Home Sweet Home

by Melanie Shawn

  “God, I've missed you!” she exclaimed.

  “Me too, Bri,” he said, the power of his affection making his throat tight.

  She drew back, laughing happily, and then ruffled his hair.

  “You know, Mom's gonna kick your ass if you don't call her soon just to talk. Every time you call it's to get an update on her medical situation, and she feels like you're too worried about her.”

  Ben sighed, “Gee, sis, so glad you could make it out from UCLA on such short notice. You're like a little ray of sunshine popping into my life.”

  Brianna shrugged, “I live to serve, big bro.”

  Ben spoke carefully, knowing full well that he was broaching sensitive territory. “So...how is Mom doing? It's hard to tell on Skype.”

  Brianna shrugged, looking down at her t-shirt, plucking at a thread which had apparently become suddenly quite fascinating, “Oh, you know. Good days and bad days. She doesn't want you to worry.”

  Ben barked out a short, ironic burst of laughter, “Well, that's a non-starter.”

  Brianna's lips formed a sad little half-smile, “Yeah. I know. I mean, she just feels bad about you taking care of her, you know? Like, she should be taking care of you, instead. But she can't.”

  Ben nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

  “So, is this what you've been upset about? You've been worried about Mom?”

  Ben crinkled his forehead, “Who said I've been upset?”

  “Mom said you've been cranky the past couple of times she's talked to you.”

  Ben shrugged, “Well, yeah, I mean...the past few times we've talked, she's had discouraging medical news to share, I'm not gonna throw a party on Skype.”

  Brianna narrowed her eyes at him, “Yeahhhh...this is more than that.”

  Ben shook his head in annoyance at his little sister's persistence.

  “Is it money? Because you know you don't have to pay for UCLA. I can get a job, student loans...”

  “Hell, no! I'm not having you graduate from college, already strangled with debt! Besides, money's going well. I've got this new show in the works, and the agency's doing better than ever. Don't worry about money. I've got your school covered, several times over.”

  Her eyes narrowed further, “Then it must be...a girl...” she said knowingly.

  “Nope,” he responded, a little too quickly.

  “HAH!” she pointed a finger at him accusatorially, “It IS a girl! You sly dog, you! Mom was right! It's that woman you’re working on the show with. Laura, or something.”

  “Lauren.”

  “Ben and Lauren,” she tried the combination out on her tongue, considering thoughtfully as she said it, concluding, “I like it. It has a nice ring to it.”

  Ben gave her a mysterious half-smile but refused to acknowledge what she was saying.

  “Aww...” she fawned over him with a wide, playful grin, “I think it's cute! I like seeing you tied up in knots over a girl. It's a helluva lot more fun thing to be tied up in knots over than the things you normally have to worry about. Little concerns like taking care of a sick mother and practically raising a pain-in-the-ass little sister. Not to mention being financially responsible for both of those things.”

  He smiled, ruffling her hair, “You know I wouldn't trade it.”

  “You know, Ben. I may be only 20, but I am studying to be a psychologist. You should tell me what's going on. I could help.”

  He snorted. “There's not a snowball's chance in hell that's gonna happen, my little pain-in-the-ass,” he said affectionately.

  She smiled the superior smile only indulged in by those who know they have the ultimate upper hand, “Fine,” she said airily, pulling out her phone, “If you don't want to talk to me, I'll just call mom. I'll tell her how miserable you look, and that it's over a girl.”

  “Bri, don't be a brat. Mom needs to be resting. She doesn't need you calling her and bothering her with this.”

  “Ha!” Brianna cried triumphantly, “You think I'm calling and bothering her? She sent me on this mission, dear brother! I'm supposed to be fact-gathering! She's expecting my call!”

  “Bri, don't,” Ben said more emphatically, his voice taking on a warning tone.

  “I'm dialing,” Brianna sing-songed, sliding her finger across the face of her phone to unlock it.

