Oughta Be a Movie: a Sugar-&-Spice romantic comedy (11 page)

Safewords?
Her heart rate may have kicked up again. How would she know? Her heart had been racing since he told her to take her clothes off. And she’d done it. She was way too young for a heart attack. At least it couldn’t be a very high probability. She wondered what the probability was. Should look it up because…but she didn’t have any signs of cardiac distress. Well, except the hard-to-breathe thing, but that went with the sexual arousal response and—

Ben was moving his hand again, his thumb brushing her there, and she was trying not to squirm or rock into the big, warm hand cupping her. But she made that sound again, like a puppy begging for a treat—

“Ali?”

What was he asking? Oh, yeah. Her safewords. Did she remember her safewords? She did. Didn’t she? Apparently she did since her head was nodding yes.

“No more nodding or shaking your head when you answer me, Ali-Cat. It’s too easy to miscommunicate. I need to hear your answer. Understood?”

She nodded.

“Ali.” It was Ben’s voice, but he sounded so firm. Resolute.

Crap.
“Yes, I understand.”

“They are?”

They
?
Right, her safewords.
“Red. And yellow.”

“And?”

His thumb stroked her again.
And what? Oh, yeah.
“And green if I’m okay.” His hand moved away, and she felt another whimper in the back of her throat. He was holding his hands out to her, palms up. She realized her arms were still crossed behind her. Her breasts pushed out. How could she forget about that? Everything he’d asked had been hard at first, embarrassing. But then it seemed comfortable. No, not comfortable. This aching wasn’t comfortable. But he made it feel natural. And the desire she saw in his eyes when she followed his instructions felt good. Really, really good. Heat rushed to her face—again—as she placed her hands in his and felt her own wetness.

“You’ve done well.”

The compliment washed over her. Warm. If she
were
a puppy, she’d be wagging her tail. Why did his words mean so much?

Because she wanted to please him.

“Stand up and put your shoes on.” He gave her hands a squeeze then moved his to her waist, helping her up and holding her until she was steady. She glanced at her heels in the pile of clothes.
Shoes?
As soon as she had them on, he clasped her hand, weaving their fingers together, and led her to the room door, stopping her, hands on her hips, a little more than a foot in front of it.

“Bend forward. Place your elbows and hands against the door. Feet shoulder width apart.”

No doubt about it, her heart kicked into another gear at his instructions. She tried to swallow, but gave it up as she bent forward. He was going to— 

“Beautiful.” His hands caressed her sides. “Do you know how I’m going to touch you?”

“Yes-ss.”

“Color?”

She could end this. He was waiting for her to tell him it was okay, insisting she tell him she wanted this. And if she didn’t, he’d stop. All she had to say was red. A voice in her head whispered that this was a bad idea. There was no going back. But that voice was drowned out by the one shouting “I want this.” She managed to swallow and keep her voice even.

“Green.” She wanted to be as sophisticated as the women he knew, so she tossed her head and gave him her best sassy look. “Isn’t now when you tell me this will hurt you more than it will hurt me?”

His eyes were smiling, but the tilt at the corner of his mouth was a smirk, and he winked when he said, “I’ll never lie to you.” Her face flamed. It must be the color of the strawberry cupcake dress she’d worn in the wedding. “Hands higher. Face forward and chin up.” He ran his fingertips along her spine. “Back arched.”

She adjusted her position and tried not to think about how she must look. “You’re perfect, sweetness.” He placed his hand over hers and squeezed it. “And no matter what, keep your hands on the door.”

No matter what?

His left arm slid under her breasts, loosely holding her in place. His right hand caressed her bottom, the backs of her thighs. He ran his fingertips down her spine again before resting his palm lightly at the small of her back. Leaning in, his lips at her ear when he spoke. “Tonight is about calibration, but these first two are for me.”

What did he mean? Then it happened so fast. A small shift in his body, a tightening of his arm at her ribcage. A sound split the air as his hand landed on her butt, and a sharp edge of pain cut through her. Her gasp too deep to cry out.
Red! Red, red, red.
Just as quickly the slice of pain turned to a burn, stinging.
Not red, yellow.
And then pain became something else, a warm tingling, a current running down her spine. Her back arched deeper and her toes curled with such force she was pushed onto her tiptoes, and the ache in her core was too much. And not enough.
Green. Oh God, green.

