The Bottom Line (13 page)

The incessant sound of an old-fashioned telephone ringing woke Mallory. She was lying on her back, staring at the cathedral ceiling of her bedroom, but she barely remembered getting home. Blinking a few times, she tried to clear away the lingering medicine haze.

The ringing droned on.

An alarm?

Not one of her clocks. They all buzzed. Her cell’s alarm was an annoying three-tone chime.

Where was the sound coming from?

Ben’s scent and warmth still surrounded her, pushing aside the rest of her confusion. He’d stayed the night, making sure she got home and to bed, which was the only place she belonged when taking painkillers. Her heart warmed to his gentle care and how he’d assumed the role of her protector. With a vicious finality, she drove away the last thought of how she might become a burden to him. She was healthy now. And she’d continue to regain her strength. Soon, she’d be whole—would have restored to her what cancer had snatched away—and be able to share with him the intimacy she needed. They could make love.

Why wait?
If Ben was truly the man for her, shouldn’t he love her, scars and all? Judging from his passionate kisses, he would be on board for becoming lovers. Heaven knew she was ready. Past ready.

So why not now?
Why not find out once and for all if he was telling her the truth, the truth he gave such importance? Why not show him what she looked like before the reconstruction so she’d know if Ben was just another Jay?

Her heart told her he was different, that Ben wouldn’t run away when the going got tough. He deserved to know everything about her, and she desperately needed to show him and see his reaction.

Baring her scar to him took on a new importance, and though she hated to admit it, she would be testing him.

Please let him pass that test.

The ringing had to be his cell phone, and it thankfully quieted. If it was a typical alarm, it would sound again soon. If he’d missed a call, he could return it later. What she didn’t know was whether it was a call or an alarm. Maybe he needed to get up early.

Mallory was loathe to wake him up. He snored softly, and she loved having him so close. If she tried, she could almost pretend he was hers and that she could wake up exactly like this every day. The security of being in his arms was something she could easily learn to depend upon.

He lay on his stomach, his arm draped over her chest. When it dawned on her there was no pain, she breathed a relieved sigh. Exactly as the first time the surgeon had blown up the stretcher, the agony left as quickly as it had arrived.

Slowly rolling to her side, she eased his arm down to her waist and stared at his face, squelching a sigh of contentment so she wouldn’t wake him. Light brown stubble covered his cheek and chin, and her fingers itched to trace the shape of his jaw. His mouth was open ever so slightly. All the worry lines were gone, and he looked at peace. His hair was getting a little too long, and it was mussed in a way that made him appear as though he were resting after a satisfying romp in bed.

She wanted to run her palm over that heavenly butt. Whenever he bent over while working, she had to squeeze her hands into fists to keep from groping those round cheeks. She’d been deeply in lust with him from the moment he took her in his arms to dance. That lust gave her courage, letting her lightly rub his lower lip with her fingertip.

Ben woke up smiling. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.”

He smoothed his hand over her hip, making her suck in a breath as his touch sent her heart into a faster tempo. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.” His brows knit. “How you feelin’?”

“Good. Pain’s almost gone.” The way he scowled made her add, “Really. It’s almost gone. The truth, remember?”

Instead of replying, he moved to face her, tugging on her waist until their groins were pressed together.

He had an erection. Mallory would have found it flattering if she didn’t know from experience that guys woke up hard most days. But then Ben gently drove his hips forward to rub his cock against her.

“I want you,” he murmured a moment before his lips captured hers.

The kiss started out gentle, like a whisper. Her heart smiled when he let out a low growl, put a palm against her ass, and pressed her harder against him at the same moment he thrust his tongue into her mouth.

Kissing him was like taking more Vicodin, making her feel as though she were floating. She grasped his tongue with her teeth, gently tugging. His growl made her whole body flush. The kiss grew, filling her with an urgency she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Her core flooded with heat as her breast tingled. Funny, but she could almost feel a tickle in her left breast, too.

