FUTURE RISK

by MEGAN MATTHEWS

“Thanks?”

  She gently pushes me on the shoulder getting me in the right direction.

  I stop when I reach the porch and attempt a turn around to head back inside when I spot the five black SUVs now taking up residence in Dom’s front yard. Bennett, in a pair of low riding jeans and one of my favorite black shirts with the Pelican Bay Security logo on the front, stands with his arms crossed and his feet wide apart. He takes a step forward, but stops a few feet from the bottom of Dom’s porch.

  He gets another two steps forward before the three other bikers that came inside with Dom charge off the front porch and slam into the group of equally tall men who stationed themselves behind Bennett. There’s pushing and swear words thrown around. Maybe even a punch.

  “Oh my God, stop them.” I tug on Dom’s sleeve, but he does nothing but laugh.

  In what feels like hours but is probably only seconds Dom’s men step back, and the two groups form an uneasy alliance. With the action over I run off the porch. Jumping off the last two steps, I push past the bikers until I reach Bennett.

  He grabs on to my shoulders looking me over. “Did he hurt you?” he asks staring hard at the front porch.

  My heart pounds. His sweet scent overwhelms my senses. He’s peace and home. Safe.

  “No, he gave me a beer.” I look behind me to where I threw the beer in my mad dash to get to Bennett. “They like my tea.”

  “You should take better care of what belongs to you.” Dom addresses his statement to Bennett. “I’m not one to let a girl on the back of my bike, but when she belongs to you I make an exception.”

  This time it’s me scowling at the porch. He makes it seem much more scandalous than it was. I open my mouth explain to Bennett but he shakes his head and pinches his fingers together in a don’t-say-a-word motion. This time I listen.

  “You got this, Bennett?” Ridge steps out from the pack behind him.

  “Yup.” Is all he says before he wraps his arm around my shoulders and with a strong yet delicate hold guides me to his truck.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Bennett turns an unexpected way at the corner leading me to ask, “Where we going?”

  “The bakery.” It’s a short gruff answer.

  “I left Tabitha and Katy at the church. Are they okay?” I ask.

  Bennett huffs. “Ridge has it handled.”

  Katy drove us to the church, but I have a feeling Bennett’s definition of handled it doesn’t mean Katy is giving Tabitha a ride home. Not that I expect him to give me the full details. Speaking of things he hasn’t answered. “How did you know where I was?”

  He turns a corner. “Don’t worry about it.”

  It’s not the answer I wanted, but I guess it will have to do because I’m not ready to ask him for any more details. If Ridge knows Tabitha is at the church, that’s the most important part.

  In the early morning hours Main Street is dark, the streetlights illuminating bare sidewalks. Bennett pulls his truck into a space next to my car in the back parking lot and shuts off the engine.

  “Are you coming in the bakery?” I’d expected him to drop me off out front and watch me walk away again.

  He grunts.

  “Okay then.” I haven’t been up this late since high school and a few small parties here and there. I don’t have the time or patience for any kind of attitude tonight.

  I jump out of his truck and lightly close the door so not to wake up any of the other shop owners who live above their buildings. Bennett isn’t as concerned about my neighbors from the way he slams his door, the sounds echoing in the mostly empty parking lot.

  Whatever.

  With the door unlocked I spend a few seconds punching in the code and toss my unicorn tote bag on the table. I’ll clean it up when I’m back down here to start the doughnut prep in a little under four hours.

  Bennett stares at the alarm. “At least you set the alarm.”

  “Of course I set the alarm.” He reminded me two thousand times after they put it in.

  He grunts. “Well you don’t listen to anything else I say.”

  Bennett closes the door behind him and reactivates the alarm, I don’t have enough concern to figure out what the heck he’s doing here or his comments. He’s gone two days without talking to me. I don’t have any time for that nonsense. At least not right now. My bones are heavy from exhaustion. I’ll get back to being mad at him in the morning.

  “This has gone on long enough,” he says standing in front of the back door with his arms crossed, his lips pressed together and a stern expression.

