Deep (21 page)

“Why do you want me to stay?” I asked, voice ever so slightly pleading. I didn’t even know what for. Fingers wrapped around my ankles, rubbing gently. “Because of the baby?”

“No,” he said. “Because of everything.”

“‘Everything’ being…”

His forehead went all wrinkly. “I don’t know. I meant what I said. I never wanted to be in a relationship. But then you never wanted to be having a baby so young. Guess we’re both just going to have to figure it out as we go along.”

“Um, no.” I shut my eyes tight. “Ben, we’ve been here before. You think you want something with me but then it’s all too much and you run. And it’s okay. It’s okay for you to just concentrate on your music and living free and easy and to not want to be in a permanent relationship. What’s not okay is for you to get my hopes up again, because honestly the comedown really sucks.”

And that was my professional psychology student opinion, right there.

“Liz.”

“No. I can’t do this again.”

He fell silent.

Too much emotion ran through me, my body at odds with my sensibilities. Damn, this was hard. I drew back from him and started crawling off the bed. A nice long cry in a hot shower, that’s what I needed. Plus to get off. This hotel had an excellent showerhead and I’d be making the most of it, yessiree. And maybe some ice cream too. It really was an excellent remedy for a broken heart.

“Wait.” A strong arm stopped me, drawing me back against his body. I just went. The man had the muscles to put me where he wanted—he’d already demonstrated it on numerous occasions. Me liking being in his arms would just have to be ignored.

“Why?” I cried. “C’mon, Ben. Give me a legitimate reason. Why should I stay?”

“Because of this.” One oversize hand splayed across my belly, his tanned skin a stark contrast to my own. “Because of us. We made a baby, Liz. You and me.”

“Ben…”

“Shh. Relax. Give me a minute here.”

Easy for him to say; he wasn’t having yet another emotional breakdown. Fire-trucking hormones. That I wanted him so bad didn’t help at all. Sexual frustration seemed to own me. But the risk of emotional damage was too damn high.

“Didn’t realize you’d gotten so big.” His fingers gently stroked my bump. “It’s only been a week.”

“Yeah,” I sniffled. “I kind of popped.”

His nose nuzzled my neck, lips placing gentle kisses. “Have you ever seen anything more amazing in your life? Our baby growing inside of you.”

I nodded, covering his hand with my own. “I know.”

“Then share it with me. I want to see you every day. I want to know how you two are doing, and be a part of things.” Despite his soothing words, I couldn’t help but tense up in his arms. “You’re beautiful. Relax.”

“You try relaxing with a huge boner rubbing against your back. I’m trying to break up with you—not that we’re even together—and your penis is not helping.”

Next came soft laughter, but he made no move to remove said hard-on from the area surrounding my buttocks.

“You’re going to have to get over being jealous,” I said. “Eventually I’ll meet someone else. You can’t go caveman every time a guy speaks to me. Baby or no, you don’t have the right, Ben.”

“Then give me the right.”

“So you can get scared and bolt? No.”

“Shit. Look, I can’t get over you, Liz. That’s the problem.” He rested his chin on my shoulder. “You’re the only girl I want.”

I stilled. Well, apart from the frown. “It this about your erectile issue? Because you don’t seem to be having much of a problem right now.”

“I don’t have an erectile issue. I have a
you
issue. My dick thinks you own it, apparently. But there’s more to it than that.…”

“Cocks don’t think. We went over that.”

“We were wrong.”

“Huh. So I have a pet penis. Okay, keep talking.” Curiosity had definitely gotten the better of me. “What more?”

Heat flooded the side of my neck as he pressed his face there. “Can’t fucking stand the thought of someone else touching you.”

I rolled my eyes. Such a Neanderthal. And while both were interesting points, neither constituted an occasion for any actual change from our status as friends.

“It’s not just about the baby.” He grunted.

“I’m not so sure about that,” I said, resting my head against his. Foolish of me, but it felt nice, cozying up to him. Besides, he’d grabbed me first.

“It’s the truth.”

“Prove it.”

“Prove it? How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Christ. All right. I only used Sasha…” The rest was a mumbled mess. His warm mouth pressed against my neck, smothering the words.

“What did you say?”

More mumbling.

