Deep (9 page)

“I don’t think so.”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t take your request to talk seriously before. Let me make it up to you.”

He ignored me.

Pity those around us didn’t. They giggled and pointed and carried on like we were a damn comedy act. But did anyone think to try and help me? No.

People.

“I’m trying to be reasonable here!”

“I know.”

“Which is pretty fucking mature of me, given I’m upside down talking to your ass, Ben!” I growled in frustration, slapping at his rear one more time just for fun. Had ever a man been born so bone of head and firm of butt? I think not.

“Keep that up, I’m going to start giving it back to you,” he warned. “And my hands are a hell of a lot bigger than yours, Liz.”

“You are such an asshole.”

“You know, you act all cute, but you’ve got a mouth on you when you get riled up.”

“Bite me.”

“It’s late, Lizzy. Time for bad girls to go to bed,” he said.

“Aw, Ben. If you were having trouble scoring, you should have just said so. We could have worked something out.”

His laughter was low-down and dirty. “That’s real accommodating of you, sweetheart.”

“No worries. I think it’s a damn shame a big strong hairy rock star such as yourself has to take to kidnapping women out of bars to get any.”

Cool air hit the back of my thighs as the skirt of my dress was raised. Teeth grazed over my soft skin in warning, his breath coming dangerously close to warming pertinent areas. Or maybe that was just my imagination. Either way, time to freak right out.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I screeched, wriggling around.

Arms tightened around me and the sharp teeth were replaced with his lips. “Stop squirming.”

“Stop being such a bastard and put me down.”

“You said to bite you.” The idiot tittered.

Whatever. Simple people are often easily amused.

Hell I was a long way up. It was a little scary. Down a fancy hallway we ventured, the sound of slot machines and the faint stink of cigarettes indicating the massive gaming room had to be somewhere near. Next, a glossy elevator with an ad for some show, playing on repeat. The foolish man had left his wallet sitting in his back pocket. At last, some entertainment. Why not, since I was along for the ride?

“Who’s Meli? And…” I held the next scrawled-on piece of paper up to my face. “Crap. I think it says Karen. I don’t think you should call Karen for a good time. The poor girl can barely spell her own name. Hey, mind if I borrow your credit card?”

The Neanderthal dipped and my feet once more met the ground. He held onto my elbow with a strong hand. A good thing because, whoa, my head spun around and around as the world slowly righted itself.

“Give me that,” he growled, snatching the wallet out of my hands and stuffing it back into his pocket. “Stop acting like a brat.”

“I’m acting like a brat? Are you serious?”

“Saying you’ll talk to me later, then disappearing.”

I snorted. “Because hearing more of your excuses sounds like such a good time.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Bullshit,” I said, hands on hips. “Go find someone who wants to play your games, Ben.”

“Fuck.” He turned away, mouth all scrunched up. “I wanted to apologize, okay?”

I watched and waited.

“I miss you, Liz. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He seemed sincere, eyes all tortured. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay. But I still can’t do it.”

His gaze searched my face. “You can’t what?”

“Be friends with you.”

He said nothing.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re lonely and you miss L.A., but I can’t. I have feelings for you and I can’t just put them away because you’re not prepared to go there.”

He pressed his lips tight together, hard enough to turn them white. Then he turned his back on me.

“Ben?”

Silence.

“For what it’s worth, I missed you too.”

The elevator pinged and the doors slid smoothly open.

“Thanks for the lift.” I wandered out, fishing my room key out of my bra ever so subtly. He’d been right. It probably was time to call it a night. At least I’d gotten some dancing and a drink or two in. I’d seen some of Vegas for myself and Anne and Mal were happily married. All in all, a highly successful trip. So why did it feel like I was being broken open because of him one more time?

Ben trudged along behind me, saying nothing. He could do as he pleased. Obviously. It was around midnight, give or take. Today had been long, with all the wedding preparations, and last night had been a late one, with my birthday celebration. Fact was, bed sounded like a damn fine idea actually.

I opened the door to my penthouse suite and stepped inside. Everything was marble and mirrors and splendor. The curtains were drawn back, displaying the Strip all lit up. A thing of beauty.

“Wow.”

