by Casey Hagen
That short facial hair of his dragged along the sensitive skin of her throat.
Later.
She’d figure out a time and tell him later.
She’d take tonight and be sure that they were compatible in every way. If they were, she would find a way to tell him.
Otherwise, what would be the point of going there?
At least that’s what she told herself.
She snagged the front of his t-shirt and yanked him right up against her. Because she wanted control over their direction or to bury unwelcome thoughts, she didn’t know.
It didn’t matter.
“Definitely lights. I want to be able to see you. We can compromise on dimmed lights. I’ll save the examination under the fluorescents for next time. Point me in the direction of a bed.”
“Through there,” he said, hitching his thumb in the direction of the hallway off to the right.
She took his hand and pulled him along, backing her way down toward the door at the end. A small night-light plugged into an outlet gave just enough of a glow to see Ben’s lips twitch.
“I feel like I might have totally lost control here,” he said.
She stopped right before the door. She nodded her head toward the door. “Is this it?”
“Yep.”
She kicked the door open with her foot. “Good.”
They’d just stepped inside when Ben bent down, cupped her ass, which hello, felt awesome through her jeans, and lifted her clean off the floor. She wasn’t sure what it was about that, but she’d never had someone just pick her up and have their way with her.
She could get used to this.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and smiled down at him.
“I’ve had fun with you leading the way and all, but I think I’ll take it from here,” Ben said with absolutely no sign that holding up her weight was taxing his system at all.
Not that she was a weakling or anything, but fifty pounds made her eyes bulge a little.
And she was almost three times that.
“I’m in your bedroom, and we haven’t even had a proper date from start to finish yet.”
“I know, and I thank you for it because after that night on the beach, I need this.” He scraped his thumb over the seam of her jeans between her legs.
He might as well have licked her because the sensation had the same effect.
“You make it sound like I’m curing a medical condition,” she said breathlessly, fighting the urge to groan.
He strode across the room. “Lady, every time I think about you, I get wood. By now, yeah, it’s a medical condition,” he said, then tossed her onto his bed with no grace, no apologies.
He reached back for the collar of his shirt and yanked the material over his head. “You’re overdressed,” he said with a pointed look.
“You’re not going to be all hero-esque and undress me? I mean, if you do it right, I shouldn’t even know it’s happening.”
He flicked the button of his jeans. When he did, they slid lower on his hips, exposing a line of dark hair. For the life of her, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. “You want help? I’ll help you.” He grasped her ankles and flipped her.
He really freaking flipped her.
The breath whooshed out of her lungs and sucked back in on a sharp intake of breath when he smacked her ass.
Hard.
She felt his weight on her back; his arms came over her, his fingers interlocking with hers.
“I’m not hero material.” He bit her shoulder and soothed the sting with his hot tongue. “You’re going to feel me peel every last scrap of fabric from your flawless skin.”
Oh, he was hero material all right. Just a whole different kind of hero. “Ben?”
“Yeah?” he said against her neck.
He bit the skin there, sending a shock through her. “Shut up and get me naked already.”
His only answer was a rough growl in her ear before he shifted his weight to his left side and that right hand of his slid right between her stomach and the mattress, going right to the button of her jeans as if they’d done this dance for a lifetime.
Her snap popped, he unzipped her, and his hand slid inside her jeans, her underwear, and straight between her thighs.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He parted her, and the damn sensation of his rough fingers gliding over her, in her, set her on fire. With each glide of his fingers over her, he increased the pressure until a frenzy took over. She ground her hips against his hand, desperate for release.
If he had something to prove about being virile, about having the ability to keep up with her, consume her even, he’d brought his A-game the minute he popped her jeans.
Clever banter died on her lips.
Her eyes rolled back in her head. She’d believed the eye thing to be myth, until now.
His masculine, woodsy scent assaulted her senses as she buried her face in his sheets.
“Please,” she begged. “Don’t stop.”
“Not stopping,” he growled against her ear. “You’ve got something I want, and I’m not stopping until I get it.”
His demanding words drove her over the edge. Sharp pleasure built and crested, leaving her pounding her fist against the mattress, crying out, writhing against his hand as warmth spread through her, leaving her wet, exhausted, and exhilarated all at once.
His weight disappeared, but before she could look to see where he went, he had begun dragging her jeans down her legs.
Oh, thank God!
She needed to know if he felt as good inside her as he did when he used his tongue and his hand. She’d never had much hope in that respect. She’d never been able to orgasm through regular sex. She desperately wanted to, and if there was a man up to the task, it was Ben.
He whisked away her underwear next. His tongue hit the back of her knee, and then dragged ever so slowly up to her ass where he sank his teeth into the flesh.
She swore she just got wetter.
He parted her thighs but kept her on her stomach. She heard a foil packet tearing, and within seconds, he pressed the head of his cock against her.
