“That’s it,” I encourage her as I pound into her pussy harder. “Let yourself go, Milly.”
She whines and moans until at last, a scream followed by the trembling of her body. She starts to sag but I quickly hold her up because I’m not quite there yet.
“Stay with me,” I growl as I slam into her over and over, pushing her body into the wall until at last, my own body tenses and my cock explodes deep inside of her.
“Stay with me,” I whisper, leaning forward to kiss her exposed shoulder. I rest my forehead against her back, waiting for my heartbeat to return to normal but it doesn’t. It’s always thundering wildly in my chest because I’m scared shitless that the woman I love will leave and never come back. “Marry me.”
Milly
Ben’s proposal stuns me into silence. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands, of things I want to say to him but I’m speechless. Behind me, he pulls out and I’m left with a strange empty feeling. It’s more than just the physical loss; the emptiness is soul-deep.
Slowly, I turn to face Ben. He’s halfway to the kitchen and when he makes it to the counter and casts his gaze on me, I can see the disappointment in his eyes.
“Ben…” my voice trails off because I don’t really know what to say. I’m not surprised; in Paris, he gifted me an antique gold watch to symbolize his commitment. Since we returned, I’ve been expecting a proposal. But the reality is that we’ve only been together for six months. It’s too soon to get married, right?
“It’s okay, Milly,” he says, grabbing a towel. “Forget about it.”
He shuffles slowly back toward me and hands me the towel. His refusal to look me in the eye is an unmistakable sign I’ve messed things up.
My heart drops as I take the towel from him. And then he walks away.
After cleaning up, I find Ben in the bedroom, brooding. He’s sitting on the bed hunched over his laptop. Even with a scowl, the man is handsome. Pure and simple. And the thick black glasses he’s wearing? They give him a distinguished look that makes me eager for round two.
But we need to have a very important conversation and I cannot be distracted by his Clark Kent meets mountain man good looks.
“Can we just skip the concert?” My voice is soft, and I stand in the doorway of the bedroom, waiting for him to invite me inside.
Ben looks up and his frown deepens. “What? You’ve been moaning about seeing Ed Sheeran for ages.”
“I know,” I say with a sigh. “But we really need to talk, don’t you think?”
“Yes, but it can wait until after the concert.”
I take a cautious step forward. “No, it can’t. Sure, we could sweep this issue under the rug temporarily, but I’d rather talk now.”
He closes the laptop and sets it on the bedside table next to “his” side of the bed. Then he pats the empty space beside him. I climb onto the bed and sit facing him, waiting for him to tell me what prompted him to propose spontaneously.
“That’s not how I planned on proposing, not in a million years. I totally fucked that up, but I can’t imagine being here without you. You’re a part of my life now and I don’t want to live without you in it.”
My heart hammers inside my chest and my belly clenches. His words are perfect, what every woman would want to hear. “Ben, there’s so much we don’t know about each other. Why is there a rush?”
“Because you’re bloody leaving!” He sits up straighter, reaches out for me and pins me to his chest. “Because we’ve got a lifetime to learn everything so why wait?”
His points are completely valid. Sooner than I’d like, I have to leave London and return to the States. But I can’t help but think some time apart might do us some good.
“I’ve never even met your parents, Ben!”
Beneath me, his entire body tenses and his arms slip away. I sit up and notice that all of the color has drained from Ben’s face and he looks uncomfortable.
“Milly, there’s something I need to tell you about my parents.”
A dozen different scenarios pop into my mind. Oh god, what if they’re both dead? What if he has a strained relationship with them?
“You can tell me anything. I hope you know that.”
“My father is the Earl of Strafford.”
That is totally unexpected! “So, I’m like dating royalty? Are you related to the Royal Family?” A million questions are on the tip of my tongue, but Ben holds up a hand to silence them all.
“I’m not even close to being royalty and no, not related to the Royal Family. The title has been in my family for generations. I’m sure if you really want to know, my father will tell you, but the story is quite boring.”
“Your accent changed!” I practically shout. “You sound more…posh!”
His hand covers his mouth. “Bugger!” He grunts and rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t really matter because I won’t inherit the title. It belongs to my brother.”
My delight in this news subsides because this is actually a huge secret Ben has kept from me for months.
“Is there anything else you’re keeping from me, your highness?” My voice is snotty even though I tried to keep it light.
Ben rolls his eyes. “No, and I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to get weird. It’s just a stupid title.”
“A stupid title that comes with privileges?”
The last few months flash in my memory. My wanderlust clouded my vision. I offered to share the costs of these trips, but Ben always insisted on paying for things. Stupidly, I never questioned him about money because he’s a successful businessman.
“Yes, Milly, there are loads of privileges. And money. But I don’t make it a habit of throwing around my family title to get my way.”
“Except with me? You used it to get tickets to Ed Sheeran and to whisk me away to Paris and Scotland.”
“Yes!” He bolts up from the bed and starts pacing the room. “I’ll do anything to keep you here with me, Milly. If that means spoiling you and making all of your dreams come true, then I’ll spend every cent of my family’s money. I’m fucking desperate.”
