Shouldn't Be (9 page)

“That we’re going to dinner?” he teased.

“That we had sex?” she whispered.

“How could she possibly know that?”  He led her to the parking lot.  Not many cars remained at that time of the evening.  She didn’t realize he was leading her to his car, until they stood beside an indecently expensive automobile.  “Am I driving my car, or…?”

“Your car,” she agreed.  He pushed a button on his fob, and the doors opened upward.  “That is insane!” she exclaimed as he helped her inside, before he pushed the button again and the doors closed.

When they were inside and he had started the car, he turned toward her and asked, “Am I staying at your place tonight, or are you staying at mine?” 

She sat in stunned silence.  Alex had never spent the night at her place, and she hadn’t even seen his.  She assumed he lived in the dorms.  “What are you thinking?”

How did he know every time she thought of Alex?  She exhaled and said, “Are we ready for that?”

“Well, it’s just that I have this raging hard-on for you, and I think it’ll take one or two thousand more times having sex with you before it’ll go down.” 

His answer was the brightest smile he’d ever seen, from the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.  And it was good enough.  He revved the engine of the car, and put it in gear.  “Can you drive a stick shift, or will I have to teach you?”

“I don’t…”  She answered with wide eyes.

“You’ll learn, sweetie,” he said confidently, as he peeled out.

Chapter Eight

When they arrived at the restaurant, he handed over his keys to a valet.  She watched the car drive to the intersection, wait on the light, then turn left and disappear down the side street.  “Aren’t you ever worried that you’ll hand the keys over to that car and never see it again?”

“That’s what insurance is for, sweetheart,” he chuckled in her ear. 

She enjoyed the sound.  His voice was magical; she was immediately drawn in by it.  He would make an exceptional trial lawyer; no jury would stand a chance.  He would give his final arguments and the jury would probably give him a standing ovation.

He took her arm and led her inside.  She had no idea how he did it, but he found an upscale Mexican restaurant on the outskirts of the city.  She’d never heard of the place, much less eaten there.  But several couples waited on the front porch enjoying the summer evening, and the bar was nearly full.  He placed his name on the waiting list, and they took a seat at the bar.  He ordered a Mexican beer, and she ordered a margarita.

He gazed at her longingly, and after several moments took a sip of his beer. “So Mexican is your favorite, huh?” 

She shrugged.  “Ask me tomorrow and it might be something different,” she admitted.  “My favorites are fluid, like my taste in music.”

“Except no to Chinese,” he noted.  She got that faraway look in her eyes again.  He watched, but didn’t comment this time.  She was so easy for him to read it was almost unfair. 

“I like white rice,” she chuckled.  “Some of it is okay, sometimes I guess.”  The hostess called his name just then, and they were seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant.  She wondered if people turned to stare when they walked past, since she was with the son of Levi Aronson.  No one seemed to notice, though. 

“Tell me what kind of music you like,” he asked after they ordered. 

“I like pop, a little bit of classic rock, some eighties.”  She casually played with the stem of her glass, shyly hoping she’d said the right thing.  “But my favorite, to be honest, is you with your guitar.”  She looked up just then to see his reaction.  He tried to hide how happy it made him, but she could see that the corners of his eyes crinkled and his cheeks were a tad bit pink.

“Really?” 

“Umhmmm…”  He seemed shocked by her revelation, as if no one had ever told him that.  “You have the most amazing voice.  Do I have to keep telling you that?”

“Yes, you can keep telling me until I believe you.”  His fingertips found hers, and she knew he meant more than just his music. 

“Why are you so insecure?  You know you’re amazing.”  She opened her hand and allowed his fingers to play over her palm and the inside of her wrist.  She grinned at him as chill bumps rose over her skin.  “And you know what I mean.”

“It’s, you know, unhappy stories.”  He avoided her question, but he didn’t stop strumming his fingers over her skin.  “Normal young kid angsty stuff, too much to talk about.”

“We’re in the middle of waiting for dinner, we have nothing but time,” she challenged.  He pulled away from her, though, and returned to his beer. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”  He shook his head for emphasis.  “I was an ugly kid, but I eventually beat puberty.” 

“I don’t believe you.  There’s no way you were anything but an adorable kid.”  She dug into fresh chips and salsa, enjoying one of her favorite foods with gusto.  He watched, but didn’t join her.

