Now and Again (14 page)

He pushed the fabric of her dress up over her stomach, and she squirmed when his warm breath touched her skin there. “Ah …”

She knew she should tell him to stop, but it felt so good she couldn’t make her mouth say anything. His lips caressed the seams of her panties – along her waistline and against her thighs. He hooked his fingers in the sides and moved them down an inch and Layla tensed.

“No . . . we should get going.” She shifted herself slightly, away from his hands.

Ben’s lips brushed her inner thigh as he tried to coax her. “Come on, we’ve got a little time.”

“I need to fix myself up a bit so we can go.”

“Are you nervous? Your legs are shaking.”

“No. I’m just . . . cold is all.” Layla slid from the bed and walked into the bathroom, where she pressed her back against the closed door and let out a deep breath. Her purse sat on the bathroom counter, and she reached in and pulled out her pale pink lipstick and applied it. She ran her fingers through her hair in an effort to fix it, eyeing her purse.

On a whim, she grabbed her phone and texted Emma.

Something’s wrong with me.

What’s going on? Are you ok?

Not really. I can’t have sex with Ben.

Why not?

Having sex makes me feel like a slut. I don’t want to feel that way with him.

A return message didn’t pop up instantly, and Layla stared at her reflection in the mirror. She’d given up her whore-ish behavior, but there was nothing she could do to stop the feelings it had left her with.

You are NOT a slut. You’re a great person and Ben really likes you. Just relax and give it time.

I really like him. I don’t want him to think I don’t want him.

He seems like a good guy. Maybe you should tell him how you feel.

I don’t want him to know how slutty I used to be. It’s embarrassing.

We’ve all done things we’re not proud of.

I just can’t tell him. He won’t see me the same way anymore. Have to go, we’re going to the rehearsal.

Call me later if you need to talk.

Layla stepped out of the bathroom, pasting on a smile.

“Ready?”

Ben sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands and wearing a serious expression. “Do we need to talk?” he asked.

“No. I mean, we can, but let’s talk on the way so we’re not late.”

Ben studied her as they left the room. “Talk to me.”

“I’m just . . . nervous, okay? It’s been a long time since anyone’s been in that neighborhood.”

“You don’t need to be nervous with me.” He stopped in the middle of the hallway and Layla paused, too, looking up into his light blue eyes. “I’ll go slow and trust me, I know how to make you forget your nerves.”

“I know. It’s not that.”

A middle-aged couple stepped out of another room and two kids bounced out behind them. Layla smiled at Ben and he reached for her hand, walking her silently to the elevator. The family chattered as they all got on, and Layla took a breath to calm her frayed nerves. Her confidence was MIA, and her libido was pissed. Hopefully a few drinks at the rehearsal dinner would help.

***

Kelly, the bride-to-be, reached for the tray of shots a waitress had delivered and passed them around the table. Layla looked at the amber liquid and gave Ben a wary glance.

“Will you do mine, too?” she asked, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked. She’d been trashed for hours, and the high was wearing down now.

“Eh.”

“To Liam and Kelly and their new life of sexless enslavement!” one of the groomsmen yelled, hoisting his shot glass into the air. Layla grabbed hers and raised it halfheartedly, sliding it to Ben when everyone else was drinking. He tipped them both past his lips quickly.

“What time is it?” Layla mumbled.

“It’s 1:30.”

“I think I’m done,” she said, raising her head.

“We’re gonna have to cab it, I drank a lot, too,” he said. “I’ll come get the car in the morning.”

They rose to say their goodbyes and Kelly reached for Ben with a hug.

“It’s nice to see Layla with someone,” she said in his ear. “You take good care of her. I love that girl.”

She pulled away before he could respond, and Ben scowled when he saw one of the groomsmen pressed against Layla, one hand gripping her back and another cupping her ass.

“Luscious Layla,” he slurred. “I’m the only guy here you’ve never blown. Let’s go in the bathroom and . . . fix that.”

Ben approached and reached for Layla, who stumbled toward him and grabbed his hand.

“You’re an ass, Cramer,” she said.