Before she could understand the sensations or draw more than a shaky, shallow breath, his hand landed on the other cheek. The same edge of pain, the same rush of pleasure.

Then he loosened his hold on her and stepped away, a little behind her. Not far, he was still touching her, his hand splayed now on her mid-section. Her mix of relief and disappointment was too confusing. She didn’t understand any of what she was feeling, but she wanted him closer, holding her in place, wanted to feel the rush again. Even wanted the fear. His fingertip traced a pattern.

“My handprint.” His hand rested gently where he’d spanked her. “It won’t last long. But I’ll remember.” For a second, his fingers tightened. “These are for you. Show me what you want.”

His first touch was no more than a gentle pat followed by a playful swat, then firmer. His arm moved across her, holding her loosely under her breasts, and she gasped when the next one was more. A burn, but not like before. She wanted the rush.

“Harder?”

“Yes, but…”

“But what?”

“Hold me—” Her voice cracked; she tried again. “Will you hold me tighter? Like you did before.”

His arm and hand tightened around her. “Of course.” He shifted closer, pressing against the side of her thigh and hip; his obvious arousal matched hers, his hand stroking her bottom then her inner thigh. “Six.”

It was faster this time. Not fast, but not pausing. His hand landing lower, right on the spot where she sat. The burn, the sting, the rush, the ache all ran together. Ali cried out, but he didn’t change his rhythm. She didn’t want him to. The sensations built until she thought her legs would buckle. The ache. She’d never wanted like this. His hand was on her thigh, between her legs. So close to the edge, she needed him
now
. Then he was pulling her away from the door, turning her to face him, and scooping her up into his arms.

As soon as he settled her on the bed, he reached into his pocket and tossed a handful of condoms beside her almost at the same moment he stripped off his jeans.

She was coming off the edge, but it was still hard to breathe. What little breath she had was taken away again. He was beautiful. She reached out to stroke his hard thigh, her one word came out on an exhale. “Wow.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “Is that for me? Or…” He nodded to the foil packets. “Or for my optimism?”

“Both.” Putting one knee on the bed, he laughed and reached for her, but she felt a small niggle of doubt. Why had he brought those to the wedding? The possibility of sex? With someone. Glancing at the condoms, she tried to sound like one of the cool kids when she tossed out, “Always good to travel prepared.” But apparently she didn’t succeed because his smile immediately faded and his expression turned serious.

“It is.” He sat down beside her. “And there are probably a couple in my duffle bag, but I have no idea how old they are.” His fingers tilted her chin up. “I bought these in the hotel gift shop when you came upstairs to change for the party.” His thumb rubbed over her lips as he added, “For you.” His mouth brushed where his thumb had been. “For us.”

Her cool-kids remark hadn’t fooled him. He knew her too well. All she managed was a nod, but he didn’t ask her for words which was good because her heart swelled so large it was in her throat. She could see how ready he was, but he’d stopped everything when he’d seen her vulnerability.

“So spread ‘em, sweet cheeks. We need to make a dent in that box of twenty-four I sprang for.”

“Ben!”

He took advantage of her shock by invading her mouth before the last sound of his name faded. As he moved over her, settling between her legs and supporting his weight on one arm, he held her wrists together and pushed them over her head. His tongue stroked over hers in a promise. Just when she thought his kiss alone would take her to the peak, he released her.

“Keep your hands there.” He moved to her breasts, teasing and tormenting and salving until she was squirming and close to begging. Beg him for more. Beg him never to stop. Beg him to touch her where she ached. Then he moved lower, kissing and biting, until his tongue circled her navel.

She grabbed his shoulders. “You don’t have to—”

“No, I don’t. But you have to keep your hands where I place them or I’ll tie them there.” He watched her but didn’t move until her hands were back where he wanted. Then he brushed the back of his fingers across the tips of her breasts. “But that’s not much of a threat. Is it, sweetness?”

His words. His touch that was too light. Her legs clenched and her moan seemed to be answer enough.

His teeth nipped, his tongue licked, his mouth kissed and sucked, getting closer to the ache. And then he was pushing her legs wider, his tongue running along her slit. She struggled not to push against him. But with one swipe of his tongue across the swollen nub, her back arched off the bed. His mouth was against her when he said, “You like that.”

