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“Wait, you aren’t her date for my wedding are you?” Maureen asks, interrupting our conversation.
If I wasn’t so mad at myself, I could kiss him when he glances at Maureen as if he forgot she was standing there.
“No.” I say just as Ben says, “Yes.”
“Well, which is it?” Maureen crosses her arms over her chest. She smirks at me like she caught me lying, enjoying herself in her victory.
I have to push away the errant thought of smacking that victory smile off her face.
“Yes, I’m taking her to your wedding.” There’s a gleam in his eye, and I hate to admit that it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
But, I can’t let him take me just because Maureen is asking. I appreciate it and all, but no one should be subjected to Maureen’s cruelty.
“You aren’t my date, Ben. Just go home.” I say, giving him a way out because I’m a good person.
“I am your date.” There’s determination in his voice, and I figure I’ll just go with the flow and let him off the hook later.
“Where do I know you from?” Maureen asks, tapping her manicured nails against her puff-filled lips.
“Ben, can we talk about this later?”
“Oh, we’ll be talking about a lot later, but I’m taking you to the wedding.”
“Wait. You’re the stripper. You’re one of the Trifectas.” Maureen smiles wide before bursting out laughing.
“I am. I’m Ben nice to formally meet you, again.” Ben reaches out his hand, playing the gentleman even though his teeth are grinding together.
Maureen glances at him through her lashes attempting to seduce him. Is she serious? Her hand lands limply inside of his, and I roll my eyes.
“My sister has good taste.”
I swallow the gag when she licks her lips, her hand lingering inside his.
“She does,” Ben says, removing his hand from hers before winking at me.
“So how much is she paying you?”
I gasp, barely able to stop myself from hitting her. I’ve wanted to smack the shit out of Maureen more than I can count since she came into my life, but this is the first time I can see myself following through with the thought.
“Maureen,” I say through my teeth.
“She’s not paying me anything.”
“Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. I was surprised when she said she even had a date for the wedding, but I should’ve known Clara would think of something, ever the sensible one.” She taps her temple with her forefinger.
“She’s not paying me to go to the wedding.” Ben’s eyes flash with anger, yet my stepsister doesn’t seem to be reading clues tonight. “Unlike you, who had to pay me and my brothers to spend time with you and your friends.”
It’s a low blow and I prepare for Maureen to retaliate. It is after all her favorite thing to do, oh wait, besides put me down and spend my father’s money. How could I forget those? Have I mentioned she’s not a very nice person.
“Oh, you must be paying him a fortune to get him to protect you like this.” Maureen runs her fingers over his t-shirt.
Ben steps away making her hand drop back to her side. “Clara,” Ben says, stepping toward me again.
“Don’t bother with her. In fact this is perfect,” Maureen says, maneuvering herself in between us.
“What’s perfect?” I ask, wondering what she’s up to.
“Well, you won’t look like my loser stepsister with him on your arm. And he’ll be at my wedding.”
“Clara isn’t a loser, and I’ll be the lucky one to have her on my arm.” Ben doesn’t bother looking at Maureen. His eyes are on me and only me.
Tingles shoot up my spine from the lust pouring from his eyes.
“Oh, you’re good.” Maureen giggles. I can’t believe how clueless she’s being. “I can’t wait to get a taste of you.”
Maureen’s statement breaks the spell Ben has me under.
“What are you talking about?” I ask her, confused.
“Well after the wedding Ben can show me how good it is to be with a married woman.”
“Maureen, you can’t cheat on Charles on your wedding night.”
“I can and you’re bringing me the perfect wedding present.” Maureen steps over to Ben plastering her body against him. “Why don’t you give me a preview?”
Ben grasps Maureen’s arms and picks her up moving her over.
“That’s not going to happen,” he says to her before pulling me against his body replacing Maureen. “I’m a dancer not an escort. There’s a difference.”
She laughs. “Semantics.”
Ben leans his forehead against mine. “We’ll talk later, Clara. I’m going to that wedding with you.”
And then, if he hadn't made me speechless already, he kisses me. This isn’t just any kiss, it’s hot and full of frustration. Forgetting about Maureen, I moan and cling to his shirt as he pushes his tongue inside my mouth, sweeping against my tongue.
My knees go weak.
My brain clouds over.
My insides melt.
