Ruin (12 page)

His rod-like cock throbbed against my stomach, a drip of pre-cum seeping out. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders and may have raked his skin. There was no time to check. No way we could have interrupted our passion before we were satisfied.

He picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. We were naked, damp, and totally exposed to anyone who walked through the stable doors. I didn't care. All I cared about was having him inside me.

He pressed me against the stable wall between a spade and a chain hanging on hooks. He kissed my throat as he pushed the head of his cock inside. I was slick and open, ready for him.

He slipped all the way in, no resistance.

He swallowed my gasp and gave a responding groan low in his throat. We just stood there, our bodies entwined, pulsing and twitching with desire. It was like we hadn't seen each other in months, not days.

I couldn't stand it. "Take me, Ben."

He did. He held my ass and pounded into me. I lost all sense of time and place. I wrapped one arm around his shoulders and the other reached out, searching for something immobile to hang onto. My fingers touched the chain, and I wound it around my hand. It rattled and clanked but the hook held.

"Kate," he said, his voice slurred. "My sweet, perfect Kate."

It was what my heart wanted to hear. It burst out of my chest, or so it seemed. I cried out as my body exploded around his cock. His tempo increased, and he swelled inside me before he pulled out and spilled onto my stomach.

We stayed like that, with me against the wall, my legs around his hips, for some time. I was in that zone where every sense is hyper-tuned to just two things—him and me.

Eventually, our breathing returned to normal, and I could focus again on the world.

Outside, it was still raining but with less frenzy.

"So you missed me too, huh?" he said, a smile in his voice.

"Was it that obvious?"

He chuckled and eased away, letting me down. He cleaned my stomach with his shirt and handed me my clothes. "You'd better put these on. We probably should get back to the house."

I didn't want this to end. He hadn't turned cold, hadn't tried to push me away. It was the perfect end to hot sex, and no way was I letting him leave.

"Not yet," I said. "It's still raining. Come and lie with me for a while."

He looked around. There was nothing to lie on except the ground and the old cart. He pushed it and the wheels held. "Your carriage awaits, Cinderella," he said, offering me his hand.

I took it and let him draw me close to his body. It hummed against mine like a finely tuned instrument. "You got the right fairytale this time," I murmured.

"Yeah? It was a guess." He helped me onto the back of the cart. "Fairytales didn't feature highly in my upbringing."

"Too girly?"

He leaped up and settled beside me. The cart was dusty and rickety, but neither of us cared.

"I guess," he said, guarded.

"Your Mom didn't think about rounding out your education with stories about princesses?"

I laughed.

His eyelashes lowered as he settled back against the cart. "It wasn't really on her radar."

My laughter died. "Ben, what is it? What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Forget it."

I didn't know why talking about Cinderella had upset him. Or was it discussing his mother that bothered him? I leaned back, nestling into the crook of his arm. He kissed the top of my head, and I sighed.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?"

"For not walking off this time."

I felt his chest rise and fall with his deep breath. I waited for him to say something, but he didn't.

"What's different, Ben? Why did you stay this time?"

"I...I think I can change. You make me believe and hope."

Change? Hope? "Why do you need to change? You're wonderful the way you are."

"You think that, but you don't know me. Not really."

I shifted so I could look at him fully. His eyes swam and a small muscle throbbed in his jaw. "Then talk to me," I said. "Tell me why you need to change."

He shook his head. "I can't. Do you understand?"

"No."

He dragged in a breath and let it out slowly. "All I can tell you is that I didn't have the sort of childhood you had."

"You mean you didn't live in a dull town that hasn't been introduced to the twenty-first century?"

He smiled and kissed the end of my nose. "I mean a happy childhood with loving parents who care about you."

I sat up properly and tried to look into his eyes, but he turned away. "Your parents...they didn't love you?"

He twisted a lock of my hair around his finger then let it unravel. He did it twice before he answered. "I think my mom did. I remember her swinging me around by my arms, smiling. I must have been very little."