With his hands cupping her waist, he pulled her body toward him as he pressed into her. She arched up under the unfamiliar stretching.
“Oh,” she breathed.
Buried deep, he stopped. She concentrated on getting the air in and out of her lungs, but for the love of God, she needed him to thrust.
She craved it.
“God, I wish you could see you the way I see you right now.” He pushed her shirt up and traced his finger down her spine, dipping it right between her cheeks.
“Ben?”
“Hmmm,” he murmured.
“You didn’t get me naked.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Are you going to?”
His big hand slid to the back of her neck. He turned her a bit, exposing the side of her face on the mattress. There was nothing sexier than being trapped there, with him holding her to the mattress, wondering what he would do to her next.
How he would pleasure her.
She curled her fists into his comforter.
“How committed are you to this shirt?” he asked, tracing a finger over her spine.
“It’s just a shirt,” she said, a bit breathless from the riot inside her.
“Good,” he muttered. He let go of her neck, her body jerked, fabric tore, and she laughed, freer than she had ever been before.
He flicked her bra, then wrapped his arm around her and raised her up, staying inside her the whole time as he settled back.
His hand reached for that tight bundle of nerves between her vibrating thighs as he began to slowly thrust in and out, in and out.
His other hand pulled the dangling bra from her breasts, the straps dragging down her arms.
Good God, he held her there, straddling him in a reverse cowgirl position, but with him on his knees behind her, his right hand circling faste
r and faster, his left teasing and tormenting her tight nipples as they faced a wall of windows overlooking the ocean.
Moonlight danced on the water as waves kicked up with the incoming storm. It thundered overhead, pounding with her heart.
She couldn’t help but grip his thick forearm and hold on as he worked her into a frenzy, everything inside her stretching impossibly tight. He growled low in her ear, his harsh breathing only fueling her fevered blood as he increased his pace, going deeper.
“Ben,” she whimpered.
He slid her hair away from her neck to the opposite side and dragged his tongue over her shoulder. “Can you take more?”
“Yes,” she cried. “God, yes!”
He lifted her clean off of him, the drag as he slid out of her so jarring that she screamed.
He flipped her onto her back and froze. His hard, hair-dusted chest rose and fell with his labored breath; his gaze traced over her, and something about it bordered on a kind of worship she hadn’t seen in a man’s eyes before.
She fought to not squirm.
“I think first, a kiss,” he said quietly.
“I could go for a kiss.”
“Could you?” he curled his hands around her thighs and with one last long look, he buried his face in the heart of her.
He sucked that bundle of nerves between his lips, coaxing, teasing, and then licking until a burning heat robbed her of the ability to move.
Her nails bit into the sheets. Her skin slicked with sweat. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, that the assault was too much, just when she reached out to stop him, he took his mouth away from her, grasped her hips, and took her.
It took just one stroke to have her screaming into the darkness. The orgasm tore at her from the inside out.
Her eyes welled with tears at the wonder of the most all-consuming sensation dominating every single cell, leaving her boneless.
He held her hips, his half-lidded gaze locked on her, his teeth biting into his bottom lip, as he continued to pump into her wet heat over and over. His hands danced over her skin, his fingers gliding over her breasts, his thumb flicking over her nipples until they grew so tight, they ached.
She took his hand, brought his fingers to her mouth, and sucked his thumb between her lips.
On a sharp intake of breath, his eyelids slid closed. He held her there, pinned to the bed, deeper than he’d ever been, the muscle in his cheek jumping.
She guided his hand back to her breast, praying he understood just what she wanted since she had lost all ability to speak as she stared at him in awe.
He flicked over her, his thumb dampening her nipple, followed by cool air sending delicious shivers through her.
He flicked it again, and she bowed on the bed, sending him deeper inside her.
And again, the sensation reaching inside her making her muscles squeeze around him impossibly tight.
His warm mouth closed over that tight bud, and she gasped. Sinking her fingers into his thick hair she held him to her breast. His rough, hot tongue swirled around her in time with his thrusts in a rhythm punctuated by the sounds of their moans and sighs.
He became more insistent, his mouth searching for hers, swallowing her cries as pleasure to the point of pain flooded her, leaving them both soaked from her release, the sound of his hips thrusting against her now punctuated by their wet collide.
She’d die like this; she was sure of it as he pushed her body farther than it had ever gone.
Farther than she knew it could go.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he reared up, his eyes locked on hers as he let out a shout before collapsing back down, his arms propped on either side of her, keeping from crushing her with his full weight.
He rained kisses over her temples, her cheeks, and her mouth even as he sucked in gulps of air.
“That was one hell of a kiss, grandpa,” she gasped out as tears of relief rolled down the side of her face.
“Yeah, not bad for an old man.” He rolled to her side and propped his head up on his hand.
His finger danced over her skin, not arousing but soothing, and after what he’d just done to her, she needed it.
