by AC Netzel
“This one’s for the lovers,” he says, nodding in our direction. I recognize the first notes immediately.
‘Something’ by The Beatles.
I smile and blush, briefly looking down at the concrete. Then I glance back at David and listen to his soft melodic voice and the gentle strums of the guitar strings delivering this love song straight to my heart.
I feel Ben’s gaze burning on me. I know if we make eye contact, tonight’s charade is over.
My body instinctively leans toward him. I pull it back, trying to ignore the electricity crackling between us.
I close my eyes tight when I feel his finger touch my skin, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear.
“Thank you,” I mouth, glancing in his direction.
He smiles wistfully and nods, his expressive eyes saying what’s unspoken.
Reaching into his back pocket, he grabs his wallet and throws a twenty dollar bill in the guitar case, never taking his gaze off me.
David nods with a grateful smile as he plays the last remaining notes of the song and transitions into Ed Sheeran’s, “Perfect.”
“Ready?” Ben asks.
I nod and give a quick wave to David and we continue walking.
The remainder of our walk is silent as we pass my favorite Cheese Shop and turn the corner on to Leroy Street.
I spot my apartment building in the distance and my stomach sinks. Our pace gets noticeably slower as we approach it. It’s clear that neither of us wants tonight to end anytime soon. I’m tempted to walk past it and around the block again just to have a little more time with him. We reach my building and stop at the entrance door.
“Um, we’re here.” I look up at him and he’s staring down at me with a longing I’m sure I’m reflecting back. Feeling weaker by the millisecond, I break eye contact and stare down at the cement sidewalk.
“Looks that way,” he says, tilting my chin up with his index finger until we’re lost in each other’s gaze again.
“Thank you again. I had a nice time.” My voice is shaky.
“Me too.” He pauses, swallowing hard. “I like your hair like this.” His index finger twists through a few curled strands. My breath hitches and I close my eyes briefly at his touch, tilting my head slightly until his fingertips brush lightly against my cheek.
“I… I should go in.”
He unravels my hair from his finger and presses his palm flat against the door right over my shoulder, holding me in place. His proximity is intoxicating. His lips are barely a whisper away from mine. I try to quell my need for him, but my body is desperate to respond to the magnetic force connecting us.
Tension simmers between us… An aching desire, unfulfilled. The longing is unbearable. My stomach tightens, coiling into a knot. I want him—all of him. The sexy, the kind, the loving, and the annoying parts that make me roll my eyes.
Forbidden is a powerful aphrodisiac.
“Are you sure I can’t come up with you?” he asks softly.
I’m struggling. Struggling with the physical effect Ben has over my body, the intellectual effect he has over my mind, and the emotional effect he has over my heart.
I shut my eyes briefly then swallow the lump in my throat because I know I’m about to hate myself for saying the stupidest thing I’ve ever said.
“I’m sure.” My words are barely audible.
His thumb gently skims my bottom lip. He gives me a tight smile and nods. My knees nearly buckle at his touch. My heart is pounding so hard. It may burst out of my chest. He moves his arm to his side, takes a small step back, and straightens himself out.
“Okay,” he says quietly. “I guess it’s goodnight.”
“Guess so.” I hear the words coming out of my mouth, but it’s the polar opposite of what my heart is begging me to do.
I turn around and unlock the door then turn back to face Ben. He’s so close, I’m leaning against the door, praying no one on the other side opens it and we both fall in. Ben steps closer until our bodies are practically touching. I close my eyes for a moment and inhale deeply. He smells like … him—that intoxicating something that draws me in.
He places his index finger under my chin and tilts it up as our gazes meet again.
“If I were the marrying type, I’d fall on one knee right now and beg you to marry me,” he says tenderly, never breaking eye contact.
“And if I were the friends-with-benefits type… I’d really like to be your friend.” I swallow hard.
“I’m glad I met you, Julia Conti,” his expression filled with yearning, sincerity, and the purest love.
