A Good Kind of Trouble (A Trouble in Twin Rivers Novel Book 1) (37 page)

Her body stiffened and she fought the impulse to lean into him. God, she'd missed him. Why couldn't they both be on the same page at the same time? She closed her eyes and longed for all the promise Ben represented—safety, acceptance, love.
 

"I bet that can be difficult," he said.
 

Ben wrapped his arms around her, ignoring her rigid stance. She remained stiff, drawing some comfort from the closeness and absorbing his words. His fingers stroked her hair and she felt her heart breaking. Damn it, she was going to miss him when she had to leave Twin Rivers. Maybe she should just throw caution to the wind and enjoy him until the inevitable day when she had to leave.
 

That was a terrible and risky idea, she knew. Too much time around Ben and she'd be so deep in love.
 

"Yes, it can be difficult," she said, as it dawned on her that she was too late.

His arms tightened around her, though she had made no move to leave his embrace.
 

"This does explain some things," he said, his voice low and close to her ear.

"Like what?" She was thoroughly distracted by the way he was stroking her arm.
 

"You, always rushing in, fearless. You must get that from your mother," he said.
 

"Actually, other than the hair and eye color, we're not that much alike. She's the fearless one. I'm much more cautious."
 

Ben laughed, then he kissed the top of her head and her heart fluttered.
 

"I don't see what's so funny," she said.
 

"Let's see. In the past few weeks, I've seen you chased on foot and in a car, watched you evade stalkers and sneak around a cabin in the middle of the night, all in the name of getting a story," he said. "And that's just the mischief you've been up to in my view. God knows what you're doing when I'm not looking. That's just not normal. But maybe it is in your family."
 

She felt the laughter bubble up in her chest. "It was unusual for me. But my mom is used to a different level of excitement on the job."
 

"And you're nothing like her?" She could hear the smile in his voice.
 

"Nope, not at all."
 

"Hmmm," he said. "Well, I agree that you are one of a kind."
 

She shivered in the warm room and realized that she had relaxed into his embrace. Ben loosened his hold and leaned back, still holding her. He studied her and Lindsey squirmed under his intense gaze. God, she wanted him so much it scared her. Which made her want to run. It was so dangerous to be this close to him. The heat from his body penetrated her clothes, warming her everywhere their bodies touched. Her hand skimmed the hard muscles of his back and she marveled at the contours beneath her fingers.

The sun had set behind the neighboring buildings and the light in the office had softened. She hoped it was dim enough to hide the flush in her face. The air upstairs was warm, but the heat she felt wasn't related to the weather.
 

Distance and small talk. That's what she needed. Otherwise, she'd be throwing herself at Ben. And odds were fairly good that he'd reject her—again. She pushed away from Ben’s embrace and walked a few feet to the window.
 

"Maybe I should go, let you get back to work. Thanks for giving me the tour. It's a nice office," she said, realizing that she was rambling.
 

Ben followed her, standing behind her.
 

"What's really going on, Lindsey?" His voice, so close, made her heart skip. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
 

"Nothing, really," she said.
 

He put a hand on her shoulder and drew her closer. She stared into his eyes and felt herself falling. "You're not telling me everything."
 

His voice was low, but she heard the hurt there. It was a hurt she knew too well, a pain that bubbled up now and nearly choked her.

"I'm moving," she said, so suddenly that the sound of her voice alarmed her. She hadn't meant to say anything. She hadn't even voiced the option out loud. "I'm taking a job in Los Angeles. At the
Press-Herald
."
 

Ben's jaw tensed and he gave her a short nod. "That's a big move. Is this a promotion of sorts?"

Lindsey's throat was nearly closed as she struggled against the breakdown that threatened. "Yes, of course,” she said, nearly choking on the lie.
 

Then she sighed and shook her head. "No. It's not." Her eyes lowered to the worn carpet under her feet. "My dad is taking pity on me and getting me a job."
 

"You haven't lost your job yet," Ben said, lifting her chin gently.
 

"It's just a matter of time. I don't have the confidence of my editor, or his bosses. I'm out."
 

The tears stung her eyes, the pain at admitting her failure too much to bear. She stepped forward and Ben’s arms closed around her, protective and comforting. She buried her face in his chest.

"It's not over yet. What if you get that bond story through? It's an important story. Not only do the citizens here need to know what they're paying for and the price, but other cities who do business with EFB need to know what's going on."
 

She nodded, the smooth cotton of his shirt rubbing against her cheek. Yes, that was all true. She had told herself that, told Sam that, but it didn't change the course she was on.
 

"If I leave before I get fired, then I'm leaving on my terms, with a shred of my reputation intact."
 

Ben exhaled, his breath brushing the top of her head. "Did you talk to Kath about this?"
 

Lindsey shook her head. "You're the only one I've told."
 

She hadn't even told her father that she would take the job, but as she tossed and turned last night, she had figured that she could convince Sam to keep her on until the end of the year.
 

"When will you go?" he asked.
 

"I'm not sure. Maybe a few months. I just don't see another option."
 

She saw him swallow and became even more aware that they were very much alone in the small room. She had to get out of there before things went too far. Before there was a repeat of the last few times they were alone together. She should just leave. He wasn’t going to say what she wanted to hear.

There was nothing but a couple of thin layers of fabric separating them and her body ached with that knowledge. She leaned back, trying to break contact before she lost all control. She licked her lips and saw his expression harden.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly and Lindsey felt the tears sting her eyes again. It wasn’t going to work out. She knew it and it was breaking her heart.
 

She blinked and swallowed, moving away, but he pulled her back quickly.
 

