by Cassi Carver
Ben checked them in at reception, and Sara followed as he wheeled her suitcase to their suite. It was a very nice room, elegant and tasteful in subdued tones of gold, teal and blue. Their suite had a kitchen, and the counters were brimming with artfully arranged baskets of goodies, from fruit to desserts. “You hungry?” he asked.
She wasn’t, but it was such a waste to go to bed and let the fruit go untouched. She found the cupboard containing dishes and put a few skewers of melon and pineapple on a plate. “Sure, thanks. I’ll take a couple of these to bed.”
He put her purse down by her luggage. “You want a glass of wine or anything?”
Crap, he was being so nice, it was killing her. They hadn’t been nice to each other for the better part of a decade, and Sara almost didn’t know how to respond. “Water is fine…thanks. And can I get you…some fruit or something?”
He uncapped a bottle of water and handed it to her, then peeled back the plastic covering on the dessert basket. “Nah. No fruit for me. I think I need something with a little more kick.” He sorted through a stack of gourmet cookies and came up with a white chocolate macadamia nut slab as big as his palm.
Sara chuckled. “I don’t know how you can eat like that and still look like you do.”
He raised his brows and leaned back against the wall, surely knowing it made his shirt pull tight over his abs. “Why? How do I look?”
Her gaze ran over his lean, muscled body. He looked like he’d taste better than that damn cookie is how he looked. But they weren’t so friendly yet that she’d admit it. “Healthy, Ben. You look healthy.” He looked like her greatest mistake and her greatest temptation, all wrapped up in one heart-stopping package.
He stared back at her while he took his first bite. A cookie crumb stuck to his lower lip, and it took everything in her not to step closer to him and run her thumb along the lush contour of his mouth, or maybe kiss it off. Oh, God. This was bad. She needed out of here, like now. “Okay, then. I’m off to bed.”
She clutched the fruit plate and water to her and turned to survey the rooms. Both bedrooms were along the same wall, side by side, and they looked to be about equal size, so she chose the left room at random.
“Here. Let me get your bags,” he said, coming up behind her. She set the food and drink on her nightstand and turned to him. He slid her purse from his shoulder and held it out to her. “You wouldn’t want to forget these.”
When she took her purse from him and caught the innuendo regarding the toys within, her whole face heated. “Umm…thanks.”
Of course, he was right, though. Since her time with Ben, it had been difficult for Sara to let go with a man enough to really enjoy herself. And orgasm by sex alone—forget it. She usually had to finish up on her own, which was something that her last couple of boyfriends could never learn to accept. Those relationships were no great loss, though, since she was hard-pressed to think of a lover who could satisfy her better than she could satisfy herself. “I earned these toys, you know, coming on a road trip with you.”
He laughed and set her suitcase near the closet. “That you did. But tell me, you weren’t seriously considering…you know…doing anything with those women at the Bunny Ranch, were you?”
Sara chuckled. “I’ve learned a few things in my twenty-seven years, Ben. And one of them is that you should never talk sex with a handsome man in your room at the end of a long day.” Not unless you wanted it to lead somewhere. And no matter how her rational mind balked, her body surely did.
“So she thinks I’m handsome. She admits it.”
The lights were dim, and Ben looked more enticing than any man she’d ever seen. He worked hard on his body, not just exercising but loving outdoor sports, too, and it showed in the cords of muscle along his forearms and neck. “Yeah, she admits it. But so what? Lack of attraction was never the problem between us.”
No, desire had always flared bright and hot between her and Ben. He was gorgeous, and he’d always had the grace to act as though he didn’t know it. Sara briefly wondered if he had the same stamina and toe-curling skills in bed that he’d had at twenty-one. But then, nothing good would come of her mind venturing down that path. Or at least nothing good for her heart.
He took a step closer, and she almost bolted when his hand brushed her nape. “Goodnight, Sara.” He leaned in and gently kissed her cheek. “Today wasn’t the worst day of my life.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a sharp contradiction to the soft, slow movement of his hands on her neck. She swallowed. “Well, we haven’t killed each other yet, so I’m calling it a victory.”