I know he’s not talking just about tonight. He’s talking about us. Our past, present, and future. It pulls on my heartstrings and I’m about to cry.
“Me too,” I say softly, barely able to get out the words.
Taking my hand in his, he kisses the back of it. He leans in again, his beard’s stubble brushing lightly against my flushed cheek.
“Goodnight, beautiful Julia,” he whispers in my ear, the gentle hum of his voice reverberating throughout my body.
“Goodnight,” I say, choking back my emotions. I want this man. This beautiful, kind, sexy, wonderful man who has charmed my heart and soul. He gets me. Even though I know he wants more tonight, he respects my rules for this date. And once again, I find myself falling even harder for him.
He takes a small step back and gives me a wistful smile. I force a smile back, inwardly kicking myself for being such a stickler. I turn and open the front door to my building and walk inside, taking one last glance of Ben over my shoulder as he gives me a quick wink.
I walk inside and close the door behind me. Leaning against the back of the door, I stare down at the back of my hand where Ben kissed. I focus on my engagement ring and close my eyes, taking in a few deep breaths.
I should feel happy our date was so amazing, but I don’t. Emptiness is all I feel. I realize that he fills me with the things I treasure most… Laughter, kindness… and love.
So much love.
My eyes spring open. Holy hell! What the fuck did I do? I’m out of my freaking mind for letting him go. This isn’t what I want. I’m positive it isn’t what he wants either.
I grip the door handle, open it and run outside. Twisting my head side to side, I spot Ben strolling up Leroy Street toward Bleecker.
“Hey!” I holler, racing up the sidewalk to meet him. He spins around and looks at me, cocking his head.
I freeze in my spot, puffing hard to catch my breath.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his brow furrowed as he walks toward me until he stops a few feet away.
“I need to know something,” I say, still panting for air. “If I agree to this friends-with-benefits thing with you… how long do you think it would last?”
My stomach twists in knots with each leisurely step closer he takes. Once we’re face-to-face, a corner of his mouth lifts up. My heart beats wildly in my chest. He tucks a few errant strands of hair behind my ear, then gently caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. And I feel it… the seductive pull… the crackling electricity… that intense heat.
He leans in close, the coarseness of his beard’s stubble rubbing against my cheek. I close my eyes and take in a breath.
“‘Til death do us part,” he murmurs in my ear.
I gasp and my hand flies to my mouth. Warm tears well in my eyes then stream down my cheeks. I’ve never heard him say that before. It’s the most perfect thing he’s said to me all night.
He cups my face, tilting it up to him, and brushes his lips softly against mine. I whimper at his touch and it ignites something inside me. He covers my mouth with a soft, tender kiss that rapidly transforms to hungry and urgent. His tongue slides into my mouth, meeting mine as a moan escapes from the back of my throat.
I reach up, wrapping my hands around his neck, pulling him to me, desperate for this, desperate for him. It feels like the first time, that exquisitely forbidden, stolen kiss taken at my front door
that lead us to love.
“That was a pretty spectacular first kiss,” I tell him.
And it was. It really was.
“Have you had many spectacular first kisses?”
“Just once.”
He smiles warmly, knowing I’m referring to him. He reaches behind me, grabbing my ass and lifts me up as I wrap my legs around him.
“I need to be with you,” he murmurs.
“Yes.” I feel his smile against my skin and I smile too. My brain may have had virginal thoughts when we started this date, but my body obviously has other plans.
“I’m going to kiss you again. Slow and soft. Then I’m going to take you up to your apartment and fuck you hard.”
Bring. It. On.
I grab his face, pulling him toward me, and we kiss again. His tongue skillfully strokes mine—slowly, sexy, and absolutely delicious. I meet his strokes with equal fervor, a fire raging inside me. He carries me back to my building, with my legs still wrapped up around him.
He grasps the doorknob with one hand, never letting me go as he carries me through the doorway. Pushing me against the wall of the common area, he grinds his body into mine and kisses me passionately, his hands squeezing my ass hard. I want him so much I don’t give a shit if a neighbor catches us sexing it up. I will do anything he wants.
