by Ann, Natalie
***
Three hours later, Ben held the front door to her apartment open with his foot while he carried several bags. She followed behind with her arms loaded down as well. “That was great. I can’t believe how much I bought today.”
“Yeah, great,” he mumbled.
“I heard that. You had fun, admit it. You even bought a few shirts.”
“I didn’t have much choice with you throwing them at me one after another. You’re worse than my mother.”
She giggled. “You’re comparing me to your mother. I’m not sure if that is sweet or creepy.”
“Don’t push it, Presley. What do you want me to do with all of these?” he said, holding up his arms while the bags all bounced into each other. “I thought this was supposed to be a day for Christmas shopping. It seems to me all you did was buy stuff for yourself.”
“That’s right, I did. I bought myself Christmas presents.”
“Talk about creepy.”
She held her smile, even though there was no joy behind it. It was creepy and a bit sad, she knew that. But it made her feel better to buy a bunch of things and put them under the tree anyway. She had been doing that since she was kid.
If she wanted gifts under the tree she had to buy them herself. And wrap them and sign her mother’s name to them. Otherwise there would be nothing there on Christmas morning—not even a tree—if she didn’t go pick it out herself and decorate it.
“You won’t be thinking creepy thoughts later,” she said smirking, trying to erase the bad memories of past Christmases.
“All I know is your surprise better be a good one.”
“It will be,” she called over her shoulder as she walked into her bedroom with Ben on her heels. “Let me just pack quickly and then we can run to the grocery store and go to your place.”
“We have to go to another store?” he asked, a pained expression on his face.
She bit her tongue, but he looked so darn cute. Her big tough guy, all flustered over spending the day shopping and having to go to another store. Oh, she planned on making it up to him all right. “I’m going to cook dinner for you. I doubt you have food in your house, but I could be wrong.”
“I’ve got food in my house. What did you plan on cooking?”
“What’s your favorite?”
“I’m not sure I want to tell you my favorite, because if you make it and I don’t like it, then I would be forced to lie to you,” he said, his face serious, his eyes anything but.
Regardless of the amusement evident in his eyes, she fought not to be insulted over her cooking. Granted, she hadn’t really cooked much for him other than some quick breakfasts, but she was a damn good cook.
She had been cooking since she was twelve. She’d had no choice, unless she wanted to eat frozen foods or take-out. “I guess you will just have to be surprised then. And no lying. If it’s bad, then tell me so.”
He snorted. “Yeah, like that will go over well.”
Grabbing jeans and a shirt, she threw them in her overnight bag. “Are you afraid of me?” she asked, conceited. Now wouldn’t that be funny, she thought to herself.
“I’m just afraid you won’t follow through with your surprise if I tell you your cooking is bad.”
He laughed when she shot him a nasty look. “I guess you will have to take your chances tonight then, won’t you? I forgot to check my mail. Can you see if anything was there for me?”
She waited until he was out of the room and then quickly sorted the bags, looking for the right one, and threw that in her overnight bag, too. It was her lucky day. He happened to get a call while they were shopping and needed to find a quiet place to take it, allowing her time to make a purchase without his knowledge.
Say It
Watching Ben devour his second stuffed pork chop gave Presley a ridiculous sense of pride. Luckily she had bought three large pork chops, along with the makings for bread stuffing and the potatoes to bake. Her first instinct had been to give him leftovers, now she was just glad she had enough to feed him a meal.
She took one last bite of her potato and pushed her plate away, satisfied to relax for the moment. She had no intention of overstuffing herself. She had plans for tonight and having a full belly would only get in the way.
“Either you like my cooking or you’re a really good liar,” she said, rubbing it in.
“If you’ve ever eaten anything like I have on a mission, you would think a fresh sandwich was gourmet.”
“Oh, so it’s not my cooking, but rather your weak taste buds.”
“Are you done?” he asked, ignoring her comment and eying her plate that still had a quarter of her pork chop left. When she nodded he speared it with his fork and transferred it to his plate. “This is really good.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am surprised. But pleased just the same.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, causing him to chuckle. Picking up her wine, she took a small sip. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but the occasional glass of wine didn’t bother her. “Well then, I guess my surprise is done for the night.”
“Oh no. No way. You owe me for today.”
“You make it sound like torture,” she said, setting her glass back down.
“It was. I’ve gone through SEAL training that was less stressful than walking through the mall today.”
She knew he was joking but glared at him just the same. If he really hated it that much but still went with her, then she was more touched than she cared to say. When he pushed his plate away and sat back, she asked, “You full now?”
He looked at the stove. “Do you have anymore?”
“No,” she said. “But there is some broccoli left.”
With a wrinkle of his nose, he said, “I’ll pass.”
No wonder there. She hadn’t missed him choking a few pieces down. But he didn’t tell her he didn’t like it, so he got credit for that.
She stood up, grabbed her plate and walked to the sink to rinse it out. She jumped when he laid his hand on her backside. “How do you do that?”
