Hawke snorted. “Yeah. Right. I begged you every night to ruin me for all others, but you never took me up on it. I was so neglected.”
Sophie stared at the two of them together, incapable of believing Hawke would say such a thing. He was never…funny, for lack of a better term. Benton did something to him—made him strange. Hawke and Benton spent a full thirty seconds trying to make eyes at one another before roaring with laughter. She saw it then. They would’ve never been able to take sex with each other seriously long enough to do the deed.
Swiping his eyes, Hawke stood to leave. “Speaking of begging sexy men to do bad things to me, I’m assuming mine is home now. If I’m lucky, I’ll catch him mid-shower.” Even with the empty space on the sofa, Benton didn’t move away. Sophie was more than a little aware of every spot his body touched hers. Benton waited until Hawke almost made it to the door.
“Hawke.” Hawke paused mid-step, glancing behind him with eyebrows raised in question. The sweetest smile Sophie had ever seen touched Benton’s lips. “I love you.” He was serious. Sophie could feel it.
Hawke returned Benton’s smile and his words. “I love you too.”
They both meant it. It wasn’t in the way Sophie had wondered about, but it was love. They were family. Their bond went beyond blood or ties anyone could see, but it was there. The knowledge made Sophie feel worse rather than better. Sometimes, she felt strangely alone. In her moment of self-pity, it took a minute for the weight of Benton’s stare to penetrate her thoughts. Once the sensation sank in, she couldn’t ignore it. He was chewing on his lip. It was wrong, but she couldn’t look away.
“It occurs to me, I may owe you an apology.”
Since her brain was busy attempting to keep her tongue from pleading with him to bite her instead of his lip, Sophie didn’t understand him right away. Once she deciphered his statement, she still didn’t understand.
“For what?”
His gaze swept her face. It took every ounce of her will to keep from pressing her hands to her stomach. It was dancing at the vision of his amber-colored eyes. She’d thought about him and his gorgeous eyes, more times than she’d care to admit in the past year.
“Everything I said in New Orleans. I have an issue with liars. In any case, I shouldn’t have cast my insecurities onto you.” Somehow, they were closer. Sophie wasn’t sure which one of them had shifted toward the other.
“Don’t apologize. You were right. I made a bad decision. It wasn’t one I planned in advance, but when the path opened, I chose the wrong one.” A bitter smile twisted her lips. “Story of my life.” She blinked. Barely an inch separated them. Since Sophie was a little more than fifty percent sure she’d been the one to close the distance between them, she shot to her feet. Because she didn’t want it to look as if she was running away, she forced herself to make another confession. “You were right about something else too. I would’ve hated it if Hawke turned into someone like me.” The admission tasted like ash and knocked the fantasy of Benton’s flavor from her mouth. “No one deserves that.”
*
He was like her. No one did deserve it. Yet here they were. Those thoughts carried him through the rest of the night. The idea of going home never occurred to him—not through another insane dinner with Hawke’s mother or any of the times Sophie caught him staring at her. Hawke and Jamie always made him feel welcome. Sometimes, he thought to show up, suitcases in hand and never leave. Most likely, no one would bat an eye. Perhaps, they were expecting it to happen any day. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at the idea. He could almost picture their faces.
“I have to know.”
Benton blinked, bringing Sophie’s face into focus. Leaning over in her seat, she was watching him as if anticipating his next move. He didn’t know what she was talking about. More times than he cared to admit, Benton got lost in his head.
“Sorry.”
The rest of the crazies were arguing over their desserts about something Benton gathered was important enough for Jamie to have found a tape measure to settle it. Dear Lord. There was no telling. Sophie was still watching him instead.
“You were smiling. I have to know what you were thinking about.”
Sophie was close enough he could see the gold specks in her green eyes. It would be real with her. Raw. He’d never have to pretend. In hopes of hiding the pang of hunger that ran through him at the thought, Benton took a drink before responding. It didn’t help. Even to his ears, his voice dripped with lust.
“I was plotting our escape. You owe me a truth or dare rematch.”
Sophie’s lips twisted into a sardonic smile. He was fascinated. “That’s not how I remember it at all. From what I recall, you’ve yet to fulfill your last dare.”