“You just need to be honest with me.”
He runs his hands through his dark hair and tugs at the strands. “Honesty has burned me in the past. As much as I want you to stay with me forever, I also have to protect myself too.”
My eyes narrow. “So, you don’t trust me?”
“When people find out about the money and the family title, they change. I trust you, Milly, but I didn’t want to be disappointed.”
“That’s really unfair.”
“I’m sorry,” he offers but his words sound hollow.
I shift on the bed and swing my legs over the edge before standing up. “There’s one dream that money can’t buy.”
“What’s that?”
“Unconditional love.”
Ben
Things with Milly are completely fucked. Right after our argument, she booked her return flight to the States. Weeks in advance.
“This is so unfair,” I tell her as she packs her suitcases. “You haven’t even given me the chance to make things right between us.”
She stops, her chestnut brown locks swinging, and purses her lips. “And you never gave me the chance to accept you for who you really are!”
“Stop being so bloody stubborn!” I roar, reaching for the suitcase closest to me. I flip it open and start taking out the clothes she just spent hours neatly folding. “Just give me a fucking chance!”
Milly stomps her way to me and snatches the clothing from my hands and shoves them back into the suitcase. “You had all the chances in the world!”
All I want to do is pick her up, hold her tight and kiss some sense into her. But being a barbarian never solved anything.
“Fine, Milly. Go on and run away.” I brush past her and leave the bedroom. “Coward.”
I grab my jacket off the back of a chair and leave the flat. I have absolutely no idea where I’m headed but there’s
no point in staying only to keep arguing with her. And I couldn’t keep watching her pack. A hand reflexively tugs at my shirt, right above my heart. She might have packed it with her clothes and knickers because it belongs to her now, whether she wants it or not.
My feet keep going as I wander aimlessly through my neighborhood. I feel restless because there’s only one place I want to be – with her. Why is it so hard for her to see that we belong together? Fate brought us together the moment she walked into my pub.
My mobile rings, distracting me from my thoughts, and I reach for it in my pocket, hopeful Milly is calling. But it’s my stupid brother Alistair, the one who’ll inherit the bloody title.
“Hello Al,” I answer coolly.
“Benjamin,” he replies tersely. “Just calling to see if you’re coming up for mum and dad’s anniversary party this weekend.”
“Shit! I completely forgot about that,” I admit. “Sorry, Al. Of course, I’ll be there.”
“Excellent. And can I finally get your approval on expanding the estate?”
I grit my teeth. “Absolutely not.” Alistair and I inherited our family’s estate, Waterstone Hall, from our grandparents but any improvements or expansions need approval from both of us. The land Alistair wants to purchase would expand the lodge park on the estate, but it would also mean demolishing the neighboring property.
“Ben, this is for the best. I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn.”
“Because it means George will lose his home.”
“Yes, and he can buy another one. A much, much bigger one.”
“George has worked for our family for years. He doesn’t deserve what you’re proposing.”
Alistair scoffs. “God, you’re such a bore. We’ll discuss it this weekend.”
The call ends just as abruptly as it began but that’s typical Alistair. He’s all business, very little pleasure. When he calls, there’s a reason and he gets straight to the point. He doesn’t do idle chit-chat.
But now I have a plan.
I rush back to the apartment and find Milly struggling to close a suitcase only to have it burst back open, knocking her on her arse.
“Need help?” I offer.
“No,” she pouts. “It’s all of these damn clothes you bought me.”
Regretfully, the hope I felt when I walked through the door is gone. Instead, I’m angry. “Well then don’t take them with you. I’ll just donate them all to the charity shop ‘round the corner.”
I walk forward and grab an armful of clothes. “Wait,” Milly says. She tugs something from the pile, and I turn slightly to see her holding a dark blue trench coat. “Not this one. I really do love this one.”
I roll my eyes and let the clothes drop to the floor. “This is so stupid Milly. I hate fighting with you even more than I hate seeing you get ready to leave.”
She fidgets with the coat in her hand. Her eyes are downcast and her bottom lip juts out in a pout I want to kiss away. “I hate fighting too but it still doesn’t change the fact you hid a huge part of yourself from me for months!”
“I’m sorry Milly. Truly, I am.” Suddenly, I remember the reason why I rushed back to the flat. “How do you feel about meeting my parents this weekend?”
I explain all about the anniversary party and how I forgot until Alistair reminded me. When I finish, I’m not sure if she’s even angrier or if this is the start to mending our relationship.
“Are you sure about this,” she asks with narrowed eyes.
“Absolutely. Why wouldn’t I want you to meet them?”
The pout is back, and she shrugs. “I don’t know.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t be so daft! They’re going to love you.” I take a step over the pile of clothes and reach for her hand. “Now, is it alright if I kiss you?”
Her lips tremble as she tries to hide her smile, but she fails. I tug her closer and slide my arms around her. This is where she belongs, in my arms. I lower my head and brush my lips against hers softly. She tastes exactly how she did almost six months ago when we shared our first kiss in the hallway just outside the guest bedroom. Absolutely perfect.
