben sat up, too.
“You don’t have to. You can stay.” He looked at her, then fiddled with the sheets. “I mean. If you want.”
She did want. But she shouldn’t . . .
Oh, fuck it. Why shouldn’t she? This was the first time she’d been relaxed and happy and actually having fun in two years, other than a few short moments with Penny. Plus, the shoot was only for a few more days, and she’d be back in L.A. and he’d still be here in San Francisco and they’d never see each other again. So she might as well enjoy this while it lasted.
“Sure, I’ll stay,” she said. “I have to be up pretty early tomorrow, though—I’m having a breakfast meeting with my manager. I get the impression from your yawns when you arrive on set that you’re not much of a morning person—is that going to be a problem?”
He gave her an outraged look.
“You dare to accuse me of not being a morning person? Just because I may not be able to speak a word to anyone else before I drink an entire cup of coffee does not mean I’m not a morning person! I love mornings! I just love to observe them from my bed, that’s all.” He grinned at her. “But for you, I’ll manage to pull myself together and drive you across town at the ass crack of dawn.”
She handed him her wineglass.
“Then yes, I’ll stay. And fuck it—I’ll take more wine, too.”
She admired his naked ass as he walked out of the room, and then his naked everything else as he walked back in.
Suddenly she realized something he’d said.
“You don’t have to drive me to my hotel in the morning. That’s what car services are for.”
He shook his head.
“Oh no. I know you’re famous and stuff and don’t remember how this works, but car services are all fine when you’re being picked up at your hotel, or your expensive gated home, but not if you’re being picked up at six-something a.m. on a random street in the Mission. Someone will definitely take a picture of you in your clothes from the day before and your hair not done, and I know you don’t want that.”
Right, of course. And also, how was Ben more knowledgeable and understanding of her need to have a glam squad before she went out in public than any man she’d ever been with—including the actors, all of whom were more vain than she was?
“Okay, fine, but I’ll owe you one for that. Don’t let me forget it.”
A very wide, very dirty smile spread across his face.
“Oh, I won’t. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.”
She smacked him on the shoulder, and he laughed.
As she was falling asleep, she thought about what she’d said. That she owed him one implied they’d do this again. She knew she should regret saying that, but instead, she felt gleeful.
She woke up the next morning, Ben’s hand on her hip. His touch did so many things to her—last night it had thrilled her, intoxicated her, but today it soothed and comforted her. That night she’d slept with him in Palm Springs, she hadn’t slept well, which was pretty common for her. But last night, she’d fallen asleep so fast, and slept so well. Maybe it was that she’d been yearning for human touch for so long, and Ben was so good at that. She’d noticed that about him early on—he was always touching shoulders, or clapping people on the back—but only people he had a relationship with, people who appreciated it. He hadn’t touched her once, though, until she’d made it very clear she’d wanted him to. And that made that heavy, warm hand on her hip feel all the more earned.
She turned over and nestled her head into his chest. His arms came around her, even though she could tell from his breathing he was still asleep. She knew it mus
t be time to get up soon, but instead she breathed along with him and let her whole body relax. She didn’t think about the Varon film, she didn’t think about Vigilantes, she didn’t think about her dad’s health. She just breathed in and out, in the circle of his arms.
Too soon, her alarm went off. Ben slowly opened his eyes and looked down at her.
“It feels very early,” he said.
“It is very early,” she said. “But I have to get back to my hotel to meet my manager before I have to be on set, remember?”
He brushed her hair back from her face and landed a kiss on the top of her head.
“I remember. Unfortunately.” He yawned, then pulled her in for a tight hug before getting out of bed. “I’ll be ready in a second, I promise.” He gestured to the door. “You take the bathroom first.”
She jumped out of bed and went to the bathroom. She peed, splashed cold water on her face, brushed her teeth with the travel toothbrush she always kept in her tote bag, and pinned her hair up into a bun.
When she got back into Ben’s bedroom, he was fully dressed, and her clothes from the day before were piled neatly on his bed. He’d even found her underwear.
“You’re fast,” she said.
“Lots of practice,” he said with an exaggerated wink. She had to laugh at how corny he was. Even in the five a.m. hour, this guy could make her laugh. Ridiculous.
He disappeared into the bathroom, and she threw on her clothes and looked at herself in the mirror.
Her hair was still messy, her eyebrows were barely visible without makeup on, her dress was wrinkled, and she had an enormous pimple on her chin. But she looked . . . happy. Actually happy, for the first time in a long time. She’d had a whole afternoon and night where she’d barely looked at her phone, where she hadn’t worked or thought about work, where she’d just relaxed and talked to Ben and had sex and watched Netflix and eaten food and had more sex, and those sixteen hours had been the best vacation she’d had in a long time.
Ben smiled at her when he walked back into the room.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
While We Were Dating Page 15