Sexual need guided her actions as Mallory stroked across his hip to slip between their bodies. Then she rubbed her palm against his hard cock.

Ben broke off the kiss, groaned, and rested his forehead against hers. “You’re killing me, Mal.”

That made no sense. “Why?”

“Because I want you so bad I’m about to jump you right now.”

“Who’s stopping you?”

“Dad?” Amber’s sleepy voice called only a moment before his cell alarm sounded again.

He dropped his head back against the pillow and groaned again.

Mallory rose over him to brush a quick kiss over his lips. “What’s the alarm for?”

“Amber’s with her mom today. She’s supposed to pick her up at nine.”

She glanced to the clock. “Then you two better get going. If you want a shower—”

With a shake of his head, he sat up.

She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

When he finally broke away, they were both breathing hard. “I need to go. But how about I bring back breakfast?”

“I’d like that.” Mallory flopped back on her pillow and tugged the blanket over her legs. “I’ll just lounge around in my nice, warm bed ’til you get back.”

“Dad?” Amber’s footsteps sounded on the hardwood of the hallway. She knocked on the bedroom door. “Are you up?”

“Yeah,” Ben replied. “Go get your shoes on and we’ll head back home.” He smiled at Mallory. “Anything special? Donuts? Pastries?”

“I’m good with anything.” If he was going to the trouble to bring back breakfast, he had to believe they were going to end up in bed again. Just to be sure he understood what she wanted, she decided to be bold. “Do me a favor, Ben?”

He quirked a tawny eyebrow.

“Come back with at least two things?”

“What two things?”

Mallory tossed him what she hoped was an inviting smile. “Coffee with extra cream and a hard-on.”

* * *

Ben was speechless the whole drive home. Since Amber was quiet, probably because she hated being with Theresa all day, he didn’t have to try to fake a conversation. Whatever he said would probably come out nothing but babble anyway. The only thing on his mind was Mallory.

Had she meant it? Did she really want him to go back to her place and make love to her? Maybe he was reading too much into her words.

Coffee with extra cream and a hard-on.

How could any man possibly misinterpret
that
? It was an invitation, the same welcome he’d seen in her smile.

“She’s actually here.” Amber’s words pulled him from his pleasant reverie.

Theresa was standing by her vintage POS, leaning her ass against it while she took a long drag on the cigarette—a habit she’d dropped while they were married—she cradled between her fingers. She was dressed in a clinging, low-cut shirt and jeans that had rips and tears, as though she were young enough to get away with a teenaged look. A quick glance at the dashboard clock told him she was on time, probably for the first time since he’d met her.

Sweet Lord, had he actually been married to this woman?

She pushed away from the car, dropped the cigarette, and ground it into the concrete with the toe of her shoe. Folding her arms over her breasts, she glared at him as he pulled Mallory’s SUV into a parking spot a few spaces away.

Killing the engine, Ben stared at his daughter. “You ready?”

Amber nodded.

“She needs to have you back by eight.”

“By seven. I have homework.” She glanced to her mother and then frowned. “Maybe six would be better.”

“I thought you told me you got your homework done.”

“So what? I have other stuff to do, too.”

He sighed. “If you tell her you have homework, I won’t rat you out.” The court order gave Theresa ten hours every other Sunday. Not that she wanted more, and half the time she showed up late if she bothered to show up at all.

Amber crawled out of the Escape, slamming the door behind her.

Ben rolled his eyes. His daughter didn’t show her temper often, but when she did, she was a slammer or a thrower. Since there weren’t any glasses handy, she’d inflicted her anger on Mallory’s SUV. It was tough enough to take it.

Theresa stepped up to his side of the Escape, her scowl hot enough to melt the window.

Although he had nothing to say to her, he lowered the glass because she clearly had something to say to him.

Might as well get this over with…

“Where the fuck did you get the money for a new car?” she demanded as if she had any right to know anything going on in his life. “Where’s the fucking truck?”

