“That’s where I live!” I shout, pointing. I have the attention span of a gnat right now. I’m like a dog that’s spotted a squirrel.
“I know.” Ben is amused.
“How do you know?” I realize now he never answered my question.Sneaky Benjy.
“Because I live across the street. I’ve seen you walking home.”
I look at him like I’m seeing him for the first time. Ben lives this close to me and I didn’t know? He really is so mysterious.
I’m oddly disappointed to be home; I wish we could keep walking. He’s so... not his usual self tonight. It’s unexpected. Pleasant. I can almost pretend he’s a normal guy I’ve met out somewhere, some strong, dashing, and witty fellow with big, sexy muscles that—who knows—I may get to feel up when I get home.
I really must be drunk. Sexy?Pah.Ben is not sexy. Ben is my adversary, a dangerous opponent I’d do well not to underestimate. The man who’s currently carrying me like a newlywed groom is the same one who promised to make my life a misery just a few weeks ago. Ben is not a nice guy.
Though he seems to be doing a very good impression of a nice guy tonight.
He continues to hold me as we walk into my building and onto the elevator and all the way up to my floor, which seems a bit like overkill, but who’s complaining? When we reach my door he sets me down gingerly, keeping one arm anchored around my waist. I fish through my purse for my keys, then hand them to him to unlock the door.
I look up at him dreamily. “This was very nice of you.” I’m clinging to his arm like a toddler with separation anxiety. As he fumbles with the lock, I place my hand over his, halting his progress.
I graze my fingers from his wrist slowly up his arm, stroking the muscles visible through the thin fabric of his lovely shirt-sweater. He’s so warm, and touching this man has become my sole desire, my only focus, our feud be damned. I let my hand blaze a trail up his arm—biceps, triceps, deltoid—feeling every curve of his incredible physique. When Ireach his shoulder, I pause. There is really something to be said for these huge muscles.
His whole body has stilled. “Kate. What are you doing?”
It’s the same low, suggestive voice he used earlier, and I’m quivering at the sound all over again. There’s a dull ache in my stomach that’s getting sharper and heavier by the second.
“I’m not doingannnything,” I say, my own voice slurred with desire and intoxication. I’m afraid he’s going to stop me, so I slide my palm over his collarbone to his chest before he can, appreciating his well-defined pectorals, the heat radiating from his rib cage. My hand winds a slow, meandering path downward, exploring the miles of firm torso beneath my fingertips. I brave a glance up at him, and he’s staring at me intensely, his eyes alert and blazing green.
I hum in contentment. “Your eyes are so very green. Like a green light. Green means go.”
I step forward unsteadily, finally allowing myself to do something I’ve desperately been wanting to: I stare up into his eyes, examining them with unabashed curiosity and concentration. They’re deep and fiery and so arresting I wonder how anyone can look at him without being reduced to ashes. It’s like staring into the sun.
“Did you know they glow? Especially when you wear green. Do you do that on purpose so I’ll notice?”
He closes his eyes. “Kate. Stop.” His body’s gone completely rigid.
“Stop what?”
My voice is breathy as I continue my hand dance, my fingers stroking a slow perusal down his abs until I hit the waistband of his jeans. I’m very close to his bare skin and all my horny brain can focus on is finding out if it feels as good as I think it will. I go to raise his shirt a little.
Ben’s arm shoots out and he lifts my hand from his waistband, gently placing it back at my side. A lungful of air shudders out of him as hesteps back, holding me at arm’s length like he needs to put space between us. Of course,nowhe chooses to leave room for the Lord.
“You need to get inside and drink some water.” He’s staring up at the ceiling as if searching for something.Come back, eyes.
“Don’t be a spoilsport. I was just admiring the view,” I grumble.
I can barely stand upright anymore—I need to get these heels off likeyesterday—and I sag against him, resting my head against his chest. His resulting half-hug embrace envelopes me completely, and for the first time, I appreciate how ideal his size is. He’s the perfect cushion, a comforting pillow of hard and soft. It’s impossible to feel anything but safe and protected in his arms, surrounded on all sides by strength and masculinity. His hand goes to my lower back, tangling in my hair, and I feel his deep intake of breath under my cheek.
He turns back to the lock. In my drunken haze it looks like his hand is shaking, but it’s probably just my swaying vision. My eyesight isn’t exactly reliable right now.
He switches on the lights and I’m nearly blinded. I throw my elbow over my eyes. “Nooo. Too bright.”
He flicks them off, then fumbles around, looking for a lamp, presumably.
“Ahh, home.” I kick off my shoes and throw myself in the direction of my couch but end up whacking my head on the back of the frame instead. It makes a sickening cracking noise.That was graceful.
A table lamp flicks on. “Jesus, Kate, are you okay?”
Ben kneels in front of me, his expression anxious. He reaches behind me, his thumb gently skimming a path along my scalp, searching for a bump. Everywhere he strokes, my skin burns. I want more touching, more of his hand. I nudge my head into his palm like a dog looking for a nuzzle.Real subtle, Kate.
