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Then Ben walks in the room.
“I’m getting refills. Somebody worked me into an appetite.”
I force a smile as he scoops more chili into his bowl. “You want some dessert? I think I’ve got some cookies left from when my sister and Danny were last here.”
“No, I’m good. Maybe I should use the bathroom.”
“You know where it is.”
I make a beeline down the hall and into the bathroom, closing the door. I start to lock it but realize that’s overkill.
I unwrap the blanket from my body and fold it neatly, setting it on the counter. I use the toilet and wash my hands, grabbing a washcloth from the towel rack. It looks like it’s been used but I’m too tipsy to care. I wet it and wipe my face and the coolness helps me to feel more centered, in control. I’m trying to decide how much of myself I want to reveal to Ben. Maybe I need to see if he’s even planning to stick around in my life. I think of Rigger, and I can almost hear what he’d tell me.
Don’t you fucking dare say a word, Vay. Not a fucking word.
But Rigger doesn’t know. Hasn’t witnessed the progression of events.
And, I’ve only given Ben breadcrumbs. The highlights.
That doesn’t even shed light on all that’s there.
I start to grab the blanket and wrap myself up again. But then I end up leaving it on the counter and walking back to the living room. I pause at the end of the hall, taking a few moments to watch Ben as he points a remote control at the television, clicking through a playlist of music on Spotify. He stops at some throat metal and it’s not loud, but he bobs his head a few times to the beat. God he’s adorable. And I could be wrong, but he looks happy. Or at least content. I’d like to think I have something to do with that.
When he sets the remote back down he dips a huge corn chip inside his bowl and comes out with a mound of chili, head still bobbing back and forth.
I walk back into the room and stand in front of him and he looks up at me, eyes dragging over my body in a way that is palpable.
“Damn,” he groans, dropping the chip back in the bowl. “I didn’t think you could look any better than you did in my bed but I was wrong.”
A smile tugs at my lips and he shoves the coffee table aside with his foot.
I straddle his lap, feeling the roughness of his clothes brush against my soft thighs. He cups my ass and grins up at me.
“What are you thinking right now?” I ask.
Hands glide up my back, stopping in my hair. He closes a fist around my strands and puts his mouth on mine.
Okay. Question asked and answered.
He grows hard again between my legs and I respond by encouraging him with slow rolls of my hips. His mouth moves down my neck, one hand cupping my breast and toying with my nipple.
I huff, need burning inside of me. I feel completely insatiable right now as Ben kisses the small dip in my neck, right behind my ear.
He lets out a soft moan, then speaks. “Did you mean what you said?”
“About?” I murmur, body tingling.
“Being a serial killer?”
I pull back, look him in the eyes. His pupils are huge, but his gaze travels to my breasts.
My heart drums a few times. I lick my lips and he glances back up at me.
“You don’t have to be scared of telling me the truth. I have connections at the Phoenix P.D. I’ve heard about the men who’ve dropped dead like swatted flies over the years.”
“Wait. You …what?” An iciness settles over me. Did he just say he had friends who were cops?
He moves his hands to my hips. “I like this vulnerability in you, right here, right now. Naked in my lap like this.”