Heaven help her, she couldn’t keep from sliding her cheek over the contour of his jaw and placing a chaste kiss on his chin. Was this really happening? Was she really inhaling his familiar scent and touching her skin to his? “Goodnight, Ben.”
She felt his breath on her temple, and his hands slid down her shoulders and along her arms to clasp her fingers and squeeze. “Sleep tight, Crash.”
She sucked in a breath and almost swatted his ass, but he turned just in time and slipped out the door, chuckling all the way. Crash, indeed. Judging by the fluttering of her stomach and the dampness in her panties, whatever she was feeling for Ben in this moment was a train wreck waiting to happen. “Yeah, you’d better run—Benji!” she called after him.
Eight and a half years ago, the Benji moniker had gotten her thrown down on the carpet and tickled until she almost wet her pants, but at the last minute, he’d yielded to her pleas for mercy, and it had ended in a romp she would never forget. She and Ben had never been good at denying the attraction between them, but they were older and wiser now—not two horny, stupid kids. She would simply choose not to be attracted to him. Maybe he hadn’t been driving drunk or dating the woman in the photo, but he had gone to Europe when she needed him most, and that was unforgiveable.
She fanned the flames of her anger, trying to remember his betrayal and keep it as a shield over her heart—or at least as a chastity belt over her lady bits—but her damned heart was still fluttering and her panties growing damper by the time Ben finally switched off the light in the suite’s living room and closed his door for the night. If she didn’t relieve this pressure on her body, she might be tempted to do something worse—like ask Ben to relieve it for her.
Sara freshened up in her private restroom and changed into her gray silk pajamas, then as soon as Ben’s door closed, she went to her purse, pulled out the toys and laid them on her dresser. She picked her best candidate and washed it in the sink, then turned her bedside lamp on low, and draped it with a red shirt.
Sara slipped under the covers, then slid the silk pajamas and panties from her legs. Her face burned because she couldn’t believe she was going to do this with Ben right next door. But then again, it was all those heated thoughts of Ben in the next room that made it impossible to say no to her body’s demands.
Chapter Five
Thinking of Ben’s solid chest, the scent of his warm skin when he’d kissed her cheek…holy shit, it left her wanting, and bad. That, combined with this type of rabbit-eared vibrator she’d never tried before was just too much temptation. Sure, she loved her special vibrator back at home. He was practically part of the family. But this guy…he had rotating beads and he thrust! How had she not known this existed?
Of course she hadn’t brought any lube with her, but then Ben’s kiss had taken care of that little problem. When she first tested the shaft between her legs it was cool against her slick skin. She just hoped it was quiet, too. Would Ben be able to hear her from the next room? Both of their doors were closed, after all. And did she care if he could? They’d shared the real thing once upon a time.
Sara rested her head against her pillow and shut her eyes. The silicone skin of the vibrator was growing warmer against her swollen lips, and her mind quickly slipped to Ben in the next room. She imagined him shirtless, stretched out on his bed, his tight abs contracting when he shifted.
S
he wondered if he ever thought of her like she was thinking of him. The guilt and confusion threatened to rear its ugly head, the questions surrounding the revelation that he hadn’t been driving that night and that the woman who’d clung to him had been Ian’s girlfriend… But Sara shut it all out. Just for one moment she wanted to allow herself to indulge in the memories that had been forbidden to her all these years.
She teased the entrance to her pussy with the head of the vibrator and slowly pushed it deeper. She sighed at the sensation of being filled, imagining it was Ben sinking into her body. Her fingers fumbled for the power buttons at the bottom of the shaft, and she switched it on. Nothing happened but a little light flickering on. Well, that was disappointing. She tried the next button and— Oh shit!