  Ben grabbed for the phone, but she was young and nimble, and she managed to keep it away from him.

  Not wanting to burden his Mom with his tales of Lauren-related woe while she should be focusing on recovery, he reluctantly relented.

  “Fine, fine!” he said a little too loudly, “I'll tell you what's going on.”

  Smiling triumphantly, Brianna put away her phone and then hopped up on the bed, crossing her legs in front of her like a kindergartner getting ready for storytime.

  “OK, then, Benny boy. Spill,” she said gleefully.

  Ben shook his head, reluctantly launching into the tale. Glossing over the sex part, of course. He shuddered. God! She may be twenty, but he didn't think she'd EVER be old enough for him to talk about that with!

  When he detailed all of the tense situations that had happened that week during shooting, she asked pointedly, “So, all of this tense and mildly hostile interaction – including her going to the Policeman’s Ball with her hunky cop friend – that's all been since you got back from Aspen?”

  He nodded.

  “So, have you asked her what changed?”

  Ben shook his head in the negative.

  Brianna rolled her eyes, “And you say I'm the immature one! Do you think she's just freaked out because you guys slept together?”

  Ben, shocked, spluttered, “We...what are you...I never said...”

  “Yeah,” she said dryly, “Calm down. I know you didn't explicitly say it. You were very careful to euphemism the hell out of it. But, in my experience, when two sexy and consenting adults who are hot for each other go out of town together for the weekend and their 'relationship changes' and their 'connection evolves' and they 'grow much closer' – well, let's just say it's a pretty safe bet that they did it. Several times, in all likelihood.”

  Ben closed his eyes, pained, “I'm still operating under the assumption that you don't even know what 'it' is and you never will. Please don't disabuse me of that notion.”

  Brianna sighed, “Look, Ben, I'm not a little kid, no matter what you might lull yourself into believing. I know about this stuff. And what I know right now is that, no matter what else happens, no matter what comes of it – you need to sit down and talk to her about it.”

  Ben gave a quick, decisive shake of his head, “No way. She's clearly not taking this seriously. Why should I?”

  “Because it's obvious to me that this is the first relationship you've ever had that you actually ARE taking seriously. Don't you think that at least deserves a conversation?”

  “I'm not taking it that seriously,” Ben protested.

  Brianna rolled her eyes, her preferred way of expressing the sentiment of 'Whatever!' since she had turned twelve years old.

  “I'm not,” he reiterated, although more weakly.

  “Sure, bro,” she said sarcastically, “whatever you say.”

  Ben shook his head, but knew in his heart of hearts that he himself did not believe his own protests any more than she did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After a tense morning of shooting pick-up shots, Lauren went to her trailer to wait for the town car to come pick them up and take them to the airport. She saw Ben go through the door to his, as well. She sighed. Ships passing in the night. No. That sounded too dreamy, too romantic, too passive. They were more like combatant armored tanks passing in the night, only kept from firing on one another by an uneasy truce.

  Lauren was still fuming from seeing the girl going into Ben’s room the night before, and how he was compounding her anger by persisting in giving her the silent treatment.

  Oh, unless of course the camera was rolling. Then he turned on the charm
like nobody’s business!

  Lauren couldn't get her conversation with Karina out of her head, it was playing on a loop..and frankly, driving her crazy.

  Finally, she realized that she would never get peace by just stewing about the situation with Ben, turning it over and over in her head like a chicken on a spit. There was nothing new to be learned from that, no progress that would be made that way.

  Nope. The only sensible thing to do – hell, the only thing to do, period – was go over to his trailer and have this out with him, once and for all. It wasn't going to get better until she took some action to make it better, and when it came to taking action, Lauren's motto had always been – no time like the present.

  She walked over to Ben's trailer, her metaphorical armor on and guns drawn, ready for battle. She smiled amiably at the crew members she passed. She may not admire a whole lot of things about Ben Stevens and the way that he acted, but she did admire how he separated his emotions from his professional demeanor. She could do the same.