“I was a fat kid.  I was teased pretty regularly.”  He had a melancholy tone.  She could tell he was hurt as a child, and possibly still carried some residual pain.

“But you’re so fucking hot now.”  She couldn’t emphasize it enough.  “Do you understand how hot you are?  I mean, you have eyes.  Don’t you look in the mirror and think, ‘Wow, I’m extremely attractive now’?”

“Quit,” he blushed.  He refused to say anything else, but his hazel eyes flirted outrageously.

Their meals were delivered, and she noticed that he only ordered a salad.  She ordered a little of everything, and she ate heartily. 

“Is that all?” she asked when he finished his salad and she started to slow down.

“Isn’t that enough?”  He ordered a glass of water while she finished eating. 

No, she wanted to say.  There weren’t a whole lot of kids who weren’t teased.  Being a redhead, she herself experienced plenty of it.  But there was something in his tone, especially before they had sex.  He constantly needed reassurance.

“Are you sure there’s not something else?”  She finished her dinner and her second margarita, and gazed at him as he struggled with her question.

“Shiksas,” he shrugged. 

“Should I ask,” she wondered.

“Probably not,” he shrugged, as he pulled out his wallet to pay the bill.

“I’ll pay for mine,” she stated as she grabbed her purse.  “I ate way more than you did.”

“You will not pay when I asked you out,” he countered, and handed over his card.

“That’s not fair,” she grumbled, “But thank you.”  She said it sweetly, and smiled brightly.

“You’re very welcome, shiksa,” he grinned mischievously.

* * *

“Let’s do it in the car,” Ruben practically begged.  One hand had already found its way under her navy skirt, the other tugged at the ponytail in her flame red hair. 

“I can’t stretch my legs out, and I’m barely over five feet tall,” she complained half-heartedly; his car really was incredible.

“I’ve had it for almost a year, and it needs to be christened.”  He pushed the seat all the way back, put the convertible top down, and patted his thighs for her to sit on them. 

“Do you think that’s all I need?” she asked with a grin on her face.

“Oh, I know exactly what you need,” he groaned, and opened the fly of his dress slacks.  “Come over here and get it.”

As she stared at it, it seemed to grow bigger.  She didn’t think it was possible.  “In the car?” she protested again.  But she was already trying to figure out a way to carefully climb into his lap, and not pull a muscle in the process.  Thank God for yoga.

“Take off your shirt,” he ordered.  “I like to see you in just your bra.”

“Ben.”  She whined it in three distinctly different syllables, and he loved every one of them.  He started to stroke himself as she unbuttoned her shirt.  “That’s mine,” she stated possessively, as she pushed his hand away.

He didn’t realize until that moment how much he wanted her to be possessive of him. He craved it.  He ached for her to exert her authority, as if she understood she already owned him.  “Do you want me?”

“You know I do,” she said, as she flung the shirt out of the car.  It landed on his garage floor.  As she scooted into his lap, her breasts were shoved right into his face.

“I love your boobs,” he said, as he leaned forward to nibble them. 

“Ow!” she exclaimed, but didn’t move away.  “Why do you have to bite me all the time?”

“I’m marking my territory, sweetie.”  He sucked her pale skin into his mouth as his hands rubbed over her thighs and up to her ribcage.  “So you won’t let anyone see this skin but me.” 

“How in the hell do you do that to me?”  The jolt of electricity she felt up her spine only intensified with every encounter.  Her body’s reaction to him increased with the knowledge of his prowess.  The more he made her orgasm, the more she wanted it, and her body knew it somehow.  “How do you say things that should make me angry, but they totally turn me on?”

“Why would my being jealous make you angry?”  His hands guided her body against his.  He loved the feel of her silk panties against his cock, but needed the feeling of being inside her even more.

She looked away for just a moment, and thought of Alex.  Alex hadn’t returned yet from his “basketball camp”, so she hadn’t confronted him about their relationship.  She didn’t even know what to say to him.  “Sorry, I’m fucking my boss,” just didn’t seem appropriate.

“Don’t fucking think about him,” Ruben spat out.

“About whom?”  She returned her gaze to his hazel eyes.

“I have no idea,” he groaned.  “Don’t think of anyone but me.”  His fingers weaved their way inside her, and her lips quivered as she exhaled. 

“I’m going to ruin your pants,” she said into his neck, as the tension inside her became unbearable. 