“Am I right or am I wrong?” the stocky man yelled, leering at her. “Raise your hand if you’ve got a dick and Layla’s never sucked it!” He smirked as he stuck his hand in the air.

Ben’s nostrils flared with anger as he released Layla’s hand. He shoved the smartass chubby guy, sending him bouncing off a nearby table and spilling onto the floor. It’d been a while since he’d been in a fight, but this guy had left him no choice. He vaguely remembered he’d be in serious trouble at work if he got arrested, but the alcohol had made things cloudy and nothing was as important as smashing this guy’s face right now.

He approached Cramer, who crawled away on his back. Ben leaned down to pull him up from the floor before striking, but felt arms on his, holding him back. He turned and saw Liam pushing back one of his shoulders. Two other men each held one of his arms.

“Hey, sorry, man,” Liam said. He was plastered, too, and his blond hair stuck up in messy spikes. “I know he was out of line, but Kelly will flip out over black eyes and missing teeth in our wedding pictures.”

“Ben,” Layla said from behind him, laying a hand on his back. “Let’s just go.”

His tension dissipated, but he glared at Cramer, making sure he stayed flat on the floor until they were gone.

“See you in the morning,” Layla said to the women, lacing her fingers through Ben’s. She tried to lead the way, but looked at him, confused. “Where’s the door again?”

He smiled and led her toward the exit. As soon as they stepped into the muggy summer night air, he waved and a cab parked at the corner headed their way. They climbed into the back and Ben pulled Layla’s hand into his lap as she gave the driver the name of the hotel.

“Hey, I need to ask you something,” he said. “Earlier, when we were at the first bar and you’d had a few drinks, you made a comment about me thinking you’re a drunk
and
a slut. Why’d you say that?”

“Who knows, Ben? I was drunk. Still am, I think. God, I’m tired.” She laid her head in his lap and he brushed the hair back from her face.

“Tell me, Layla.”

She sighed, turning her face to look up at him. “This is the second time you’ve seen me get trashed and we haven’t known each other that long. And . . . you heard what Cramer said. I’m like the car that everyone’s already driven. Who wants that? You’re a man.” She reached up and touched a fingertip to his nose. “You want a shiny, new car.”

“You’re not a slut, Layla. I don’t think that. Hey, look at me . . . I don’t think that.”

She laughed, her dimples making a brief appearance. “You say that, but you don’t know how many—”

“It doesn’t matter to me.” He ran a hand over her dark, silky hair.

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we close to the hotel? Cause I think I’m gonna puke.”

***

The church pews were laden with clusters of white roses and greenery, and the sweet fragrance of the flowers filled the enormous room. A wistful wave hit Layla as she watched Liam bend to kiss Kelly. They were both beaming when they parted and he raised her hand into the air victoriously.

Kelly made a beautiful bride. She was lean and graceful, her long chestnut hair in an elegant knot at the nape of her neck. Layla had tried on her glistening tiara before the ceremony and resisted the urge to take a selfie.

Liam’s younger brother Marlon was her escort, and he grinned as Layla slipped her arm into his. He was tall and lanky, with shaggy blond hair that matched Liam’s.

She searched through the rows of guests as they walked down the aisle, hoping to catch Ben’s eye. He hadn’t seen her in her strapless pale pink dress before the ceremony. She’d left the room in sweats and a grungy t-shirt, with no makeup and a ponytail. After a couple hours at a salon, she was now perfectly made up and had her hair swept into a loose updo, with a few wavy tendrils escaping.

They made it to the end of the aisle, and Marlon glanced down at her breasts as she pulled her arm away. She waited on the stone steps of the church as Kelly and Liam greeted guests inside. Where was Ben?

An alarm sounded in her head, and she wondered if he’d even come to the wedding. They hadn’t talked all day. He’d said he was going to find somewhere to work out when she left for the salon and that he’d meet her at the church. But what if he’d changed his mind?

Kelly’s sister Beth stood next to Layla, waiting, but Layla couldn’t force herself to make conversation. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes closed.

It’s not worth crying over, Layla. Pull yourself together.

“Hey.” The deep voice made her snap her eyes open, and she grinned, relieved to see Ben approaching. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” she said.

