“Glass of wine?” Ben padded his bare feet into the kitchen.
“You drink wine?”
He took a bottle from a small rack on the counter, leaving three more behind, and cut off the metal top. “Not really.”
She plopped down onto the red couch with straight edges. “Just like to have a few bottles around to help loosen up…company?”
A loud pop echoed through the room when he pulled the cork out. “Actually, I just picked it up today.”
“You did?”
He poured her a glass, the gurgling sound music to her ears. “I did.”
“Oh.”
“It’s your favorite.” He came over and handed her the wine glass and sat down next to her on the couch with a cold beer of his own.
“Thank you.” Brooke took an overachieving sip while ignoring his lack of belly fat. “How’d you know cab was my favorite?”
“You said so at dinner.”
“I did?”
He nodded with a warm smile.
“Oh.” The weight of his eyes made her drop his gaze. She swirled the wine in her glass, refusing to let her eyes go anywhere near that chest again. And no matter how much she thought she had caught a glimpse of the monster in his pants, she declined to investigate further.
“I still don’t get why you told your parents about Halloween.”
She ran a finger around the rim of the glass, producing a hollow tone reminiscent of what she was feeling inside. “Because I can’t lie to them; I hate it. And I had to tell them something, I didn’t have anywhere to go.”
“But why get so detailed about the tattooed guy?” he asked, pressing the point.
She took a quick sip and swallowed. “Because someone needed to take the blame who wasn’t me. I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”
“Do you wish you hadn’t?”
“Oh, sweetie, you’re going to have to get much more specific than that. There are about a million different things I wish I hadn’t right now.”
“Hadn’t of seen me again.”
Brooke held his steady gaze, fearful her eyes would betray her. “Yes.”
His gaze tightened. “Your eyes say different.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
“Why don’t you take your shoes off and get comfortable.”
She grimaced inwardly when she realized she still had her work clothes on. “Can I use your shower?” she asked, freeing the ponytail that felt like it was pulling her hair out.
He watched her shake her hair loose. “Sure, I’ll bring you a towel.”
“I can get it,” she said, getting up.
“In the closet just outside the door.”
She grabbed a towel and shut the bathroom door, turned on the shower and admired his clean tub and sink. Things definitely could have been worse. Once, she dated a guy who – for reasons unknown – left half full glasses of milk lying around his apartment for days on end. She could only imagine having to deal with a disgusting shithole on top of everything else right now, and was thankful she didn’t have to. She kicked out of her shoes and jeans. Even the toilet sparkled. Her panties, shirt and bra hit the floor next. Brooke stood there naked, staring in the mirror as it began to fog over. She looked away before the older version of Brooke could make another appearance.
The glass door clicked open. Steam rolled into the room as she stepped into the shower, where travertine tile ran from the floor to the ceiling. A wide shower head rained down hot water that felt like it could wash away her sins. Brooke rubbed her face with both hands, the water turning her hair black. Ben’s sweats flickered through her mind. She toiled feverishly on the bar of soap, hoping for enough lather to scrub away the past. Her memory meandered across his chest and down his stomach, where it toyed with his waistband like a high school tease. She started with her face and worked the soap down her body, rubbing it into her shiny skin while imagining herself pulling back his elastic waistband for a quick peek inside. Before she knew it, her hand found the warm spot down below. She closed her eyes and shut out the rest of the world, her mouth pulling in a mixture of water and air. She leaned her forehead against the sand-colored tiles and massaged the swollen lips between her legs. Water dripped from her chin in streams as images of Ben poured through her mind’s eyes. There was only one way to stop them and that was by taking care of the problem herself before she could make any more of a mess than she already had.
Brooke tilted her head back and let the water rush over her face, massaging herself into a warm frenzy, inhaling deep breath of air. She could still remember that big hard cock of his grinding against her down there, loosening her up for its punishing size. Two fingers slipped inside. She grabbed a breast and squeezed, stifling a groan that nearly broke free. Her fingers worked faster, rubbing circles into her flesh, her legs beginning to shake.
A knock at the door startled her. Before she could reply the door cracked open.
“I bet you could use some more soap.”
She turned her back to the fuzzy outline coming through the fog and tried to slow her breathing. “No, I’m fine.”
“Well, here’s another bar just in case.”
“There’s already a bar…”
The door clicked open and his hand slipped inside the swirling mist.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the soap while covering herself with her arms.
His hand stayed behind, like it was watching her.
“Okay, you can go now,” she said, using her back as a shield. When he didn’t respond, she looked over her shoulder to see him peeking through the crack in the door.
She splashed water onto his face. “Shut the door, you pervert!”
“You need me to get your back?” he asked, scanning every inch of her glistening body.
“No! Close the door!”
Ben did the exact opposite and opened it wider. “What’s that? Couldn’t hear you over the water.”
Her eyes snagged on the pitched tent in his sweats. The need in her gut whined for attention. “Why do you have a boner?”