Milly
Nearly five hours after leaving London, Ben and I arrive on the outskirts of Malton, where his family lives. The car ride was quiet because even though Ben apologized, things still feel awkward between us. Like, for example, when he announced that we were driving north. In his ginormous and luxurious Range Rover I didn’t even know he owned! His response to my flash of anger was to kiss the scowl off my face.
Ben drives us down a wooded gravel path that opens up to a campground. Suddenly, I feel very confused.
“This is where your family lives,” I ask, surveying the half-dozen small cabins that surround the lake.
“Sort of,” he says as he navigates his way around the lake before parking in front of one of the homes. “This lodge park is a part of my family’s estate.”
I blink several times, trying to wrap my head around the word estate.
Ben turns the car off, sits back and looks at me. “This is not a big deal, Milly. I grew up here, so this is nothing more than home to me.”
I nod and assure him that I will do my best to think of it in the same way.
The cabin we’re staying in has an open concept living area that is bright and airy from the abundance of windows with impeccable views of the lake.
“We’re not expected up at the main house until tomorrow morning, so we’ll just relax tonight,” Ben says as he brings in the last of the bags.
My curiosity is bursting at the seams and I’m dying to ask him to take me there now, but I don’t want to ruin the truce between us.
“You want to see the main house now, don’t you?”
I squeal with excitement. “Just a little peek.”
“Put on a jacket. Let’s go for a walk.”
The park grounds are magnificent. Manicured lawns are surrounded by acres and acres of forest and there is even more than one lake on the property. And then finally, just when I feel like we’ve been walking forever, I get my first glimpse of the main house. It’s an impressive stone structure with a dome over the entrance that towers over the rest of the building. It’s breathtaking and the moment it comes into view, I stop.
“Don’t let this place fool you, the upkeep is expensive,” Ben tells me. “My parents have spent a fortune renovating it. They run daily tours now and rent it out for weddings.”
“You sound almost bitter.”
A tight smile forms on Ben’s lips. “Alistair and I own the estate together. My grandfather passed his stupid title onto my father but gave my brother and I the house.”
“Why?”
“Because my father is an absolute shit businessman.” He runs a hand down his face and sighs. “Alistair and I have to approve every decision related to Waterstone Hall. The renovations were necessary but now, he wants to expand.”
“And you don’t want any of this?” I make a sweeping motion with my arm and watch as Ben’s eyes move across the view.
He shakes his head. “I never wanted to own Waterstone Hall. The land, the house, the title…I didn’t ask for any of it.”
“So why doesn’t Alistair just buy you out?”
I laugh at the irony because even though my father is a terrible businessman, Alistair is even worse. “He doesn’t have the money.”
“So, if the title and the estate aren’t important to you, what is?”
“You,” he says softly as he turns to face me. His large hands circle my waist and he pulls me close. “I have a vision of marrying you in those lovely gardens my mother spent years planning. I have a vision of you running down this gravel path toward me in your pretty white dress and a smile on your lips.”
One of Ben’s hands sweeps across my belly. “I have a vision of our children playing in the park. But none of that matters if I don’t have you.”
Hot tears stream down my cheeks. Ben reaches up to brush them away with
the pad of his thumb. Ben’s vision is so clear and my heart thunders in my chest as if to say, “YES! I want that too!” My brain just isn’t on board yet.
Ben’s hand drops away and the disappointment is written all over his face.
“Can we just not talk about marriage for the next few weeks?” I plead.
“Sure, whatever you want.” He starts walking back toward the house and after a minute of standing there, watching him, I follow.
Love is still such a foreign concept to me. Growing up, I watched my grandparents and the example they set. The way my grandfather lovingly stroked my grandmother’s cheek while she was in recovery after surgery or the silly way they would dance around the kitchen. I wanted a relationship like theirs for myself, but no man measured up. At least, not until Ben.
And that kind of love – unconditional love – is terrifying.
But losing Ben is even more frightening.
I hurry to catch up to him and when I’m finally beside him, I loop my arm through his. For the last six months, he’s kept me anchored when I’ve felt adrift. He’s been my travel companion, exploring new and old with me but he’s also given me the freedom to spread my wings. When I’m off on my own, I can’t wait to hurry back home and share everything with him.
“What are we going to do for dinner,” I ask quietly.
Ben reaches across his body and covers my hand with his. “I thought I’d take you into town. There’s a pub here that does a great Shepard’s pie.”
“But I don’t like Shepard’s pie,” I whine. Ben has made me try everything at least once but the list of English foods I don’t like is fairly short. Turns out, I don’t like anything the Brits call “pudding” in addition to tea and Shepard’s pie.
“Well, I s’pose they also have a decent fish ‘n’ chips.”
I hum appreciatively because I’ve developed quite an affinity for the deep-fried delicacy. “Sounds perfect.”
The truce is back on but how long will it last?
True North: A Flirt Club Duet Page 5