  Still. She wondered if, beyond the thin facade of her friendly greeting, they could see the steam coming out of her ears as she approached enemy territory.

  She reached Ben's door and raised her hand to knock, but was stopped momentarily by a roiling feeling in her gut. Damn. Why was her stomach so unsettled? Was it something that she ate? Could it be...butterflies? NERVES? Not possible. She didn't get them.

  She shook her head. She wasn't going to stand here on the steps of his trailer door and analyze her feelings. She was doing this. If she puked on his shoes while she was doing it, well...he kind of deserved it. All the better.

  Lauren knocked purposefully on the door. Ouch, she thought, maybe that was a bit loud...

  But she didn't even have time to stop and consider that, because mere seconds after she had knocked, the door flew open, revealing Ben, standing in front of her, obviously having just gotten out of the shower. His chest gleamed with condensation, his hair dripped small beads of water mesmerizingly onto his shoulders, and he wore nothing at all except for a pair of black boxer briefs that looked like they had been made just for his gorgeous body.

  Lauren stood there, stunned momentarily speechless by what she saw in front of her and the rush of hormones that it set off.

  Ben smirked, a spark of lust glinting in his eye, as well. “Enjoying the view?” he asked with an acerbic little smile.

  This barb brought Lauren back to reality. Her anger flared again and she pushed her way roughly past him into the trailer.

  “You know what?” she said angrily, further infuriated by the blasé manner he adopted, casually leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, as she stepped inside the trailer and shut the door behind her.

  “I don't appreciate being treated like a second class citizen, like dirt on your shoe, like an irritation you have to deal with! I want to be treated with respect.”

  His languidly cavalier smile as he watched her rant caused her stomach to drop. Dammit. She'd shown her hand by revealing her roiling emotions. Now he knew he held the power position. She never would have done this in a professional negotiation. Why was she losing her touch?

  “Respect, huh?” he said sardonically, “I think I am treating you with respect.”

  Lauren shook her head insistently. Just because he was now negotiating from a stronger position was no reason to abandon hers altogether.

  “You are doing no such thing,” she said in a much more even tone, “And I would appreciate it if you would start.”

  A slow smile crept across his face as he looked into her eyes and held her gaze.

  “Well, sweetheart, if you only knew what I wanted to be doing right now, and the restraint I'm showing because of the respect I have for you, you'd be impressed with the levels of both my respect and my willpower.”

  Lauren was beginning to take particular note of the closeness of the trailer and the bareness of his skin. The combination of these two factors, when added to her already-raised ire, was causing the blood to pump through her veins hot and fast.

  She stepped up to him, her cheeks flushed with both challenge and arousal. She was having a hard time separating the two, honestly, at this point.

  “Is that supposed to be some sort of threat?” she said in a low, steely voice.

  He abandoned his casual pose leaning against the counter to take a step towards her, as well, putting them mere millimeters apart.

  “Not a threat,” he murmured, “Just a fact.”

  Lauren felt the complicated mix of anger and arousal that was flooding her system surge even further, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh, please,” she said with iron control, “if you've been treating me with kid gloves, take them off. I can handle whatever you dish out.”

  Ben responded in a rasping growl, “I don't think so.”

  Lauren smiled at him, feeling the upper hand returning, “I know so.”

  Their intensity of connection was so overwhelming at that moment that Lauren found herself having a hard time holding on to consciousness.

  “You sure about that?” he asked, and all of his insolence was gone. It was a sincere question.

  “Yes,” she half-whispered, half-groaned.

  Before the word had even fully passed her lips, Ben had crushed his mouth against hers and was kissing her with desperation, as if he had feared that he would never get another chance.

  The urgency that was communicated between them ripped a cry from Lauren's throat, and she dug her fingernails into his back. Lauren felt like she could barely breathe, while at the same time, she felt more alive, more suffused with life-giving air, than she had ever felt at any time that she could remember.