"Ben, I can't talk about this right now—"
 

Her words were cut off by his kiss. The sudden contact caught her off guard, her head spinning at Ben's touch. She reached up and slid her hand behind his head, her fingers twining through the soft strands of his hair. She pulled him even closer, deepening the kiss.
 

This
. This was what she needed. To forget everything else, just feel. Feel Ben's arms tightening around her, feel the grip of his hand at her waist, the pounding of her heart. Or was it his? She could no longer tell, they were too close, too in sync.
 

He broke off the kiss and she realized she was backed up against his desk, one hand behind her, as Ben leaned in.

"Don't go," he said, his eyes looking deep into hers.
 

"I—" She was at a loss. "I don't want to, but—"
 

He kissed her again and she heard herself groan with desire. How could he do this to her? She had just been on the verge of bursting into tears a few minutes ago, but now... Now she wanted to tear this man's clothes off. Again.

This was a bad idea. She leaned back, both of her hands flat on the wooden surface.
 

"We shouldn't be doing this," she said, barely able to force enough breath to form the words.
 

She watched his eyes sweep over her like he was really seeing her. The naked desire in his eyes sent a shiver up her spine in the stuffy room. Then he gave her a slow smile and she thought her underwear might just spontaneously combust.

"You haven't let me finish making my case," he said.
 

Ben put a hand on the desk and leaned in, not touching her. He gave her a small grin and reached out, touching the collar of her shirt, tracing his finger down to the first button, barely skimming her skin. Lindsey drew in a breath and tried to steady herself.
 

"Ben," she said, reaching up to put a hand on his chest, unsure if she was trying to stop him or pull him closer.
 

He stroked her arm, sending shivers up her spine. She could see the slight stubble on his cheeks and without a thought, reached up to feel the roughness against her fingers. His eyes narrowed and she felt his body tense at her touch. The thought that she held that power over him—over all six-foot-two inches of him—it excited her beyond measure.
 

She raised her chin as Ben closed the remaining few inches, his lips meeting hers and claiming her. Her eyes closed and she pulled him to her, desperate for more. It had only been a week, but it had been a bad, lonely week. All she had wanted was to run to him. Tell him she was sorry, tell him they could work this out. She missed him. Wanted him. Needed him.
 

"God, Lindsey," he rasped, kissing her jaw to her neck, to that spot that made her knees buckle.
 

"Yes," she managed to hiss as his warm lips slid over her skin, finding that nerve that sent her over the edge.
 

"I can't help myself around you." His voice was barely a whisper, his entire body coiled with tension.
 

The heat between their bodies was more than she could bear. She tugged at his tie, then feverishly worked the buttons on his shirt, sliding her hand over his hot skin as the shirt came loose. She felt his hand at her back, pulling her closer, and then she felt him slide her skirt up her thighs, his touch less gentle now, more urgent.
 

She kissed his bare chest as her fingers worked at his belt, the taste fueling her passion for him. He groaned and pulled her hips to the edge of the desk, running his hands up her legs, lifting them until he was between her legs, pressing against her. The belt gave way and she pushed at his pants. She sucked in a breath as her hand brushed his hardness beneath the thin fabric of his boxers.
 

Ben's hands shook as he pushed her skirt all the way up, his fingers finding her heat, stroking her through the thin lace of her panties, then pushing the fabric aside, stroking deeper.
 

"Ben, please," she whispered, her head dropping back as she sank into the sensation of his lips on her neck and his fingers buried inside of her. The sensation sent her body on fire.
 

What was happening? Why couldn't she keep some sort of control around him? As soon as she'd seen him, she wanted him. Right now. Wanted him inside her, wanted to feel him, and forget everything else in her life. Forget work, forget family pressure. Forget her failures. Just
feel
.
 

He pulled away and her mind cleared, confused by the sudden absence of his touch.
 

"Stay right there," he said, kissing her again before pulling away and grabbing a duffel bag from the floor by the coat rack. "And pray that there's a condom in here."
 

She smiled and steadied herself on the desk. Her shirt was half pulled off, her skirt bunched around her waist. What the hell was she doing?
 

He returned, a slow grin growing on his face as he took in her disheveled appearance.
 

"My god, that is just the prettiest sight I've ever seen," he said, his voice nearly a growl. "You, nearly undone. I want to see you lose control, sweetheart."
 

She gasped at his words, at how they had as much power over her as his touch. He put the foil packet on the desk and studied her face. All feelings of self-consciousness disappeared under his gaze and she reached up and pushed the unbuttoned dress shirt off his shoulders.
 

"Oh, God, Ben. What are we doing?" she asked, grabbing his shoulders and pulling herself up to kiss his bare chest.
 

"We're breaking in my new office," he whispered, sliding her shirt down her shoulders, pinning her arms behind her. She was resting on her elbows now, her legs wrapped around his hips. His lips burned a path down her neck, to the swell of her breast. His teeth nipped at the peaks beneath the pink lace bra and her body responded with a jolt. His hands roved down her body, his fingers tugging at the scrap of lace that was separating them and she felt the fabric give way with a tearing sound.
 

"Sorry about that," he whispered in her ear.
 

"Don't stop," she said, reaching for him, wanting to feel him, touch him, make him feel what she felt. The dizzying, intense heights that his touch induced. As her fingers encircled him, she heard his groan. He leaned forward, his forehead against hers.
 

"Sweet lord, Lindsey."
 

She stroked him, enjoying the weight of him in her hand and the nearly anguished expression on his face as she caressed the soft skin. His body tensed as she squeezed him, and he pulled away, reaching for the condom. She took it from him and unrolled it onto his shaft, marveling at how much her touch affected him.
 

"I can't stand this, Lindsey. I need you now," he gasped, pulling her to the edge of the desk and sinking into her.