by M. Piper
“Benton, what the fu-”
Before I can get the rest of my words out, his lips are on mine, and he’s pushing me back into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. Without words, he spins me and slams me to the door.
“Enjoying your work day, Gabby?” he growls, his hands cupping my breasts, as he slams his lips to mine again. All I can do is moan as he squeezes and caresses my nipples to hardened peaks. “How about that lunch fuck, how was that? She wasn’t in here very long,” he considers, flicking his glance to mine as his fingers travel up my neck. “Nice to know you’re having a good day ‘at work’, Gabby,” he rumbles. His lips crush to mine again, and his hands wrap around me, gripping my ass as my arms go around him. I press my body against his, and feel him hardening for me. Fuck, that’s hot.
“Benton, I’m so-”
“No.” He backs away, releasing me, and leaving me cold from his sudden movement. “You don’t get to talk. Just listen. I have an appointment this afternoon, but tonight you better fucking be home. I won’t have long, but I have a few very important things to say to you.” He curses and runs his hands down his face. “Go home, Gabby. Obviously, you’re not working today, but I’ve got a very important meeting that’s about to happen. I need you out of this restaurant, so that I can focus on that, and not worry about who you’re screwing in the bathroom.” His lip quirks up in a grin, and his eyes gleam. “Unless it’s me.”
“Oh, Benton,” I moan. “I can’t… I-” I’m starting to freak out. He’s being so possessive and I’m torn between being pissed that I like it, pissed that I can’t have it, and incredibly fucking turned on, as well as upset over Ellie and my new found emotions about Benton I didn’t knew ran so deep. My head is all kinds of fucked up. When my brain has to work this hard just to help me stand straight, it takes away energy from other things that have to keep my body moving.
Like breathing.
“You need to go,” I start to breathe heavy, feeling the panic well up in me. I can’t have this. I can’t have this. I want this, I don’t need this, and I can’t have this. Why the hell does this have to happen here?! In the bathroom of a crowded restaurant, all I can see is the man standing in front of me, currently looking at me like I’m crazy as the edges of my vision start to blacken. Fuck!
“Gabby?” His voice hums through my body, soothing me, but not enough to make the pace of my heart slow down.
Fuck! I took my meds today, I should be okay! I should be, but I’m not. Fuck fuck fuck.
“Benton, you need to go,” I whisper again, closing my eyes briefly, then shooting them back open when I realize closing them will only bring me more visions and pain than I need right now. There’s enough going on in the room in front of me, I don’t need to invite the images from that night back.
Oh, god, I feel like I’m going to pass out. Light headed, I put my hand on the wall behind me to brace my body before I fall to the bathroom floor.
“Gab, you’re scaring me.” His voice is so close. He’s staring at me, right in front of me, but he physically feels so far away. When his hand comes in contact with me, I have to close my eyes for fear of fainting. Just his touch is enough to help me silently and painfully make it through this episode.
Fuck.
Counting down from ten, breathing through my nose, gritting my teeth as the tears roll down my face, I see everything as if it were happening again. All over again. Each screech of the tires, each scream, the screaming baby.
Then… nothing.
“Oh, my god,” I whimper as the end of the flashback roars through me, crippling my body. Benton’s arms come around me tightly and hold on to me, so we don’t end up on the floor. The tears are streaming, and I physically ache in every part of my fucking body. Why did this have to happen to me?! Why am I the one that has to live with this?!
Because it’s your fault, Gabby.
“I’m here, babe,” he whispers, kissing my forehead and holding me tightly.
As unsettling as an attack is, especially one that violent, being here in his arms makes the recuperating process a ton easier than on my own. So warm and caring. So comfortable.
Shit.
“Benton,” I breathe. “You need to go back to your meeting.” My eyes connect with his, and I know I hurt him, but I’m so embarrassed right now and all I want to do is go home.
“Gabby, I’m not leaving you right now. What was that?” His worried expression warms my heart, and it pisses me off. My heart doesn’t deserve this.