He looked down. “I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I do not.”
“Then what’s this?” She seized the tent pole in his pants, instantly soaking his sweats.
“What’s what?”
She yanked down his elastic waistband. His erection popped free and bounced in the steam like a Chinatown dragon float. It pointed at her and her heart fluttered in her chest. “This!” she said, unable to stop herself from throttling it with both hands.
“Whoa!” He laughed. “Where’d that come from?”
She stroked him as he slipped out of his sweats and stepped into the shower with her. They faced each other, the shower head basking them in a warmness that couldn’t match the heat in their eyes.
He kissed her, sending his tongue into her mouth to explore. She kissed him back before pulling away and looking down. His cock made her hands look so small it stole her breath. She grabbed the soap and lathered him up, letting her fingers run across his slippery body while he did the same. They were like teenagers whose parents were on vacation, the house all to themselves. She soaked Ben in like it was the first time all over again. They washed each other with their eyes doing the talking and his boner poking her in the stomach.
With a quick move, he spun her around and bent her over. Brooke rested a foot on a built-in bench to give him better access as the water beat against her back. She cried out when he slipped inside of her without warming, closing her eyes and letting water rush into her mouth.
Ben grabbed her by the hips and eased all of the way in.
“Oh yeah,” she moaned, hanging her head and staring at the water circling down the drain between their feet.
It didn’t take long for the sound of skin slapping against skin to fill the shower, fueling Brooke’s passionate cries. He reached around and found her clitoris as he thrust in and out, her boobs crashing together like Newton’s Cradle.
&n
bsp; Ben took greedy pumps, water dripping from his nose onto her back. Brooke gasped for air, already on the verge of crumbling like a virgin schoolgirl. He pinched her nipple with one hand and massaged her clit with the other, feeding her fire while sparing no expense with his cock. He gave her every inch, over and over again.
She pressed against the wall to keep her head from crashing into it. “Ben,” she panted, glancing back at him. “Oh, Ben!”
He straightened up and planted his hands on her hips again, sinking his fingers deep into her flesh, a look of rage distorting his face.
She bit her lip, everything a shaky blur now. It had never been like this before and she needed just a little more to get her through the rough night ahead. Her hair hanged nearly to the floor. She bit down harder on her lip.
“You feel so good, Brooke,” he said, pumping faster. “I can’t hold out much…”
Brooke curled her toes and cried out as an earth shattering orgasm rippled through her. Her muscles constricted around his pulverizing hard-on. Blood dripped from her lip to the floor where water washed the crimson drops down the drain in a counterclockwise swirl.
Ben yelled out her name and exploded inside of her, morphing his breakneck speed into a series of jerky thrusts. He slowed his roll, emptying himself into her with pulsating bursts that seemed to fill the shower with blasts of bright light. He bent over and rested against her back, kissing her on the neck. Brooke struggled for breath and pressed against him, not ready for him to withdraw just yet.
She wiped water from her face and glanced over her shoulder. “I said I didn’t need any soap.”
“Sorry,” he grinned. “I couldn’t hear you over the water.”
After a few more seconds, she used her butt to push him away and turned to face him. She stared up into his big browns. “Why do you do this to me?”
“Do what?”
She looked down to his wilting boner and grabbed it. “This.”
He lifted her chin with two fingers and directed her eyes and lips back to his. They kissed, the water rushing over them, hearts beating as one. He pulled back and stared into her green eyes, swimming in them for a little while longer, caressing her cheek with his thumb.
“I love you.”
Her heart jumped into her throat. She blinked the water from her eyes and exited the shower.
The water stopped and the silence between them became as thick as the steam fogging the mirror. Ben watched her hurriedly towel off for a moment and then stepped out of the shower. Brooke refused to notice the way water dripped from his slick body in dew-like drops. Just like she had imagined it would. She refused to care whether his cock was still huge or not because this had just crossed a line and taking it any further would be unfair to both of them. Ultimately, with Ben in the picture, there would be no room for her family and friends and that wasn’t an option. There was still a chance, however small, to make things right. But not with him in her life.
Brooke threw her clothes on, dried Mornay sauce and all.
“Listen, I…”
She shook her head, dripping water onto the floor. “Don’t.”
“Do you want some shorts and a shirt?”
She stole a glance at him she didn’t want but kept just the same. “I should go.”
He spread his palms, his manhood dangling between his legs like a stallion. “Go where?”
“I’m sorry.” She pulled her jeans up with a quick hop. “This was a mistake.”
Ben couldn’t help but laugh. “If that was a mistake I’d love to see what you get right.”
Her bra snapped into place.
“Come on,” he said, resting his hands on his hips, his glistening tattoos brighter than ever before. “You don’t have to leave.”
“Yes I do,” she said, pulling her work shirt back on.
He pulled her against his naked body, wetting her clothes and searching her upturned face. “No, you don’t.”
