I’d forgotten how it felt to let pleasure creep up gradually, building and building until it could no longer be denied. Without warning, Bennett took hold of my hips and rolled onto his back, landing me on top of him. I gasped at the sudden change in position, and for a moment, I was at a loss for what to do.
“Ride me,” Bennett murmured, sliding a hand up my stomach to cup my breast, fingers teasing over one taut nipple. “I want to watch you.”
Breathing evenly, I began to move, first just a tentative roll of my hips, and then gradually settling into a smooth rhythm. I hadn’t realized before how good this could be. I’d never set my own pace, controlled my own penetration.
My hands came to rest on Bennett’s shoulders, and I settled into a rhythm that progressively increased in pace, until I was gripping his shoulders tightly, riding him for all I was worth. His cock felt enormous inside of me, filling me, pressing into me at the perfect angle. I ground my hips down onto his, and my climax came in such a rush that it took me by surprise. My eyes flew open, and I gasped Bennett’s name. In response, he squeezed my hips tightly, thrusting upwards, hard and deep, filling me again and again until he was coming too, my name on his lips.
I all but collapsed onto his chest, completely spent, curled against him, my head tucked into his shoulder. “This is perfect,” I said. “I just want to stay here forever.”
Bennett laughed softly and pressed a kiss to my temple. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
As it turned out, the nothing I hadn’t seen yet was a breathtaking view of the ranch property that could only be had from the top of a ridge on the northern side. I’d saddled up Domino again, and Bennett had led me up a twisting trail, higher and higher, until we reached an outcropping that looked over the valley where the main buildings were located. We tied the horses to a tree, and Bennett took my hand, leading me nearly to the edge.
That morning I had put on the ring he had given me for the first time. This place, that feeling I had had the night before, him under me, trusting me to take the lead, to set the pace. No man had ever offered me that before. He had made me feel... safe. Which meant that wearing his ring finally felt right.
As he took my hand in his he must have felt the cool band of metal, and so he lifted my hand up to inspect it. “Almost as beautiful as you are.” I giggled at his corny line.
Then I turned to look out over the edge he had just led me to, and my breath caught.
The house, the lake, the cabins, they were laid out in front of me like a model railroad set, perfect and picturesque. I stared at them for a few moments, awestruck, before I looked back over to him with a teasing smile. “So, since we’re married, does that mean this is all mine, too?” But his eyes were focused on my ring, he seemed not to even hear me.
“Hey,” I said, pulling his attention back up to my face. “I love it,” I tried to say reassuringly, and I squeezed his hand for emphasis.
Bennett looked away without answering my previous question, or commenting about the ring, and before I could ask him what was wrong, a stiff wind blew across the ridge, making goosebumps rise on my skin.
“Are you cold?” he asked, shrugging off his jacket to lay it across my shoulders. Looking at him now, so attentive to my needs and comfort, I couldn’t help thinking my drunk self hadn’t made such a bad decision after all. I could do a lot worse for a husband.
“Not anymore,” I answered, shifting closer, leaning against him as his arms wrapped around me reflexively. “Are you?”
“How could I be with you to keep me warm?”
I smiled up at him, rising up on my tiptoes to press my lips to his.
Before long, the kiss deepened, and Bennett was pulling me closer. The wind had passed and the sun was high, but even if it hadn’t been, I don’t think either of us would have felt the cold as we eagerly pulled at each other’s clothes, grinning and laughing until we were laying across a blanket made up of our discarded outfits, arms wrapped around each other, lost in this moment; in this string of perfect moments.
His mouth was on mine, and he murmured endearments to me as he shifted his weight, pulling my legs up around his hips. I reached up to touch his cheek and whispered, “I’m so glad I married you….”
18
Bennett
“I’m so glad I married you….”
Her words crashed over me like a bucket of ice water. Even if I’d been able to push past the tightness of my throat, I couldn’t have continued. The words made me recoil automatically. I didn’t even realize I’d pulled away from her until she spoke, her words soft and confused. “What’s wrong, Cowboy? Bennett?”
“Shitfingers,” I muttered, pulling myself up and reaching for my boxers at the same time as I tossed my coat to Ava.
“Bennett?” Ava asked again. I was struggling into my underwear, and she just held the coat at her side as she stood, still beautifully, temptingly naked in the fading sunlight.
“Put that on,” I said, stepping toward her to help her into it.
She stepped back, stumbling a little. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Please,” I said, turning away from her, needing to put distance between us. I couldn’t possibly say what I needed to say while she was naked and wet and… “Shitfingers.”
“Okay, okay,” Ava muttered, and I heard the rustling of cloth. “Now will you tell me what’s wrong so we can get back to our honeymoon?”
I turned around slowly to make sure she’d put it on. She was already going to hate me. No need to make it worse by embarrassing her. “I can do one of those two, but not both,” I said, feeling my mouth twist into a grimace.
“Bennett?” Her voice was suffused with concern now. She stepped toward me, but I held up a hand, stepping back. It wasn’t that I was worried she would hit me when I finally came clean, although that was a very real possibility.