She nodded. He eased away and she wanted to demand he stay, but in a fuzzy corner of her brain she remembered that he wanted words. “Yes.” He was training her. Would he give her a treat if she begged? Oh, God, she wanted a treat. Would be happy to beg.

But she didn’t have to.

His tongue was stroking her again, firmly, in a steady rhythm, and she felt the urgency building. She tried to pull back from the sensations that were overwhelming her, but his hands on her hips tightened, not letting her move away. He pulled one leg over his shoulder then slipped his fingers inside her, matching the strokes of his tongue. So damn close as he pushed her higher and higher, and then she was falling and crying out, the tremors gripping her as she fell and fell and fell.

When he finally took his mouth off of her, he lifted her leg and set her foot down close to her hip. Opened completely for him. He sat back on his heels, and she heard the rip of foil. A tick in his jaw was the only thing that gave away his struggle for control. Then he was moving up her body, his lips and chin glistening with her arousal. He didn’t stop until he was kissing her, and she tasted herself on his lips.

“I want to make this last, Ali, but I can’t wait any longer. I need inside you now.”

Her voice was only a shaky whisper. “I need it, too.”

He positioned himself and slipped just barely inside her. It wasn’t enough, and she heard herself whimper as he pulled her hands beside her head and wove their fingers together. Then with one thrust of his hips, he filled her.

“Ali.” His groan filled her in another way as his mouth came down on hers and he started to move. Her strokes matched his, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, wanting to give him the same pleasure he’d given her. But then she was climbing again. Higher. When he released her hand and slipped his between them, she jolted at his touch. She was too sensitive there, but he didn’t move his fingers away. Something coiled within in her, tighter and tighter, a want like she’d never felt before. He pushed her to the edge of an impossibly high cliff. And over. She was flying, gripping his shoulder with all her strength and calling his name.

He thrust once more, and she felt every muscle in his body tense and still. Then he was flying with her, growling one word. “Mine.”

Yes. Yours.

She was shattered. When his weight collapsed on her, Ali welcomed it as if it could hold all the pieces together. Her legs were still trembling as he eased them from his hips and rolled onto their sides, his arms around her, pulling her close. Neither said a word, but his eyes said everything. He pushed her hair back from her face and kissed her so sweetly on the forehead.

The first sob came so suddenly, she never had a chance to hold back the tears.

“Ali? Are you crying?”

She could hear the worry in Ben’s voice, but she couldn’t answer him except to shake her head no. Which was a little crazy since she was sobbing.

“Did I hurt you?” All she managed was another shake of her head. “Talk to me.” He reached to tilt her chin up, but she grabbed his hand and pulled his arm around her. He understood what she wanted and pulled her closer, cradling her head against his shoulder. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”

In just moments, the sobs stopped almost as quickly as they’d started, but it took her a few seconds to find a steady breath. “I don’t know why I did that.” She pulled back just far enough to look at him. “I’ve never done it before. But then I’ve never done
any
of this before.” He still looked worried and confused. “I mean I’ve done it before, but not this. Well, yeah this, but—I mean it’s never been
like
this before.”

His worried expression morphed into a warm smile as he wiped away a tear. “It’s never been like this for me either, Peanut.”

Brushing his lips across hers, the kiss was so sweet. And then it wasn’t sweet as his lips trailed along her jawline and under her ear and to that spot on her neck, one hand lifting the weight of her breast.

She looked up at him. “Are you, do you want to, uh, now?”

He chuckled. “Not yet. But I want to kiss you. And hold you. Give me twenty minutes.”

“Your refractory period.”

“My what?”

“Refractory period. The time from ejaculation to when you can get erect again. In lab rats it’s about four minutes.”

He laughed. “Lucky rats. Did I mention that I like it when you talk dirty? Aren’t you going to explain how this ‘refractory period’ works?”