“Ben, speak clearly.”

With a groan, he raised his head, leaning around to look me in the eyes. “I only used Sasha to get over you. Knew you couldn’t be just a casual thing, and Mal kept asking what had happened in Vegas, if I’d gone out with you or what. Then he started saying you were seeing someone and he thought you were bringing them to the party.”

“What?” I asked, screwing up my nose.

“Yeah.”

“Why the hell would he do that?”

“Why do you think?”

“God that man is such a shit stirrer.” Another coin for the swear jar. It’d be funding Bean’s college education and first home at this rate. A gap year touring Europe, perhaps.

“Always has been, always will be. So I invited Sasha to that dinner to get him off my back. And I was missing you, and you wouldn’t talk to me, and I thought you were bringing someone else.”

I just shook my head.

“I don’t know if it was just me trying to make you jealous or if a part of it was me trying to move on or what. She was a cool woman.”

My chin jerked up. “You thought she was cool?”

“You didn’t?”

“I didn’t think she was that cool,” I said in a voice without a trace of snobbery. Not even the merest hint.

“No?”

“I’m just saying, I thought she was a little bit know-it-all, really. Arrogant. And her hair was dumb. So … blue.” Her hair was impossibly cool, but no way was I admitting to that.

The silence behind me was deafening.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said in a voice that implied anything but.

“Oh shut up.” I sighed. “Fine, she was somewhat cool.” At some point I’d started playing with his fingers, twining them with mine, touching and toying with them. This was the problem with Ben. For me, being intimate with him came far too easily.

“Anyway,” he said. “That was all before I knew about the baby.”

“That was a deeply crappy and immature thing to do to her.”

“Yeah,” he said solemnly.

“No wonder she was mad.”

A nod.

Fingers caressed the side of my face tenderly.

“I’d have gone medieval on your man bits, if I was her,” I said.

His brows descended in a fierce look.

I just shrugged. Reap what you sow, baby.

“Had to pay her off to keep quiet about you. Adrian and the lawyers sorted it out.”

“No! The bitch.”

“Hmm.”

I huffed out a breath. “So we’ve established that we make each other behave like we’re back in middle school. What does that prove?”

“That we need to figure this thing out between us.”

“I thought that’s what we’ve been trying to do.”

A hand cupped my jaw. “I don’t mean fight it. I’m done fighting it. I mean go slow and figure this thing out.”

My forehead was a mass of wrinkles, I could feel it. I doubt my heart was much better.

“Sweetheart?”

“I don’t trust you, Ben. I’m sorry. I wish I could feel differently. But I keep trying to do this with you, and thinking you want it too, and…”

“And I keep fucking it up.”

“Yes.”

I thought he’d let me go, run off back to the party to lick his wounds—or someone else maybe. But he didn’t. Instead he settled on the bed with his back to the headboard, taking me with him, arranging me in his lap. I didn’t fight him.

“Are you angry?” I asked, mystified.

“How do they say…” He made a low noise that was pure damn sex of the vocal chords, I tell you. “Lizzy, when you say you don’t trust me it makes me feel like I want to tear shit up and go ballistic.”

“That’s an understandable if somewhat violent response.”

“But with our history, shit’s complicated,” he said, rubbing his mouth and bristly beard against the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Oh wow yeah. I needed to wear my hair up all the time. That felt divine.

“And as you said, we’re having a baby,” he said.

“True.”

“But I’m not running away this time. Say what you want. Shred me. I’m staying.”

“You are?”

“Yeah.” Capable hands separated my legs, hot skin soothing up my thighs. Christ, I loved it when he touched me. So damn much.

“What are you doing?” I asked, ever so slightly breathy.

“Nothing.”

The backs of his fingers ran up my inner thighs, tracing a path with his knuckles. I nearly cried when he stopped short of my pussy and turned back.

“I do not believe you.”

Neatly, he folded up my skirt, exposing it all. A sound of pure sex vibrated out of his chest, traveling through into my spine. “Fuck, Liz. Look at you. Love your pussy. Missed it.”

“Mm.” My shoulders tensed, rising higher. “Ben…”

“It’s okay.”

“This feels dangerous.”

