The door was anticlimactic, the bedroom on the other side was anything but. A large, no huge, bed lay in the very centre of the room, draped in a rich, deep red cover. Behind it was a half height wall, that separated the sleeping area, from what had to be the bathroom area. I could see white tiles with splashes of that same deep red on the other side. A glassed-in shower stall, that seemed bigger than your average, stood sentinel on one side. A large mirror above a sink, with more of those high windows over top of it, between the shower and a closed in frosted glass walled toilet on the other side.
I looked over my shoulder as the door closed at my back. Another huge plasma TV screen was attached to the wall and above it, the thin, high glass windows that were above the kitchen sink. His whole house was one big, long rectangle. A wall separated the living and kitchen area from the bedroom, but that was it. And, even though it had no view to the outside world, just those high uncovered windows, it seemed like the safest place on the planet because of it.
Ben hid in the shadows when he worked. He hid in his home when he wasn't. I might have felt a sense of kin with that notion, but it also saddened me slightly. What did Ben Tamati have to hide from?
Ben squeezed my fingers with his, he hadn't let go of my hand.
"Where are you?" he asked, head ducked down to look in my eyes.
"What?" I replied, about to say, ah, your bedroom maybe?
"You're not here with me, so where are you?" Oh.
I offered a small smile. "Thinking this is a good hide."
His brows furrowed. "Hide?"
"Disguise," I clarified, wondering when the honesty would stop.
He stared at me for several seconds, then let a short puff of air out and raised his hand to indicate the bathroom.
"Make yourself at home, red. I'll give you as long as you need to freshen up."
Wow, that was so unexpected. And remarkably felt like a let-down.
"OK," I said, going to pull my hand from his, but he resolutely held on.
"Unless, of course, you want some company?"
"Company's good," I replied immediately, without thought. Then felt the blush roll up my cheeks.
Where had this person come from? This wasn't Abi Merchant. It wasn't even Sarah Monaghan. It had to be Abi Monaghan, because it had come from that place inside, that I had never dared to open outside of my dreams. But that Ben had cracked a fissure in tonight.
Ben slowly smiled down at me for one extended moment in time, then led me over to the half wall and bathroom beyond.
"Been a long day and night," he said quietly, as he reached into the shower and turned about half a dozen taps on. He didn't let go of my hand. Steam started to waft out of the stall immediately. He shut the door to keep it trapped and turned to face me fully.
Slowly, so very, very slowly, he reached for my satchel, which had still been hanging on my shoulder for fear of leaving it out of my sight. His eyes on mine, he seemed to understand what taking the bag from me meant, because he paused, raised his eyebrows at me in question, and when I nodded, only then removed the satchel from its perch. He leaned down and placed it against the half wall, then returned to stand before me.
We were both breathing a bit too quickly. The sound of our breaths drowned out by the pelt of water against the glass of the shower stall. I waited for his next move. There was no way I could reach for him first. Even if Abi Monaghan was more honest than any other incarnation I'd ever had, right now she was frozen to the spot.
Thankfully, he seemed to understand. Gently, he reached over and slid the fingers of both his hands under the collar of my jacket, then pushed it off the back of my shoulders and down my arms. His hands came to rest where the jacket had been moments before. His thumbs rubbed soft circles against my collar bone, on both sides, above the singlet top I still wore. Then swept down my chest, against my ribs, past my breasts, until he could grasp the bottom of the shirt. His fingers fisted the hem, while his eyes remained steadfast on mine, and then he simply lifted the top up, forcing my arms to follow.
In next to no time, I was standing before him in hipsters, boots and a bra. His eyes still locked on mine. God knows how he managed it, if his chest had been bare there was no way I would have been able to look away. Which might explain why he removed his T-shirt then, before going on to strip me further. Somehow Ben saw right through my hide, right through to what lay inside. I don't think he realised that yet.