  I turned from the steps I’d been about to walk up. “Excuse me?”

  His eyes narrow a smidge. “I let you have your space the last two days while I waited for you to figure out you were wrong and ask me for help.”

  That comment wakes me up. “Excuse me?” I ask in a higher pitch.

  “What were you thinking? Whose bright idea was it to have a clandestine meeting with Frankie Zanetti in the middle of a cemetery? You are smarter than that choice.”

  I turn completely around, my stance now matching his. “Excuse me?”

  “And then I have to come and rescue you from a biker compound. Dom is not someone to be messed with. What went on tonight, Anessa?”

  Screw sleep.

  I have a man to correct. “Who do you think you are? You don’t talk to me for two days and I’m supposed to run to your side and be all Bennett please save me. No.”

  “Yes,” he answers as if there was never another option available.

  My mouth hangs open in silence. I mean really, what can I say back to his overzealous man behavior?

  “Why didn’t you call me as soon as Frankie made contact?”

  “I called Frankie,” I say and then immediately wish I could take it back from the way his eyes widen and his stance hardens. “And I was having tea with the bikers.”

  It’s not completely the truth. I was holding a beer which I never opened, but we did talk about tea. And when it comes to fighting, it’s kind of the same thing. Close enough.

  “You had tea with The Impaler?”

  When he says it like that.

  “Well…” If he’s going to ask me outright like that I suppose I can’t lie completely.

  He grins like he knows he’s got me. “That’s what I thought.”

  “You don’t know what you thought. You’re mad because I took care of myself and handled the problem without your help.”

  “Oh you handled it, did you? So the whole situation’s fixed?”

  “Well…” His smile grows and so I rush to spit out, “Frankie and I are square. Ridge owes him an extra twenty-five thousand.” I laugh a few times to lighten the mood, but from the way he drops his grin and his lips pinch back together, I don’t think it works.

  Okay, so fine.

  I admit meeting with Frankie in the middle the night and then choosing to go off with the biker gang probably weren’t my highest moments, but it could have been worse. I can’t think of exactly how right now, but I’m alive so that’s a plus.

  “Anessa…” he says my name and moves closer.

  I stand my ground. Except when he stops, he doesn’t continue to argue but leans closer. His lips come within inches of mine, slowly, until they make contact. Bennett walks me backward until I hit the brick wall. Our tongues duel, our teeth clashing together. It happens so fast I have no time to argue. Not that I would.

  Using all my strength I push away at his shoulders. Gasping to catch my breath. “What the hell is that?”

  “That’s me letting you know you’re mine.” He pants in between each word.

  “Yours?” With the words, a whisper of something I’m not quite familiar with grows. A feeling that tightens my entire body, but in the good way. A way of excitement.

  “What do you want from me, Bennett?”

  He sighs. “To take care of you. I thought it was painfully obvious.”

  In what world is that painfully obvious?

&nbs
p; “I want you in my bed, at my family dinner table, and watching Hercules with us twice a day.”

  I decide to ignore the whole bed comment and focus on the two important ones. “You want me at your dinner table and watching Hercules?”

  “Anessa,” he leans in kissing me again hard and full of emotion. “I want you everywhere.”

  “Everywhere?”

  “Hell. Right here.” He points to the metal table in the middle of the kitchen.

  My eyes widen. “The prep table?” I bake there.

  “You have been pretty bad tonight. I could lean you over the edge and spank you.”

  “Bennett!” It’s so unlike the sweet gentle guy I’ve known the last few weeks.

  He steps away, moving closer to the table. “Anessa, I haven’t talked to you in two days. You met with a known mafia associate in the woods and then were kidnapped by a biker gang.”

  I try to look innocent. “But not a roving biker gang.”

  He doesn’t laugh at my joke. “You deserve a spanking. But if that’s not your thing, I understand.”

  Is it my thing? I lift a single shoulder. “Will it hurt?”

