by Becca Lee
“It was great. Amazing, in fact.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I think I broke him,” she whispered, and looked at me with a genuine face of concern.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed and immediately regretted it when I jolted my ribs. “Ow, I’m sorry, but what are you bloody well talking about? Broke him?” Images of a broken Liam flittered through my mind, but I had no clue what she was referring to. I assumed she wasn’t serious, or he wasn’t truly broken since she’d spent the night with me.
“Stop laughing, Cougar.”
“Hey, no fair, low-blow. He’s only two years younger than I am. Now, tell me, what do you mean broken?”
With a deadpan face, she spoke in earnest. “His penis. I broke his freaking penis.”
For a moment, I thought that I misheard, a moment when I could almost hear crickets. Did she just say ... She really did ... I knew it would hurt and probably do a whole heap more damage, but damn, how could I not react by choking on my hot chocolate and spitting it out? I laughed until tears rolled down my cheeks, and clenched my side in pain when I did. “Enough ... enough ...” I was going to pee myself. I clenched my legs together to stop my pee in its tracks. There was no way I was going to give her ammo against me by peeing my pants; not when she’d just told me she’d broken her husband’s penis.
“Hey, it’s not funny.” Her look of horror and concern eventually turned into a wide grin. Unable to keep it in any more, she laughed along right with me. “Oh, my God, it’s not funny.” She continued to laugh. “I really did break him.” She snorted, with tears streaming down her face.
Taking in a shaky breath, I forced myself to calm, or as best as I could. I wiped my eyes and said, “Okay, I need answers.”
Jo took a shuddering, laughing breath, and resumed some semblance of self-control. “Damn, El, it was awful, shit, funny as fuck really, but not—you know?” She picked her drink back up and continued. “It was great. The hotel was amazing. Everything was bloody awesome, better than we both hoped, and the sex? Geez, you’d think we’d been saving ourselves all these years with how we were going at it. By the fifth day I was sore, like, seriously sore. I almost couldn’t stand thinking about his penis.”
I pursed my lips together, wondering and dreading where her story was going. Biting back the laughter that was threatening to escape, I looked away and took a calming breath before looking at her and indicating her to go on.
“So, on Thursday afternoon we went for a lazy swim, and things got steamy pretty quickly, but I reined myself in. I also told him that I was sore, so he suggested we use some lube—”
It was too much. A laugh erupted out of me. Holy crap, it hurt, but there was no way of holding it back.
Giving me a filthy look, she chose to ignore my outburst and continue. “I said it might work, take away some of the soreness, but of course, we didn’t have any with us. So Liam went on a mission to find a pharmacy, or a market, or something where he could buy himself some. I waited at the hotel while he was gone. About forty-five minutes later, at which point I was a bit pissed as he was interrupting my read, he came back looking all kinds of flustered. Obviously, he’d struggled with the language barrier a bit, but he’d managed to get a bottle of lube.”
I clenched my teeth together, refusing to interrupt.
“Well, I reluctantly put my book to the side, and being the good wife I am, grabbed the bottle and poured a generous supply directly onto his penis.” I laughed as her face took on a picture of horror. “I may have gone a little overboard with how much I squirted, but I was trying to be sexy. It was only after I was massaging it in, all over his balls, his helmet, I mean every millimetre of it, that I felt the heat on my hands.”
My hand covered my mouth. “Holy shit, it wasn’t ...?”
Jo bit her bottom lip and nodded. “El, I swear to God, when he started screaming, and then when I looked down and saw his junk and all of his groin a raging red, I almost died. That, and my hands were burning. I mean, seriously burning. They hurt like hell.”
“Holy crap! What did you do?”
“At this point, he was screaming bloody murder and crying. I headed to the bathroom and washed my hands over and over; I even got my exfoliator on them. They were still burning. Liam jumped into the shower and attempted washing it off, but shit, the oil really does the trick of absorbing into the skin almost immediately.”
It did. I’d used a similar sort of oil when I’d pulled a muscle a while back. It burnt like kindling for sure.