“Trust me on this,” I said. “You’re not gonna want to be near me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Bennett,” Ava said, laughing softly and taking another step in my direction. She no longer seemed as sure of herself, though, and the confused look in her eyes was making me feel worse.
“Seriously, don’t,” I answered, my voice getting serious and my feet stepping back again.
She stopped, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay,” she nodded, holding her hands up as well, as though we needed that wall between us. “Okay, I’ll stay here, just... tell me what’s wrong? Why won’t I want to be near you?” I could hear the concern in her voice veiled behind a hopeful note of skepticism. I had done that. It was my fault she trusted me. That she didn’t want to believe that anything I had to say now was going to be that bad.
When we started all of this, I definitely wasn’t trying to break through the wall that she had built because of her ex. Hell, I didn’t even know about it. But somehow, I’d done it, and now, even though she really shouldn’t, Ava trusted me so much that even while I was threatening that trust, she wasn’t ready to believe it. She wanted to believe in me. In us.
This girl was amazing, and now I had to break her heart.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, dropping my arms to my sides. My gaze fell somewhere around her perfect, tiny feet. I couldn’t look her in the eye. Not now. “Because I have something to tell you, and when I tell you, you’re going to hate me.”
“Bennett….” When I saw her feet move, I glanced up sharply. She took a startled step back. “Sorry,” she muttered, her demeanor finally changing. Her guard starting to come up. Her spine stiffened, and her fingers tapped against the canvas of my coat. “Just... tell me whatever it is you need to tell me.”
Her voice had changed as well, wary now, and I wondered if there were more to the story with her and her manager than just the pictures on the internet. I wondered just how badly this was going to hurt her.
“I….” I took another deep breath. This was even harder than I’d imagined it would be, and she looked so... fragile, standing there
in the sunset, my coat too big on her petite frame. I knew I had to say something, though, even if it might break her. Letting her find out some other way would be much, much worse.
Swallowing hard, I started again. “I’m not your husband.”
I heard her intake of breath from several feet away, but her voice was barely audible when she whispered, “What?”
“I’m... I’m not your husband,” I said again. “We didn’t get married that night. We just met in a bar and got drunker together and had one incredible, mind-altering night of sex, and then... I made the rest of it up.”
Her mouth hung open, and her face seemed to be caught between anger and pain. “You... you made it up? The marriage? Why? Why would you do that?”
“Because I…,” I turned away from her, ashamed that I didn’t have a better reason than my own pride and stupidity. “I was angry you didn’t remember me, and I... I guess I just thought it would be funny.”
For a long moment, there was no response, then Ava’s voice came, cold and hard. “You thought it would be funny.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered it anyway. “Yeah, you know. Like a good prank. I say we’re married, make you believe it for a few hours. You slap me when I confess, and then we laugh about it. You get a ring for your troubles, I walk away with another good story.”
“For a few hours?” her voice rose in disbelief, and I turned back to look at her. “It’s been over a week, Bennett.”
“I know,” I said, searching for anything at all that made that okay. “I was going to tell you in the lobby, but then Layla showed up, and then again on the plane, and then…. I don’t know. Every time I wanted to tell you, something seemed to convince me to put it off and then eventually… I guess I just became too afraid to say anything.”
“Too afraid to man up to your mistakes?”
“Too afraid to lose you.”
She was quiet for a long time. The sun dipped below the horizon, and we both just stood there, looking at each other.
Eventually she found the words she was looking for. “You’re despicable.”
“I know,” I agreed, miserable at how well she could see the truth and feeling guilty, for the first time in a long time, about how I’d made a person feel.
“And you’re an asshole,” she added.
It wasn’t that I disagreed with that assessment, but I was so shocked to hear the word come from Ava’s mouth that I didn’t move immediately. She stomped, barefoot and naked except for my jacket, back to the horses and had Domino untethered before I even started to follow.
“Ava!” I shouted, grabbing my jeans and following. “Ava, wait.”
But she was off already. It took me way too long to get my jeans on, and I was still stumbling over them as I pulled on my boots. I wanted to race after her, catch her before she got to the house. Not that I had any sort of plan of what to do then.
Instead, I made myself slow down, go back for our clothes and Ava’s shoes. My instinct was to race after her, but it was my instinct that had gotten me into this mess to begin with, so ignoring it seemed like a much better plan. I needed to give her time. She had every right to be mad at me, and she clearly wanted to get away.
Even so, once I had Rosie untethered and mounted, I urged her into a gallop, taking her back down the path, only slowing when it was too unsafe not to. I might not care about what would happen to me if we fell, but Rosie deserved better than that. Too many people had been hurt by my impulsiveness.
Still, I knew my purpose now. I knew why I had to rush. I had to get back before Ava convinced River to drive her to the airport. I needed to see her one more time, just to make sure she’d be okay.
Domino was tied up to the rail by the patio, and I quickly secured Rosie there as well. I was still shrugging on my shirt when I made it into the house. River stood just outside my office, his hair mussed, shirt and shoes missing.