The moody man mountain leaned his butt against the table, legs spread wide and muscular arms crossed over his chest. What he did to me. I never stood a chance. My heart went
boom
and my body woke right the hell up. The temptation to go climb him, to touch him and taste him, was too strong. He needed to leave.

“Shouldn’t you be off hitting up Karen or Meli or whoever else passed you their number?” I asked.

“You jealous?”

I tried to smile. I’m pretty sure I failed. “What would be the point?”

He just gazed at me, his blank face a mystery. Hell, all of him a mystery. One I would never solve.

“You can leave,” I said. “I won’t be going out again.”

The man crashed down on the couch. “Give me a break. I’ve been chasing you all over town for the last few hours.”

Again and again. Whatever.

Beyond the open living and dining room lay the bedroom. A mother of a bed. You’d pretty much want to pack a lunch if you were going to try and cross the thing. More flower arrangements and fancy furniture. The bathroom was equally huge and majestic. Two baths, for some reason. Wild. I wandered up to one of the basins, studying the girl in the mirror. Not bad. Pretty enough, if not beautiful. Hopefully the bulk of the time she had half a brain in her head and a promising future ahead of her.

But in the meantime the updo needed dealing with. Then I could get down to scrubbing all the makeup off my face. Maybe I’d even test-drive one of the tubs.

Ben appeared in the doorway with an open beer in his hand. Another of the buttons of his white shirt had been undone. Such a bull of a neck. No god damn idea why that worked for me.

“I take it you’ve decided you’re staying?” I reached back, searching for the first of what would no doubt be many, many hairpins.

“You mind?”

“No, I give up. But what would Mal say?”

“I’ll crash on the couch,” he said, ignoring my question entirely.

I continued duking it out with the do.

“Let me help.” He stepped closer, setting his beer down. Dark brows drew in a ways as he gave my hair a good glaring at. Then, with careful fingers, he gently tugged free his first pin and tossed it onto the counter.

“Thanks.”

Without comment, he kept on with the job while I watched. Weird. I barely came up to the guy’s shoulder, even in my high heels. The width of him dwarfed me. I wasn’t particularly tiny or petite, being basically average everything. But with him standing behind me I looked like some small, dainty thing. The guy could crush me one-handed. Hell, he’d done a pretty good job on my heart from afar.

“Don’t know why you do all this,” he said. “It looks just as good down.”

My eyebrows rose right up. “I didn’t know you noticed.”

Nothing.

I stole a sip of his beer. A fancy German one in a big shiny green bottle. Hoppy. Nice.

“Don’t need all that shit on your face, either.” He took the beer off me and had another swig before returning to tending my hair. Our gazes met ever so briefly in the mirror, then his darted away. He took a deep breath, got busy.

“Thanks. I think.”

A shrug.

My fingers toyed with the edge of the counter, nails flicking back and forth. A nervous habit. He shifted slightly, moving a little closer. I could feel the heat of him at my back, the solidity of him.

“Maybe I should do this myself,” I said.

“You’ll be here all fucking night you try to do it by yourself. How many pins did they stick in this thing?”

“I lost count after the first dozen or so.”

He worked for a while in silence. Yeah. Awesome. Not awkward at all.

“Happy Birthday for yesterday,” he mumbled in a rough low voice. More pins were tossed onto the counter.

“Thanks.”

Carefully, he started pulling sections of my hair free, letting them fall down my back. The intent look in his eyes, the absolute focus as he did it, nearly killed me. What the hell was going on here? Talk about mixed signals. Maybe I’d have a cold bath, ice, the whole works. It would take at least that to put out the fire in my pants.

“Happy Twenty-Ninth Birthday for before Christmas,” I said, voice wavering. “I, um … I know I was there for the dinner, but…”

“But you were avoiding me.” The edges of his mouth slid into a smile. It seemed self-deprecating somehow. Definitely unfunny.

“Yeah.”

He stared at me in the mirror. And then he stared at me some more. God, I wish I could read him. Just for a moment even. I wished I could touch him even more.

“Funny,” he said. “We were only texting, but I got used to it.”

“Me too.”

“What do you want for your birthday?” he asked, changing the topic abruptly.

