More wetness pooling between my thighs, above his face. It would have to be dripping by now.
Several seconds passed, where I had to focus on what was beneath my fingers in order to endure the wait for another of his touches. It was... excruciating. The mixture of pleasure under my tongue with the fierce ache between my legs. I decided to take back a little control and licked down the side of his erection to suckle on one of his sacs.
I was rewarded with one single digit being pushed so very slowly into my depths. But as soon as he was fully seated, knuckle deep within, he stopped all further movement. I licked back up his sex, then down the other side to his neglected sac, sucking it gently between my lips.
His finger pulled out, a second was added, and then inch by inch pushed back inside.
Stop.
My eyes crossed, lids closed of their own accord and it took everything in me not to rock my hips and seek the friction I craved.
I released my mouthful and nibbled up the side of his cock, swirled my tongue around the tip, tasting sweet strawberry all over again, and then teeth softly grazing, took him in as far as my gag reflex would allow. There was still several inches of his sex outside my mouth, but more inside than I had managed before.
My reward was a pump of his two fingers, a thumb swipe over my clit, and then his hand was suddenly gone.
My knees began to shake. I pulled back to the tip of his erection with my lips, sucked hard around the head, and then took him deeper still.
Three fingers stretched me wide, the friction it created making me moan around his cock and somehow take him even deeper. His hips rocked up forcing more length inside. I took everything he gave me, hungry for more.
We both stopped. His cock deep inside my mouth. His fingers deep inside my core.
"Fuckin' hell, you're a turn-on," he whispered, hot breath washing my sensitive skin.
I hummed my answer, received a jerk of his sex in my mouth and then the dam broke.
I hungrily sucked his length down as he pumped his fingers into me and added his tongue at my swollen nub. The angle meant he stretched me open further, the base of his fingers rubbing by my rear, the tip finding that elusive G-spot inside. He pounded against it, while he somehow managed to suckle my clit at the same time.
Light started exploding behind my eyelids, yet I wasn't quite ready to let go. His hips rocked in time to my hips grinding. The tip of his cock repeatedly knocked on the back of my throat and I still wanted more. He started making little grunting sounds that reverberated through my sex, my moans joined in, no doubt doing the same to his sex. I had never had such an intense sexual encounter such as this. Such an open and honest give and take. Nothing else existed, but his hard length inside my mouth, and my taste on his tongue and wetness on his fingertips.
I wanted us both to come like this and I prayed he was game for that too.
I felt it building, getting closer and closer. His cock swelled beneath the condom, beneath my lips and tongue. I moaned and ground back against his mouth and fingers, seeking the elusive push that would send me over that promising edge. His hand, not pumping into me, cupped my butt, and then his thumb slipped between the cheeks and pushed at the entrance there.
Holy shit, I had never had anyone touch me there before and for a moment everything stopped. And then he flicked the three fingers inside me finding the exact right spot, sucked hard against my clit and pushed his thumb just inside my rear.
I exploded. There was no other word for it. The world came apart in a dizzying array of colours and sparks. My body spasmed so violently, a flood felt like it was gushing right through my core. I heard Ben groan an erotic sound behind me, that rocked through my entire frame. He continued to suck and pump and play there eking out more and more until I felt utterly boneless and entirely sated.
And then I felt him swell further, his hips raise up off the bed and he shouted-moaned into my thigh as hot liquid filled the tip of the condom while I continued to suck and stroke him until he was spent.
I collapsed down along the length of him, letting his sex slip from my mouth with a gentle kiss, and closed my eyes enjoying the sensation of weightlessness. Savouring the taste of the condom, the feel of him beneath my lips. Celebrating another moment of free.
"Fuckin' hell," Ben whispered beneath me. "You're a fuckin' firecracker," he said, kissing the side of my thigh. My lips spread in a smile against the skin of his leg, my tongue came out lazily and licked the salty sweat off his skin.
