“Should I get the belt?” But she didn’t give him a chance to answer before she reached down and cupped his erection through his underwear, stroking his hard length.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
Watching him shudder for her did nothing to cool her ardor. His green gaze burned into her and lust tightened his features. His cock pulsed against her palm, and she wanted him inside her. Now. She couldn’t wait. “How quickly can you get a condom?”
He was out of bed and out of his boxers so fast she was surprised he didn’t get fabric burn. He fished a rubber out of his bag, had it on in seconds, and rejoined her on the mattress before she could blink. He pulled her leg over his hip, opening her for him, and pierced her in one swift thrust.
Deep moans spilled from both of them. He was huge, stretching her to the limit, just the way she liked. A perfect fit. The thought made her soul ache, but she pushed that feeling away and focused on this moment with Ben.
He pulled back and drove into her again. She moved with him, tightening her leg around his waist every time he withdrew. Their breath rushed in ragged gasps, sweat slicking their skin. He palmed her breast and tweaked her nipple with each thrust, ratcheting up her need. Very, very soon she was going to spiral out of control.
She clamped her inner muscles around him, wanting to make him as wild as he made her. He groaned her name, driving into her swifter and swifter, deeper and deeper. It was too much, and she broke far faster than she wanted to.
Her body bowed in a hard arc, sealing her tight to the base of his dick. Inner muscles squeezing around his cock, she imploded in his arms. Intense pleasure seared through her, making her quake as spasms wracked her.
“Nora, I—” Whatever he would have said was swept away by the harsh groan that tore from his lips. He shuddered against her, in her.
She forced herself not to look away, to capture every single moment of this and never forget it. Just because she couldn’t trust, didn’t mean she couldn’t feel and so many emotions swept through her that there was no pinning them down. There was no control, no logic, no reason. A tear trickled from the corner of her eye, a sob breaking free.
She pressed her face to his chest, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Gulping in breaths, she tried to get a grip. It took a long time to settle down, for her pulse to stop racing, for her breathing to slow, for sanity to return.
Making herself let him go, she pulled back to look at him. “We should go. You don’t want to be late.”
He nodded, shutting his eyes for a moment. “You’re right.”
She wished she wasn’t, wished that there was a way to hold on to this forever, but it would only hurt them both if she tried. Because she knew forever was a fairytale.
“Share the shower with me?” His expression turned pious. “It conserves water, and we are in a drought.”
She couldn’t help a laugh. “Sure, let’s save the planet.”
After another round of love making under the shower, they dressed and headed for her car. He plucked her keys from her fingers. “I know it’s weird, but I’d rather not be driven today.”
“Okay.” Before this week, she would have argued with him. Getting driven around in her own vehicle had symbolism she didn’t like, but…she decided to pick her battles today. Did it really matter if he drove? Not really. Did she have bigger problems to deal with? Definitely. So she got in the passenger’s seat without another word.
It took no time at all to arrive at his condo, and he pulled into a free space next to his carport. He turned off the Impala, popped the trunk, and got out, leaving her scrambling behind him in confusion.
That was it? Was he not even going to say goodbye? She stepped from the car, and found him transferring his bag to his car. He slammed his trunk and then hers.
She stood there, folded her arms around herself, and felt gutted. This was it. Everything they’d had, everything they’d done, would evaporate as if it had never been. Except for Hazel—who’d keep it to herself—no one they knew would ever be the wiser. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Then why did the backs of her eyes burn and his image blur before her?
She blinked and shook herself. Get a grip, Nora. This is for the best and you know it.
He approached her, proffering her keys. She took them, attempting a smile and failing. “Well.”
“Nora…” He cupped her face in his palms, his gaze intense. “Tell me there’s no chance at all of ever changing your mind about us. Tell me you could never find a way to trust me or believe in a future for us. Look me in the eyes and say it and I’ll get in my car, drive away, and never mention this again.”
Her mouth opened to do just that, but nothing came out.
His eyebrows lifted, and his hands dropped to bracket her shoulders. “Nora?”
“I’m so confused.” She tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t let her. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Understood. But I’m not sure I can give up on you.”
Tears threatened again, so many things she shouldn’t feel swirling within her. “I don’t want to get hurt, Ben. At the same time, I don’t want to hurt you.”
A half-grin quirked his mouth. “None of this is you saying that there’s no chance.”
No, it wasn’t, and she still couldn’t make herself say the words that would send him away forever. “I’m scared.”
“So am I, but I can’t seem to stop myself.” He kissed her, the contact soft and sweet and lingering. “Take some time to think. You know what I want, and I’m not yet convinced you don’t want the same thing. Even if it’s scary.”
The metal edges of her keys bit into her palm as she squeezed tight, trying to keep from reaching for him. “It’s smarter not to take this particular risk. There are too many complications—not just for us but for our families.”
“I disagree.”
She snorted. “There’s a shocker.”
“Our families will adjust, no matter what happens. Whether we stayed together for a few months or stuck it out for the long haul. Your mom might have a meltdown or twelve, but what else is new?” He smiled, the look filled with a hope she couldn’t begin to match. “I need to run, but this discussion isn’t finished.”