“Ah, nothing. You don’t need to buy me anything.”

“I want to get you something. So what do you want? What do you need?”

Him and him with his heart on his sleeve. “The handle on my canvas satchel broke the other day. Guess I could do with a new one of those, if you wanted to get me something. But Ben, it’s really not necessary.”

“A satchel. Okay. What else?”

“Nothing else. Thank you. Just a new satchel would be great.”

He shook his head. “Most women would be asking for diamonds.”

“Ben, I don’t like you because you have money. I like you because you’re you.”

His thumb stroked over the back of my neck, there and gone in an instant. Perhaps it was an accident. “Thank you.”

I plucked a pin from my hair, taking over the job. “We better get this done. It’s late.”

“I got it,” he said, focusing on my hair once more.

“Okay.” God he was beautiful. Why did I have to go nuts every time he came near? Just once it would be nice if I could not play the fool where this man was concerned. “I think maybe you should leave. I think I need you to.”

Thick fingers removed another pin, like I hadn’t said a word.

“Why are you here?” I reached back behind my head and grabbed his wrists, stilling him. “Ben?”

“Because apparently I’m shit at staying away from you.”

“Then I guess we have a problem.” Our fingers meshed, holding on tight.

“That’s putting it fucking mildly.”

My eyelids started blinking like crazy for some reason. “I warned you not to flirt with me again unless you meant it.”

He didn’t answer, just released my fingers and went back to playing with my hair, running it over the back of his hand, laying it over my shoulder. Such a stern look on his face, the frown embedded on his sharp features. My hands fell back to my sides.

And call me a blundering fool, but I was going there again. Apparently I would never learn. Hair half up, half down, and the buzz from the margaritas fading much too fast to help fuel such bravery. Damn it. I looked crazy—and hell, I probably was. Who are we kidding?

“Hey.” I turned, cupping his cheek with my hand. The bristle of his beard felt amazing, sort of soft and yet not quite. Even more amazing, he wasn’t stopping me or drawing back.

“Talk to me,” I repeated.

“Fucking hated seeing that guy all over you.”

“What? In the bar?”

A jut of the chin and he went back to examining my hair, carefully extracting another pin.

My hand slipped down, fingers skating over the side of his warm neck. The skin was so soft and smooth. “If it makes you feel any better, I pretty much want to scratch Karen and Meli’s eyes out with my bare hands. But that doesn’t change the situation here.”

The edges of his mouth turned down.

Fuck it. I edged forward, getting closer, leaning into his broad chest.

No.

No.

Apparently the dude seriously liked my hair. Because something in his pants was definitely making its presence felt against my stomach. The fire in my pants turned into a blazing inferno. I’m surprised we weren’t both incinerated on the spot. Everything low in me tensed, my thighs getting weak and strung out all at once. So this was what being really and truly fuck-me-now-or-I’ll-die turned on felt like. And yet, leaning into the heat and strength of him, I also felt perfectly safe.

Just not from rejection.

“Ben?”

“Hmm?”

“What is this? Do you know what you’re doing?”

“What I shouldn’t be doing.”

He slid his hand down my back, drawing me in firmly against his erection. Oh yeah. I dug my fingers nails into his neck, holding on tight. If he tried to ditch me now, I’d kill him. No joke. Death by hairpins. It would be messy but highly necessary.

Lucky for him, he didn’t.

“I mean it,” he said, voice devastatingly low but certain. So beautifully, perfectly certain.

“Okay.”

He covered my hand with his, holding it against his skin. The small acceptance of me touching him turned me on almost as much as the heat of his body. I rocked against him, rubbing myself against his erection.

The man swore up a storm. “Fuck, Lizzy.”

“What a good idea.” My heavy head lolled to the side and his hot mouth was there, sucking, licking, and biting. My blood ran hot, racing through me at the speed of light. His teeth sunk just a little into my skin, making me moan. Then his hand slid down, cupping my ass through the silk of my dress, fingers digging in. And this was all nice, really nice. But I wanted to kiss him so bad.

“Let me…” I stretched up, looping my arms around his neck, dragging his mouth down to mine. Once, twice, he grazed my lips with his. The fucking tease. And I had no control over him at all because, “You’re too tall!”