The thing rocketed to life. Deep inside her the vibrator cranked on, the beads twirling and the cock pistoning up and down, with all the quiet intimacy of a jackhammer on a busy New York street. She yelped a bit, she was sure, and would have switched the thing off instantly if not for those devious bunny ears vibrating against her clit.
With a whimper, she moved her hand, stroking the device deeper and then retracting it again. Visions of Ben danced in her head as she went almost delirious with ecstasy. Little Ben, she would call it. And she could still feel Big Ben’s kiss against her cheek, smell the expensive, yet subtle aftershave he used. Oh, God, mere seconds had passed and she was going to come…
Just let it be quiet, she prayed, though she was sure she’d yielded control over her mouth and her body the second she stepped foot into this hotel room with Ben.
Ben had been tossing in his bed, unable to do much more than ache for Sara, when a strange sound startled him. After a few seconds, he realized it was probably Sara’s electric toothbrush. But then came the toe-curling moan through the wall, and he knew exactly what that sound was.
He sat up in bed, almost indignant that his ex-lover would use a toy so…so callously when he was in the very next room. Was she trying to hurt him? Hell, was she trying to kill him? Because he was sure at the instant filling of his cock that no blood remained above his shoulders, and that must be dangerous, right?
And what the hell kind of toy was that, anyway? From the sound of it, it was either a dentist’s drill or she was being bred by some sci-fi kinky-ass aliens. Like an alien orgy. Maybe he should check on her to make sure she was okay…
He caught himself before he made it to the door and lay back down on the bed, his cock so full it felt as if it might rupture. He ran a hand down his length and hissed in a breath. He heard the slight sound of her bed moving and didn’t appreciate the visions of her hips moving along with it. Yeah, she was punishing him all right. Problem was, he knew what for, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve it.
The rhythmic pulsation of her toy buzzed in his ears like a swarm of cicadas. He sat up, braced his feet on the floor and buried his face in his hands. Sara was all he’d ever wanted. She was his first love and his last. Giving her that much power over his heart had been the worst mistake of his life, followed closely by agreeing to make this trip to Montana with her. He might have to sit beside her in that car and make small talk, trying to crush all thoughts of her engagements to other men, but this, this having to listen to her fantasize about only God knew who, was fucking ridiculous.
When her breaths started coming faster and faster, he rose to his feet and began to pace, his rock-hard cock bobbing with every step. Maybe he should give her something better to fantasize about than some starched-shirt college professor. Maybe he could make her remember why she’d loved him once.
He froze when her first panted cry echoed through the walls. He knew Sara—would never forget the sounds of her pleasure—so he knew she would only get louder. But suddenly, she shrieked. “What? No!” And then something smacked into the wall between their rooms.
He was at her door before he’d even had a chance to consider his next move, but his fist rocked to a stop just an inch from the door. He was so hot for her, but so pissed at the same time, that he was starting to sweat. He blew a breath out between pursed lips and forced his knuckles to rap lightly when what he wanted to do was slam his palm against the door in frustration. “Sara? You okay in there? Did you…throw something?”
Next was her groan, and he was quickly relearning the difference between her groans and her moans. Big difference. “Sorry,” she answered. “I…uh…yeah.”
“Need help with anything?” He cleared his throat. Why was he even being nice to her when she thought the worst of him? And he didn’t think his warm fuzzies were just because she might be naked in there. Though his cock totally approved of that image. “Can I get you something?”
“Ben.”
“Yeah?”
“Come in and stop talking through the door.”
He hesitated for a moment, then twisted the handle and pushed the door open. Sara had the light on low and she’d draped a red shirt over the lampshade, casting the room in a sensual rose glow. She had the covers pulled up to her collarbone and two pillows wedged behind her head.
He slowly approached, not sure what to expect but hoping like hell she didn’t see the massive hard-on he had for her. “Didn’t want to bother you. I just thought I heard a cry of distress.”
She cocked a brow in response. “A cry of distress?”
He grimaced. “Yeah. You know the one that came after those other cries.”