Anywhere he wants it.
Somehow he manages to maneuver us to the waiting elevator. Thank God. I was about to get on my knees and give him a more appropriate and unquestionably indecent thank you for dinner for all my neighbors to see.
He lowers me until my feet touch the ground, my legs wobbly from the hormonal rush pulsating throughout my veins. Ben stands at one side of the elevator and I stand on the opposite. White hot heat sizzles between us. We’re equally powerless to our undeniable attraction... this magnetic draw… this primal need. If we touch, there’s no doubt clothes will be torn off. Our little game of cat and mouse over dinner has brought the fuck-me-now bar higher than we’ve ever set it before.
Instinctively, I lean toward him, desperately craving contact. His sultry gaze travels up and down my body and he bites down on his bottom lip. Our gazes meet. Every filthy, carnal intention I could imagine flood my brain. I can read his wanton thoughts. He’s a very dirty boy.
My very dirty boy.
I’m a lucky girl.
I inhale a deep breath. Why does he have to smell so damned good? I want him. I want his hands all over me, his tongue everywhere, and his thick, hard, perfect dick inside me.
His eyes are hooded then unexpectedly he lunges across the elevator, grabbing my face in his hands. Pinning my body against the wall with his hip, he kisses me hard, his tongue entwined with mine as my mouth welcomes him. Grinding his pelvis into my body, I feel his impressively hard erection straining through his jeans.
This is the one time in the history of me living in this old building that I’m thankful the elevator is so fucking slow. Ben releases my face and his hands are all over me, as all constrained desire unleashes and he’s unable to hold back anymore.
“You like to tease me, don’t you?” he breathes.
“Yes.”
“See what you do to me?” He presses his erection into me.
“I’m so wet for you. So wet.”
The elevator stops. We part ways abruptly when the doors slide open. Ben grabs my hand and drags me out of the elevator down the hallway to my apartment. This is a man on a fucking mission.
Literally.
I insert my key in the lock and turn it. Ben places his hand on the door, preventing me from opening it.
“This is your last chance to change your mind. Once I step inside, I’m going to obliterate your no sex rule.”
“Annihilate it,” I say through gritted teeth. I push his arm aside and push open the door.
Once we’re inside, he kicks the door closed with the back of his foot and stalks toward me with a stare primal and sensual. I’m tingling all over. I’m on the verge of an orgasm by that lascivious look alone.
He grabs me and spins me around until my back is against his front. Slowly, he unzips the zipper in the back of my dress. Painfully slow.
My body responds to his touch instantly. My breathing is quick and shallow, my nipples hard. He teases me by running his index finger leisurely down my near-naked back. I close my eyes and hold a breath.
Skin on skin. God, I need to be fucked.
Sliding his hands into my dress, he cups my breasts over my black lace push-up bra.
“I want you naked. Are we clear?”
“Yes.”
“Get in your bedroom and wait. Don’t undress,” he orders. “You’re going to strip for me.” He leans in close, the friction from his beard’s stubble against my skin fueling my desire for him. He nibbles on my earlobe, then sucks it, his tongue tracing my outer ear. “Then I’m going to lick you until you scream.”
I nod, practically panting. For someone who hates being told what to do, it’s extraordinary how aroused I get when he takes control like this. I pull myself together enough to get my horny ass down the hall and sit on the edge of my bed waiting for Mr. Sex on Two Legs to walk in. I’m not sure what the hell he’s doing, but the anticipation is killing me. I’m aching for him. I know he knows it. Maybe he’s teasing me back. He knows once I’m revved up I need a release.
It’s probably been thirty seconds, but it feels like hours waiting for Ben. Torture. Briefly, I eye my night table drawer where I know BOB is relaxing comfortably. Ben better hurry the fuck up or BOB and I won’t be responsible for our actions.
Finally, he enters the room, with no jacket on, barefoot and tugging the knot on his tie with one hand. Mmm, he has no clue how sexy that is.