“It’s sitting right there.” He pointed to row of autos parked under the parking canopy, where his ancient Ford waited.

“So you’re bitching at me all the time about helping pay for the kid’s stuff and you’re out buying whatever the fuck you want?”

Refusing to answer would be childish. Tempting though it was to let stew in her curiosity, he said, “It’s not mine.” Too late, he realized what a big can of worms he’d just opened.

“Who’s it belong to, then?”

“Mallory,” Amber replied as she went to her mother’s side. “Where are we going today?”

Theresa didn’t even bother to acknowledge her own child, the one she always called “the kid.” She was far too busy shooting daggers at Ben with her angry blue eyes. “Who the fuck is
Mallory
?”

“She’s none of your business,” he replied.

She shifted her gaze to Amber. “Who’s Mallory?”

“She’s a friend of Dad’s,” Amber replied as she gave him a pathetic glance.

“Friend? What kind of
friend
? A fuck buddy?” Theresa’s tone dripped with disdain.

Ben bit his tongue hard enough he could’ve drawn blood. Since Theresa saw nothing wrong with hopping from bed to bed, she was dumb enough to assume everyone else did as well. His life had ceased to be any of her concern the day they’d signed divorce papers, and he wasn’t about to let her taint what was growing between him and Mallory with her snide insinuations.

“Shouldn’t you two get going?” he asked. “Amber needs to be back early enough to finish her homework. Maybe by suppertime would be good.”

“I can keep the kid out as long as I damn well want.”

He wasn’t about to get into a pissing contest with the queen of the harpies. He’d learned from experience the more he protested, the harder Theresa dug in her heels.

Like a two-year-old.

“Where are we going?” Amber asked again.

“Out” was all Theresa said in reply. Then she popped a pack of cigarettes out of her purse, tapped one out, and held it between her fingers as she pointed it at Ben. “If I find out you’ve been fucking this Mallory bitch when the kid’s around, I’ll have you back in court before you can blink. The kid can come live with me.”

An empty threat. Theresa didn’t want custody of her daughter any more than she wanted a sexually transmitted disease. But where Amber was concerned, Ben wasn’t about to take any chances. Hopefully Amber was bright enough not to share anything about what happened last night with her mother.

“I hope you two have a fun day.” Ben wished he could spare his daughter the ordeal.

“Let’s go.” Theresa grabbed Amber’s arm and dragged her away.

Ben would have told his daughter to call him if she needed anything, but that would alert Theresa that he’d gotten Amber a new cell, which she’d undoubtedly take. The best he could give Amber was a smile that told her he’d be happy to see her when she got home and that he’d do his best to soothe away any hurt Theresa inflicted.

She hadn’t changed. Not much. Her face had aged, probably because she tended to spend a lot of time in tanning beds. Her language had gotten worse. She’d always had a habit of cursing—something he used to do more often before Amber was born. Now it seemed like his ex tossed an f-bomb every other word.

As Theresa drove away, he couldn’t help but compare her to Mallory. Dark and light. Mallory’s brown hair and brown eyes so in contrast to Theresa’s peroxide blonde and ice-blue eyes. Yet his dark lady had the soul of an angel while the fairer woman had a heart as black as night.

Mallory waited for him, and he dismissed his ex from his thoughts. If it weren’t for Amber, he’d never think about her again. He had more pleasant things to consider like the invitation, the
challenge
, Mallory had tossed at him before he left.

Should he run inside and take a quick shower? Brush his teeth? Grab some cologne?

No.
Mallory wasn’t the kind of woman who’d want him to go to so much trouble. He could get one of those one-brush toothbrushes when he stopped by the store for some condoms. Although she’d only specifically asked for coffee, he’d bring along breakfast, too. No healthy food. Donuts with icing and sprinkles. His lady had a sweet tooth she tried to hide. He would indulge her.

Ben fired up the engine and headed toward Dunkin’ Donuts. He needed to get some coffee.

The hard-on wouldn’t be a problem.