Sara blew out a breath, sending a strand of rich brown hair flying before it settled once again over her eye. “You…uh…heard that, did you?”
With a pained smile, he cast his gaze down to his groin and the eight inches of proof he was packing. “Sure did. Maybe the walls are thinner in a four-star hotel.”
She covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God.”
A sudden vibration made the dresser tremble and he tracked the sound to the floor beside the chest of drawers. A huge dildo lay discarded on the floor, still glistening from Sara’s juices. It burst to life, actually expanding and contracting like an inchworm before convulsing and sputtering to a stop once again.
Ben reached down and picked it up by the base. The gears cranked, the beads swirling and grinding, and he almost dropped the thing. Squinting in the dim light, he found the off switch and pressed it, then extended the toy to Sara. “So I’m assuming you had a technical difficulty with your newest gadget?”
Sara sat up and the sheet slipped lower on her breasts. She caught it just before Ben got to be reintroduced to his favorite breasts on the planet. Damn it. It was the least she could do, leaving him in knots like this.
With no apparent concern for his condition, Sara ripped the vibrator from his grip and slammed it against the bed. “Cheap-ass thing. It stopped right before I did. I’d call the dude ranch and tell them you want your money back. Sue their asses.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. Sara looked truly annoyed that she been robbed of an orgasm, as though her frustration could be any worse than his tonight. “Sorry you had to endure that, sweetheart. I’ll call my lawyers first thing in the morning. Those bunnies will rue the day they sent you home with sub-par gear.”
Her scowl slowly tilted into a smile. “Well…being fair, I haven’t tried the others yet.”
He swallowed and glanced at the dresser where she had them laid out. “Want me to grab you one?”
“Well, aren’t you helpful?”
“Yeah, I’d say I make a pretty good travel buddy.”
“Sure,” she answered. “You pick.”
He approached the toys but wasn’t sure he liked the idea of a mammoth dildo in his Sara. It just wasn’t fair to Big P or what his member was having to go through on this bizarre road trip. He picked up a blue, gel-coated bullet instead and held it up. “Does the lady approve?”
Sara bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Will you wash it for me?”
Ben cleared his throat and nodded gruffly. “Sure.”
His hands were shaking as he soaped and rinsed Sara’s
toy. She watched him as he walked back to the bed, and he had trouble interpreting her look. If she hated him—and he was pretty sure she did—she was hiding it pretty well behind a mask of something like desire. Shit, maybe it’d been so long for her that she was desperate enough even to consider him an eligible toy. His cock twitched with wild joy. Seriously, Big P—shut the fuck up. You have no idea what trouble this woman is.
But mere “trouble” was an understatement. Trouble was a hungry lingerie model or having to get maintenance on his personal jet and not being willing to risk another’s. Trouble was fielding questions from paparazzi or having your employee’s wife come on to you. Sara was in a different category, like a hurricane or a tornado. She’d torn through his defenses and then flattened his life until nothing was left but a wide swath of debris.
Ben laid the vibrating bullet next to Sara’s sheet-encased thigh. “There you go. Have a great night.” He began to turn to go.
“Hey,” she whispered. He met her eyes and time seemed to stand still. He swore even his heart missed a few beats before pounding to life. “What you told me today…”
He just nodded. He knew she was talking about the accident and the information he’d shared with her earlier. “Yeah?”
She clutched the sheet tighter to her chest, her pretty little hands balled in anguish. “I’ve blamed you for a lot of things…but I was wrong about that one. And I’m sorry, Ben. I’m so sorry.”
The soft, vulnerable look in her eyes stopped him as surely as her words. He couldn’t turn for the door as he knew he should. Instead he sat beside her, the bed dipping under his weight, and reached for her hand, but then he stopped with his fingers just above hers, unsure if he should touch her. Unsure of how he would go on if he touched her again and then had to let her go. It had destroyed him once. This beautiful, clever, prideful woman had destroyed him.