“I slapped some cream on his junk then, but this simply seemed to stoke the fire and he rushed to wash it off. It was so freaking red, El. I swear, I thought it was going to self-combust or something. I kept looking at it. I couldn’t help it. I imagined it pulsating in the heat until it blew up, and I’d end up with bits of dick and balls all over me.”
I snorted as I howled in laughter. “You could have really been a dickhead. Holy shit, too funny!”
“We tried everything. Eventually, I had to call the hotel doctor to come and take a look. He arrived just as I was pouring the small carton of milk I had on his groin. I think the doctor thought we were some kind of pervs.”
“Do you think?” I grinned. The craziness of the last forty-eight hours fell away from my shoulders during her story. Jo was amazing at making me feel better about myself. If she could handle a husband with a glowing penis for the rest of her life, I was sure I could handle anything.
“Thank God the doctor spoke amazing English. He looked at the bottle, laughed, and shook his head. The pharmacy had recommended the bottle for soreness, just not the kind we needed.” She shook her head. “Apparently, the milk was actually a good idea. He also gave us some ointment that didn’t reignite the fire, but Liam’s still crazy sore and walking funny. I don’t think he’s going to want to have sex again.”
I put my now empty cup down and patted her arm gently. Despite the laughter, she was genuinely concerned. I could tell by the slight wideness to her eyes. “Hey, I’m sure he’ll be fine once he’s nicely healed. Just baby him a bit and he’ll be good as new before long.”
With a tilt of her head, Jo returned my smile. “I know. It just freaked me the shit out. Even though I know it’s funny as hell, he was in so much pain. I just—I don’t know, I hurt, you know?”
“I know, hon.” I attempted to lighten the mood and change the subject. “So, when are you heading back to work?”
“I have another week, thank God. We both booked two weeks off. So I can spend some time catching up with you this week, especially now Liam’s out of action.” She smirked and laughed. “He’s such an idiot. I swear. Who gets his wife to put hot oil on his dick?” She laughed some more while I tried my hardest not to. I didn’t think my ribs could handle it. Standing up, Jo stretched, a movement that I was damn jealous about. “Okay, I’m going to grab a shower before Boy Wonder gets here, and then I’ll head home.” She paused at the door. “You need anything first?”
“No, thanks. I’ll just sit out here for a while and wait for Preston.” It felt unbelievably natural, and gave me a whole heap of the fuzzies talking about Preston to Jo, especially as she wasn’t freaking about it. It also made me smile in the way that implied we’re a couple. It was a feeling I was planning on getting used to.
As Jo headed inside, I had a quiet giggle to myself. I wasn’t too surprised that Liam had managed to buy hot oil for his penis. Between the two of them, they were always getting themselves into scrapes, with a little bit of mischief and mayhem thrown in. It always surprised me when I considered both of their professions. They’d met at university while studying for their degrees in architecture. Liam was in his final year when Jo had started, and she’d managed to sweep him off his feet. Literally. For a hard-ass, feisty woman, Jo had always been, and still was, the queen of mishap. Regardless of plans and precaution, the little bit of klutz in her always worked its magic. Somehow, despite this inner-self she tried desperately to remain
hidden; she’d always managed to get the business side of life sorted. To be honest, I had no idea how they managed being a couple without seriously hurting themselves or each other.
Two years earlier, they’d made the leap and opened up their own company. They also had a silent partner, Liam’s brother, Simon, but he was the money behind the amazing talent of the new Mr and Mrs.
A car pulling up outside my house brought me out of my thoughts. It was a black Jeep with blacked-out windows, one I didn’t recognise.
I wasn’t sure of the time, but the sun was now up. I knew it was still early, too early for Preston to have finished his shift. The car idled a moment before the engine was switched off. The driver’s door opened out into the road, so I still couldn’t tell who it was. It wasn’t until he stood up tall and the sun struck him that I realised it was Ben. He still looked as smoking hot as he had the first time I’d seen him, but this time there was an aura of ugly around him. The lies he’d told me, on top of the whole almost-killing me incident—which I still thought Preston was being OTT about—was enough for my heartbeat to quicken and my breath to hitch. I wasn’t convinced Ben was someone I could trust.