“Even better,” he said without hesitation. “Our game is still afoot.”
Sophie snickered. “Afoot is it?”
He nodded, feeling the same way he always did after downing an entire bottle of his favorite single malt. “Like mischief. In play. In progress. Unfinished. Some might say unconsummated.” It didn’t matter he knew he was being ridiculous. Benton couldn’t stop.
“When you put it that way, we can’t stop. Plus, you still have my panties.”
The entire table fell silent at the right moment, making Sophie’s final comment seem overly loud in the otherwise quiet space. Every eye turned her way. Sophie smiled. Benton bit back a laugh at her innocent expression. Luckily, they lost interest in her after a second. They needed privacy.
“Quick. What does your mom hate most in the world?”
Sophie visibly floundered. “I don’t know. Dirty laundry.”
Benton stood, tugging Sophie to her feet. “Please excuse us,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the arguing around the table. “I promised Sophie I would show her the mounds of dirty laundry I have at my house.”
Kathy curled her nose but waved them away before returning to her conversation with Jamie. It was easier than he thought to make their escape. No one paid any attention to them as they headed for the door. For some reason Benton couldn’t explain, he crowded Sophie’s body as he muscled her into a jacket and from the house. He could feel her barely suppressed laughter against his chest.
He lived within walking distance of Hawke and Jamie. So much so, Benton never drove to their house. Sophie didn’t utter a single complaint as they made their way to his slice of the world. Personally, Benton had never cared much for his home. That wasn’t entirely true. There’d been a time, years ago, he’d seen the place as a haven from his fast-paced career. That was before it transformed into a constant reminder of how no one could possibly withstand a life with him. Now, he wondered what Sophie saw when she looked at it.
It was pretentious with its six bedrooms, seven bathrooms, two kitchens and more amenities than he could name. For one person, it was over-the-top. But if nothing else, he’d amassed a fortune in his lifetime. It wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to spend his money. His parents had passed on several years earlier. He didn’t have children nor did he have any plans for the future. Wesley, his only living sibling, stopped speaking to him years ago. It wasn’t a bond Benton intended to rekindle.
As the cream-colored walls and dark wood of his foyer came into sight, Benton caught himself staring at Sophie and waiting for her reaction. He wasn’t sure why it mattered, but it did.
Her features gave nothing away. “You can tell a man lives here,” she said as she slipped off her coat. He hung it on the rack by the door.
“How so?”
She flashed him a bright smile. Her eyes shined with mirth, making him want to hear her every thought. “It smells like leather in here.”
A chuckle slipped out as he hung his coat next to hers. “I suppose I’m not here enough to dispel the scent of new furniture.”
Moving farther into the room, Sophie ran her fingers across the back of his couch. “I take it this is the offender. It’s soft.” She brushed her hand over it again. “Oooh, and
it has some sort of digital screen on it. Do I even want to know what it does?”
“Most likely not,” he answered, hoping she wouldn’t ask since he wasn’t entirely sure. In fact, he didn’t remember buying it. Most likely, he’d hired someone to do so. Touching the small of her back, he urged her toward the hall. The moment his palm contacted her skin, his heart sped and his mouth went dry. “Would you like a tour, a drink or both?”
She cast a glance around the room, eyeing his overly large flat screen and the bookshelves lining the walls. “Let’s go with the drink. This place makes my tiny apartment seem sad in comparison. Maybe some liquid fortification will make me feel better about my circumstances.” Even though her voice was laced heavy with laughter, Benton didn’t know how to respond. Luckily, she didn’t wait for him to figure it out. “I’m sorry. Your house is beautiful. I didn’t mean to sound petty. You work your ass off and deserve every awesome inch you have to show for it.”
Benton shrugged while trying not to show how much her praise meant. He did work his fingers to the bone, but most people didn’t see that. All anyone cared about was what he could do for them. “I’m rarely here to enjoy it. This is my man cave,” he added as they cleared the threshold of the only room in the house he liked. “I realize it’s ridiculous to have one since I live alone, but there’s a total of four rooms in the house I actually visit. This is one.”
