Marx Girl

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Marx Girl Page 11

by T L Swan


  “Do you want to dance?” the girls ask, interrupting my thoughts.

  “No. I’m going to take a seat at the bench over there and finish my drink and I’ll meet you on the dance floor in a few minutes,” I lie.

  God, I’m way too sober to dance. I take a seat at the small circular table and sip my drink as I watch the girls. I feel my phone vibrate in my bag and I take it out to see it’s a text from Ben.

  Hi

  I smile sadly and text him back.

  Hi.

  I stare at my phone and wait for his reply. It doesn’t come, so I put my phone on the table in front of me. Finally, another message comes through.

  I feel like I’m going crazy

  I text back.

  Why?

  A reply comes in.

  Because I can’t stop thinking about you.

  I smile sadly.

  That makes two of us.

  I watch my phone as I wait for his reply.

  You still belong to me, Bridget

  And I still belong to you.

  My eyes fill with tears and I drop my head. That’s exactly how it feels. I reply.

  This is a mess, Ben.

  He replies.

  I know. Let me fix it

  I stare at my phone through my blurred vision until I can no longer even see it. I put my phone down on the table, and I swipe the tears away, hoping nobody can see them in the dark. God, this has been an emotional two days. Finding out about his past, realising I don’t love Eric… or have any chance with anyone else until I get over him.

  My beautiful Ben…

  My Heaven and my Hell.

  I scrunch up my face. I just can’t hold the tears any longer. They roll down my face and I keep wiping them away. I hope the girls don’t see me.

  A text comes through.

  Don’t cry, baby

  I text back.

  I can’t help it.

  I’m so sad, Ben.

  And I’m so mad with you.

  A text comes back.

  I know. Me, too.

  I put my phone down on the table and scramble around in my bag for a tissue. I blow my nose as I think. Hang on… how did he know I was crying? I glance around the other tables, and there at the back, hiding in the darkness… I see him. He sits alone, watching me. He smiles softly and now I really can’t help it. My face screws up again and I find myself walking over to him as he stands.

  “What are you doing here?” I whisper.

  “I’m here for my girl.”

  I stare at him as my brain misfires. “Did you follow me?”

  “Yes.” He slowly takes me into his arms and kisses me. My tears wet his cheeks, and this is just my fucking luck that he sees me being a big cry-baby. His tongue gently sweeps between my lips and his hands snake around to my behind.

  “Bridget,” he whispers as he holds me tightly in his arms.

  This is too much. The feeling between us is too much—much more than it should be. We kiss again and again, and every time his lips leave mine, I only want more. I can feel his erection up against my stomach, and he pulls my behind onto him so that I can really feel it.

  We become desperate, frantic in the dark as if we are alone, and our arousal jumps to a new level. He pulls me back to his stool at the table in the darkened corner. He sits on the stool and brings me to stand in between his legs, snug up against his hard cock. Our lips are locked and I can’t see straight, let alone think. His hands slide up my legs, underneath my skirt to rest on my behind. He squeezes my cheeks and inhales sharply. “There’s my girl,” he whispers.

  The heat from his touch is electric and my arousal starts to throb heavily between my legs. With every flick of his tongue, his hands slide up and down my behind. I need him to touch me… there.

  I lift one of my legs to rest on the stool in invitation, and he smiles against my lips. “You feel so fucking good, Bridge. I’ve waited for this, for you,” he growls in a whisper against my neck as he bites it hard.

  Oh, hell. My eyes close in pleasure.

  His hand slides up around my inner thigh and his fingers start to circle over my sex, through my panties.

  His tongue dances with mine.

  I’m wet.

  I’m losing control. I want him. I want all of him. His fingers dancing over me just isn’t enough. “Touch me,” I whisper.

  His fingers slide beneath my panties and through my dripping-wet flesh. He makes a guttural moan, and I swear, it nearly makes me orgasm.

  I clench to hold it back.