For a moment, I considered calling for Jo, but then I remembered she was in the shower so she wouldn’t hear me, plus I was sure I was being overly dramatic. As he stepped fully around his car and was directly in front of my home, he gave me a tentative smile. He was anxious, and I was pretty sure feeling damn guilty from the awkward glances he was directing my way.
“Hey, Ella.” His deep voice was barely above a whisper.
I smiled at his quiet greeting. “Hi, Ben. It’s a little early for a visit.”
He paused and looked around for a moment before remaking eye contact with me. “Erm, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think. I just needed to see you. To see how you were, and to say sorry. Shit, Ella, I’m so sorry.” He walked closer to me as he spoke, his foot landing on the bottom step of my veranda as he finished. “Do you mind?” He indicated with a nudge of his head, seeking permission to enter.
“Sure.” I shrugged and regretted it after the sharp pain I felt from the movement. Ben reacted to my grimace and gasp of air and stood by my side, concern etched on his handsome face.
“Damn, I really am so sorry. I didn’t even see you. I was just—and the next minute you were there. I don’t even understand what happened.” He sat to the side of me and looked me over. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I’m okay. Honestly, it’s okay. It was an accident. I have a couple of broken ribs and took a hell of a knock to my head, but I’ll live.” As I spoke, he closed his eyes. A look I couldn’t quite decipher passed over his face.
When he opened his eyes again, he looked at me in earnest. “I truly am sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He reached out and lightly touched my hand. I recoiled immediately; it didn’t feel like the same Ben who I had met just a few days before. He seemed genuine enough, but still, the lies didn’t make sense. His eyes tightened when I moved my hands away from him. I immediately smiled to soften the blow.
“You don’t have to do anything.” I paused briefly. “I suppose you could just promise you won’t crash into me again, and we’re good,” I said half-heartedly, not liking the intensity forming in his eyes. It amazed me how quickly a person could shift, could turn and practically transform in front of your eyes. As a teacher, I had seen it many times—usually involving sixteen-year-old boys—when a simple request became a challenge. A certain hardness would appear, and it would reach that moment when you knew the crap was going to hit the fan and you had to calm the booty out of it; if not, there was going to be a big, old ruckus.
Ben did exactly the same in front of me at that moment. I watched the sudden change, the switch of focus and emotions, almost as if watching a play-by-play. It was textbook for the kid’s got a whole heap of issues going on and I’m in his warpath. “So,” I began, knowing that neutralising the flare up of angst was my priority, right next to getting him the hell out of here before Preston returned, “I was just making a coffee. Want one?” A coffee was friendly and normal. I could also give him the “chat” time I assumed he needed, and then give him a nudge to leave.
Something close to a smirk appeared on his face before he stood up and broke out into a proper smirk. “Sure, let me treat you to one.”
“It’s okay. I can just switch on the kettle and grind some beans.”
Placing his hands in his back pockets, he rocked on his feet. My eyes were drawn to his taut biceps. Admittedly, they were delicious, but the desire to lick them was no longer there. “We can do that if that’s what you prefer, or we could also pop over to Julian’s and grab a skinny, hazelnut, double-strength cappuccino.” I knew my eyebrows were planted firmly next to my hairline. “Hey, I listen. Preston talks about you all the time; remember?”
I had no doubt after the last week’s events that Preston did in fact talk about me a lot, and had done so over the past ten years. I knew Preston would be pissed at the idea of Ben and me together, but I also wanted to find out why he’d lied at the photo shoot, and hopefully solve the mess. Ben and Preston had to work together, so solving the ridiculous boy-dramas between them I knew would be a good thing. If I could solve it by taking a quick coffee before Preston came home—and according to my watch, I had an hour—then I would be able to give myself a firm pat on my back.