And what a chest. My eyes devoured it, every single ridge and valley. Every mark that marred that perfectly edible mocha coloured skin. He had a scar above his right nipple. I wanted to trace it. He had a mole on his left side, halfway down his torso. I wanted to touch it. He had a slight smattering of dark hair across his chest, which flowed down a beautiful line across abs-to-die-for, straight for his groin. I wanted to play with it.
I saw all of these little perfect additions to his body with such astounding clarity, but I was surprised I'd noticed them at all. Because his Tiki tattoo, on his right arm, didn't stop at his right shoulder. How many people knew that? How many people looked at Ben Tamati in a T-shirt and knew that beautiful piece of artwork went further than the sleeve? It arced across his collar bone, then angled down in a spiral of tribal imagery covering one whole side of his chest. It. Was. Stunning.
I couldn't pull my eyes away. I couldn't breathe. I had been close to tattoos before. I'd seen some of the members of Devil's Henchmen showing off their recent acquisitions in the mechanic's shop where I had worked. I knew good art when I saw it. But none spoke to me like this.
My hand came up and a finger traced the spiral before I even knew what I was doing. As soon as my fingertip touch his flaming hot skin he jerked. My eyes flicked up to his face, to find his eyelids closed. He was sucking in air like he was drowning. I smiled to myself and returned my attention to his tat.
I don't know how long it took to trace every line, every curve, every pattern. I hoped he had a large hot water cylinder, and then I scratched that thought, and decided I didn't care. Shower, no shower. What did it matter? Touching this, seeing this, feeling this was all there was left in the world. At some point he must have opened his eyes again, he'd probably been watching my progress for some time, I don't know. My attention had all been for the artwork painted so meticulously across his body. I hadn't looked at his face again, since that first glance.
But eventually his left arm came up and wrapped around the back of my body and undid the clasp of my bra. I removed it and let it fall to the ground distractedly, returning my fingers to the tattoo on this glorious man. His chest rumbled with amusement.
"You wanna get one of your own, Abi," he suggested on a laugh.
"Can't run and hide with bodywork," I pointed out. It was too identifying, especially the type of design I'd like.
"If you weren't runnin'?" he asked, starting to undo the buttons on my jeans.
I nodded my head, moving on to trace his Tiki, making him work my jeans with only his left hand.
"What would you have, red?" he whispered, last button coming undone.
"An eagle," I said, still tracing. "On my back so the bullseye can never return."
His fingers stilled, left hand wrapped around the top of my jeans, right halfway between where it had been hanging loosely during my study of his arm tattoo and my waist - where he was obviously going to grab my jeans to haul them off me.
He turned me around slowly and I wondered if he took the bullseye statement literally, thinking I had one painted there. His finger slowly tracked down my spine and came to rest in the dip above my rear. He then grasped both sides of my jeans and panties, pulling them down my legs. I toed off the boots and socks, and kicked the clothes free, but didn't turn back around to face him.
The heat of his body hit me before his chest did. I knew instantly he was naked too. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me close against his hard frame, then his lips trailed lightly across my shoulder, over to my back.
"You'll have an eagle here o
ne day," he said, as though making a promise.
My eyes closed and I leaned my weight back into him. He nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck and then sucked skin between his lips. I felt his teeth graze me, then a lick of his tongue followed. He was such a tactile man, yet when you saw him stepping out of those shadows, you'd believe nothing could touch him, nothing could reach him. You'd be wrong.
My head fell back against his pecs as his tongue continued to trace its own pattern across my skin. His hands rested on my waist, fingers splayed in the front, thumbs nestled over the small mounds of my hips at the back. They rubbed softly. I felt his erection branding me from behind. He didn't push into me, didn't seek any sort of stimulation or relief. His sole focus was tasting me. At my neck.
I'd never experienced anything so sensual as this before. And he hadn't even turned me around, or touched my breasts. The temptation to do so must have been huge, but Ben Tamati was in no hurry. Quite content to take his own sweet time.