  He inhales sharply as his kiss becomes frantic. “Bridget,” he whispers with his eyes closed. He slowly slides a finger into me and we both moan.

  Oh, this is too good.

  Fuck.

  He adds another finger and I totally lose control as he slowly starts to pump me.

  His breath quivers with deep arousal.

  I clench around his fingers and he screws up his face. “We need to go home or I’m going to blow in my fucking pants,” he growls.

  I nod as I try to control my breathing, but it’s too late. I need my orgasm now. “Give it to me,” I breathe.

  His eyes flicker with arousal and he starts to pump me with his fingers in a rhythm that can only be described as oh my fucking God.

  The sound of my slick arousal hangs around us, and hell… I’m in a fucking club, riding his thick fingers.

  He bites my neck as he rubs my g-spot, and that’s it.

  I clench.

  I fall.

  Oh, fuck.

  ”Ben,” I moan as a freight train of an orgasm rips through me.

  His mouth hangs slack as he watches me ride it out. My eyes have rolled back in my head.

  And then he kisses me, and it’s soft, tender, and loving, and I cling to him as if my life depends on it. Maybe it does.

  He slowly takes his fingers out of my body and puts them in his mouth to suck them as his dark eyes hold mine. Then he readjusts my panties. “Let’s go home, angel,” he whispers in my ear as he bites it.

  I nod, unable to answer, rocked to my core from the intensity of the orgasm he just gave me without hardly moving a muscle.

  He takes my hand and leads me through the club. I spot Louisa, wave, and gesture to the door. Her mouth falls open before she gives me a nerdy two thumbs up.

  The drive back to my place is made in silence. He has my hand in his on his lap and I can feel his hard dick in his pants. I’m a bit nervous, to be honest.

  It’s been a long time.

  Will it still be as hot as it used to be between us?

  His eyes flash between me and the road. “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

  My eyes hold his. “How good you felt inside of me.”

  He puts my hand on his dick. “You ain’t see nothing.”

  Fifteen minutes later, we burst through my apartment door like a pair of maniacs. Our lips are locked and he walks me backward into my apartment, lifting my dress over my head and slipping my high heels off.

  “Naked. I need you naked,” he pants against my lips.

  I moan as his lips drop to my neck and he bites me hard. “Ah,” I cry out.

  He takes my bra off and then slides my panties down my legs. His eyes slowly drop down my body, and I feel the heat burn me from his gaze.

  “Still fucking perfect,” he whispers.

  He picks me up, throws me onto the kitchen table, and lays me back.

  “Oh, God,” I whimper.

  He takes his shirt off over his head then kicks his shoes and socks off. My eyes roam over his body and that broad chest with its scattering of dark hair. He has thick shoulders with sculptured arms, and I can see every muscle in his stomach.

  “Take it all off,” I whisper.

  His dark eyes hold mine as he slowly unzips his jeans and slides them down with his briefs.

  His thick cock hangs heavily between his legs. Pre-ejaculate is dripping from the end.

  Good God… I’m in Heaven.


  Then he dips his head and his tongue pushes through my flesh. He moans into me; my legs lift off the table and close by themselves. He grabs my thighs and slams them back against the table.

  “Let me in,” he growls.

  He begins to suck on me, harder and harder, and his stubble is beginning to burn. I put my hands on the back of his head. His eyes are closed in pleasure and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him so aroused. He pushes up with his shoulders under my thighs, and I slam up onto the table… hard.

  Oh fuck, he’s out of control.

  “Ben…” I whimper.

  He moans into me again and I cry out. Holy fucking hell, this is what I’m talking about.

  My back arches off the table, and he pushes four fingers into me with aggression.

  “Ahh!” I cry out.

  I’d forgotten what it was like to sleep with him. It’s nearly a blood sport, he’s so rough. “Watch me,” he commands.

  I lean up onto my elbows and watch him lap me up, every last drop, and I don’t know what’s more arousing…

  The feeling of him doing this to me, or the fact that he loves doing it so much.

