by Ann Lister
Sydney stopped working and maneuvered onto her back. To her surprise, Ben never lifted his mouth from her skin. As she rolled, he pulled his tongue across her skin, leaving a wet trail glistening in the sunlight. He skimmed over her hip and stopped beside her belly button.
“Ben, what are you doing?”
“Am I bothering you?” he asked.
“It feels nice but…”
“Nice? I was hoping for a stronger reaction than that,” he said, sliding up beside her. He put his weight on an elbow and fanned his fingers over the exposed skin on her stomach.
Sydney reclined on the towel and gazed at him. She reached to stroke the side of his face.
“You make me feel so many things, Ben. I wouldn't know where to begin to try and explain it.”
He inched closer, quietly studying every detail of her. The sun splashed across her face and made the fluid pools of her sapphire eyes shimmer. Her hair blew softly and framed her face like a painting. Seeing her laying beside him took his breath away. She absolutely captivated him in every sense.
“I'm in love with you, Sydney,” he said.
Shock floated through her eyes.
“Maybe I should have waited to say that,” he said. “But, seeing you here right now…I don't know, the moment seemed right.”
Sydney slid her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down and kissed him.
For several minutes he was contentedly absorbed in the sheer pleasure of her mouth, until he felt Sydney pushing on his chest. He rolled onto his back in the sand and Sydney slid a leg over his hips to straddle him.
“Are you going to give me another lap dance?” he asked.
Sydney arched forward toward his mouth. “Do you want one?”
His hands went to her hips. “Anytime your body comes in contact with mine, it's a beautiful thing. It's like being struck by lightning. It hits fast but the after-burn is bliss.”
Sydney smiled at him and stood from his lap, holding out her hand for him. “I'll give you a lap dance later,” she said, and pulled him to his feet.
“Is that a promise?” he asked.
Ben took Sydney to a local restaurant in town for dinner called The Crab Shack. It was popular among the locals year-round but it was especially crowded during the tourist season. The restaurant was right on the beach with an outside deck for dining or socializing. It also had a larger, inside dining area which had a small stage in a corner for live entertainment. The menu specialized in Maryland blue crabs, cooked in a variety of ways and a long list of other local seafood.
When Ben and Sydney arrived, the place was already near capacity. Even still, Ben was escorted to a table out on the deck overlooking the beach. He ordered a pitcher of beer and a pile and a half of steamed blue crabs.
Ben reached across the table and took Sydney's hand, entwining his fingers with hers. She was wearing a pale yellow halter top that accentuated the pink of her skin from their afternoon in the sun and another short skirt with bare legs beneath it. There wasn't a man in the place that hadn't taken notice of her when they arrived.
He caught her gaze and held it. He couldn't believe she was actually sitting there with him, that her smiles were for him. He swallowed hard and squeezed her hand. He couldn't remember ever feeling this way about a woman. He felt relaxed and peaceful for the first time in his life.
Sydney stared back at him, emotion twinkling in her eyes. A soft breeze moved his hair around his shoulders. The sun had lightened the color of it, making his tan appear darker and his green eyes even more powerful. His eyes bore into her, speaking quietly, saying the most intimate things and making it nearly impossible for her to maintain eye contact with him.
He was dressed in a white, short sleeved, linen shirt and a pair of tight, faded blue jeans and leather sandals on his feet. His shirt was unbuttoned half-way, exposing the dark skin of his chest. He was beyond sexy and he wasn't even trying. It simply exuded from him naturally.
The waitress returned with a pitcher of beer and two glasses. Ben quickly filled both glasses and handed one to Sydney. While they waited for their food, Ben signed a few autographs at the table, but it was Sydney that had his full attention. Every move she made, his eyes were glued to her, never leaving her for more than a moment.
After their food arrived, Ben spent the next several hours tutoring her on the art of shelling crabs. When the work became too daunting, he did the shelling for her and fed her chunks of the delicacy with his buttery fingers. It was the most erotic meal she had ever eaten.
At dusk, the deck became illuminated with tiny white lights and scented votive candles on the table. Inside, a reggae band took the stage, sending their sensual rhythms vibrating throughout the restaurant. Several patrons around them began dancing. Sydney watched the people and smiled. She had never felt this happy. It was all so perfect. She felt Ben squeezing her hand again and looked at him.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked in a deep, sultry voice.
She nodded and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He maneuvered her to an empty spot near their table that was barely large enough to stand, never mind dance. Then, he draped her arm around his neck and slid his hands across the exposed skin on her lower back. His face dropped to her neck. She could feel his lips taunting the skin there, his breath warming her from the inside out. He used his hands to tip her pelvis toward his and began moving her against him, reflecting the beat of the music, swaying to match the rhythm.
He was talking to her, his lips brushing the skin below her ear, but she was oblivious to what he was saying. For all she knew, he could have been speaking a foreign language. It was the vibrations his voice was stirring on her skin that was making her knees weak. Her fingers drifted into his hair and tugged, then his mouth found hers and fused and everything around them became invisible. The friction their bodies were creating was all they could concentrate on and Sydney was having trouble standing upright.