“Not now, I’m too sleepy.” She
was
sleepy. It had been an amazing, emotional, exhausting day. And the best day of her life. Ben rolled her to her other side and tucked her back against his chest. In some corner of her brain, the day’s highlights reel was playing at warp speed from the moment she’d seen him standing with Josh in the front of the church to the screaming O’s. Who knew those were a real thing? But even the images couldn’t keep her awake, and she was almost asleep when she thought of something she needed to say. “Ben?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

He flipped her onto her back so fast she didn’t know what was happening until his arm was across her body, his hand on her shoulder holding her still. “There are rules, Ali. Number One is honesty.”

Honesty. She hadn’t lied to him, but she needed to tell him about grad school. But not now because he was still talking. Something about her “thank you” had really set him off.

“Number Two, we talk about what we want, how we want it, what we don’t want. We teach the other how to please us. Agreed?”

She started to nod, but stopped herself. “Yes.”

“And Rule Number Three, never, ever thank me again for giving you pleasure. I want your response, but I never want your gratitude because every minute is a pleasure for me, too.”

So intense. She couldn’t read his eyes, but she knew this was important to him. “Okay.”

“Good. I’ll be right back.” He stepped into the bathroom, apparently disposing of the condom, then he was back, easing her onto her side again. The tension was gone and with his arm under her breasts, he pulled her tight against him, nipping her neck, soothing it with his tongue. “You’ve got twenty minutes to nap.” She wiggled into a more comfortable position, pressing against him as she did, and he growled. “Make it fifteen.”

. . . . .

When Ben woke up this time, the slivers of sunshine coming in at the edge of the drapes were bright. A smile spread across his face. Ali was sprawled across him, one leg tangled with his; she was using his chest as her pillow. He wanted to wake her again, but this time he let her sleep, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around her, only touching her to brush her crazy curls away from her face. It was only twenty minutes before the time she’d said she needed to wake up.

It was still hard for him to believe they’d gotten to this place. He took a certain pride in knowing he’d satisfied a woman, but in truth that was all about him, his ego. This had been so different. He’d told her it had never been like this before, and it hadn’t. It was just
more
when you were with a woman you loved, and—

He loved Ali.

His hand cupped the back of her head. Impossible not to touch her as he remembered his panic when he woke several hours ago. It was barely light, and she wasn’t in bed. She was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, that giant t-shirt in her hands, watching him. He’d asked what she was doing…

“I should probably go.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want the morning to be awkward.”

He’d managed to keep his voice level, calm. “It’s never been awkward between us. That’s not going to change.”

“This just all happened really fast—”

“You mean like nineteen years fast.

She was shaking her head. “You know what I mean.”

“We’re still us, Ali.”

“And I don’t know what you—what to expect.”

He was out of bed and only seconds later was turning on the shower, tossing the t-shirt she was holding over his shoulder, and taking her in his arms to kiss her. “Expect this.” When he finally pulled back, he’d told her she tasted like mint.

“I borrowed your toothbrush. I figured with all the places your mouth has been, you wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay, sassy pants, in the shower for you.”

And the shower…his hands slick with soap roaming over her body, her head thrown back, the sounds she made. Then she’d told him to sit on the marble bench, and he’d expected her to straddle his lap. Instead she’d pushed his legs wider and dropped to her knees.

The memory of the first time he watched her take him in her mouth was unlikely to ever fade. And he wanted her awake. Now.

Sliding her up his body was torture with the images of the shower in his brain. He rolled them over and settled between her legs, supporting himself on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush her and leaving kisses at the corners of her eyes, on her temples, on the tip of her nose. Her eyes were fluttering open, and she pushed her arms over her head. The arch of her back as she stretched pushed her breasts against his chest. More torture. “What time is it?”

“A little earlier than you said. You want time to dress, but I need time to kiss you awake.” He kept kissing her face until she wrinkled her nose and giggled. His hand ran along her side. “And time to touch you.” He rolled over, taking her with him so that she was on top of him. Running his hands over her hips, he whispered in her ear. “Everywhere.” Then with his hands holding her face, he kissed her until they both had to come up for air. “Do we really have to go to this brunch?”

At least she was a little winded when she laughed and answered, “Yes, we do.”

“If you say so, and what else is on the schedule today?”

“Nothing scheduled after that until dinner at Maison Martinique then on to this sexy club everybody’s been talking about.”

“I guess there’s no chance we can ditch dinner and the club either.”

