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I want to lie to him.
But I don’t.
“No, it never got that far.”
My face burns. I dare to look into his eyes. They are so dark and bottomless I feel as if I’m being pulled into them. I expect that he’ll be laughing at me. Instead he reaches out and touches a soft curl of hair that falls over my right shoulder. He winds it around his finger and a light tickling in my belly explodes into a firestorm. Ben Beltran might be a prick most of the time but my hormones don’t know any better.
“Why not, Camden?”
“Maybe I just didn’t like them enough.”
Ben nods. His hand drifts down to my thigh. “Do you like me?”
I like the touch of his hand. I’m not sure about the rest of him. “I don’t know.”
He finds my answer amusing. “I don’t know if I like you either.”
I swallow. “That’s fine.”
“Yeah, it is. People don’t have to like each other for this to feel good.”
I’m torn. The things Ben says aren’t exactly romantic. They are worse than that. They are true.
And I want him more with every word.
I can only whisper. “I might agree with your last statement.”
A vague smile from him. Then he looks me over and frowns. “It’s not cold in here.”
I don’t know what he’s really trying to say so I simply bob my head.
“Take your vest off.”
His hand hasn’t left my thigh. His fingers toy with the hem of my dress. I can hear my own heart pounding in my ears as I remove the work vest and toss it to a shelf. I could have easily squirmed away from his touch in the process but I don’t want his hand to stop. His fingertips now stroke my skin, edging higher one agonizing centimeter at a time. I loosen my knees in the hopes he’ll keep going. This is nuts. I’ve never even kissed this guy and here I am opening my legs for him, sliding closer so that he can push his hand higher, biting my lip to stifle a groan when I feel his fingers travel high enough to touch my panties.
Ben knows exactly what he’s doing. He understands what will make me react, which buttons to press. A flash of jealousy strikes me because I know he’s done this to other girls. I don’t want him thinking of them. My fingers fumble with the zipper at my back and then I slowly undo my dress. I allow it to slide to my waist. He sucks in his breath when he sees my powder blue bra. Then he reaches behind his head and yanks off his sweatshirt. I fight a gasp over the sight of his broad chest, his muscled arms. He watches for my reaction and for an instant he smirks because he knows that I like what I see. He folds up his sweatshirt and stretches to place it on the bench right behind me.
“Lay down,” he orders.
I want this.
Whatever is about to happen, I want to do it.
And so I obey.
I swing one leg over and my knees are now apart, one leg on each side of the bench as I roll backwards until my back touches the pillow of his folded shirt. I don’t stop him when he gets between my legs and pushes my dress higher, up over my hips.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he says and he’s breathing hard as his head dips down. I feel the flick of his tongue on my belly, and then lower.
“Wait.” I push him away. “Don’t.”
He stops, surprised. “You don’t want to?”
“Um.” I squirm, wondering why words have to choose this moment to fail me. “I want to do things with you, Ben. I’m just not ready for that.”
He doesn’t argue. He nods and sits up. “Okay.”
Maybe I should feel ridiculous, lying here on a grimy bench in my birthday dress with my legs open. But Ben is touching me again and I don’t know how to feel anything but a powerful need to have more of him. I can’t stop myself from moaning when his thumbs travel up the sides of my thighs and meet in the middle. I know my panties are damp and I arch my body in an effort to drive the pressure of his fingers. It’s so good, so much better than when I touch myself this way. I gasp with shock when his finger slips inside my panties and then sigh with pleasure when that same finger slides inside me, just barely, just enough for me to bite my lip and shudder. My eyes have been closed and now I open them to see him staring down at me with intense concentration. Then he smiles and my chest tightens. Deep inside of me there’s a slow rising tide and I want to let it carry me along and yet I hold back because I’m doing this with Ben Beltran and I’m not sure what to think of Ben Beltran and I don’t want that to matter but part of me whispers that it should.
