Page 22 of Benefactor


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“I didn’t know you had a little sister. Where’s your bed?”

“Um,” I say, biting my lip. “That is my bed.”

“Oh,” he says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s fine,” I say, going over and knocking the Care Bears onto the floor. I climb in and pull the covers back for him.

“I can’t let your first time be in this bed, in this room, with your parents just down the hall.”

I shrug. “I didn’t say to get naked. I just said I wanted you to be in my bed.”

He smiles, and even in the dark, I can see his voluminous eyebrows are raised with mischief. He peels off his jacket and tie, then kicks off his shoes and trousers.

I can’t help but giggle at him. “Do you ever walk around in anything besides a jacket and tie and Italian leather shoes?”

“Yes. I had on my summer linen pants and I have a seersucker set for when I have to attend functions down south in the summer.”

He crawls in next to me. I shift to lie on my side and he rests his hand on my hip to my delight.

“No t-shirts?”

“Of course I wear t-shirts…under my button-up shirts. Only philistines wear dress shirts without undershirts.”

I run the flat of my hand over his chest and he emits a sigh. “You know, you’re kind of like a baby alien,” I say.

Rushmore brushes a lock of hair out of my eyes. “What does that mean?”

“A very beautiful baby alien. It’s like you’ve been raised on another planet,” I joke. “You don’t know what breakfast burritos are, or t-shirts. I’ve never seen you in jeans. I’m willing to bet you’ve never been camping or fishing.”

“I know how to ride a horse. Is that down-to-earth enough for you?”

I giggle and drop the subject.

“What about you? What do you do for fun?”

“Basically hang out with Addie, eat pizza, and watch reality TV. I read science fiction. A lot of it. I spend a lot of time alone, so if it’s not TV, I have my nose in a book. I always wanted siblings but that’s not going to happen. I don’t like wall art with words, especially ‘Live, Laugh, Love.’”

He chuckles softly and kisses me on the nose. “That is one thing we have in common.”

“I don’t like parties,” I continue. “But I love performing.”

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry I dragged you to Ridley’s party. That was presumptuous of me.”

I gasp teasingly and pat his chest. “There’s that human side that I like so much.”

He grins and combs my hair with his fingers, his eyes studying every inch of my face. “In that case, what other human things would you like to know about me?”

I jut out my chin sassily and tell him, “I’d love to know if you’re a good tongue kisser.”

Rushmore’s mouth is on mine in an instant. His lips are strong and assertive but tender and attentive. He wastes no time in licking the seam of my lips, and I open to him right away.

The sensation of our tongues dancing together heats every cell in my body faster than I would have thought possible.

His grip nudges me closer to his body. It feels somehow reassuring being at eye level like this. He’s not my sugar daddy—excuse me, “benefactor”—when we’re like this. It feels like we’re equals.

My hand explores his hair, his scruffy cheeks and chin, his ear. His starched collar is in the way and my hands scramble at his top buttons.

“What are you doing?” he asks breathlessly when he breaks the kiss.

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