  Either way, I’m one lucky bitch.

  He pulls back to watch my body struggle to accept his fingers. My back is arching off the table and the sound of my arousal sucking him in is loud.

  “That’s it, baby, ride me. Get ready for this cock of mine.” He slowly takes his dick in his hand and begins to stroke it as he stares at my sex being pounded by his fingers.

  Oh fuck, this is too good.

  “Now, Ben,” I moan. “I need you now. I don’t want to come on your fingers.” His eyes hold mine and he licks his lips. “You’ll come on whatever I fucking give you,” he growls.

  My eyes close and my head falls back. This is how it is with Ben. I get what I’m given.

  He hisses through his arousal and I know he can’t stand it any longer, either. He climbs up onto the table until he’s over me. His lips take mine and my hips rise to meet him.

  “I need you…” I whimper.

  “I know, babe, I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my lips.

  He starts to slide his thick cock between my wet lips. Well, fuck me. Oh… damn.

  He does this for a long time as we kiss, as if he’s trying to calm himself down.

  For me, though, I’m enjoying every second our lips touch. I don’t want this to end.

  His perfect kisses. His body against mine. I don’t even need sex. Just being close to him is like a drug.

  He lifts one of my legs and holds it back with his forearm, and in one sharp movement, he slides in deep.

  Our mouths fall open.

  He’s big… and so, so deep.

  “Ben…” I whimper. Fuck, was the sex always this good between us?

  He slowly pulls out and slides back in.

  “Oh, fucking hell, Bridget,” he moans as his lips drop to my neck.

  He gives it to me slow for three more strokes and then he slams in hard—so hard he knocks the air from my lungs.

  Then he is riding me. Hard, long, deep pumps until I can’t see straight, until I think he’s going to break my dining room table. He lifts my other leg up over his shoulder and holds himself in a push-up position.

  Oh, God, if this isn’t the best night of my entire life. My body shudders and I begin to moan. I can’t hold it.

  “Wait for me,” he snaps.

  “I can’t,” I cry.

  “Fucking wait for me, Bridget.”

  I wince and squeeze my eyes shut.

  Then he really lets me have it at piston pace, and hard… so fucking hard.

  “Ah, Ben,” I cry.

  He puts his hand underneath my behind to lift me onto his hips and… Oh, God… that’s the spot. My eyes roll into the back of my head. I lose control.

  I clench and cry out. He closes his eyes and comes in a rush.

  Our lips touch, and suddenly he’s gentle again. We kiss, slowly and tenderly, and I smile against his lips. “Welcome home, baby. Welcome home.”

  I walk into Mum’s just after seven. I had planned on getting here earlier but, as usual, I’m running late. This is a goodbye dinner for Cameron. He’s heading back to America tomorrow after the wedding last week. “Hello,” I call out to everyone.

  Jordy and Ella run to meet me at the door and I bend and hug them both. “Hello, my favourite little people.” I laugh. Blake toddles towards me and I scoop him up. “Oh, I could eat you.” I bend and pretend to bite his tummy, watching as he squeals in delight. I’ve had the best night of my life. I spent nearly the whole night with Ben inside my body, hard, soft, anyway I could have him. We took a bath and laughed, and it felt like we hadn’t been apart at all.

  This morning we made love again and laughed a whole lot more. I knew I would be seeing him tonight and I can hardly wait. We’ve decided we’re not telling anyone about us just yet. This is between us only.

  Abbie and Tash are at the kitchen counter, sitting on stools, drinking wine, while Mum is cooking. “Hey, girls.” I smile as I walk in.

  “Hello, darling.” Mum kisses me on the cheek. “You look lovely.” She looks me up and down. I glance out at the backyard and I see Joshua, Brock, Cameron, Max, and Ben all standing around cooking on the barbeque grill with beers in their hands. I smile. Whenever we are at Mum’s, Max is always a guest and never a guard. Mum won’t have it any other way. They have become very close over the years.