“What?” he asked innocently.
“Sneak up on me. I don’t understand how someone as big as you makes no noise when he moves.”
He shrugged and walked back to the table to gather the rest of the dishes. Together they made quick work of cleaning up.
“Now it’s time for my real surprise, and it better be good,” he said swatting her on the butt.
“And what if it’s not?” she asked, challenging him.
“Then I’ll just take over for myself.”
She saw he wasn’t joking, not one bit, and hoped he didn’t see the shiver that ran through her body.
***
“Just give me a few minutes to get ready,” she told him after they walked into his bedroom.
“Ready? This is getting better and better.”
“Oh, believe me, I’ll make it up to you for dragging you to the mall.”
She rushed into the bathroom where she had dropped the bag earlier, quickly undressed and tied her hair back out of the way. Pulling the pink retail bag out of her overnight bag, she opened it up and removed the tags from the white silk teddy she had seen in the window display.
It had been close, but she’d managed to run into the store fast, grab her size off the rack, and rush to the counter to pay before Ben returned from his phone call. Now she pulled it over her head and tied the silk ribbon between her breasts, drawing it together. The waist was sheer netting and the bottom of the teddy was silk again.
Quickly securing the snaps between her legs, she took one final look at herself in the full-length mirror. Turning once, she looked at her behind and saw it barely covered her—just like she wanted. She hoped he liked his surprise.
Opening the door, she was the one who got the shock, and she was afraid he heard her gasp. She knew he had to have seen her freeze.
There he was, in the middle of the room, arms crossed in front of him, legs shoulder width
apart, biceps tugging his shirt tight. The smile across his face a total contradiction to the intimidating stance he held. And there was enough heat in his eyes to set the house ablaze.
Taking a deep breath, she used her best strut forward, stopping right in front of him and mimicking his stance. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she returned it, then met him stare for stare.
She decided to make the first move; after all it was her surprise. Uncrossing her arms, she wound them around his neck, leaned in close and asked in a silky voice, “Do you like?”
One second she was waiting for his response, the next she was laying on her back on the bed. She had no idea what had happened, it was just a blur. She was in his arms, shifted once and then he laid her down as he came over her, his jeans and shirt rubbing against her bare skin, making her squirm.
He kissed her hard, held her still, his hands trapping hers to the bed above her head. The blood was rushing so fast and loud in her ears, she thought surely she was going deaf. But she wasn’t deaf at all, because she heard every word he slowly whispered in her ear a minute later. “I’m going to make you beg tonight.”
She shook her head, helpless to speak, but he didn’t care. “Trust me, you will beg me tonight.”
No way. She wasn’t doing it. She had more willpower than that. He could try, but it wasn’t happening. She held those words back. He wasn’t the type of person you challenged, she knew.
His lips moved from her ear to her neck, then down her chest, and over her breast. Her nipples were pebbling through the silk, the smooth texture a form of torture in itself. And he took advantage of it, pulling her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around, then sucking some more. When she thought he was done, he only moved his mouth a tad and blew hot breaths against her. The wet material that was sticking to her slowly peeled off and the sensation was more than she could bear. She had no control of the groan that escaped her lips.
He moved to the other side and repeated the same actions, until the top of her teddy was wet and clinging to her. She couldn’t even grip his head or hold him—he still had her hands trapped above her head. But she refused to ask him to let go. She wasn’t going to speak a word to him.
Agonizing minutes later, he made his way down her stomach, kissing, licking and sucking, wetting the material there too. Then blowing on it again, letting it stick to her, then peel away. At last he let go of her hands, traveling further down her body.
He was relentless, soaking the silk material between her legs. Running his tongue along the edge of the teddy, then inside and out again. Teasing her mercilessly. She just wanted him to undo the snaps but wouldn’t ask. Refusing to give him the satisfaction.
Grabbing his head and holding him there, she hoped he got the hint, but he didn’t. He just pushed the wet material into her, then blew on it again as it dried and pulled away from her.
She honestly wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Biting her bottom lip hadn’t stopped the moans from escaping and she was only causing herself pain. He knew what she wanted, but he wasn’t giving it to her.
The frustration of it all was driving her insane. Finally though, he slid one finger inside of her, and her hips jerked off the bed, pushing her closer to his mouth. Still, he refused to give her what she wanted, just continued to torment her, bringing her to the edge of madness, trying to get her to say the words she refused to voice.
In and out he went, his mouth, lips, and his breath blowing. She was right there, he knew it, she could tell, but he kept stopping and starting over, until she wanted to scream, every nerve standing on end.
He looked up at her, grinned wickedly and finally sent her over the edge. Her hips lifting up higher and faster while his mouth moved around with his finger inside of her. She was so limp and utterly spent, she barely registered that he didn’t make her beg, that she actually won.
***
It was all part of Ben’s plan. He knew Presley was strong, but he hadn’t expected her to hold out this much or this long. Now he was looking forward to hearing her beg. But in all honesty, he was slowly losing his own control.