Sophie turned in a circle, inspecting their surroundings. At one end of the room sat a huge poker table surrounded by ten leather chairs. In the center was a billiards table. Benton was certain he’d never used it. On the opposite side of the room, there was a cherry wood bar with rows of liquor lining the wall behind it. He waved Sophie in its direction. She claimed a stool. Moving behind the counter, Benton searched the shelves for the perfect drink. Sophie didn’t speak. Benton spent a moment wondering why he’d brought her here. It had been months since they’d exchanged a word. He’d known she was in town for over a week, and intentionally he’d avoided her. That is until last night.
When he’d shown for dinner, he’d known he wouldn’t be able to resist goading her. Until the moment she exploded, even he hadn’t fully embraced the real reason for his anger. By the time she finished her ranting confession, Benton knew he couldn’t hide from the truth a moment longer. It pissed him off she belonged to Joss. But now she didn’t, and Sophie was in more trouble than she’d ever known. It was a whole new game. When Benton wanted something, he always won.
*
Somewhere between Hawke’s house and Benton’s, Benton morphed into a brooding stranger. She wanted the playful Benton back. Of course, it was equally possible she was the problem. She’d known Benton had money—like Richie Rich bucks. Before now, she’d pretended it didn’t matter. Sitting in the center of his wealth, it was more apparent than ever—she had nothing to offer him. Not to mention, she was uber uncomfortable and almost afraid to touch anything. There was every probability even the stool she sat upon cost more than her car. Sophie wasn’t sure where to go with that. It was one thing to sit amongst her brother’s fortune. He was, after all, her brother, but Benton felt more out of her reach than ever before.
She wished he’d crack a joke or fuck her. At least then she’d be in her element. Determined to take back her confidence, Sophie focused on Benton rather than their surroundings. It helped. His hair curled at the edge of his white collar. She wondered if it was as soft as it looked. Her palms itched to find out. He unbuttoned his shirt at the wrists and rolled his sleeves to his elbows. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he reached above his head. Sophie’s mouth watered, and it had nothing to do with wanting a drink. In fact, when she caught sight of the label, her nose curled. “I don’t like dark liquors. Where’s the vodka?”
Benton chuckled at her expression. “This is the English version. We drink scotch.” Sophie groaned. He didn’t relent. “I played by your rules.” He set the Macallan 25 on the bar along with two crystal glasses. “Only the best for this round. Winner takes all.”
She fell back on sexual innuendo, hoping to take control. “What does “all” consist of?”
Benton smirked but didn’t answer. “Are you afraid you’ll lose?”
Sophie was more afraid she’d win. Coming out on top meant demanding what she wanted rather than submitting to his demands. No one had ever made her doubt herself the way Benton did. “Are you?” She shot back.
“Not at all.” He poured a splash of alcohol in each glass. She curled her nose at the smell. “Ladies first.”
“Are you sure?”
“Never say I’m not a gentleman.”
Sophie did her best not to laugh. “I wouldn’t dare. Hmmm, how about something simple? What’s my favorite color?”
Benton didn’t hesitate. “Green.” Her lips parted in surprise.
“How did you know that?”
“That’s two questions. What happens if I’m right? We didn’t go over that last time.”
Sophie shrugged. “Nothing. It’s your turn.”
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Green.”
“Damn. Our drinks will get stale at this rate.”
That was her hope. “When is my birthday?”
“August 3rd. I sent you flowers. What am I thinking right now?”
Sophie chuckled. “You didn’t wait to find out if you’re right.”
Benton set his elbows on the bar, leaning close enough she could see the brown streaking through his amber eyes. “That’s because I know I am. Now, answer the question. What am I thinking?”
It wasn’t a fair question. She refused to point it out. Her gaze latched onto his mouth. His lips were amazing. They looked soft and lickable. “You’re wishing you hadn’t backed down from that dare.” He didn’t respond. “If this is an extension of the last game, it’s not too late. You can kiss me. It won’t mean anything.”
“Yes. It will. Plus I’ve determined this is a new game rather than an extension of the last. Otherwise, you’d be nude.”
“True,” Sophie agreed. “My turn. What was I thinking when you walked in on that game?” It was only fair since he’d asked an impossible question.
Straightening away, Benton laughed. “You were wishing you were better at this game.”