Then suddenly I was rolled off him, he somehow turned himself around, disposed of the condom in the process, and then was covering my frame - our heads to the bottom of the bed, his leg slipping between mine, his body down my side. He rested on one elbow above me, and lifted his other hand to push my hair off my face. I noticed it shook slightly. His eyes were a dark chocolate colour, his face serious, but not that mask he so often wears.
He licked his lips, his eyes darting down to my mouth. His head followed, dipping down slowly, eyes now target locked on mine, and then with one sweep of his tongue along the bottom lip of my mouth, I reached up and clasped a hand behind his neck and pulled him down. Our lips locked, our tongues tangled, our tastes entwined. We both moaned. He was musk and me and him and sex and everything erotic and sensual that I was beginning to expect from the man. He was perfect.
Moments passed, maybe lifetimes, I'm not sure, but everything else disappeared except him. The kiss. The noises of contentment he made. The feel of his thigh rubbing intimately between my legs. The press of his returning erection against my hip. The man was a machine in bed, but what a machine he was.
Eventually he pulled back and just looked at me, a contemplative expression replacing the lustful one of before. I blinked up at him, trying to make out his thoughts. It was impossible. Ben Tamati may have shown a part of himself he rarely let known, but there were still so many facets to this man.
I guess a bit like me.
"You gonna stay in my bed today?" he eventually asked.
"I should phone my boss and let her know I'm OK." If I was staying for a while longer - and I certainly wanted to stay a while longer now - I needed to return to my cover. I couldn't hide out for three days in Ben's home. He had work to do, no doubt, and I had to keep active to save myself from melting down. Just because every warning signal I'd had recently hadn't been Roan McLaren, didn't mean he still wasn't out there, trying to hunt me down.
And that thought led to the one thought I should have been having but hadn't let back in through the weightless bubble Ben had created. Who had hired Ben and what did they want?
Something must have shown on my face, because Ben scowled. Ben was handsome with his placid face. He was gorgeous when in the throes of bliss. But an angry Ben, was surprisingly delicious too. I smiled up at him, unable to stop my reaction to this man.
He huffed out a breath and leaned in to lay a kiss against my lips; light, simple, but meaning so much.
"You're stayin' in my bed today," he announced, decision made.
I nodded, still smiling.
"Phone your boss, let her know you're OK," he said, voice low. "Then I want you back here, in between the sheets. I've not had my fill of you yet."
Oh God, I'd barely had a taste of him and wanted so much more. Thinking he felt the same way as me, was an unbelievable sensation. Another first to add to the many Ben was introducing me to.
He let me up off the bed and I fetched my cellphone. It wasn't a nice feeling lying to Angela. And not only did guilt assuage me, but mixed in amongst it was a sense of confusion, because I'd never thought twice about my lies before. But she was so upset with my sudden disappearance, as though she hadn't slept a wink, since I failed to show for work, due to fear. Fear that something bad had happened to me.
I spent a good ten minutes fabricating a story about falling ill and crashing at an old friend's place and promising to be at work tomorrow when the last of my "illness" was sure to wear off.
A hollowness
filled me up inside when I returned my phone to my bag and moved to the bed Ben was still lying back on. He'd watched the entire conversation, no doubt heard Angela's side of it too. And no doubt seen the look of utter pain on my face.
He didn't say anything, just held his hand for me to grasp and pulled me close against his chest. Then he just held me. Guilt, confusion... and now amazement that this man could read me, could see what I needed and gave it without a second thought. What would my life be like if I didn't need to run anymore? Would it involve a man like Ben Tamati? I couldn't imagine another man like him. He was unique. He mirrored me in so many ways. He was perfect.
Just then his cellphone buzzed on the night stand beside his bed. He reached over, keeping me in the protective cocoon of his arm and then once settled back against the pillows, swiped the screen with his thumb. Watching his thumb move had me thinking of delicious and extremely naughty things.
"Yeah," he announced gruffly into the mouthpiece of the phone.
I heard the male voice on the other end of the line easily, the speaker on his phone, at his ear, was crisp and clear. I'm not sure he realised that.
"Where the fuck have you been?" the caller asked.
"Workin'," Ben replied with one of his succinct answers.