"What happened?" I asked softly. I was afraid that if I spoke loudly, it would shatter the fragile trust he had in me.

"Dad..." He drew up his knees and rested his elbow on them. He rubbed his hand through his hair and closed his eyes. "Dad made life difficult for her. He...wasn't a good man. She stopped smiling altogether when I was about ten up until the age of nineteen."

"What happened when you were nineteen?"

"She died."

A lump lodged in my throat. I could hear the pain in his voice, and it clawed at my heart.

But there was anger too, directed toward his father I guessed.

"Where's your dad now?"

"I don't know if I believe in God, and I don't know what happens after we die, but if there is a Hell, I hope he's rotting in it."

"Did he...hurt you?"

He opened his eyes. They were like two oceans, deep and swirling and the brightest blue I'd ever seen. I circled my arms around him and held him tight. Outside, the rain stopped, but we didn't get off the cart, and I didn't let go. He pressed his forehead to mine and sighed.

Oh God. He didn't have to say anything. I knew it was true just by the haunted shadows in his eyes. My stomach heaved. I tasted bile. It made me so angry to think that someone could hurt a child. His
own
child. It was unfathomable. Sickening. It made my argument with my parents seem petty.

"That's the part I don't want to talk about it, Kate. I just want to forget...everything."

"Okay." I drew away to look at him. "But I want you to know that I care about you, and that also means I want to know everything about you. The good and bad."

He pushed a damp strand of my hair off my forehead and smiled gently, achingly. "I don't want to darken your world. The worst thing in your life is that your parents smother you because they love you. I
can't
darken your world, Kate. I won't."

"But—"

"Shhh." He pressed his finger to my lips. "I started out thinking I shouldn't even be with you because I didn't want to taint your charmed life." He gave me that crooked smile that I'd already come to cherish. "This is progress, right?"

I kissed his finger. I wasn't going to push him. He
had
made progress in the few days since we'd parted. I wasn't going to let him revert to that way of thinking again, wasn't going to let him put an end to this. Whatever we had was too new and too fragile to undergo that kind of interrogation.

I changed the subject slightly to let him know I understood, and I was right there with him.

"I know Mom and Dad love me, but isn't there a saying that goes if you love someone, set them free? Why the hell can't they do that for me?"

"Could you imagine letting the best thing in your life walk away? I don't know if I could do it."

I sighed and leaned my head on his shoulder. "Maybe it's tougher because I'm a girl. If I'd been a boy, they might treat me differently. Or if I weren't an only child."

"Maybe."

"And Dad
is
the protective sort. That's why he became a cop in the first place I guess."

His body went rigid. He didn't move for several long beats, and then he withdrew his arms from around me.

"Ben? What's wrong?"

He blinked slowly. "Your dad...he's a cop?"

"Yeah, why?" I bit my lip. I'd forgotten I hadn't told him. Forgotten that I hadn't
wanted
to tell him because I was afraid of his reaction. But whatever reaction I'd expected, it wasn't this shock.

A bad feeling congealed in my stomach and began to fester.

He gripped the side of the cart so hard his knuckles turned white. "I...I didn't know."

"Okay, but so?" Why was he making such a big deal of Dad being a policeman?

"Jesus, Kate, why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know." My voice sounded small, far away. "Does it matter?"

"I wish I knew." He jumped off the cart, grabbing his shirt, and strode to the exit. He stopped in the doorway and lowered his head.

"Ben? Are you all right?"

He sighed heavily then returned to me. "Yeah. I guess I just freaked for a second."

Who would freak out over hearing their lover's father was a cop?

A criminal.

I started to shake all over. I couldn't help it. It shouldn't matter what he was or what he'd done. I knew all along he was running away from something, and I should have guessed it was a crime. It didn't matter. It couldn't have been a big deal because he was kind and gentle and honest. That's all I cared about.

He put his arms up to help me off the cart, and I fell into them. Our bodies collided, and we held each other for a long time, our heartbeats synced. I buried my face in the hollow of his throat, breathing in the scent of him. He caressed the back of my neck and his lips warmed the top of my head.