Mallory stayed in bed for a good, long while, wondering if she could follow through with the sensual promise she’d made Ben.

She’d never been shy where sex was concerned. Being coy or cautious wouldn’t bring a woman any satisfaction, so she’d always been vocal about what she wanted. Some guys might find that a bit brazen, but she refused to fake an orgasm just to stroke some guy’s ego. Not that she’d had a lot of lovers. Five, to be exact. Yet she’d taught each of them to be conscious of a woman’s needs, telling or showing them what they could do to please her.

Would Ben like that? Would he appreciate her open attitude about sex? Would he be the kind of man who felt intimidated by a strong, assertive lover?

Standing right next to that concern was the one about how he’d react when he saw her chest. Mallory had a little more shape now thanks to the stretcher, but the scar remained, appearing an angry red next to the pale white of her skin. And there was no nipple.

Since there was nothing she could do to change it, at least until the reconstruction, she refused to let a stupid scar be an excuse to put Ben off. She’d tossed the challenge at him, and she had every intention of following through.

Condoms.

There wasn’t a single one in the house. When Jay had finished fetching his stuff, Jules had helped Mallory purge the house of any reminder of him. He’d left behind everything from condoms to cologne to a ratty pair of boxers. Every bit of it ended up in trash bags to be hauled away with the rest of the garbage, except for the love letter he’d written her and a couple she found to another woman. She and Jules burned them while toasting each other with Diet Cokes.

She’d never expected to need condoms again, especially not after the mastectomy.

Maybe Ben would remember. He seemed rather savvy where romance was concerned, so he had to practice safe sex. Although the thought of him in the arms of another woman turned her stomach, she was honest enough with herself to acknowledge he wasn’t the kind of man who had trouble attracting female company. No doubt he’d been… active since his divorce. Surely he’d remember to pick up a pack of Trojans. There wasn’t an abundance of places to get good coffee in Cloverleaf, but there were two CVSs and three Walgreens in the small city. Grabbing some rubbers would be simple.

Good heavens, she was going to make love with Ben.

Mallory scrambled from the bed to brush her teeth, slap on some deodorant, and comb her hair. She was just coming out of the bathroom when she heard the garage door rising. Her heart jumped in her chest, pounding hard and fast as excitement raced through her.

This is really happening.

Should she jump back on the bed and try to take a seductive pose? Should she just strip and let him get a good look so he could call an end to their romp before it truly began? Should she throw herself at him the moment he walked through the bedroom door and not give him a chance to turn her down?

She’d never been so nervous about making love, not even when she’d lost her virginity. That rather awkward affair had taught her that it was better to be honest with a lover about what she liked or didn’t like rather than leaving the bed unfulfilled. And she always made sure her partner was every bit as satisfied.

But what about Ben?

What if he wasn’t ready to be intimate?

Judging from his wide eyes and open mouth when she’d told him to come back with a hard-on, she’d shocked him. But he hadn’t said a single word. He’d simply blinked a few times and then… left.

Don’t be an idiot. What kind of man turns down sex?

A good man who might think she’d made her offer out of some sense of gratitude for taking such good care of her. Ben could easily make that kind of assumption. He would never accept her invitation if she couldn’t convince him she was sincere in her passion, her desire.

With a shake of her head, she pushed her troubled thoughts aside. What would happen would happen. Overthinking it would only ruin the experience. She focused instead on how wonderful his kisses made her feel and how much she wanted to praise his body with her hands and her lips.

“Mal?” he called.

“Coming!”

Mallory raced down the stairs, trying to figure out what Ben had shouted back because his words had been muffled. She skidded to a stop in the kitchen, chuckling at what was before her.

Ben had two cups of coffee, one in each hand. A donut with chocolate icing and multicolored sprinkles rested on the lid of one cup. His words had been hard to understand because he’d cradled a cruller between his teeth. An open box of more donuts rested on the counter.