He made quick work of undressing, then grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer. She was lying there all smug and sure of herself. But she had a lot to learn, and he couldn’t wait to teach her.
He straddled her waist, placed his hands over her chest, caressed her softly, watching her eyes lighten just a fraction, and in one swift motion ripped the teddy apart, exposing her to him.
“Hey,” she said.
“I’ll buy you another one. Then I’ll rip that one off you, too,” he said in a low voice, her body trembling, causing his smile to widen and the blood to rush through his veins.
Covering her body with his, he slid inside of her, heard her gasp of pleasure and suppressed a hoot of victory. He could go all night—she had no clue the type of control he had over his body, or his mental strength. But she was going to find out.
In and out, slow, then fast, he built her to the verge, then pulled out completely, and went back to teasing her skin, then blowing on it. The noises she made fueled him even more. So he teased her again and again, slid back inside and mentally congratulated himself when her hips slammed up into his.
He gripped her hands and restrained them to the bed above her, wanting to hold her down. Her hips started to move faster, but he pulled back. Every time she pushed up, he moved back until she stopped. Then he started the torture all over. He knew the game she was playing and he was going to win, anticipating her moves.
She was tiring, her body growing weak, but her pleasure building higher. He had her right where he wanted her. He had pushed in slowly, immobilizing her to the bed with his hips, holding her there, and refusing to give her anymore. Not until she gave him what he wanted, what he needed. Moving his lips to her ear, he whispered, “Tell me what I want to hear, Presley.”
Her head shook back and forth rapidly. She wasn’t ready to concede, yet. That was fine with him. He was enjoying it all just the same. But it was slowly killing him, not that he would admit it. He pulled her earlobe into his mouth, bit down, his hips pushing in further, sending him deeper and filling her completely. “You know you want it, Presley. All you need to do is say one word. Just one word and it’s all yours. Everything you want,” he whispered slowly, her body vibrating under his.
She was actually panting with pleasure now. His own blood was running thick and hot, powered by her reaction to everything he was doing to her. But she continued to shake her head back and forth, never giving an inch.
He wasn’t letting up though. He brought her right to the brink, heard her breath catch, then pulled out completely, and left her wanting more.
“No,” she moaned.
Waiting just enough time for her to come down, he then entered her fast again, caught her inhale with his lips, and kissed her long and hard. Moving in and out, he then halted her movements with his hips on the bed one last time. “Say it, Presley,” he whispered in her ear. “You know you want to. You know you want it.”
A few more motions of his hips, and her legs were wrapping around his waist. He was slowly losing the battle himself and wondering why he was doing this. Why he was holding out for the word. It seemed he was only tormenting himself in the process. In a frenzied motion his hips pushed into hers, faster, her hips meeting him movement for movement. “Now, Presley, give me what I want. Tell me,” he demanded.
The moment he felt her muscles constrict around him, she shouted out. “Now Ben, please, now, don’t stop.”
He was lost in that moment, slamming into her harder and harder.
Completely drained, he lay over her, keeping his weight off her body. Her breathing was hard and fast, his own not too steady.
“Two can play at that game,” she whispered.
He hoped to hell she didn’t hear the knocking of his heart, because it wasn’t from exertion.
Thanks
“Ben, wake up. Wake up, Ben.”
How had
he fallen asleep? It was his turn to stay awake, and he always did. Sleep was never an issue for him. If he needed to stay awake and alert, he was the man for it.
“Ben,” his name was called, with a nudge at his shoulder. In a panic he realized if he’d fallen asleep, then what happened to Trent? No way Trent was waking him up. Lack of sleep had always been Trent’s weakness.
There was a strong grip on his shoulder now, urging him awake. “Ben.”
He bolted upright and looked around the dark room anxiously. “Trent, where are you?” he asked frantically.
“Ben, are you okay?”
Looking around the dark room some more, he realized it was his bedroom, and he was in bed. The person that had been trying to wake him up was Presley. Dread filled him immediately, mixed with a bit of anxiety—how was he going to explain this away? He had done such a good job at keeping this part of his life a secret. Now it seemed it was thrown out in the open like a flesh-eating wound.
“Yeah,” he mumbled and lay back down, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. He needed her body heat right now to counter the freezing inside of him, the icy fingers of guilt and fear gripping at his soul.
They lay there in silence until he became aware of her hand on his, tracing his thumb that was rubbing against his ring. “Is this ring Trent’s?”
“No.”
“Does it have something to do with him?”
“Yeah.”
She exhaled softly, snuggled in closer, and threaded her fingers through his. “And you’d rather not talk about it, either.”
“Yeah.”
“Then just hold me. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
***
Presley woke early the next morning alone. She rolled and reached a hand over to feel Ben’s side of the bed. It was cold. Throwing back the covers, she sat on the side of the bed, her head in her hands, inhaling in and out, trying to get a grasp on the situation.