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Chapter twenty-three
Mikaela
“Follow me.”
Ben is moving before I have a chance to think. I stumble forwards, my heels making it hard to follow his long strides down the stairs and out into the open air, and glance back to the night unfurling in the room he’s just hauled me out of.
No one noticed him drag me through the open glass doors. No one glanced over when I gasped and fell into the darkness. And I find myself grateful no one had seen; grateful no one seems to notice us tearing through the hotel grounds now, as Jamie’s celebrations rage on behind us both. Grateful even Max’s watchful eyes were preoccupied elsewhere and missed the flush of my cheeks as soon as I had felt Ben’s hands on my skin.
“Ben,” I grunt, my heels sinking beneath me. “Slow down.”
He pauses in the misty glow of string lights wrapped around the trees beside the pond, raking his eyes over me, and I shudder. There’s something dark and demanding in the set of his jaw and the gleam in his eyes and my heart throbs as my breathing hitches.
“Ben?”
He smirks as he pulls me closer, his fingers spreading over the small of my back, pinning me against him as his eyes trail over my lips, my neck, my chest.
“You know. I think I might kill Asher Jones.” His voice is low and throaty, but the smallest hint of amusement trickles in and it sends shockwaves rippling through me. His other hand releases my wrist and his fingers trail up from my hand to my shoulder, brushing my hair back gently and lingering at the back of my neck as his jealousy fades and something else takes its place; something that steals my breath away.
“He touched you, right here.” His voice drops to a whisper as his other hand moves to my hip, squeezing gently and pulling me close. “And I hated it.” His fingers dance down the column of my spine, leaving heat where his touch has been, and he leans in slowly, his lips grazing my ear as I hold my breath. “Watching him flirt with you, all I could think-”I whimper as his hand slips between the thin material and my skin right at the top of my thigh and his lips finally caress my neck.”-Was how much I wanted to be him. Touching you. Holding you. In front of everyone.”
His kiss dances across my skin between every sentence. Behind us the music throbs and the distant conversations float on the wind, but I don’t care. That fire, that desire, is coursing through my veins and he is slowly scraping his fingers up my thigh, pulling the slip of my dress with him. A twig snaps close by - probably a party goer who’s wandered outside - and my eyes open as his lips continue to move across my jaw.
“We - we can’t.” The moan that escapes me only pushes him further. “I - what if - what if someone sees us?”
His fingers still, achingly close to that tantalisingly lustful spot that craves him more than I want to admit to myself, and he whispers against my skin.
“Do you want to stop because someone might see, or because it’s me?”
It all comes down to this. Now. All of the secret kisses and stolen seconds together, all of the hiding and testing and waiting. It all boils down to this question. Ben needs to know if I want him.
“I - I -” I can’t think. He’s still touching me. The heady scent of him invades every word, every argument. Ben is touching me. And rule number one is about to be completely and utterly destroyed. “We…”
“Mikaela.” His teeth nip my skin and I yelp as warmth pools deep within. “I need you to tell me if the problem is me, or them. Because, I promise, I will stop if it’s me.”
His tongue swipes across the sensitive spot he has just bitten and I sigh as his fingers tighten on my thigh.
“Them,” I breathe. “The problem is them.”
Ben
I smile against her skin, my heart pounding and my head spinning. That damn dress is to thank for this. I want her and I am so tired of slow.
“Okay.” I pull away quickly, leaving her bereft and wanting. Part of my brain is caught on the way her breathing is so heavy that she can hardly function, another part of it is planning our escape. “Then let’s go.”
She seems flustered as I take a step towards the line of cars parked in the driveway and she doesn’t move.
“Mik.”
“Where?” She watches as I move back to her side, my hand coming up to cup her face gently, a smile ghosting my lips before I lean in and kiss her. I kiss her tenderly, savouring the way her lips meet mine, gently and tentatively. Like one kiss might make this all disappear. Because this is a very fragile line we are choosing to cross now.This makes it real.
Pulling away from her, I catch her hair between my fingers, twisting it as I stare at her. “Somewhere we won’t be caught.”
She just blinks at me as I smile and roll my eyes. How, in the name of all things holy, is this what leaves her flustered? It’s adorable.
“The problem isn’t me, correct?”
Mikaela huffs as she glances back to the party we just left, our colleagues and friends continuing on as if the world isn’t shifting on its axis.