When he tried to speak again, she laughed and took the cup and donut from his hand. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

He bit off a good section of the cruller and smiled as he chewed.

“Slow down or you’ll choke,” she cautioned.

“Wanted to bring you breakfast in bed,” he said through his full mouth.

“That’s so sweet.” The donut smelled wonderful, so she took a bite, letting the chocolate fill her senses.

“Good?”

She nodded with a little hum.

“Wasn’t sure if you liked flavored coffee, so I chose something fun for you.” A quick sip of his own ended with a stream of “hot, hot, hot” as he fanned his mouth while holding his half-eaten cruller.

Instead of burning her own tongue, Mallory took a bite of her donut. But her curiosity was killing her. What had Ben chosen for her? Hazelnut? Caramel? Chocolate? She sniffed the steam rising through the small opening in the lid.

“French vanilla.” He took the cup from her hand and set it next to his, which now rested on the counter. “Far too hot for you to drink right now.”

“We should probably let it cool for a little bit.” She nibbled on her bottom lip.

Ben took her hand and tugged her closer, wrapping his arms around her. “How’s the pain?”

“Gone.”

“Will it come back? I mean… I don’t want to hurt you or anything.”

She shook her head while her pulse did a little giddy-up at the note of concern in his voice.

“I did as you asked,” he whispered before pressing a quick kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I got the coffee, so my job’s done.”

Teasing had always been one of her favorite things, and she loved that he was keeping the moment light. “But you won’t even let me drink it.”

“I told you. It’s too hot.”

“I believe I asked for one other thing.” Mustering up her courage, Mallory fit her hands between them, smoothing her palm over the front of his pants. His erection strained the front of his jeans, stretching the buttons on his fly. “Oh my. It appears you paid attention and got
exactly
what I wanted.”

“I always listen to my clients.”

“As much as we pay you? You should.”

He snatched up the small CVS sack that sat next to the donut box. Before she knew it, he’d shoved it in her hands and swept her into his arms.

* * *

While he normally loved trading witty banter with Mallory, Ben wanted nothing more than to get her naked, needing the skin-to-skin connection to prove this was really happening. The way she’d caressed his cock had him wound as tight as a spring, and the time had come to make her completely his.

He hurried up the stairs, heading straight to her room.

She hadn’t made the bed, making it easy for him to lay her on the sheets. Then he came down on top of her, stretching out as he pushed her legs apart with his knees to nestle his pelvis against hers. Tangling his fingers through her hair, he smiled down at her. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

“Every bit as long as I’ve waited. So shut up and kiss me.”

Brushing his lips over her, Ben took his time, wanting this to last forever even as he wondered how he could possibly take things slow. Everything inside of him was screaming to get her clothes off and bury himself inside her as he’d imagined doing a million times.

No way.
Mallory deserved a patient, giving lover. The woman was the kindest, sweetest creature he’d ever known. He’d make love to her. Slowly. Gently. Deliberately.

Even if it killed him.

Holding himself up on his elbows he stared down into her eyes. Such pretty eyes that sparkled with life. And passion. “You’re so beautiful.”

A blush tinted her cheeks.

“Doesn’t this feel great?”

“
More
than great,” Mallory replied in a breathless whisper.
“Perfect.”

He shook his head. “Not yet, it’s not. But I’m going to make sure it will be.”

Pushing back, he crawled off her to kneel on the mattress. His fingers opened the first button of her shirt, the same one she’d worn to Chicago and slept in all night. A second opened. A third.

Mallory put her hands over Ben’s. “Wait.”

“Wait? Why?”

“Are you sure you want to see… everything?”

He cupped her cheeks. “You don’t need to be afraid.”

“But—”

He gave her a kiss full of everything that was in his heart—his passion, his desire, his need.

His
love
.

Ben didn’t stop to examine his revelation. Yes, he loved Mallory Hamilton. He loved everything about her, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. And now he needed to show her.

When he pulled back, her eyes searched his. She gave him an almost imperceptible nod.