“Stop, B. I’m fine. They happen all the time. Thanks for being here, but you need to get back to your meeting before you miss it.” I give him the best smile I can muster, then lean in and kiss his lips softly, calming the rest of my body. The only traces now of any attack is the memory of it, and the slight ache in my joints. The toll a panic attack has on someone is intense, and, when I have one that strong, that intense, that the flashbacks take over my vision, my entire body can ache for days. I’m on meds for it, and the doctors have all said what I have is normal for someone in my situation.
I’m anything but normal.
Rage
Benton
She wants me to leave, but her eyes are begging me to stay. I know it. I know that look. That’s the independent but needy Gabby shining through unintentionally. That’s the woman that wants me to leave her alone while holding her on the couch. This look in her eyes tells me everything I need to know. She wants me. She doesn’t want to push me away.
Then, why is she?
“Gab, screw the meeting. You need me right now.”
“I don’t need you, Benton,” she hisses. I’d be insulted, but I saw that look. She’s angry now, hell maybe she’s embarrassed, though she has no reason to be, but I saw that look she gave me. “I’m fine. Please… Please go back to your meeting. You can call me when it’s over. Hell, you can come over when you’re finished with it, but I need you to give me a few to… just give me a few, okay?”
Her eyes are pleading something, her hands still shaking, and she’s starting to flick the band again. I feel like I’ve heard something about the bands before. Are they used for suicidal patients? Is it just a nervous habit? Does she really like pain? Why can’t she just tell me?!
“Gab-“
“No, Benton. No. I’m going home. You’re going to your meeting. I’ll see you afterwards.” She puts her hands on her hips, and I know that’s it. She’s not letting me fight this anymore.
“Fine. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.” She nods, and sighs, as I kiss her and sneak out of the bathroom.
“Take long enough, dude?” Adam eyes me as I sit back in my chair. Thankfully, our guest hasn’t arrived yet, because I need to calm the fuck down.
“Everything okay, man?” Adam smiles as he sees our potential client arrive at the restaurant. “Let’s do this.”
“Perfect,” I grumble, watching the leggy blondes saunter over to the table. There’s no way Annaliese is letting him go through with this.
“Ladies,” Adam smiles, shaking their hands.
Uh… no thanks.
Smiling, I extend a hand out of politeness, making a mental note not to use it until I wash it. I’m not a germaphobe, but seriously, these woman probably hold more germs than the entire city of Chicago. To say we’re doing illegal business right now isn’t exactly true. These ladies do run a legal business… and then some. They want to expand, but can’t do so without Adam’s help.
“So, Mrs. Allister, tell us a little about your business,” Adam says after the waitress takes our order.
“Oh, well we sell high end re-sale items.” The one on the left smiles. “And we want to expand.”
Her fake smile is rubbing Adam raw, I can tell by the clenching of his jaw. We both know why they are here, so why is she wasting time with her ‘side’ business? The way they’ve been eyeballing both of us all lunch is incredibly irritating. Really, everything about these girls strikes me as wrong, but what Adam wants, Adam ge
ts.
“Listen, girls. I have to get home to my fiancé. We have a very important wedding coming up, so, if you plan on wasting my time beating around the bush, you can go home now. I need straight forward, and I needed it yesterday,” Adam says in the most polite way possible, but the looks on their faces say that they are anything but pleased with it.
Trying not to chuckle, I clear my throat a few times, then nod at Adam while taking a sip of water.
“He’s right. We have a lot of important shit to get to,” I say, seeing the glare from Adam for cussing on a business lunch. Who does he think we’re meeting with?! They’re prostitutes!
“Mr. Callahan, Mr. James, we’d like you to help fund our resale business legally, and under the table we will be using the money to start up a high end call girl and call boy service for the higher ups in the city of Chicago.” The woman on the right smiles, like she’s better than the girl on the left because she has the balls to actually say it.
Well congratulations, girls, your moms must be proud.