“Hi, I’m Beth.” Layla’s fellow bridesmaid lunged toward Ben, hand outstretched. Her gaze roved up and down his body. He did look particularly good in a dark charcoal suit, light blue shirt and striped tie.

“Hey, I’m Ben.”

“He’s with me,” Layla said, reaching her arms up to his neck for a hug.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured in her ear. She wove her hand into his as they waited with the gathering crowd of guests outside the church for Liam and Kelly to exit into the horse-drawn carriage that would take them to the reception.

For the first time, Layla didn’t feel a sting of resentment that one of her friends was riding into the sunset with her Prince Charming. But she knew it would be back next time, when this four-week power play was over.

Young Marlon was getting hand-sy during the obligatory dance that was only for members of the wedding party. Ben was listening to the guy chatting next to him at a table with only half an ear, his attention focused on Layla.

Marlon was cupping her ass with one hand and gripping her hip with the other. He held her so closely against him that her breasts were touching his chest. Every time Ben looked away with disgust, his eyes were drawn back to them within a couple seconds.

His muscles tingled with the urge to jump out of his seat and jerk the college kid away from Layla so hard he got whiplash. He drummed his fingers on the table and shifted himself around in the chair.

“Anxious to dance with your girlfriend?” Mark, the skinny guy sitting next to him, was married to one of the other bridesmaids.

“Uh . . . yeah,” Ben said.

“I wish that guy would just dance with Carrie all night,” Mark said. “I fucking hate dancing. I’d rather sit at the bar in the lounge and watch the game.”

Other couples started making their way on to the dance floor, and Ben bolted up from his chair. He hadn’t even made it to them yet when Layla pulled away from Marlon and headed toward him.

“Am I glad to see you,” she muttered. “That kid needs to get laid.”

Marlon’s eyes were still on Layla, and Ben glared at him until he fled to the other side of the dance floor.

“Dance with me,” Ben said, leading Layla back onto the wood parquet.

“You dance?”

“Of course I do, Cupcake. Why is that such a surprise?” He turned to face her and reached for her other hand, pulling them both up to his shoulders.

“I’ve never danced with anyone so tall,” she said, wrapping her fingers around the back of his neck as his large hands settled around her hips.

“I’ve never danced with anyone so beautiful,” he said, and Layla threw her head back with laughter.

“What a line!”

Ben laughed with her. “It did sound like a line, but it’s true.”

He pulled her hips against him, and Layla’s eyes flicked to his before she laid her head on his chest. The feel of her warm skin beneath the thin fabric of her dress stirred his desire for her. It didn’t take much to cause that anymore, though. She’d looked at him from across the room at the rehearsal dinner the night before and fuck if it hadn’t made him hard.

They danced in silence for two slow songs and Ben was sorry when a pop song started and Layla unmolded her body from his. Her brows arched playfully when he busted a move to the faster music.

“You’re full of surprises, Sergeant Montrose,” she said, turning around. When she rounded her ass against him, Ben reached around her instinctively, wrapping an arm around her waist. He felt her sharp gasp when his erection pressed against her ass, and it got his blood flowing.

She spun back to face him. “Gotta keep it clean til the grandparents leave,” she said. “But after that I plan to have my way with you on this dance floor.”

“And after that I plan to have my way with you upstairs,” he said, his tone smooth and sure.

“Oh, really?” Layla’s lips parted with amusement.

“Yes,
really
.”

“But—”

“I’ll give it to you there if you want it. But you’ll be sore tomorrow. Then again, you’ll be sore no matter which way I choose.”

He looked at her intently as they danced, her hips edging right up against his. He knew why she wasn’t arguing for once. She wanted him to own her body as much as he did. She was just too damn proud to admit it. Ben was slowly figuring her out, and he’d waited long enough to learn how she liked to be touched and what made her come hard. He was done waiting.

***

Every nerve in Layla’s body tingled with need for Ben. She’d been moving her body against his in time with the music for almost two hours, and the buildup was becoming more than she could stand. She ran her hands over his hard, wide shoulders, up to the back of his neck and into his hairline, which was damp with sweat.