She didn’t say anything, because she shouldn’t agree and she couldn’t disagree.
“There’s something else you should think about while you’re considering what you want to do.”
“What?”
He caught her face between his palms again. “I love you. I always have, even if I did a piss poor job of showing it. I have a feeling I’ll love you until the day I die. So, no matter what complications you’re worried about, know that there’s no way I can escape this unscathed. I don’t even want to. These last few days have been some of the best of my life, even with all the craziness we handled.” Another quick kiss and he stepped away from her, but his gaze seared into her. “We’ve changed things between us and, no matter where we go from here, it’ll never be the same again. I’m glad about that, and I hope you will be too someday. I love you.” He held up his hands. “Don’t say anything. Just think about it.”
The breath stopped in her lungs, and her keys fell from her nerveless fingers. Nothing he could have said would have shocked her more. She stood there with her mouth hanging open while he got in his car and drove to work.
She’d been right—the whole world had gone sideways.
Chapter Eleven
Ben sent her flowers at work that night. Nora had no clue how he got a delivery guy to show up at midnight, but she had a gorgeous bunch of purple tulips. Her favorite. How Ben recalled that, she didn’t know. She couldn’t even remember ever telling him which flowers she liked or how she took her coffee or that she preferred egg-white omelets. He’d been paying a lot more attention over the years than she would have expected, and not just to things that he could use against her in an argum
ent. Because how useful were eggs in a verbal spat?
Then again, he’d apparently loved her forever. All those years she’d thought he hated her and she’d burned with loathing whenever he was nearby, he’d loved her.
Hazel had been right, after all.
There was no way he’d have admitted to loving Nora if he didn’t mean it, but how did she feel? He’d asked her to think about what he’d said, and there was little else on her mind.
The flowers only made her think of him more often. She tried not to coo over the bouquet, but failed miserably. The other nurses had a field day teasing her about her mystery man, but she ignored the playful ribbing. She could have lied and said they were from one of her sisters, but she didn’t. Even she wasn’t sure why—maybe she needed there to be some acknowledgement, no matter how small, of what she’d been through. Things had changed forever, but what that would mean was still unclear. It could mean nothing. Or everything.
Worse, she missed him. There was a constant, nagging ache in her chest she didn’t want to acknowledge. More than once, she turned to tell him something, only to realize he wasn’t there. Her contact with him now would be limited to the occasional family get-together whenever Anne happened to be in town. Other than the baby shower—which Ben might not even come to—there were no upcoming holidays to worry about.
So if she wanted contact with him, she’d have to seek it out herself.
When she got home just after noon the next day and found another bouquet waiting for her, she let herself be weak and texted him a thank you. It was only polite, right?
His reply was straight to the point and so very like him: I miss you. I hated sleeping alone last night.
It took every last scrap of her resolve not to invite him over for a lunchtime nooner. Instead she sent back, I was working, so you’d have been alone no matter what. Bedtime for me now. Goodnight, Ben.
But the doorway for communication had been opened, and he took advantage. His texts the next day went from funny to flirtatious to downright filthy. She shouldn’t have replied, shouldn’t have encouraged him, but damn, he was all kinds of wicked and knew just how to bait her. Too tempting to resist.
When she checked her phone after she got off work, she discovered she’d missed a call from him and there was a message waiting. Considering how hot his texts had been, she waited until she was ensconced in the privacy of her bedroom before she pushed the button to listen.
“Hey, sweetheart.” His deep rumbling tone sent a tingle over her skin. She sat on the edge of her mattress, listening. “I know you won’t get this until you get home, but since you like the sound of my voice, I thought you might enjoy this more than a text. I’m not sure how long your voicemail will let me talk before it cuts off, but let’s find out.”
Oh God. What would he say? With Ben, anything was possible. He rarely filtered himself with her. She’d often hated that, but she’d found reasons to cherish it.
“I’m laying here in bed, wishing you were next to me. If you were here, I wouldn’t be able to stop kissing you. Everywhere. I love the way you taste—your mouth, that little spot at base of your throat that makes you squirm, your tight nipples—ah, it’s so good. But nothing beats kissing my way down your stomach, sucking on your little clit, and shoving my tongue deep inside you.” A low groan filtered through the phone, and her body went up in flames. Her breasts grew heavy and ached, and moisture pooled between her thighs. She pressed a palm to her belly, gasping for air. Far too easily, she could imagine him doing exactly what he described. He’d done it just the other day.
But he wasn’t finished. No, there was more torment in store for her.
“But tasting you wouldn’t be enough, sweetheart. It never is, is it? I’d have to touch every inch of you, feel you quiver under my hands.” The rough silk of his voice stroked over her flesh, and she could picture his hands on her, turning her into a wanton creature that thought only of pleasure.