“I’ve never had someone make me feel like that,” she confessed.
“Yeah, me neither,” he said, tormenting her with the rough pads of his fingers along her flesh.
She wrinkled her nose and turned her face to his. “But I didn’t do anything.”
“You trusted me enough to let me lead. You trusted me enough to come here.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
For the second time that night, she questioned it. Because the one thing she hadn’t trusted him enough to do was to tell him the truth, that she had a son.
She didn’t trust him to give them a chance despite it.
The longer she didn’t trust him, the longer she could hold on to him.
“Can you stay tonight?”
She nodded. “For tonight.”
CHAPTER TEN
BEN WALKED ON AIR. THERE was no other way to put it. Cheesy, but with every step on the balls of his size-twelve feet, he bounced his way through the morning.
A long night of incredible sex after one hell of a drought did that to a man. And he had proven, three times, that he may technically be a grandfather, but he could give any teen a run for his money at any time.
Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
He took Abby to her car bright and early so she could get home and get ready for work. He made sure to get her phone number this time. There was no way in hell he was going to keep hoping to bump into her.
He also bent her over her hood and kissed her senseless.
He swatted her sweet ass, too, making her grin from ear to ear.
In the back part of his sex-soothed mind, way back, a tiny little voice reminded him he had some serious shit to deal with. He wasn’t ignoring it. Really, he wasn’t, but for the first time he’d been fully honest with someone about his past, and he’d lucked out because she didn’t condemn him for it. She’d accepted it.
Now he had someone he could open up to, and the weight of his past, of his mistakes, all of it seemed a whole lot more bearable than ever before.
This newfound relief couldn’t have come at a better time, because if he turned out to be a viable option for Sophie, he had some unpredictable waters ahead, and it helped to know that he had someone he respected to share that with. He bounded through the door to the construction trailer, marched over to Millie’s desk, and picked her right up off her feet in a big hug.
“Well, what the heck has gotten into you?” He set her back down, and she grabbed his cheeks. “Or should I say, who did you get into?”
“Adult sleepovers are the best,” he said with a grin.
“Don’t I know it,” she said, thwacking his shoulder, “but if you care about me at all, spare me the details.”
“Anything for you, Millie.”
She glared at him. “Are you going to be able to work like this?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get in the way of my work then. Close the door, and the blinds. Your smile is freaking me out.”
He laughed and did just as she asked. An hour later, he still hadn’t gotten anything done. Exhaustion had started to take its toll, and the coffee that usually fueled his day fell short.
He grabbed his keys and headed for the door. “I’m going to Pastry Masters for espresso; you want anything while I’m there?”
“Yes, please. I’ll take one of those cinnamon coffee rolls. Thank you.”
“No prob—” His phone vibrated in his pocket. His stomach rolled when he read the screen. It was the P.I.
“Ben Davenport speaking.”
“Hi, Ben, it’s Alan. I’m not going to pussyfoot around. We got the results. You’re a match. A damn good match.”
Ben didn’t recall moving his feet but he must have, because the next thing he knew he dropped onto the foldin
g chair next to the coffee station.
“Ben, you there?” Alan asked after a long silence.
“Yeah.” He cleared his thick throat. “I’m here.”
“The hospital is hoping to get you in within the next week if you can make time in your schedule.”
He caught Millie’s concerned face and gave her a distracted smile. “Whatever they need. Uh, whatever she needs. Set it up for as soon as you can.”
“Perfect. Chris will be happy to hear that.”
Ben’s heart threatened to beat right out of his chest. He put his hand there as if just the act could slow it down. “Alan, has he said if he wants to meet me yet or not?”
“Uh, no, he hasn’t. Look, it’s not that unusual. It may have nothing to do with you. He’s battling for his little girl. He’s taking it one issue at a time.”
He focused on the floor. “No, I understand. I was just curious.”
“I’m going to call Chris and the hospital and get things set up. I’ll call you shortly with the details.”
“Sounds good,” he said, his throat thick to the point of choking him.
“Thanks, Ben.”
“You’re welcome. Bye.”
He hung up and found Millie studying him. “You’re a match?”
“Yeah, a good one apparently.” He shook his head in an effort to shake off the buzzing in his ears.
“He’s not ready to meet you?” Millie asked, her voice softening.
“No, not yet.”
“You know, he has a lot he’s dealing with right now. He has to focus on her health, and who knows, he might have more than just one child, and a wife…it’s a lot to handle.”
“Yeah, that’s what Alan said.”
She patted his shoulder. “And the man is right. Look, you go on and get that espresso. When you come back, maybe he’ll have called to let us know what we need to do about your calendar.” She took his elbow and pulled him up. “Now, you go on. And you know what? Get me some of those custard donuts, too. Three of them, you got that?”
He knew what she was doing, and he loved her for it. He kissed her cheek and smiled. “I’ve got it. I’ll be back soon.”