Eventually, after he'd licked and sucked and kissed every available spot down my neck, across my shoulder blades, and part way down my back, he reached forward and opened the shower stall door. Steam billowed out and engulfed us, adding droplets of water to the sweat that had begun to grace my skin.
I felt feverish. I felt tingly. I felt hot. I felt alive.
Ben gently pushed me forward into the stall and under the first rain shower spout. The glass door swung closed behind us with a swish, making the steam waft around our ankles and kiss the sides of our legs. Water sprayed over my hair, plastering it to me. I reached up and pushed it back off my face, letting a few drops land on my tongue. Ben just continued to drink me down, to lick the stream of water that coated my shoulders, to suckle against my neck.
Finally he turned me around to face him, his hands gentle but determined against my sides. The water washed down between us, the steam rose up around us, and for the briefest of moments our eyes met. Then his darted down. First to my breasts, which surprisingly only lasted a split second.
But it didn't take long to realise why. The moment he'd spotted the small thatch of blonde curls at the juncture of my thighs he sucked in a breath, took a step backwards to get a better view, swallowed thickly and then made the most incredibly erotic sound at the back of his throat; half moan, half growl.
In the next instant he had my shoulders pushed back against the now warmed tiles of the shower wall and he was on his knees before me. He spread my legs with the palms of his large hands at my ankles, then without warning hoisted my right calf over his shoulder. I was displayed, ready for his perusal. Stripped of all my defences and laid bare.
I held my breath, whilst gripping the wall behind me for balance and then watched as his head dipped, that growl-come-moan rocked up his throat again and his tongue swept down the centre of my core.
I moaned.
He groaned.
And then I felt myself letting go - releasing, at least, a part of me.
Chapter 10
Because Of Us And Right Now
It took a moment to realise Ben had moved. From the floor of the shower stall, to right before me; chest to chest, nose to nose. My eyes came open languidly and stared directly at his closed lids. He was breathing as quickly as I was, his hands flat against the shower wall at my back, one each side of my head. His forehead almost resting against mine. Water continued to rain down around us, steam rose high, thick in the confines of the space we were in.
It was extremely private, being cloaked in a haze created by the water and the steam, and having had such a moment of intimacy between us. Something that stripped me completely and left me bare. Reality, in this instant, was better than any dream could ever be. I searched his face, a stranger's face which seemed to resonate a familiarity in me that I'd never experienced before. I didn't really know him, but I'd let him inside my walls as though he had every right to be there. And I knew I'd let him inside them again.
Because for some reason Ben Tamati felt safe, despite evidence that he should not.
My hand came up and cupped his cheek, my fingers running over stubble. He pressed his face into my palm, nuzzled my hand like a cat seeking comfort. And then opened those chocolate pools of light and stared right at me.
"You taste so sweet, little red," he whispered huskily. "Better than I feared."
My brows furrowed.
"Feared?" I asked, also only a whisper and maybe a touch husky as well.
He nodded as though that was answer enough, then tipped his face closer and kissed my lips. It was such a chaste kiss. No tongue, no open mouths. Just the whisper of soft flesh against soft flesh. He was such a enigma, this man who hid in shadows. He clearly wanted me, even though he shouldn't. He'd taken the necessary steps to have me, but he was still holding himself back from having all of me.
"What do you really want, Ben Tamati?" I asked, trying to puzzle him out.
"You. In my bed. Your lips wrapped around my cock. Me buried inside you, watchin' you fall apart under my touch."
My heart rate accelerated. My breath came out in a burst of expelled air.
"I want that too," I admitted softly, that sensation of life bursting through me on those forbidden words.
He stared at me, really looked deep in my eyes, then said, "Blue," out of nowhere. I guess reminding himself of the true colour of my eyes. Something flicked across his face briefly, a shift in his mask, making the chocolate of his eyes turn granite dark. Then he wrapped a hand around the back of my neck and crushed his lips to mine.