Slowly he finished unbuttoning her shirt, then he spread it open, revealing a white camisole. He helped her sit up and shrug out of the shirt before tossing it to the floor.

To level the playing field, he jerked his own shirt over his head. It landed on top of hers. He ran his palms over her shoulders and down her arms, raising gooseflesh in his wake. Her skin was smooth and white as a china doll’s. Touching it was sheer joy, the type he’d never known before.

His own fault. Sex for him had always been by-the-numbers. A touch here. A caress there. He knew how to help a woman feel pleasure and bring her to climax. None of his lovers had been unsatisfied.

Yet as he made love to Mallory, he realized
he
hadn’t been truly satisfied. The time he’d spent with other lovers was like a fast-food meal. Filling and satisfying, but leaving… something wanting.

Being with Mallory was a feast of prime rib that he intended to savor.

He wanted this to last forever, but he also found himself in uncharted territory. Never before had his feelings been so entangled with his body. That separation was what had made all of his past affairs so cold.

After briefly clasping hands and then pinning her wrists to the sheets, he reached for the hem of her undershirt. As he tugged it up and over her head, she lifted her arms to assist him.

He didn’t look, instead doing his best to hold her gaze until the fear in her eyes slowly died. Only then did Ben allow himself to see what cancer had done to his Mallory.

The scar ran from under her armpit almost to her sternum. While the red stood out like a beacon against her pale skin, it wasn’t anything extraordinary. Just a scar, no different from any other. The only true difference was the significance of why it was there and what it could mean to her future.

Banishing his worries, he focused on easing her fears. He pulled her up until she knelt in front of him. He put his hands on her hips and nuzzled her neck, pressing kisses to her skin, loving her scent and the way she shivered. He trailed his lips downward, kissing her collarbone and the valley between her breast and the stretcher before touching his lips to the gentle slope of her scar.

Mallory threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged. “You don’t have to—”

Ben lifted his head and kissed her once. “Hush.” Then he brushed his lips over her scar.

She choked out a sob, so he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him. “What’s wrong?”

She wouldn’t answer him.

“The truth, Mal.”

“You aren’t repulsed?”

Easing back, he grabbed her hand and flattened her palm against the front of his jeans.

A gasp slipped out before she rubbed his length.

“I want you, Mal. I don’t give a shit if you’ve got a scar. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

“Kiss me. Kiss me and I won’t think about it.”

“Whatever the lady wants…”

* * *

When he kissed her, Mallory could forget her worries. All she could do was feel, and she wanted to drown in each sensation. His tongue tickled her lips until she opened up to him. The kiss made heat shimmer over her skin, swirling until it settled in her core and created a need she knew had to be fulfilled.

She fumbled with the buttons on his waistband and fly. They each gave up the battle until she was able to shove the jeans over his hips.

He broke away long enough to crawl off the mattress and peel the garment down his legs. He dropped his boxers and kicked off his socks.

He was built like an athlete. All muscle, not an ounce of fat. His pecs were covered with brown hair she was dying to touch. A thick, rather intimidating cock rose from a nest of dark curls.

Ben smiled as he snaked an arm around her waist and lifted her off the bed.

Mallory started to pop the button on the waistband of her khakis, but he pushed her hands away. “Let me.”

He quickly had her pants off. After he dragged her pink panties down her body, he bent down to take off her socks. Rising to his full height, he put his hands on her shoulders, held her at arm’s length, and stared at her. His eyes raked her from head to toe with a lazy speed that could only be deliberate.

“Damn,” he finally said.

She quirked an eyebrow, stopped by something in his tone. While she didn’t want to think poorly of Ben, that one word frightened her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That means I’m the luckiest man on the planet.”

“Make love to me, Ben Carpenter.”

“I love how bossy you are.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

He scooped her into his arms and set her in the center of the mattress before coming down on top of her again. “Damn.”

His skin was hot against hers, his body so hard—everywhere. “Damn right.”