“No. This feels right,” he murmured, teeth nipping at my ear. “You got my dick on a leash. Might as well have the rest of me.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means I’ve given up getting over you and I’m focusing on getting into you instead.”

“Neither of these statements are reassuring me, Ben.” I leaned my head back, twisting to the side so I could see his face. Seemed sincere. But then, I’d made that mistake a time or two before. “Explain in non–rock ’n’ roll speech please.”

“And you said Sasha had an attitude.” The corner of his lips twitched. “Means I’m going to get you to trust me again.”

Me? I had nothing.

Staring at me all the while, he stuck two fingers in his mouth to wet them. Then he ever so slowly traced them back and forth over my labia, making me gasp. Everything down there spasmed in glee. Lord help me. If the man ever guessed to what degree he owned me, I’d be doomed.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You really are out of control. I’ve barely touched you.”

“It’s the baby hormones. They’re psycho.”

He smiled. That smile—I didn’t trust it. But holy hell was it beautiful. My heart and my loins went into bloom. A rush of heat and emotion crashed through me. It was entirely possible I was in love with the bearded jerk, god help me. “You really want me to trust you?” I asked.

He drew slow circles around my clit before sliding the tip of a finger back and forth through me. The man slowly played with me. Pure, exquisite torture.

“Yeah,” he said. “I really do.”

“You’re serious about this? Us?”

“I am.” Still not breaking eye contact, he slid a finger into me. “You’re very wet.”

“Yeah. You know, it’s kind of hard to focus on relationship talk when you’re fingering me.”

“We can talk all you want later. Promise.”

“’kay.” I made a pitiful noise in my throat, my muscles tightening on his thick digit. My own hands were claws, digging into his rock-hard, jean-clad thighs.

“I mean, you got hot for me in Vegas. But this … Sweetheart, Christ, this is fucking awesome.”

“I masturbate. A lot.”

“Not anymore,” he rumbled. “Looking after you is my job. Trust me, Lizzy. I won’t let you down again.”

The finger inside me sought a sweet spot and proceeded to massage it with expert ease. Just that simply, he turned me inside out. It was a mercy my nipples didn’t poke holes through the fabric of my shirt. They sure as hell felt hard enough. My shoulders pushed back against his solid chest as the side of his thumb brushed back and forth across my clit. Lightning and shooting stars and all of the good stuff. The whole world went to white.

I throttled the scream in my throat. Or at least part of it. Oh boy and damn. I lay panting in his lap, my skin oversensitized, sweat beading on my forehead and back. How perfect.

He gently cupped my pussy with his hand. “I can still feel you throbbing.”

I stretched and yawned, slowly coming back down to earth. All of the happy was mine.

“You really needed that.”

“Yeah.” I turned, cuddling against his chest. If I stayed sort of on my side, the bump was happy enough. And what a nice, big, comfortable man he was. Especially helpful when it came to orgasms too. His fingers were far superior to my own, I had to say.

“You going to sleep on me now?” he asked, incredulous.

I nodded, closing my eyes. Damn he smelled good. They should bottle his sweat. I’d buy it in bulk. Meanwhile his hard-on continued to press into my hip. Bad luck, bud. I was down and out for the count. No could do.

“You wanted to go slow,” I said.

Disgruntled rumbling came from beneath me.

“You really want to be my boyfriend?” I asked, half opening one eye.

A hand smoothed down the fabric of my skirt and he shuffled us down the bed a little, getting comfortable.

“Boyfriend? Huh.” His rough, deep voice rolled through me, lulling me further toward sleep. “Never been anyone’s boyfriend before.”

“No?”

“No.”

Arms encircled me, the bristle of his beard brushing against my forehead as he settled back against the cushions.

“Your boyfriend,” he mused.

“It’s a big decision. You should take your time, think about it. Let me know when you’re ready to talk about it again.”

His forehead creased. “You sure are playing it cool.”

And about time, frankly. Lord knows, chasing after the man hadn’t gotten me anywhere. A girl could only beat her brains against a brick wall for so long before it was time to rethink things.

I shrugged and slid my hand up his side, getting closer. His skin was so smooth, his smattering of chest hair delightful to the touch. Everything about him was delightful really. In all likelihood, even his toenails would thrill me. Didn’t mean I’d be making it too easy on him.