Adam starts talking numbers, and I block him out. The minute Annaliese gets word of this wild hare he’s got, she’s going to be pissed he even considered the idea, let alone thought he could actually get away with it. Hell, she’s not really the jealous type, but if word ever gets back to her about this lunch meeting… shit, Adam might be sleeping on my couch for the next week.
By the time it’s over he’s finished with them and I can tell he really wants to work with them. He’s smiling, thanking them, and promising to call them soon.
“Right,” I scoff, as soon they leave the table.
“What?” Adam grumbles, paying the bill and standing.
“How you think you’re gonna pull that one off?” I smile as he narrows his eyes at me.
“How was Gabby in the bathroom, B?”
Fuck.
“Adam,” I warn.
“Hey… not my place, Benton. Right? I wouldn’t run to tell anyone about the 15 minutes that you spent in the bathroom with my fiancé’s best friend. Bros before hos… and all that shit.”
Fuck fuck fuck.
“I’m taking the rest of the day off,” I grunt, getting up from the table, and heading towards the door.
“Too hot of a mess for me, man. Enjoy your balls while you still have them,” he jokes, then shudders exaggeratedly.
“Tomorrow, Adam.” I nod, ignoring his antics and head back to the office to close out my shit for the day. My appointment is in an hour, but I’m already sitting in the waiting room. I haven’t talked to Dr. Travers in a month, and so much has happened this last month that I’ll be lucky if I can get it all in this weekend.
By the time my wait is up, I’ve completely worked myself up into an almost rage. Why would she want to live her life like this, hopping form one person to the next? Why can’t she fucking commit to me? We’re fucking perfect for each other… why can’t she see that?
“Benton,” Dr Travers says, eyeing me as I pick at the wood of the old chair. “Mind telling me what’s on your mind? Last month you were doing pretty good, but today you look… well, why don’t you just tell me what you’ve been up to?”
He’s sitting across from me, legs crossed, hands clasped on his lap. So fucking proper. Asshole.
Jesus, why am I so angry this afternoon?
“I’ve been seeing someone,” I start, trying not to growl at him. I flick my gaze to him and he’s just nodding silently, allowing me the time I need to talk.
So I do.
I tell him everything. From the first meet, to the first fuck, to everything else that I can think of. I spend forty-five minutes talking about Gabby, and it isn’t until I realize that he’s giving me the fifteen minute warning that I haven’t mentioned Carly or Hannah once this entire time.
Dr. Travers smiles and nods when I trail off, leaving off at the restaurant this afternoon. He knows everything. He can fix me. He can, and will, fix my crazy.
“Benton, you’ve been through a lot in the last year. Your wife died suddenly, you adopted a baby, you’ve taken a few huge leaps with the company; it’s safe to say you’re a little stressed. You seem to be channeling anger again, though,” he says, nodding towards my clenched fists. Getting it all out helped, but it wasn’t enough.
I need to hit something.
“I want to see you back at the gym, Benton. You need that release.” He grabs his note pad and writes a few notes before looking at me again. “Gabby, right?” he asks, pen in hand. I nod, and he eyes me curiously as he takes more notes.
“Listen, Benton, I don’t know the entire story. You’ve talked a lot, but I know there are still things that are missing. I’m not here for relationship advice, I’m here to make you level out. If being with her makes you happy, you need to pursue that, but if all you get is frustrated and mad... Benton, Hannah doesn’t need that. You have to think of your baby in this.” He shakes his head and stands up. “If it were me, and, after all this time, the girl wouldn’t commit to me, I’d have to draw the line. Either she commits, or you need to move on and be happy for that sweet girl of yours.” He shrugs. “It’s a hard truth, but you need to be happy. This,” he waves at my demeanor. “This isn’t good for you or Hannah,” he says.
“You’re right,” I say, pissed that I knew that’s what he was going to say, but it didn’t matter… it didn’t click… until he just now told me. “Thanks,” I grumble, standing and nodding, making an appointment on my way out for a few weeks from now.