She stared up at him, wishing things were different and knowing they weren’t. “I’m sorry but I’m not picking you over my family.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
Brooke lowered her voice. “Let – me - go.”
He released her and watched her storm out of the bathroom, hair dripping water onto the floor.
Brooke straightened her shirt while she walked, slipped into her shoes and snatched her purse.
“Can’t you have both?”
She stopped with her hand on the front doorknob, afraid to face him. Afraid the sight of his beautiful face and those puppy dog eyes would change her mind and she couldn’t take that chance. There were a million guys out there but only one her parents would never accept. Never forgive.
“Hello?” he said, stirring her from her thoughts.
She leaned her head against the door and exhaled a tired breath. Water dripped from her hair onto her shoes. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” he said, sounding closer. “You’re scared and I understand that but we can figure this out.”
She finally bit the bullet and turned around, putting her back to the door and thankful to see he had wrapped himself in a blue towel. Despite that, she could feel her resolve begin to weaken. “They will never understand.”
“You don’t know that!” he barked, making her flinch.
“You don’t know them!”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t,” he whispered.
“I wish things were different. I really do.”
He stepped closer.
Her hand found the knob behind her back.
“You’ll only be hurting yourself.”
She shook her head, the tenderness in his voice bringing a tear down her cheek. “I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No.”
He took her hand and she opened the door. He leaned against it and slammed it shut, lips hovering just above hers. “Stay.”
She stared into his haunting gaze, unable to look away. “No.”
His fingers lightly stroked her cheek.
She closed her eyes, caught in his web of persuasion, her will melting away with each tender stroke. “No.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes cracked open and he sharpened his defiant gaze, his warm scent making her legs heavy. “Fine.”
He blinked blankly, his heart beating loud enough for both of them to hear. “Seriously?”
“Happy now, Ron Jeremy?” She slipped past him and set her purse down, too tired to argue about it a second longer, let alone drive.
“You’ll seriously stay?”
“Where’m I supposed to go this late anyway?”
An easy smile slipped across his unshaven cheeks. “I knew you wouldn’t leave.”
Her eyes bulged from their sockets. “You did not!”
“Oh, I knew.”
“You were about to cry when I grabbed that doorknob!”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“I heard your voice crack,” she said. “That whole - you’ll only be hurting yourself – thing. You almost started crying.”
“I think you love me.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “You’re the one who’s always stalking me everywhere I go.”
“No, that was fate trying to tell us something.”
“Yeah, to turn and run.”
He stared back at her, expressionless. “Maybe you should leave after all.”
“Too late, buttercup, you’re stuck with me now.”
He swept her up in his arms and swam in her eyes before laying a soft, wet kiss on her lips. Her resolve withered. She wrapped her arms around his muscular neck and pulled him close, cursing herself while interlocking tongues for a period of time that could never be enough.
Ben picked her up and spun her around before gently setting her back down.
She ran her fingers over his scruff. “Better be careful or I just might put some of my stuff in the bathroom.”
“Admit it, fre
ckles, when I’m right, I’m right.”
“That’s the problem, this whole thing is wrong.” She broke free from him and dropped onto the couch, folding one leg beneath her. “But I’m on a roll with making bad decisions lately, so why stop now?” She massaged her temples, exhaustion catching up to her once again. “And quit calling me freckles! I don’t have a single freckle.”
He sat down next to her on the couch, the look in his eyes warming her heart. “You know this isn’t a bad decision.”
“You really do live in a fantasy world, don’t you?”
“Everything is going to be fine with your parents.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “You should’ve seen the looks on their faces. They’re pissed about what I did to Mandy and even more pissed I lied to them about it.” She turned to face him. “But I think my dad is extra pissed because…”
“Because what?”
“Because he really liked you.”
Ben swallowed hard. “We’re going to fix everything - your family and friends - all of it. I promise.”
“And how are we going to do that?”
His face brightened as an idea struck. “We pay em off.”
She cocked her head to one side. “This is serious, Ben.”
“Okay then, we drug them. This time for real.”
Brooke flattened her lips.
“Sorry, I can’t think right now.” His eyes floated out a dark living room window. “I seriously thought you were going to bail.”
“Yeah well, I’m not some star-struck heroine from a sappy romance novel. I know when to cut my losses.” Brooke buried her face in her hands, embarrassment short-circuiting her system. She was on a roll all right and couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. Car problem? Job loss? Gain twenty pounds from one too many consoling cupcakes? Any one of those things could throw a serious wrench into an already fragile situation.
“You want a beer?”
She pulled her face from her hands. “Yes!”
Chapter Nineteen
Kit Kat and Twix wrappers littered the coffee table, strewn between empty beer bottles like fallen snowflakes. Like her mom and older sister, sweets were her go-to during a crisis.
“That’s the plan anyway,” Ben said, pulling her from her thoughts.
Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted Page 16