It was a tender, beautiful hug.

A goodbye hug.

Chapter 7

The rain had stopped, leaving everything fresh and clean. Little rivulets of water flowed down the driveway, and fat drops hung precariously from the tips of leaves before succumbing to gravity. They reminded me of tears.

Ben and I walked side-by-side back to the house, not speaking. My heart hurt. Something had happened between us as we made love in the stables. We'd moved beyond lust to something more precious and rare. We'd connected on a deep level. I'd touched his soul, and he'd held mine in the palm of his hand.

Until I'd told him Dad was a cop. I felt like a crowbar had prized us apart and a huge wedge had lodged between us. He'd said that nothing was wrong, but I knew it was. I just knew.

We parted with sad, somewhat awkward smiles at the staircase. He went up to change and I sought out Jane. I found her in the kitchen.

"You're wet," she said, filling the kettle.

"Very observant, Einstein, what was your first clue?"

"Ha ha. Where's Ben?"

"Getting changed." I plopped down on a chair and buried my face in my hands. I didn't cry.

I was too numb for that.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I don't know. Nothing maybe." I lowered my hands and gave her a reassuring smile.

She sat opposite me. "Did you and Ben argue?"

"No. Not really. It's just..."

"What?"

I bit my lip. I felt traitorous asking this question, but I needed to know the answer. "Has Ben said anything to you about his past?"

"No. Why?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. It's probably nothing, but he freaked out when I told him Dad was a cop."

"What do you mean 'freaked out'?"

"He just kind of...went all tense and worried. Then he asked why I hadn't told him. It seemed to really matter to him."

She sat back in the chair and regarded me with a frown. "You don't think he's got a record, do you?"

I shrugged. "I don't know what else to think."

"Did you ask him?"

"No. It didn't feel right. I didn't want to seem like I was prying." I winced. "Do you think I should have?"

"Hell, yes! You've slept with him, and he's staying here under my roof. If he has a criminal record, I deserve to know about it and so do you."

She made me feel naive for not asking. Of course I should've asked, not for me but for her.

"You're right. I'll go speak to him now."

"Put some dry clothes on first. You're leaving damp patches all over the floor. Something in my wardrobe should fit."

Half-way up the stairs, I knew our conversation would have to wait. I could hear the groan of the bathroom pipes. He was having a shower. Before our conversation about Dad, I would have thought it would be okay to join him, but not anymore.

I changed into dry clothes in Jane's room, but by the time I'd finished, Ben still wasn't out of the shower, so I went downstairs instead. I found Jane and Mrs. M in the drawing room having tea.

"Good afternoon, Kathryn Bell," Mrs. M said. "I thought you'd left us."

"I had, but now I'm back." I picked up one of the spare cups and poured tea into it.

Mrs. M shook her head and sighed. "Did you learn nothing from your last stay with us?"

Jane hid her smile behind her cup. I made a show of pouring in the milk
after
the tea then adding sugar. "It would seem I didn't. But then again, I am a Bell. What did you expect?"

Jane's smile vanished, and she gulped down her tea. Mrs. M watched me with those shrewd eyes of hers. She couldn't have failed to notice that my hair was damp and I wore Jane's clothes.

Unless she had a screw loose. I wasn't convinced she had all her mental faculties.

"Hmmm," she finally said. She set her cup down and picked up her cane. She pointed it at me. "There is something not quite right about you. Something that's not very...Bell."

I barked out a humorless laugh. "What's that supposed to mean?" It was the rudest I'd ever been to her, but damn it, she deserved it and I was in bad mood. I'd only just realized how bad.

But it was better being angry than sad. Better to spar with this crazy mean old lady than cry my eyes out over Ben.

"I'm eighty-three, Kathryn Bell. I've lived a long time, and I've learned precisely two things about families."

Oh great. She was going to beat the Merriweathers-are-awesome drum again. I was about to get up and walk out, but Jane's stricken face kept me glued to my seat. She would have been mortified if I'd insulted her grandmother by leaving.