"Her tracker's gone off grid. Blocked maybe."
"Yeah, I know. It's all in hand," Ben replied, an ever so slight stiffness entering his frame. He didn't pull away though, if anything he held me tighter, as though the caller was a threat he wanted to protect me from.
"Ben," the voice said, an echo of something in his tone I didn't get. "It disappeared in Cook Street."
"Like I said," Ben answered. "It's all in hand."
"Ben, my man," the caller persisted. "Cook Street," he said again, and I realised, having seen that motorway sign outside Ben's garage door, that we were close to Cook Street, if not still on it. I wasn't sure, my knowledge of inner Auckland roads was not sound, but Ben's street did run parallel to the motorway and looked like it could head down to the Cook Street off-ramp as well.
"Nick, I got it, OK?" Ben pushed back, an edge to his tone that clearly meant, fuck off! I couldn't help being surprised at Ben's continued defiance of this "Nick" person, who undoubtedly was his boss. The man who sent him to shadow me.
But Ben wasn't giving anything away. More importantly, he wasn't giving me away. Another small part of my heart broke open, letting a little more of this man inside.
"I fucking hope so, e hoa," the caller said, his voice as hard as ice.
"I'll be in to give a report tomorrow," Ben said, voice low, but not as if he was trying to hide what he was saying from me. Although, I got the distinct impression he was hiding from the caller right then.
"Make sure you do." The dial tone sounded loud after those final words.
Ben sat still for several seconds, then reached forward and slipped his phone onto the side table with purpose. He turned his body back to me. His face was impassive. No emotions, no hint of what was going on underneath. But I could see through that mask now. I could see the man he really was beneath that hide.
And at that moment, I knew that no matter what life threw at us, I wanted to be in this man's world. Because he was breaking all the rules for me, because he was standing between me and the monsters knocking on the door.
Ben Tamati was my giant... and I was not going to let him slip away.
Chapter 12
And Didn't That Just Suck?
"Where the hell have you been?" Kelly's demanding voice hit me before the door to Sweet Seduction swung closed at my back. Shit. I'd forgotten to phone her yesterday, when I rang Angela with my pathetic illness excuse.
"Um, I was sick. While visiting an old friend. Out west." My words were coming in short sentences; abrupt, not thought out, telling. "And couldn't get up off the bed to phone anyone." I almost didn't manage to hide my cringe at those pathetically spoken and untruthful words. My reaction to lying was becoming ridiculous. It felt more than just a falsehood now. It felt more and more like a killing blow instead.
"Oh," Kelly said, all bluster gone at my untrue words. "Are you better?"
I nodded numbly, unable to make a sound for fear it would be a sob. And with sudden clarity, I knew I wanted to tell her everything. For the first time in my life, I wanted to cleanse my soul, put it all out there. Start all over again with this woman, who had fast become a friend.
"And what have you done to your hair?" she asked, cocking her head slightly and squinting her eyes at the shorter length.
I had dyed it ginger again late last night. Ben had watched the entire episode with a contained inquisitiveness. I could tell he wanted to comment, but he held his tongue and simply looked on.
"And are those beads?" she asked, walking closer, an incredulous note in her voice.
I rattled them with a shake of my head, unable to hide a small smile at the crisp clinking sound they made. When I had popped out last night to pick up a hair dye, I'd also invested in some Abi Merchant appropriate beads. These ones were delicate and made of glass, in shades of blue to complement my eyes.
Which led to Kelly's next disbelieving discovery. "Are your eyes blue? Hold on a minute. Who are you and what have you done with Abi?"
My smile fell on those words, because how more truthful could they be? I had always been playing at being Abi. I wasn't really her, and she wasn't really me.
"OK, I get it," Kelly said, fingering my beads. "You weren't sick at all. You got drunk, cut off your hair and decided to have a mini make-over instead. I understand, I've been through a similar phase myself, but mine involved a surfer, board-shorts and sun-kissed dreads. It was not a pretty sight."
My smile returned.