“That’s what dry cleaners are for.”  His tone was casual, although a little huskier than usual.  He withdrew his fingers, as if he had a fetish for torture.  “Tell me why I should make you cum, counselor.” 

“Fuck Ben, why do you do this to me?” she groaned.  She was on his lap in his Italian sports car, parked inside his garage.  She was half naked, and way past aroused.  And he had to continue to play with her.  She wiggled against his huge manhood, and he moaned loudly.  But when she reached down between his legs, he grabbed her hands roughly and held them behind her back.  She was trapped in the most awkward position, and she was exactly where she wanted to be.

“You know why, Kaitlyn,” he whispered into her ear, then bit her earlobe.  “Because I need to know how much you want me.”

“Jesus, you know I want you,” she murmured. 

“Then why do you still think of him?” he pressed.  “Do you still want him?”

“If you only knew.”  Her words were ragged; aching with a level of desire that she had never experienced before Ruben Aronson came into her life.  She’d never had such intense orgasms with a man before him.  And he was jealous of Alex?

“Tell me,” he insisted.  His fingers lightly traced the top of her bra.

She shuddered as she whispered, “Please, Ben.”

He jerked her ample breasts free, not caring if he ripped the expensive garment or not.  “I want to know why you still think of him.”  He flicked at both nipples with his tongue, then grabbed them both and pinched them.  “Tell me.”

“He’s small,” she yelled after several moments.  “It’s hard as hell to get him turned on, and most of the time he can’t keep an erection.”

His fingers lessened their pressure, and his tongue returned to lap at her hard, sensitive buds.  “I don’t believe you.  There’s no way a man could be alone with you, and not ravish you.”

“You’re not ravishing me,” she reminded him. 

He let her nipple pop slowly out of his mouth and sighed, “Yet.”  He pulled a condom out of his pocket, and tried to slide it on in their precarious position.  “Remind me why I should make you cum.”

“Because you have me so turned on, if you don’t do it, I’ll do it myself,” she teased.

“We’ll do it here, and then I’ll bend you over the hood.”  He held his cock at the base, and she moved around until she had it right where she wanted it.  “Then I’ll carry you upstairs to my bed, and we’ll do it again.  And after that, if you still need it, you can do it yourself.”  He grinned up at her as she lowered herself onto his cock.  Then he closed his eyes, shivered, and took her nipple again into his mouth.  Her moans echoed around the garage, and he didn’t try to smother them.

“Let’s see if you can make yourself cum with my cock,” he challenged.  “Get yourself off, sweetie.”  Her hands grabbed the supple leather of the seat, and she used it to pull herself up and down on him.  “Come on, Kaitlyn, you can do it.”  He bit and sucked her breasts, her nipples.  “If you don’t cum, I will.” 

He was at the point he where couldn’t hold it back any longer.  Watching her, tasting her, feeling her tight around him, was just too much.  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat.  She bent forward and kissed him, hard and desperately.  They groaned into each other’s mouths as they reached their climaxes together.

She rested against his chest for several moments.  His zipper cut into her inner thigh, and the steering wheel pressed into the small of her back.  He rubbed her shoulders and the back of her neck gently with his calloused fingers.  She felt like she could stay just like that forever. 

* * *

He really did do it again with her bent over the front of the car.  Her hands were braced against the hood, and his hands were all over her as he pounded into her from behind. 

“This is the best,” she moaned, as he seemed to find that spot inside her and hit it every time he entered her.  “You’re so good.  You are the best.”  She didn’t even know what she was saying.  She just needed him to know it.

“It’s all you sweetheart.  It’s all you.” 

After he reached another earth-shattering orgasm, he picked her up and carried her upstairs so they could cuddle in his huge bed.  “Where are we going?” she asked.  Her eyelids were heavy, but her smile was captivating.

“Wherever you want to go, love,” he whispered as he carried her inside. 

“I have to go home,” she sighed as she snuggled against his bare chest.  Both of them had discarded their clothing onto his garage floor.  “I have to go to work in the morning.”

“You’re so precious, love.  I’ll tuck you in and give you something to make you sleep,” he chuckled.

“Surely you aren’t ready to do it again.”  Her words grew gradually lower.  Her eyes were barely open, and her hand rested on his chest.  He’d wanted her in his bed for weeks, and now he was going to wake up with her there.