  “Hi, boys,” I call from the door.

  “Hi.” They all smile. Joshua walks over and kisses my cheek.

  Ben’s eyes rise to meet mine and he gives me a sexy smirk.

  I feel my stomach flip, and I smile.

  “Did you stop and get my beer, Didge?” Brock asks.

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, I got your stupid beer. Why couldn’t you get it?”

  “I was running late and you said you were stopping for wine anyway.”

  I smirk and go back into the kitchen. Somehow Brock has got into the habit of me organising him, and he even refers to me as his PA.

  PA, my ass.

  Natasha fills my glass and I sit next to them at the counter. Mum is cooking fried rice.

  “How was your day?” I smile.

  Abbie leans in. “Ben hooked up last night,” she whispers. “He must have been furious about your fight.”

  “What?” My eyes flicker outside to where he is. Oh, that’s right, he was with me. “How do you know?” I whisper back. Ben and I talked about this; we don’t want anyone to know anything yet. I want to avoid another Eric disaster.

  Natasha glances outside guiltily. “We called around on the way over here to see his place.”

  “What’s it like?” I interrupt.

  “Fucking amazing,” Abbie replies.

  I smirk because I know it is. “And?”

  “His mattress wasn’t even blown up,” Natasha whispers.

  I frown as I try to keep a straight face. “What do you mean, blown up?” I reply as I take a quick glance outside.

  “He has a blow-up mattress,” Natasha tells me.

  “Where is his furniture?” I ask innocently.

  “He hasn’t got any yet.”

  I roll my lips as I look at Ben. His legs are wide apart, his arms folded as he stands there with his squarer than square jaw and those huge muscular shoulders and arms that scream fuck me now. Hmm. Delicious. I smirk and look back at the girls. “I don’t understand.”

  “He didn’t sleep at my house because I checked late, and I didn’t hear him come home all night,” Natasha whispers. It’s getting hard to keep a straight face.

  “Right.” I frown.

  “And he didn’t sleep at his new house,” Abbie whispers as she widens her eyes. “You don’t have to be Einstein to work this shit out.”

  “Oh…” I nod.

  Mum goes out to the boys. “Can I ask someone a favour, please? The light down in the cellar needs changing and I can’t reach it.”

 
“I’ll do it,” Max offers.

  “I can help, too,” Ben adds, and the two of them disappear around the side of the house and down the steps with Mum.

  Brock comes in to put his beer in the fridge. “Did Ben pick up last night?” Natasha asks him straight out.

  “No.” He frowns.

  “How do you know?” Abbie asks.

  Brock’s eyes flicker between us. “Because I know.” He rolls his eyes.

  “How?” Natasha demands.

  “Because he’s obsessed with Didge. I know he wouldn’t pick up.”

  Natasha narrows her eyes. “Well, where did he sleep then?”

  He shrugs and opens his beer to take a big swig. “I don’t know, but, like…” He sips again and shrugs. “He hasn’t had sex in months. He wouldn’t come all the way to Australia to pick up some random chick.”

  I bite my bottom lip to stop an over the top smile from covering my face.

  Joshua walks inside and stands with us. He takes a handful of chips and throws them into his mouth.

  Hang on a minute. Did I hear that right? “What do you mean he hasn’t had sex in months?” I frown.

  Brock frowns at Joshua. “What did he say, Stan?”

  Joshua rolls his eyes, uninterested. “I don’t know, something lame.”

  “When did he say this?” I ask.

  “The other night when we were out. Said he only had one girl on his mind and nobody else could get the job done. Said it’s been months.” He widens his eyes at me.

  A stupid, goofy grin nearly splits my face.

  Brock points at Joshua. “That’s weird, but… right? It’s a job. Anyone can get it done.”

  Joshua smirks. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  Natasha looks at Joshua, deadpan. “Well, your jobs may never get done again.”

  He winks playfully, and she rolls her eyes in disgust.

 

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