“Ben, I think we should leave before we get thrown out for lewd behavior.”
“Lewd is my favorite kind of behavior.”
He took her back to his house and lit a fire in the stone pit on the deck, then poured two glasses of wine. He stretched out on a double-wide lounge chair and reached for her hand.
“Sit with me,” he said, and moved to make room for her.
She sat down beside him and nervously crossed her bare legs at the ankle.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked, and kissed her cheek.
“The fire feels nice.”
He raised her hand and brushed his lips across the knuckles, sighing loudly.
“I had a great time with you today,” he said.
“I did, too,” she said. “It was perfect.”
“That's exactly what I was thinking.”
They cuddled on the lounge chair for several hours, talking endlessly about everything and nothing, until Sydney finally stood up.
“If I'm going to get up early tomorrow, I should probably get some sleep,” she said.
“What happened to you staying up all night to see the sunrise?” he teased.
“I'm more tired than I thought I'd be,” she said.
Ben followed her upstairs and embraced her in the hallway. He never pushed her to join him in his room, even though he sensed she wanted to. Instead, he watched her shut the door to the guest room and went to his room alone. He stripped off his clothes and put on a pair of loose pajama bottoms, then went to his deck and reclined in another double-wide lounge chair.
He closed his eyes and tired to bury the urge he had to join Sydney in her bed. He wanted nothing more than to slide up against her beneath the sheets. His body was positively aching for her. He turned his face toward the guest room deck and watched as the room fell to darkness.
He rubbed at the fatigue in his face and tried to concentrate on the crashing surf below him, but above the noise of the incoming tide he heard his name. He turned around and saw Sydney. She stepped out of his darkened bedroom a
nd onto his deck. He jumped at the sight of her. She was wearing a white satin robe that was so short it nearly made him choke.
“Jesus! You scared the hell out of me,” he said.
“I didn't mean to,” she said softly, and shifted nervously where she stood.
“I saw your light go out,” he said. “I figured you'd be sleeping by now.”
“I couldn't sleep,” she said, her gaze dropped to her feet.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded and turned to face the ocean.
“Do you want to sit and talk some more?” he asked, and held his hand to her.
“I was wondering if…maybe we…”
Ben stood up from the lounge and stepped beside her. His fingers combed through her long hair, trying to get her to look at him.
“Talk to me,” he said. “Tell me what you want.”
“I'd rather show you.”
Sydney took his hand and began gently tugging him back inside his bedroom. She stopped beside the bed and untied her robe. The garment fell from her shoulders and coiled around her ankles. Beneath the robe she was wearing a nightgown that matched the robe. Her hands went to the hem and lifted it over her head. She dropped it on the floor beside the robe. She wasn't wearing panties.
Ben embraced her, almost overwhelmed with the heat and smoothness of her bare skin. Her fingers went to the waistband of his pajama bottoms and tugged until they slid below his thighs and pooled around his feet.
He eased Sydney back onto his bed and rolled beside her. They lay against the piles of pillows at his headboard, face to face, lightly touching each other. He pulled her close and brushed his lips over her mouth. She trembled slightly in his arms. He kissed her again. Her mouth opened for him, the tip of her tongue reached for his. The rush for him was instant and swept through each of his limbs. He closed his eyes and moaned her name.
His lips moved down her throat, then onto her breasts, lighting tiny fires at every spot his mouth made contact. Her nipples responded to the heat and attention of his tongue. He kissed his way lower, crossed her stomach and settled at her center. He paused and rubbed his cheek against the soft triangle of light brown hair.
He inhaled loudly, then nibbled on her inner thigh and dragged his tongue toward her heat. When his mouth covered her, she sat up on her elbows.
“Ben…”
He rolled his head and glanced up at her, his hands fanning across her lower belly. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, with more than a hint of disappointment in his voice.
“I've never done this,” she said.
He tipped his head and studied the color in her cheeks, the heavy rise and fall of her chest, her fists clutching at the bed sheets. His lips slowly curled into a smile and he eased a finger into her wetness. She sucked in a long breath and closed her eyes.
“Lay down for me, baby,” he sighed, and began kissing her in the most intimate way possible.
Sydney dropped onto the pillows and arched her back. She opened like a flower before his eyes. He had never seen anything so beautiful. It was art in its purest form.
“I found your other tattoo,” he said, finally sliding up beside her. “Who's the lucky bastard that inked it?”
Sydney touched his face and ran her fingers over his lips. “The artist in question is a woman. I went to art school with her. She's done all of my body art.”
Ben pulled her closer, nuzzling his nose to hers. “No one has ever tasted you?” he asked.
Sydney blushed and shook her head.
“I thought you said you slept with a couple of guys in college.”
“I guess they weren't as creative as you seem to be.”
Sydney reached between their bodies and grasped onto his erection. Ben sighed into her mouth.
“Are you going to make me come in your hand again?” he asked.
“I will if you want, but I had something else in mind.”