Holding two votive candles and a lighter, he places them down on either end of my dresser and lights them. He walks to the light switch and flicks the bedroom lamp off.
The softer lighting has really set the mood. It feels completely different now. The darkness hides my pigsty mess, leaving it feeling sexy, sultry, and dirty.
But in a good way this time.
I have to cool myself down. I want to savor this, savor him. His mouth explores my body. His hands are everywhere. I know the instant we make tongue to clit contact, I’ll be done in a millisecond.
He sits on the edge of the bed, never taking his eyes off me.
“Stand over there,” he orders, jutting his chin in front of him as he tugs off his tie.
The butterflies are fluttering at warp speed in my stomach as I stand in front of him.
“You look incredible in that dress. Every man in the restaurant wished he was me. Wished they could see you out of that dress. And I don’t blame them.”
I look down to the floor, embarrassed by his compliment.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I look up and meet his intense gaze. He crosses his legs with an elbow resting on one knee and his index finger stroking under his bottom lip.
“For as much as I like that dress on you, and make no mistake, I like it very much,” he murmurs. “You’ve worn it long enough. Take it off. Slowly.”
I slide the dress off my shoulders, guiding the fabric down my arms, past my waist until it drops to the floor, neatly around my shoes. Carefully, I step out of the pile and stand in front of Ben in a black lace push up bra, matching lace thong, black thigh high stockings, and stilettos.
“Jesus.” He exhales through his teeth, placing his hand over his mouth, his fingers splayed across his chin to his lips. “Spin around. I want to see every beautiful inch of you.”
There’s something about the way he looks at me when he’s this aroused that sets my insides on fire, heat rushes throughout my entire body. I love that he looks at me like I’m his plaything … his source of sin and pleasure.
Once I’m facing him again, I lean forward oh-so-slightly so he can get a better look at my ample cleavage. This push-up bra cost me sixty bucks. I’m getting my money’s worth.
He groan
s as he soaks me in and I smile to myself. I catch a quick glimpse of his free hand resting on his thigh. He’s keeping his hand busy by rubbing his index finger and thumb together. I know he’s dying to touch me. Best sixty dollar investment I’ve made all year.
“Come here.” He crooks his index finger.
I walk over and stop in front of him. He stands, reaching a hand up and traces the lace trim of my bra deliberately and unhurried. I shiver as his fingertips lightly graze across the top of my breasts spilling out of my bra. His arousal is evident by the raging hard-on ready to burst out of his jeans.
He places both hands on my shoulders and turns me around until I’m facing the opposite direction, staring at our reflections in my dresser mirror. Cupping his hands over my bra, he leans in, giving me delicate feather-light kisses on the sensitive flesh on my neck then around the curve of my shoulder. My shoulder arches up in reaction to his warm hands on my skin. I relax and tilt my head to the side, allowing him better access.
I meet his gaze in our reflection when he looks up. I never thought of myself as sexy but together— we’re sexy as fuck. The desire and yearning in his expression is alluring … erotic, hedonistic, sensuous. The back of his hand caresses the side of my breast and every muscle below my waist tenses.
His erection presses into my ass as his hand gingerly trails down the side of my torso. It tickles when he touches my waistline, and I flinch a little. The corner of his mouth curls up to a wicked smile, never breaking eye contact with me in the mirror. The bastard did that on purpose.
His hands travel up to my shoulders, sliding smoothly down my arms until his fingertips are just barely tracing the back of my bra strap. He finds the clasp and deftly unhooks it. My body is a tingling mess, my nerve endings ultra responsive, my sex throbbing. He has so much power over my need, my longing, over every licentious inch of me. I don’t care that he knows it because he always delivers.
Always.
He slides my bra straps past the curve of my shoulders and down each arm until it falls to the floor. He cups my breasts, and I lean back against him. I’m sure he feels my heart pounding. It’s taking everything in my power not to turn around and straddle him. But I’m glued to my spot, watching the sensuous couple in the mirror, like I’m a voyeur in a stranger’s bedroom.