This was no chaste kiss. This was something entirely different. He ground his mouth against me, he forced his tongue inside, although I had no intention of denying him. He plastered himself to my body, he dominated my lips and tongue. He forced a moan from deep within me. And I suddenly got the impression that this was him marking me, removing all evidence of what I was before. Claiming me, making me acknowledge the Abi that I am now; blue eyes, beads in hair. No longer staid Abi, but a new version, a quasi version of the real me.
I also thought perhaps he was making himself acknowledge all this too. I'd seen a hint of anger in that slip of his mask just before, when he commented on my eye colour. A reminder that I had been hidden from him, from everyone, for so long. Ben Tamati, with this kiss that ruled my body, commanded my capitulation, was telling me I would hide no more.
At least I would hide no more from him. He demanded it.
But I had seen the man in the shadows too. I had seen the cover he'd created as his home. If Ben Tamati was going to insist I hide no more from him, then he damn well was not going to hide from me either.
My hand went up into his short dark hair, fisting the strands, pulling his face closer, demanding he not stop. The other hand wound around his body, landing on his well developed butt, pulling his erection against me, crushing his body into mine as though with my will alone I could meld him to me. He groaned into my mouth, deepened the kiss further, and flattened my back to the tiled wall. His hot sex pulsed between us, he rocked his hips in a movement that finally told me he was losing a little of that hard fought for control. It only made me more determined. My right leg, the one that had hung over his shoulder earlier, wrapped around his thigh, opening myself up to that glorious arousal of his, tempting him with a tilt of my pelvis as I rose up on the tip of my toes to just the right height.
He pulled his groin back a fraction, making me whimper at the loss of contact, then repositioned himself with a shift of his hips, so his erection ran between my thighs, through the moistness of my folds.
"Te pai kē!" he breathed against me, rocking his hips, enjoying the sensation of friction, the closeness to his final goal. But he didn't take it further. He didn't wrap my other leg around his hips and slide me down his shaft. He just continued to rub through that channel, not quite seated, just outside where I longed for him to be.
For several minutes we enjoyed the sensations of our bodies rubbing, grinding, against each other. I wanted more. I needed
more. But Ben was firmly in charge. Every time I tried to climb up his body to force him to lift me into his arms and open me up so he could sink home, he'd deny me. Every time I shifted my pelvis, tried to get him to stop at my entrance so I could rock him in just a little, he'd refuse to stop his bump and grind. Frustration gnawed at me. Arousal built within me. My body literally came alive.
Then when he decided to move things along, his choice was, instead of shifting me so he could finally enter me, to dip his head down so he could wrap his lips around my breast instead. I arched against him, forcing more friction at our cores, but giving him unhindered access to my nipples as well. I was so damn turned-on and for a moment couldn't decide what would be better. His tongue and teeth nipping and sucking my nipples, or his thick sex thrust deep inside.
"Ben," I begged finally, unable to not voice my need. But instead of giving me what I wanted he simply stepped away, creating distance between our lower bodies, all the while he continued to lavish attention on my breast.
I had never felt so raw with desire, so lost to the moment, so disappointed to not get what I craved. Sensations I had never had the chance to experience before, in reality, rocked through me. Forcing sounds from my lips I'd never heard before. Deep keening noises, frustrated mewling sounds. Desperation coated my body and sunk deep down inside, and could be heard in every utterance from my mouth.
Ben's hand came up and grabbed mine, which had been resting ineffectually on top of his head, almost holding him in place at my breast, despite desperately wanting something else right then. He slowly brought our hands down between us, even as he shifted from that first nipple and began to devour the other breast. He wrapped my fingers around his sex, covered my hand with his bigger one, then rocked his shaft in my palm, showing me with his own hand how hard he wanted me to stroke.
Sweet Seduction Shadow Page 10