  “Only if you want it to.” He curls one of his fingers silently telling me to come closer.

  I do, but only a step, thinking about my answer. “I don’t think I want it to hurt, too much.”

  When I get halfway to him, Bennett reaches out, grabs my hand, and pulls me the rest of the way. His lips ghost across my earlobe. “Lean over the table.”

  “Right now?” My nervousness grows and I try to hide it behind the smile while heat pools in my core. I thought maybe we’d schedule it for next week. Scared and a little bit nervous, my body yells at me to get next to the table and lean my ass over.

  “There’s no better time than the present.” Bennett places a hand on my shoulder turning my body to the table.

  I take over the rest for him leaning my upper body across the table, my arms outstretched. We’re at the widest point so there’s nothing for me to hold on to but the other side. I stretch my fingers out against the cool metal where my exposed skin touches.

  “I like it when you listen to me.” Bennett leans over my body covering my back. His fingers trail up my sides. Starting at my hips they skim the surface of my skin, the pads of his fingers tickling my skin and bunching my shirt higher.

  He reaches my chest and keeps going, taking my bra with him. My nipples pebble as they hit the cool metal on the table. He unhooks my bra, moving it out of the way, but leaving my shirt bunched around my shoulders. The buttons on his light plaid button-down shirt scratch against my naked back.

  Squeezing his body harder against mine, the edge of the metal tray pushes into my stomach as Bennett leans across me and grabs a long wooden spoon from the carafe of them I keep on the table.

  “My spoon?” I ask, watching him select one.

  He slaps the bottom of the spoon on the table, the banging loud and unexpected causing me to jump. “Don’t ask questions.”

  Holy shit.

  My pussy convulses. This kind of bossy Bennett I could get used to.

  Maybe.

  He lays the spoon on table, within my eyesight but not close. His hands roam around my hips, starting at the bottom of my shorts and pulling up as he palms my ass. They finally stop at the front of my jean shorts. Bennett undoes the button and lowers the zipper, using his large open palms to slide them down my legs. They hit the floor with a soft thud. Bennett pushes his hips forward, his hard thick length obvious against my cheeks through his jeans.

  I want to beg him to hurry up, but I know from previous times we’ve been together it will do me no good. Bennett likes to play. If being on an island open to the public where anyone could see us didn’t make him rush, nothing will. I’m not sure how the mood went from him yelling at me for making stupid decisions this evening to me being bent over my kitchen table, but I like it. I don’t plan to question the change.

  My underwear come down much faster. Bennett gives them two quick tugs before they hit the pile on the floor.

  “Step.” I lift one leg and he kicks my pants to the side. “Spread your legs.”

  I do as he says, moving one leg to the side and rebalancing myself on the table. The room feels so hot, the heat from Bennett’s body making the table warm and increasing my excitement. There’s something about him that draws me closer. There’s no other reason why I’d agree to stand naked in my kitchen.

  Bennett retrieves the wooden spoon and I brace, waiting for him to strike it against my skin. But it doesn’t happen. The warmth and smoothness of the wood of the spoon pushes against the skin at the back of my knee. He uses the tip and slides it against and off the back of my leg. When he reaches the curve of my butt I flinch, again waiting for the strike.

  But it doesn’t come.

  I sag on the table about to lose a battle with not betting if he makes me wait any longer. Bennett pulls back and then there’s a fresh bite of pain on my right butt cheek.

  “Oh my God.” My body tightens against the flick of pain and I swear the sound echoes through the kitchen.

  The spoon clatters against the table, Bennett tosses it to the side. His belt jingles, the metal clacking together as he hurries to quickly unfasten it. The metal hits the tile floor with the small ding followed by a discreet tearing of the condom wrapper.

  Seconds pass as I wait, ready and dripping. With a hand on my back he aligns himself behind me and rubs circles on my clit. I push my lower half away from the table trying to get closer.