“Anh! Drink up.” They both did. It was every bit as nasty as she expected it to be. Benton smirked as she tried scraping the aftertaste from her tongue. Whatever else happened today, Sophie needed to win. She couldn’t keep drinking this shit.
“You realize this game is pointless, right? If we both have to take a shot even when we’re not the one who’s wrong, it’s ridiculous.”
“That is the point,” Sophie said, coughing a little. “Everyone gets hammered and gets to know their friends. Now, truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Benton answered as he snagged a bar stool and straddled it. Part of Sophie was disappointed. She knew what her dare would’ve been. Most likely, so did Benton, and that’s why he’d gone with the truth. Another part of her was relieved. She also had questions.
“Hawke said you weren’t single when the two of you met. What happened to whoever you were seeing?” She expected Benton to—in the very least—look uncomfortable. He didn’t. It made her wonder if he would’ve answered her questions without any games.
“My job is hard on relationships. I travel and meet people who are willing to do anything for a contract. Anything,” he repeated as if she didn’t get it. She did. “In my experience, even when someone thinks they can handle being with me, they’re wrong. I came back from L.A. a week early after I lost a deal to another company. She was in our bed with my brother.”
“Damn,” Sophie said before she could call it back. Benton didn’t react. He shrugged.
“I threw her out. Losing my money didn’t thrill her.” Sophie could imagine. “She claimed she was pregnant with my child. I countered by telling her I’d be more than happy to provide her with a set amount of money each month until the baby was
born if she would allow my solicitor to accompany her to the doctor and prove her pregnancy. If she could do that, I’d provide for her and once the child was born and a DNA test was performed, I’d continue that monthly payment if the child was mine. If not, she would have to pay back the money I sent her during pregnancy plus fifteen percent for inconveniencing me. Needless to say, it never went further since there was no pregnancy. She’s now married to my brother.” No wonder he hated liars and manipulators. Sophie had zero doubt this was the kind of thing he dealt with all the time. Maybe not to the same extreme, but people wanted things from Benton. She wasn’t an exception. Sophie wanted his time. The unexpected daily texts he’d denied her the past few months. Him. Without meeting her gaze or giving her a chance to gather her thoughts, Benton tossed back a shot. She assumed it was meant to take the burn from his confession since it had nothing to do with the game. “It’s my turn.”
Sophie forced her lips to shape a smile. “Yep. Hit me.”
“Why are you here?”
Her mouth went dry. “Your questions aren’t fair.”
“Anh! There’s no whining in this game. You lose by default.”
A spurt of humor overcame her. “Says who?”
“Says me. Drink.” It was every bit as bad the second time—like licking ash from the bottom of an ashtray only to find there was rubbing alcohol underneath. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” Sophie said around the needles in her throat. Benton’s eyes flashed, and Sophie knew. Her heart slowed before speeding up again. She watched the words fall from his lips because she couldn’t miss it happening.
“Kiss me.”
There was no undoing this. She could back down. Benton wouldn’t taunt her if she did, but neither would she get another chance. Of that, she was sure. Leaning forward, she set her elbows on the bar. “Come here.” Even to her ears, the demand came out sounding sultry. There was no hiding the way she wanted him. He shifted closer. Sophie struck, snagging his tie and tugging until she could reach his mouth. In the back of her mind, Sophie considered—for a brief moment—touching her lips to his and backing away, fulfilling the barest minimum requirements of his dare. The instant their lips met, her thoughts dried up, leaving her barren. There was nothing except his mouth against hers. With the bar between them, they weren’t touching in any other way. There wasn’t a need. From the beginning, they’d had a connection. Now they had something more. Kissing him had been a mistake. She didn’t stop. For a second, their lips clung until his parted. Sophie took advantage, stroking his tongue with hers. The funniest thing happened—Sophie fell in instant love with scotch. It was amazing the way such a disgusting drink tasted like chocolate on Benton’s tongue. She wanted to lick it away and savor it forever. He pulled away, stealing her moment, and walking away. Sophie could only stare at his back as he moved in the opposite direction. If she as much as breathed, she couldn’t recall doing so. No one had ever kissed her the way he had. It was amazing.
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