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Marta’s words spun inside my head—all of the stories and accusations of illicit behavior with drugs and sexual inappropriateness. Even if I left here tonight untouched, how could I bring this forward? For one, he was family. His sister would no doubt take his side over mine. And then there was the pesky truth that I had in fact been an escort.
“I have plans. Sorry.” I clicked Control-Alt-Delete on my keyboard and locked it, not bothering to wait for it to shut down. “I really have to go. I just sent my friend a text to let her know I’m on my way.”
I rounded my desk and shimmied by them to get to the door. Luckily, they didn’t stand in my way.
I bolted from the office, straight to my car. I climbed inside and locked the doors, breathing for the first time since Scott and his posse had walked into my office.
With shaky hands, I dug my phone out of my purse and sent Everly a text. And I lied. I told her that something had come up and I had to stay even later at work. I felt awful. I never lied. Especially not to Everly. But I needed to be somewhere…anywhere I could be a basket case without questions. Without judgment. Everly was my best friend, but she’d know something was wrong right away and demand answers. Like a dog with a bone, she’d keep at me, when all I wanted to do was forget. And there was only one person who could help me forget.
Ben.
I made the drive to his house north of the city in record time and said a silent prayer when I turned into his driveway that the rumble under my tires was a rock and not a small animal.
I rang the doorbell, pressing it five or six times until the ring was a continuous blare in my head. Then I knocked. I needed to see him. To calm the uncontrollable shake that seemed to have hijacked my body.
As soon as he opened the door, he smiled. “Grace. I’m so happy you’re here.”
A feeling of safety washed over me and I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He didn’t hesitate to return the affection. He held me tight as one hand found the back of my head, the other cupped my ass, pulling me up. I squeezed my legs around his waist, never wanting to let go.
I liked to think that he had been waiting for me to show up even though I had declined his offer. That he’d been sitting around thinking about me, about us, and how absolutely undeniable the chemistry was between us.
But that was just a fantasy. The sex was real. Dirty. Hot. Consuming. But the emotions attached to it, the ones I had promised myself I wasn’t going to feel, were slowly creeping into my psyche and I just didn’t know what to do with them.
“You’re shaking,” he whispered into my hair. “What happened?”
I shook my head, almost as fast as the terrified quiver inside my bones. “Later.”
Talking wasn’t what I needed right now.
Right now I needed Ben, in the only way he knew how to give himself.
I smashed my lips against his, the softness and warmth of his hands on my body exactly what I had been craving. Exactly what was going to make me forget all about the encounter, all about my past.
The next thing I knew we were upstairs and kissing furiously on our way into his bedroom. My lower back banged up against something when I stumbled over the threshold. I groaned, pulling my mouth away, then cursed.
“You all right?” Ben pressed his hand to my spine, massaging his fingers on the exact spot that throbbed.
My nod was all he needed to keep going, resuming the utter annihilation of my lips.
He slid my coat over my shoulders and I ripped my arms through the fabric, slamming it onto the carpet. My hands reached for his cheeks, pulling him down so I could press my lips to his again. My heart thundered in my chest. I couldn’t get enough, close enough, hard enough, intimate enough.
He went to work on the rest of my clothes and ripped open my blouse, the buttons snapping and popping on the floor and furniture. But when I looked up, he was already hiding himself, his eyes fixated on my breasts.
He whirled me around, pressing me into the dresser. And when he looked up, our eyes met in the mirror. He sucked in a hard breath against my ear. Had he forgotten about the mirror? I nuzzled the back of my head into him, letting him know I was ready. I was always ready for him.
But he pulled away, pressing his palm to my back and pushing me down until my breasts hit the top of the dresser. Once again he was hiding from me. Purposely removing the intimacy from our encounters, for reasons he wouldn’t acknowledge. Reasons I might never get to know.
With my palms flat on either side of me, I settled in; the cool wood was refreshing against my cheek and stomach. He stepped away, walking over to the nightstand to grab a condom. The strip he pulled out was enough to satisfy the needs of any porn shoot. My stomach clenched. I wasn’t naive. I knew I hadn’t been the one to pop Ben’s cherry, but the thought of him with other women made me crazy. And I had no right to be, considering the circumstances. Considering my history.
So I blocked it out. I was here to forget. I was here to obtain the one thing I’d been searching for the last few months. Release.
And Ben was definitely a pro at giving me that.
But my determination to keep my distance flew out the window the moment his hand pressed my back. The warmth of his skin ignited something inside me I couldn’t manage to tamp down.
He traveled up my back to my shoulders, moving the strands of my hair to the side, exposing my neck. He made up for turning me around when his lips found the base of my neck and he kissed his way down. He released the zipper of my skirt and it fell, pooling around my ankles at his gentle tug.
Today I wore a garter belt and thigh-high stockings, which Ben took the time to admire when he kneeled, his hands roaming over my ass and thighs, singeing every inch of exposed skin. One hand slipped between my legs, massaging my clit through the lace thong, but it was too gentle.