"Your new look, on the other hand, suits you. Although I never would have picked you for a redhead with blue eyes," she said, turning to swipe up some empty plates and cups from a nearby table.
"I'm actually a pale blonde. The blue eyes are natural though."
Holy shit, where did that come from?
Kelly slowly rose from her crouched position picking up dishes, she worked on settling the pile of stacked plates and cups in her arms for a moment, and then lifted her big blue eyes up to meet mine.
"You wanna talk about it?" she said, no hint of demand, just an open offer to listen.
I sucked in a breath feeling like I was standing on a precipice and any moment now something would come along and push me over the edge into the dark abyss. But Kelly wasn't dangerous, she wasn't who and what I had been hiding from for so long. She was the first person to make it through my rigid barriers, the first person I have considered a friend. I wasn't one hundred percent sure, but part of me was willing to bet, that Kelly Quayle would listen to my story and not even bat an eyelid.
She may not have been the danger I was trying to avoid, but that didn't mean telling her wasn't dangerous. For her. I wasn't quite sure if I was ready to open up to that degree, to risk a friend when they didn't need to be at risk. Roan could use her, could harm her. I'm uncertain how exactly, but he was creative when it came to getting what he wanted. For now she was safer not knowing too much.
But, I was sick of the lies and recently lying to Kelly, to someone I liked and respected, felt wrong. So, a version of the truth.
Or a stall. I'm uncertain which.
"I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about it, but you'd be the first I'd sit down with a bottle of wine and tell my secrets to."
She stared at me for so long I thought perhaps I'd made a mistake and then she just nodded.
"OK, sweet pea. Whenever you're ready, I'll provide the wine."
I smiled gratefully at her. "For now I'd settle for our usual morning coffees. And you better throw a chocolate treat in there for Angela, I'm buttering her up."
"That I can do," she said, stashing her dirty dishes in the bin behind the counter, to be hauled out back. She gave Lucas my order and bagged up a couple of I ♥ U heart shaped morsels, choosing the perfect bribe chocol
ate without having to be asked.
Grabbing up my stash, I promised to be home for dinner that evening and headed across the street to Pennyworth's. The doors were still locked, as it was before 9am, but upon seeing me, Angela jumped up and sashayed to the front of shop. Her perfectly styled grey hair bobbing at her ears as she moved, her elegant fingers sifting through a set of keys in her hand. They rattled as she swung the door open.
"Oh, I love that look on you, Abi," she exclaimed, taking in my new hair colour and then pausing slightly on the colour of my eyes. She shook her head gently, a small smile on her face, but chose to ignore the obvious question my new look posed. Instead she said, "How're you feeling, dear?"
I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent a repeat of my earlier performance at Sweet Seduction with her, and offered a wan smile instead. New make-over aside, I had to stick to my original excuse for missing work two days in a row.
"Still a little shaky, but ten times better than yesterday." Lies, lies and more lies. I was drowning in them and a part of me was quite happy to go under, because then I'd surely feel no more guilt.
"You poor thing," she said in her most motherly tone, which seemed incongruous with her short tailored deep red skirt suit. The suit matched the colour of her nail polish which complemented her lip gloss to a T. Angela was one of the most well put-together people I had ever met. Abi Merchant modelled herself on her. "Take it easy today, sweetie. I don't expect we'll be rushed off our feet."
Mid-week on High Street was our quietest time, not that the foremost fashion strip in Auckland was ever really devoid of clientèle, it just seemed to slow a little on Wednesdays. Those were the days Angela usually sent me on errands. Dropping off repairs around Queen Street, picking up whatever bits and bobs she needed around town.
I slipped back into the routine with ease, enjoying Angela's bubbly conversation and the slower, but regular pace of work in the store. By Lunchtime I felt back on an even keel, almost stable enough to forget the paranoia of the past few days. Then just after the lunch rush died, Angela gave me my first errand to run. I must have started to look and act like the real Abi Merchant in her eyes by then, making her feel able to send me trotting lower downtown to a business in Fort Street I hadn't been to before.
Sweet Seduction Shadow Page 12