  She couldn't believe that this kind of passion, this kind of reckless abandon, existed within her. She was controlled, many people had accused her of being cold. But in truth, she was just a type A, highly rational, highly organized, highly on-top-of-things individual.

  Except when she was around Ben.

  Then, it seemed, all bets were off.

  There was an allegory, one that had always bothered Lauren, called The Lady or the Tiger. She didn't remember all of the details now, but she did recall that it involved a man having to choose between two doors – beyond one of which lay a beautiful maiden and beyond the other lay a ravenous tiger. Choose correctly, and you get to live happily ever after. Choose incorrectly, and you don't even get to live, let alone happily or ever after.

  The story had always infuriated Lauren, because there was no logic to making a choice like that. No control, and no hope of getting any. If you were in that arena, thrust into that hellish version of Let's Make a Deal, then the outcome of the situation was left entirely up to the whim of fate.

  Yeah. For obvious reasons, the thought of that made Lauren's skin crawl.

  But it had bothered her on a deeper, more unconscious level, as well. She felt like the author's very positioning of the two factions as opposite – the lovely maiden vs. the wild tiger – was making a statement about what it was to be ladylike, about the nature of femininity.

  If you're the lady, he seemed to be saying, then you're NOT the tiger. Ladylike reticence cannot co-exist with tiger-like wild abandon.

  And although Lauren disagreed with that idea in principal, she had never been in a position to disprove it personally. She had never experienced passion so powerful, so all-consuming, that she abandoned the idea of being in control, or caring about what others would think of her, or considering what the consequences of her actions would be.

  Consequences be damned, Lauren thought. Right now, I'm not the lady. Right now, I'm the tiger, and I'm going to surrender myself to Ben in every way that these previously unknown animalistic impulses are urging me to!

  She threw her arms around his neck and hopped off of her feet, wrapping her long legs around his waist as far as her tight, thigh-length sheath would let her.

  Ben slid his strong hands down from where they had been holding her waist and cupped her ass, h
olding her up off the ground as they kissed passionately, their tongues intertwining as if in battle, their lips pushing against each other urgently, their passion building to a fever pitch.

  As they kissed, Ben carried her to the counter and set her down on it, never breaking his mouth from hers.

  Lauren ran her hands up and down his back, not bothering to be gentle or to let her fingers slide over the surface of his skin with a smoothly light touch. No. She wanted him, and she was going to take what she wanted, with tiger-like ferocity.

  Ben was progressing with the same turbulent frenzy, his hands running over her body with a savage and unrestrained fervor. Whether he was following her lead or whether he was merely having a parallel experience, Lauren didn't much care. All she knew was that the feral intensity with which he was grasping her, the untamed ardor with which his hands and mouth roamed over her, was bringing the passion building inside her to new heights.

  Ben roughly pushed her skirt higher on her thighs, disregarding the fact that it was an unforgiving fabric. In a distant corner of her brain, Lauren heard the skirt rip, but rather than making her worry about how she would explain the situation to Barbara and Marlene later, it only sent an electric jolt of passion through her body which was so intense that it made her positively lightheaded.

  Lauren wrapped her legs even tighter around Ben's waist, bringing her feet up and digging her heels into the small of his back to gain greater leverage. She knew that now both her fingernails and her sharp heels were digging into his skin, possibly uncomfortably, which would ordinarily be something that she would worry about, stop to check on the well-being of her partner, make sure that nothing she was doing was causing him any discomfort.

  This was not 'normally.'

  Right now, Lauren was completely engrossed in what she was feeling. She was out to take her own pleasure. It was an erotic thrill that she had never experienced before, and it definitely seemed to be having the ironic but beneficial side effect of turning Ben on even more.

  Ben moved his hands to her thighs, sliding them upwards forcefully, pushing her skirt all the way up to her waist. Now the only thing separating Ben's body from her sensitive, hot folds was a tiny slip of garment, built of the flimsiest lace and silk.