“Ben! No, we’re still on duty. Have you forgotten you’re the best man and I’m the maid-of-honor?”

“At least I can keep you here naked all afternoon. Then we do end up at a
sexy
club. What makes it sexy besides the fact that you’re going to be there?”

“I have no idea. Never been there. But I heard the servers wear thongs.”

“Is that all they wear?”

“You can dream.”

“I am, baby. I am.” Suddenly remembering, that he did have one place to be, he groaned. “Damn. I’ll have to cut short the naked afternoon about 4:30. I’m going over to spend an hour or so with my dad. He asked Donna to marry him last night.”

“Oh! What did she say?”

“I don’t know. I turned the ringer off on my phone, so I don’t know if he’s called or texted. Guess I should check.”

“You haven’t checked?”

“No.” He slid his hands around her to cup her bottom. “I’ve had my hands full.”

“Did you just say my ass is big?”

He laughed and slipped his hands down to her thighs. “No, I did not. I said your ass fits my hands perfectly. Are you sure we can’t skip out on this dinner tonight? And, by the way, shouldn’t Josh and Bree be on a honeymoon by now?”

She squirmed just enough and not nearly enough. “I’m very sure. And they leave tomorrow morning at 10. They wanted this weekend with friends.”

“I want time with you without this whole posse along. If you’ll ditch work tomorrow, I can keep you naked until 3 or so.”

“I don’t have school tomorrow. It’s Presidents’ Day.”

“Even better. I’ll change my flight to late Tuesday morning. We can go out somewhere—alone—tomorrow night.”

Her squirming stopped. “Like a date?”

God, she deserved better. He wouldn’t change one second of the night or the morning, but it still fell too damn short in the romance department. “Not
like
a date. It is a date. This wasn’t about one night, Ali-Cat. You decide where you want to go.” He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Come out to LA at Spring Break. Stay with me. Unless you’ve already made plans.”

She was looking at him, studying him. There was something she wanted to say, but all she said was “Okay.” Then she glanced at the clock. “Yikes, I’ve gotta go.”

She tried to push away, but he moved one hand to the back of her neck and pulled her down for one more kiss as the fingers of his other hand moved to stroke her inner thigh. “If you insist.” She got even with one more wiggle which definitely earned her a swat. “I’ll stop by for you in an hour, and we’ll go down together.”

“We already did that.”

It took him a second to get it, but her dirty pun had him laughing and shaking his head. “What have I created?”

“If we arrive together, people will think—”

“I don’t care. They’d be right.”

She was studying him again. Then she nodded as she hopped out of his arms and out of bed, coming to an immediate stop and looking around the room at the bed linens on the floor mixed with the still damp towels from their steamy shower. And if those left any doubt as to how they’d spent their night, the condom wrappers strewn around said it all.

“This place is a mess. I can’t leave it like this for housekeeping to find.”

He swallowed his chuckle. “I’ll pick up before I go downstairs. Don’t want to shock the housekeeper.”

She seemed doubtful but said, “Thanks. I’ve got to do something about my hair.”

“I can do something about it.” He tangled his fingers in the curls and tugged her head back, kissing her from her chin to the tempting valley between her breasts. They groaned at the same time, but he reluctantly let her go. “Find your clothes. I’ve got this.” He pulled on his jeans, not bothering to fasten them, and watched her gather up her clothes.

“I can’t find my panties. Did you hide them?”

“Not me. Those shorts will cover you. You’re just running down one flight of stairs.”

“I don’t want to lose my sassy pants.”

He smiled. But then he was always smiling around her. “I certainly don’t want that either. I’ll find them.” She pulled on the shorts and harnessed herself back into that crazy bra then covered it up with the huge t-shirt and stepped into her heels.
I love this woman.

She had the door open, and he heard the sound of the elevator ding from the other end of the hall, but he pulled her back for one more quick kiss. And one more swat on that sweet ass before she scooted away.

Drawing open the drapes, he found her panties behind the desk where he’d apparently tossed them last night. He didn’t have time to enjoy the memory of stripping them off of her before a knock sent him back to the door. What had she forgotten? He was sure she’d checked that she had her key. With the panties dangling from one finger, he opened the door. “Look what I foun—”

But he cut off the banter when he looked into one very unhappy face.

Josh was furious.