“You’re so perfect in bed, Nora. You’ve got this cool and collected thing going on most of the time, but between the sheets you’re hotter than fire. I love the way you claw my back and scream my name when I slide into you.” His breathing was ragged, and that just turned her on even more. It was all she could do not to slip her hand into her panties and tease herself to an orgasm while listening to him. She bit back a whimper, not wanting to miss a single word he said.
“Do you have any idea what it does to me when you’re so wet it’s all I can do not to come the second I get inside you? I have to hold back, because I don’t want it to be over too quickly.” He hissed in a breath. “I won’t lie. I’m stroking myself right now just thinking about you.”
Jesus. Her pussy clenched, and she moaned.
“Being buried inside you is close to nirvana, it’s so fucking amazing. I want to stay there forever, but I couldn’t stop moving if there was a gun to my head.” A laugh that was edged in irony spilled from him, and she could hear the quiet skin-on-skin slap of him fisting his cock. “It can be fast and rough or slow and soft, but in the end, it’s all the same. There’s this moment where your eyes lose focus and I know you’re about to come for me. Ah, fuck, that’s the best par—”
The phone beeped, the message ended abruptly, and her body went into mourning. All that was left was the sound of her own ragged breathing in the silence of her empty bedroom. She closed her eyes, shuddering with unspent need.
There was no way she trusted herself to call him, so she sent a quick text and shut down her phone. I’m going to have some very dirty dreams now and it’s all your fault.
She wasn’t too proud to spend some quality time with her vibrator, but she managed not to turn on her phone and give him a booty call. It wouldn’t help either of them. She shouldn’t even be letting it go as far as she was, not unless she was going to pursue something with him, and she still wasn’t convinced they could make anything other than sex work between them. The sex, they had down pat, even over the phone. She went to bed and had every single one of the filthy dreams she’d expected.
When she woke late that afternoon, she switched on her cell and found a message from him. You’re welcome. Feel free to return the favor.
Even the thought of leaving him a naughty voicemail made her flush. That would be way too much encouragement, when she should be pulling back. She stared down at her phone, trying to decide what to do, and it rang in her hand, making her heart jolt.
Hazel’s name and number popped up. Nora swiped her thumb across the screen to answer. “Hey, Hazel.”
“Hey, sis, how’s it going?”
A laugh straggled out of her, and she scrubbed a hand over her forehead. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean? What happened?” Hazel became alarmed. “You’re upset. Is it Ben? I told that bastard if he hurt you I’d eviscerate his ass. I’m going to—”
“Wait, what?” Nora sat up straighter in bed. “When did that happen?”
A pause. “Uh…right before I got him to confess he was in love with you.”
“He mentioned the love part, not that you threatened him,” she said faintly.
So, he’d sorted out his feelings—or Hazel had forced him to—well before he’d told her about them. It hadn’t been a spur of the moment confession. That didn’t change what he’d said, but it seemed significant that half the time they’d been sleeping together, he’d already gotten beyond acknowledging he loved her. When he’d told her that her opinion of him mattered, he wanted to redeem himself for past wrongs, and he wanted her to like him, he’d already been certain it was far more than like on his side.
Unable to sit still, she rose from bed and went to brush her teeth.
Hazel squawked. “He told you he loved you? Yes! I told him to. And, also, I told you so.”
Spitting out toothpaste, Nora narrowed her eyes. She jammed her fist onto her hip, even though her sister couldn’
t see. “What else did you tell him? Or what else did he tell you?”
“Pfft. That’s not important. The important part is whether or not I need to set an electric eel loose in his bed.”
“Hazel! Jesus, don’t even think about it.” Because even though Hazel was the quietest of the Kirbys, she was a master of the evil revenge plots. Nora didn’t think she’d put an eel in his bed—the eel might get injured—but she’d definitely think up something equally bone-chilling.
“Too late, clearly,” Hazel answered cheerily, but then her tone grew serious. “So…did he hurt you?”
Nora rinsed her mouth and shook her head. “I don’t even know how to answer that.”
“Did you hurt him?” Sympathy reflected in her sister’s voice.
Dropping her toothbrush to the counter, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Maybe. And the longer it takes me to figure out what I want, the worse I’m going to end up hurting him. Right now, he thinks he’s wearing me down. And maybe he is.”
“Oh, hon. What happened?”
Words came tumbling out of her, and she wandered around her house aimlessly. “I don’t know what to do, Hazel. He says he loves me, that he’s had a crush on me since junior high, but he’s been such a jerk. How do I even begin to decide what to do with that? How do I trust it when he says he wants us to play nice and be together? Do I want a guy who’s spent years relishing stomping on all my hot buttons?”
“There’s something to be said for a man who knows how to push your buttons,” Hazel mused. “It’s far better than a man who bores the crap out of you. The button pusher knows how you tick, he gets you. That can be a good thing too.”
“A mixed blessing, at best.”
“Most blessings are, really. You just have to figure out if the good parts are worth dealing with the bad parts. And—hang on,” Hazel interrupted herself. “I sent you something. It should be getting there now.”
Ensenada Escapade: Destination: Desire, Book 6 Page 16