She turned onto her back and pulled him with her. He fell easily into the cradle between her legs, his hardness pulsing at her opening. He pushed the hair off her forehead and held her gaze.
“Sydney, are you sure about this?” he whispered.
She nodded and slid her hands down his back, stopping on his hips. Her breath was coming in short ragged bursts.
“Do you want to be on top?” he asked.
“Like this,” she said. “Just go slow.”
Ben tipped his hips forward and started pressing inside her. He watched her, looking for any sign of panic, but only saw desire. He smiled at her lovingly and covered her mouth with his, moving forward again. He felt the resistance of her give-way and he froze.
“Am I hurting you?”
“It feels wonderful.”
He rested more of his weight against her chest and tried to relax, but all he could think about was what must be going through her mind. The pleasure she was giving him was blinding, but he was almost afraid to enjoy it. His rhythm was methodical and almost too calculated.
Sydney squeezed his hips and curled her legs around the backs of his thighs.
“It's okay, Ben. I'm not going to break,” she said softly.
He sighed heavily and kissed her again. “I love you so much, Sydney.”
Ben arched and pushed himself all the way inside. She began to rock beneath him, becoming fluid friction against him. She returned everything he gave to her, keeping perfect time as he slowly built their momentum.
He rolled onto his back and pulled her with him, straddling her across his groin. He used his hands to swivel her hips in smooth circles over his lap and felt her insides begin to tighten around him. A high pitched moan escaped her throat. She called out his name and sat back on him, pushing him in deeper.
As soon as he felt her spasms start, he turned again, and repositioned her beneath him. Seconds later, everything Ben knew to be reality, blurred into a blissful haze of euphoria, and he climaxed. He lifted himself onto his elbows and stared down at her, searching her eyes for any sign of what she was thinking or feeling.
She lay silent. The pillow cradled her head, face still flushed, her breathing not quite back to normal. She looked angelic to him, almost too good to be true. Her hands moved over his backside.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked.
Sydney's face relaxed into a brilliant smile.
“I love you, too,” she said.
Her words took him by surprise. Emotion began to build in his eyes.
“Really?” he asked.
“You seem surprised to hear me say it.”
“When I said it earlier, you didn't say it back.”
“I wanted to say it, but I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
Sydney began to shift beneath him.
“About what all this means, Ben. It feels too good, too comfortable, and that makes me fearful for what's going to happen to ruin it.”
Ben rolled onto his side. “Syd, you can't go into a relationship wondering how it's going to end. Maybe it won't end. Did you consider that?”
“Murphy's Law.”
“That's an urban legend.”
He pressed himself against her side, his fingers drifting over her breasts.
“We're in love,” he said. “As far as I'm concerned, nothing beyond that really matters. Life is beautiful.”
Sydney smiled at him, stroking his chest. “I do love you.”
“And I can't begin to express how happy that makes me, Sydney. I honestly don't know what I did to deserve someone as special as you. Meeting you has changed me.”
He shifted on top again, eased back inside her wetness, and loved her until they both had to sleep.
The cry of a sea gull passing by the open deck doors woke Sydney. The sun flickered through the sheer white curtains billowing about the doorway like balloons and hit her face. She rolled her head toward Ben. He was curled behind her, sleeping soundly, his hand still resting on her bare hip. Her body began to heat at the memory of his touch the previous night. She
turned to him and lightly stroked his face, watching as he slowly opened his eyes, a smile curling his sensuous mouth.
He reached for her, his body quickly hardening in just the right spot, then slipping inside her. He swiftly brought her to orgasm and then himself, before turning her to spoon against him.
“Good morning,” he sighed, playfully biting her on the shoulder.
“It certainly is.”
“I see we missed the sunrise,” he said, glancing toward the deck and the curtains blowing into the room from the breeze.
“We can do it another day.”
Ben turned onto his back and covered his face with his forearm.
“This probably isn't the best time to ask this, considering what we were doing all night and again this morning, but are you taking birth control, or should I be wearing a condom?”
Sydney froze beneath the sheets, then grabbed her robe from the floor and stepped onto the deck. “Sydney?” he called to her. He rolled from the bed and pulled on his pajama bottoms and followed her.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the beach below them. Several seconds passed and she remained silent. “I can't get pregnant,” she finally said.
“What do you mean?” he asked, rubbing her back.
Sydney shifted uneasily against the deck railing. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “After the…rape, I needed surgery to repair some of the damage. The doctors told me it would take a miracle for me to conceive.”
Ben pulled her against his chest tightly and stroked her hair.
“I accepted it a long time ago, so I don't know why I'm crying about it now. It's been years since I've even thought about it,” she shrugged. “I figured I'd work a few more years and maybe try adoption.”
“You'll make a great mom,” he said, and wiped the moisture from her cheeks.
“Do you want kids of your own?” she asked. A note of sadness hung off her words; her eyes rose to his.
“If it happens, I'll feel blessed,” he said. “The older I get, the more I think about it, but I don't want to be changing diapers when I'm sixty. I might need my own diaper changed by then.”