On my way home to get cleaned up, I call my parents to check in on Hannah. They’re such an amazing support system. I’m not sure what I would do without both of them to help me in my times of need. It’s hard to be there for every drop off and pick up from daycare, especially with my job. I’m there as much as I can be, but, when I’m not, she has that strong and reliable source from my parents.
By the time I get to Gabby’s, I’ve calmed down enough to actually smile genuinely at her when she opens the door. She’s so fucking cute. Hair on the top of her head, reading glasses on, leggings and massive socks to match. How the hell does someone so sexy do cute so well? There should be a fucking law about that.
“Hey,” she smiles gently, rubbing her eyes under her glasses before closing the door behind me. The sexy vixen in the tight as shit dress from earlier is gone, and before me stands a real woman. A woman I have so many feelings for, it’s insane.
“Hi, how are you?” I ask, pulling her to me, unable to keep my hands off her. Pecking my lips quickly, a smirk crosses her face when she sees the gleam in my eyes. I can’t help it. She’s so damn beautiful.
“I’m fine. Just a small headache,” she says, rubbing her eyes again.
“You sure you’re okay with me being here? You look tired,” I say, earning a slap in the arm. “What the hell?” I laugh, grabbing it, and feigning hurt while she looks at me with huge eyes.
“You’re not supposed to tell a girl she looks tired, Benton!”
“OOOh… okay. I’ll remember that next time you look tired,” I say, grinning.
She laughs it off and heads into the kitchen where she’s making lasagna. Watching her do something as simple as cooking has my feelings so wound up for her. I just want to tell her I think I’m falling hard for her. I want her to know that I’m growing to love her. The more that I watch her do these simple tasks the more I can see myself being involved like this for the rest of her life, but I can’t. I can’t, because I don’t want her to go, and, if I tell her how I really feel, she’ll run.
I know it.
“It was my gran’s recipe,” she whispers, setting a plate in front of me.
In all these months we’ve been friends with benefits, not once has she made dinner for me. When she brings me a drink, I grab her hand before she retreats to get her bowl and notice how perfect our hands fit together. She’s watching me intently, but I can’t take my eyes off of the only place our bodies are connected. I feel such warmth from having her hand in mine. Such peace.
Shit, I want this… I want her… so fucking bad.
“Can we just eat first, please?” she whispers, knowing that we have a heavy topic to discuss tonight.
“Absolutely. This looks fantastic, Gabby.”
She doesn’t say anything, just smiles and nods, and the twinkle in her eye from earlier is gone. What’s going on with her today?
I Can’t Be Alone
Gabby
“This is delicious, Gab,” he says, as he shoves another bite into his mouth. His beautiful mouth, on his beautiful body, that I’m afraid I’m caring for way too much lately.
“Thanks,” I answer, feeling like I’m on autopilot tonight. The episode in the bathroom earlier took a lot from me. Having it in front of him made the recoup from it better, but, when I got home, I realized just how bad things are starting to get. I’ve had so many panic episodes and flashbacks this last week compared to a year ago, and I can’t help but peg it on the fact that I’m starting to have very strong feelings for the man sitting in front of me. I want to be with him, I want a normal life… what girl doesn’t? I’m not made for that, though. I don’t deserve that. Not after what I did.
“Here, let me,” Benton says, taking my empty plate before I’m able to set it in the sink. “You cooked, I’ll clean,” he says, then grins and winks at me as he walks to the sink. His wink and grin has me ready to jump him, but I don’t. We need to talk, and fucking… as delicious as it sounds… won’t allow us time to talk.
Even when my mind is muddled with every emotions possible, he still has a way of getting through and soaking my panties with one small smirk. Coming behind him, I instinctively wrap my arms around his midsection and hug him, feeling him, still in his dishwashing, before his hands, wet with soap, clasp on to mine. We don’t say anything, just hold each other. I know he hurts, he knows I have issues though he doesn’t know specifics, but we both accept that. We hold each other like we’re holding ourselves together. In this crazy world, we’re just two broken souls; one trying to move on, one trying to forget.