Taking a deep breath, I replied, “Okay, we can do that. But I really need to be back before Preston goes home.” He beamed down at me. “Plus who can refuse a yummy coffee from Julian’s? Let me just grab my purse.”
“No need, my treat.”
I stood up carefully, pushing myself off the arm of the bench seat. I was barely decent in my short-shorts and my Rolling Stones tee, but I’d do. I was just relieved I’d pulled on a bra before I came out for coffee with Jo. “Let me just let Jo know where we’re going. She’s taking a shower.”
“Jo? Preston’s sister? Looks like I wasn’t your only early-morning visitor.”
“She stayed last night. She’s rarely up at this time in the morning, but my fidgeting kept her awake.” Poor Jo, she rarely did well at the crack of dawn; she’d managed surprisingly well. I opened my door and called out to Jo, but realised she couldn’t hear me because of the running water. “I’ll just leave her a note.”
Ben’s jaw tighten before he nodded and smiled. I shrugged it off. It looked like he was a bit grumpy without caffeine in his system. I could totally relate.
I scrawled a quick note on the back of an envelope, letting her know I’d be fifteen minutes and would grab her a coffee too. I hesitated about letting her know if I was with Ben or not, but decided to be truthful, else she’d wait until I healed so she could kick my arse.
I pulled the door closed. “Okay, I’m good to go.”
He held my arm firmly, helping me down the steps. “Wonderful. I’m desperate for a decent coffee.” His voice was low and didn’t quite match his words. Reaching his car, he opened the door for me and helped to strap me in. A genuine smile was now on his face, and there was a brightness to his eyes. I couldn’t help but think damn, he really is excited about having a caffeine fix.
Chapter Eighteen
Preston
It was one of the longest shifts of my life. Not only was I still seething about Ben, but I was also worried about Ella. My fingers constantly hovered over my phone, wanting to call or text her, but it was still early and I didn’t want to risk waking her. No doubt a late night with Jo would mean she’d need a lie-in, and I didn’t think she’d appreciate a 6am wake-up call.
It had been a quiet night, for which I was grateful. While I could have done with the distraction, my own distraction would not have been ideal out on a job. When the day-shift clocked in, I headed out to the car park with John. We’d only been able to catch up briefly during our shift, enough for me to confirm what had happened, and while Ben’s name had been mentioned in the meeting I was beyond a doubt sure it was him who had set me up.
“Are you heading straight to the police station when you get back?” John asked as we stopped behind my car.
“She has an appointment at 9am, so we’ll head out pretty soon. I’m hoping Detective Richards will have prepped them, so they pay special attention to what she has to say. I just—damn, I don’t know, John. This whole thing stinks like a pile of shit. Were you able to speak to your sister?” John’s sister worked at the main depot in Brisbane as part of the recruitment team.
“I asked her yesterday before I started the shift to see if she could pull Ben’s file. She was a bit hesitant, for obvious reasons, but she agreed that the whole situation sounded a bit too weird. He was transferred, what, six months ago now? I’ve never shared more than a couple of sentences for the guy in one sitting, and not for lack of trying, either. He says little, but always seems a bit too nice, plus he always seems to just be there, you know?”
I did know. I felt it too. To be honest, over the past six months he’d barely made it on my radar, but John was right. In the middle of conversations, or in the thick of a job, he always seemed to be standing back and looking on. When I thought about it, his eyes always seemed to land on me, too. Something seriously stank, and it smelled a lot like bullshit.
“She’s in the office today so will have a look when she gets the chance. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.” He clapped me on the back. “Now go home and look after that woman of yours.”
It sounded like a fine idea to me. I knew she was still in need of major TLC; that I could most definitely provide. All I wanted to do was inhale her sweet-smelling skin and wrap her in my arms. I had a plan to do just that when I got to hers. I was glad that I’d shifted half the contents of my wardrobe around to her place. It made life a whole lot easier. Amazingly, she hadn’t even kicked up too much of a fuss. The power of the tongue was an amazing thing. I would happily distract her over and over again if need be.