  I’m wet and ready for Bennett’s entrance, and he slides in smoothly, my inner walls clenching. My body stretches allowing him access and I dig the pads of my fingers against the cool metal helping to give myself purchase. Bennett starts at a slow rhythm. The in and out thrust in tempo to the large circles he continues to pass against my nub.

  Before long I’m squeezing my eyes shut against the pleasure growing higher and higher up my chest. A moan catches in my throat and my body convulses against the now warm table as my orgasm rips through my body to the point of almost pain.

  Even after it ends my insides can’t relax. Small tremors continue to rake my insides. Bennett picks up his pace, his movements turning jerky until he stills, growling through his own release.

  Leaning over my back he kisses the side of my neck. “Holy shit,” he says into my rumpled hair.

  Holy shit is right.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The angry beeping from my phone fills the tiny little space I use as a bedroom.

  Bennett groans and rolls over, wrapping his arm across my chest. “What is that noise?”

  “It’s time to make the doughnuts,” I say cheerfully trying to imitate the commercials. But after only an hour of sleep, I fail miserably.

  I have to start making more money so I can hire more help. Someone who likes mornings. And baking.

  Bennett rolls to his back, his hand flopping on the side the bed. “What time is it?”

  “5 a.m.”

  “Fuck. I have to get home. I’m going to owe Dolores so much money for staying the night. And I’ll have to call in to Ridge since I have no one to watch Liam today.”

  Bennett sounds as defeated as I am tired. It can’t be an easy job being thrown into full-time dad lifestyle. If possible my heart simultaneously breaks and yet fills with love and respect for the man lying next to me. There’s so much talk about single moms out there but what about the single dads? The one beside me is doing a spectacular job on his own with a little bit of help from the team he’s built up around him.

  “Bring him to the bakery. He can help Tabitha and me make desserts.” I mean really, he can’t be worse than Tabitha when it comes to cooking skills. I won’t let either of them near an oven.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, you know, if you’re sure.” I didn’t give a lot of thought when I made the offer. It’s possible Bennett won’t trust me to take care of Liam. I’ll be the first to admit I
don’t have much child experience. “I mean I’m sure you don’t let him stay with just anyone.”

  He smiles, rolls back over and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I guess that means you aren’t just anyone.”

  “I guess not.” My smile grows.

  “I’ll let you in on a secret. I think my son may be falling in love with you.”

  “Really?” Liam is now my favorite kid on the entire planet. Forget my nieces and nephews. He’s my new favorite. There’s a lifetime supply of cookies in store for him.

  “He talks nonstop about when you’ll be over again. Normally two minutes after you leave.”

  “He does?” If possible my smile gets bigger, taking away some of the pain from my lack of sleep headache.

  Bennett leans in, giving me a closed mouth kiss on the lips. It’s tender and sweet, nothing like the sex we had last night. “Don’t tell Liam, but he’ll have to fight me for you because I’ve already made my decision. You’re mine.”

  Okay, that’s it. I’m done for. Tell me, what woman could resist the man lying in her bed saying those words? No one. Bennett Walker can boss me around all he wants from this moment on.

  He sits up, totally oblivious to the fact I’m staring at him like a love-stricken psycho person.

  “I have to get home before Dolores hunts me down, but I’ll bring him by in a few hours. Does that work?”

  “Uh-huh.” Hey, don’t judge me. A hot guy basically told me he’s falling in love with me. I’m allowed speechlessness. I’ll get it together eventually.

  **

  “When is he dropping him off?” Tabitha asks as she restocks the bakery case after our morning rush ended a few minutes ago. The hour between nine and ten is consistently slower, giving us time to prep to do it all over again at the lunch hour.

  She’s mostly forgiven me for walking into the woods with Frankie Zanetti and out of it with a bunch of bikers last night. I’m waiting for it to be brought up at random times for the rest of our friendship.

  I smile, my gaze locked outside the front window. Now that the front glass has been replaced, I have a clear view of Bennett’s large truck parked in the space right out front. Liam stares at my store while Bennett unbuckles him from the back of the extended cab.