“Man, I’m sorry. It’s bad.” He looked miserable as he shrugged in defeat, as if upset at himself that he had no words of wisdom to offer. He gestured inside.
I stepped into the room to see Ava at my desk, still only wearing my jacket. Her mouth was open in shock, Layla at her side, both of them staring at the monitor. As I strode across the room to her, I saw why.
My home page was MSNBC, and right there, front and center, was a picture of the woman I now knew had played Ava’s mom on her show. Underneath were the words, “Fiona Watts Promises Tell-All on America’s Sweetheart Ava Cassidy.”
Ava just stared at the screen, dumbstruck, frozen. I wanted to go to her, pull her into my arms and promise to make everything okay, but I knew I couldn’t, knew she wouldn’t want that. I’d given up my right to offer anything of the sort. I’d become just another problem in her life that she wanted to escape from, another asshole she couldn’t trust.
I had to do something, though. I couldn’t just stand there without trying to help. “Ava... you can stay. If you want, you can stay here. You don’t have to go back if you’re not ready. I’ll even... I’ll leave, and you can stay here with Layla, and….”
I trailed off as she turned to me, that same cold fury on her face that I’d seen on the mountain. Without saying a word, she stood and walked out of the room, poised and practiced.
Layla whistled. “Dude, I don’t know what you did, but it was hella bad, and for that, I am pissed at you.” Then she left, trailing quickly after her friend.
“You and me both,” I answered, now speaking only to myself. I dropped into my now vacant office chair and buried my face in my hands.
19
Ava
It was difficult to pack with my vision blurred from tears, but somehow I managed it. Mostly, I just threw anything that looked like it might be mine into my bag. I could sort it out properly once I got home.
Oh, god. Home. I didn’t even have a home to go to. I couldn’t go back to Ken’s.
The thought brought me up short, and it was only then I realized I was still wearing Bennett’s jacket. I wanted to throw it off. Crumple it up and toss it over the balcony. Burn it, maybe.
But I also wanted to curl up in its warmth and smell Bennett’s cologne and be comforted.
I slid down the side of the bed to the floor, pulling the jacket tight around me, and wept into the collar.
Really wept, too. Big, snotty, ugly-crying sobs.
God, I was so stupid. So stupid. Was I really that desperate, that afraid of being alone that I’d believe the first random stranger who said we’d gotten married in a drunken revel in Vegas? He’d made me happy for a few days, but the whole time—the whole time—he was lying to me. This place, this retreat away from all my troubles, it was all too good to be true, and I should have known that.
There was a soft noise by the door, someone clearing their throat. I looked up to see Layla there, holding a bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other.
“I don’t know what the asshole did, but I am fully prepared to take your side,” she said. “Also, I have whiskey.”
“I’m not sure alcohol is the best choice for me right now,” I said dryly, as Layla dropped next to me on the floor.
“Hey,” she said with a shrug, setting the glasses down and filling them generously. “You’re spending your honeymoon naked and crying, booze is the only choice.”
“You have a point,” I answered, sniffling a little and then glancing around for a tissue.
“Wipe it on his sleeve,” Layla suggested. “He deserves it.”
“You have another point,” I agreed, wiping my nose on the sleeve of his jacket.
“So.” She handed me one glass and took the other herself. “Are you going to tell me what he did, or are we going to drink in silence?”
I took a long drink before answering, feeling the alcohol burn down my throat, fighting against the numbness that was beginning to set in.
“We’re not married,” I admitted once I’d finished. As hard as it had been to believe in the marriage at first, it was alm
ost as equally difficult to believe it was all just a big lie, now.
Layla was in the middle of a drink, and she very calmly finished it and set her glass down. “Excuse me?”
“Bennett and I,” I clarified. “We’re not married. It was... it was a joke. A practical joke. He made it all up. The Elvis impersonator, the marriage license, the... the ring.” I looked down at my left hand where what I’d begun to think of as my ring was sparkling as though it weren’t a symbol of betrayal.
“Okay, the second you tell me you aren’t fucking with me, I am going to go castrate him,” Layla said, already starting to stand.
I grabbed her arm to pull her down, sloshing a little whiskey on Bennett’s coat in the process. “Don’t. Please, just… don’t. I just want to get out of here and go….” Somewhere. Not home, but somewhere, anywhere I didn’t have to think about Bennett Dallas Campbell.
“What am I going to do? I can’t go back. I have no job, no... no home. I’m just….”
Layla shifted closer, slinging her arm around me, not at all weirded out that I was basically naked. It was such a Layla thing to do, to roll with the punches. I wished I could be like her, just once, just able to let life happen and figure it out as it came.
I’d never done that. When I’d gone into acting, my mom had sat down with Ken to work out a five-year plan, what I should be doing, how I should be improving, where I should try to break in. Then when I’d left home, Ken had rewritten the plan. He told me where to go and when to be there, and I never had to do any of it myself. He basically controlled everything about my life. I never had to make any of the hard decisions.
Maybe that was why I’d so easily believed Bennett. I was just letting someone else make the plan again.
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