Take Me Under (17 page)

With a wicked smile on his lips, he tossed a few of the foil packets on the bed by her hip and got rid of her tank top. She thought he’d take her then, but he obviously wasn’t done playing, his teasing smiles and husky laughter driving her wild. Her blood was like fire in her veins, skin so hot she was surprised she didn’t steam. The way he turned and positioned her in increasingly shocking, erotic positions, her body open and exposed to him, both physically and emotionally, was more seductive than anything she could have ever imagined.

With his clever fingers playing between her legs, and his mouth dragging kisses across her stomach, he said, “I can’t get enough of this. Having you under my hands and mouth. You’re so soft inside. So sweet. It’s like touching a piece of heaven.”

“I didn’t know you were spiritual,” she murmured, a dreamy smile on her lips as she ran her fingers through the thick, silky locks of his hair.

He lifted his head, locking that molten gaze with hers again. “I’m not. But I’m thankful as hell for you.”

She gave a dry laugh. “Wow. With lines like that, no wonder you get laid so often.”

Reese knew the words were a mistake the instant she said them. He immediately jerked away from her, a pissed off look in his eyes as he knelt between her legs and scowled. “What the fuck was that for?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, biting her lip. “I wasn’t trying to piss you off.”

He snorted. “Really? Because it felt like you just launched a fucking grenade in my face.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s like I have this . . . I don’t know, some kind of defense mechanism that just kicks in.”

“Well next time try not to kick me in the face with it.”

She probably didn’t look very graceful, but she managed to scoot back and brace herself against the wall, grabbing a pillow to cover the front of her body. Feeling ashamed, embarrassed, and more than a little frustrated, she said, “I’m sorry that I said what I did, but it’s not easy when you . . . when you say things like that to me. I thought this was just meant to be about sex, and then you go and say something that completely messes with my emotions and it confuses the hell out of me. You can’t have it both ways, Ben. That’s not how it works, and I don’t appreciate you playing games with my head.”

“I’m not playing some stupid game with you,” he ground out in a raw voice, muscles bulging with tension as he shoved a hand back through his hair, his huge cock still rock-hard and straining toward his navel. “I’m just trying to be honest with you. I’m trying to tell you that being inside you, that having any part of my body inside yours, feels different than it’s ever felt for me before. And I want the chance to enjoy it. So stop worrying everything to death and just fucking deal with it.”

Slapping a hand against the mattress, she demanded, “And exactly how am I meant to
deal
with it?”

“By lying back and letting me do what I want. By giving in and just enjoying yourself. By just . . .” He broke off, making a hard, thick sound of frustration. “By just lying back and letting me make you feel like the goddamn queen of the universe! Is that so fucking much to ask?”

If he’d been facing a mirror, Ben had no doubt that his expression would be just as surprised as hers. He didn’t say things like this to women. Ever. If he was in bed with a woman, he expected to get as much as he gave. An even physical exchange, keeping the balance, with as few emotions involved as possible. But it was so different with Reese. God knew he loved having her hands on him, and her hot little mouth. Loved it more than anything he’d ever done with any other woman. But he fucking
craved
giving her pleasure. Touching her. Tasting her. Sinking deep inside her.

And he was done with this maddening conversation.

Pulling her back under him, Ben ripped the pillow out of her hands, shoved her legs apart and went back down on her, burying his face against the drenched folds of her cunt. “You make me feel like a goddamn addict, Reese. I can’t ever get enough of you—even when you make me so fucking mad I could spit nails.”

She fisted her hands in his hair, holding him to her as she arched in pleasure. “Are you going to punish me for it?” she gasped, her breath catching as he gave a wet, voluptuous lick to her clitoris, then softly suckled.

“Maybe,” he grated. “In fact, I just might fuck you until you can barely walk. Until every breath makes this tight little pussy ache.” He quickly sheathed himself in a condom and moved over her, his dark eyes drilling into hers as he forced his way inside . . . then started to move, pumping himself into her with those thick, heavy lunges that made her tremble and cry out. Putting his mouth close to her ear, he said, “I’m going to ride you raw, baby, but you won’t care. It’s going to feel so good, all you’ll be able to think about is getting me back inside you. Keeping me here, packed up tight and deep, screwing into you so hard you go hoarse from your screams . . .”

And that was exactly what happened. By the time Reese could open her eyes, they’d gone through two condoms, the storm had already passed, and she felt deliciously well ridden, but surprisingly refreshed. Climbing out of bed, she definitely felt a few twinges and aches as she slipped on a T-shirt and jeans. But after such an onslaught of pleasure, she was buzzing with too much adrenaline to stay indoors.

“Come on,” she said, the wrecked, raspy sound of her voice putting a silly grin on her lips as she walked to the end of the bed and ran her finger along the bottom of his foot. “Let’s go for a walk on the beach.”

He yanked his foot away with a grunt, definitely ticklish. “Get your ass back in bed,” he grumbled, his impressive cock finally taking some downtime as he rolled to his back and stretched. “It’s time for a nap,” he added, his eyes already closed.

“But I love going outside after a storm,” she said, moving to the side of the bed so that she could get a better look at him. She wished she had the guts to snap a picture of him like this, his hard, outrageously masculine body sprawled across her white sheets, tanned skin stretched tight over all those mouthwatering muscles. Swallowing to clear the lump of lust in her throat, she went on, saying, “And we could watch the sunset together. It’ll be fun.”

“You’re just saying that because you got to sleep all day,” he groaned, covering his face with a pillow.

She gave a soft laugh. “I did not. And I don’t want to go by myself, but I will if I have to.”

“Can’t you just stay here?” he asked, glaring when she tugged the pillow away, tossing it to the foot of the bed. “You’re forgetting that I’m older than you.” A sexy smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “I need sleep if I’m going to keep up with your man-hungry appetites.”

“Hmm . . . you do make me hungry.” She smiled . . . and ran the tips of her fingers up the inside of his muscular thigh. “If you come with me, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

Shaking his head, Ben gave a low, gritty laugh. “You already think you know how to control me, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” With an impish grin on her lips, she used her fingertip to draw little circles on the top of his thigh that were driving him crazy, the confidence he could see in her flushed expression and those bright eyes somehow making her even more beautiful than she already was.

Knowing he didn’t stand a chance in hell against her, he surrendered with a rumbling groan of defeat. “Fine, I give in. I’ll drag my wrecked ass out of bed for you.”

And Ben was glad that he did. There was something to be said for walking on the beach after a storm, the air crisp and cool, with a beautiful woman at your side, her hand in yours. And when she smiled . . . Christ. He could get drunk on it, on that sweet curve of her mouth and the tender warmth in her eyes. And those damn freckles. It didn’t matter how many times he kissed them across her nose or her chest, or between those sweet little thighs, he just wanted to do it again . . . and again.

When the wind started to pick up, they finally turned and began to head back. There were already a few bonfires going, most of the groups college-aged, though a few were made up of older couples. He was cutting a quick look over the groups, just to make sure nothing looked like it was going to get too out of hand, when something caught his eye.

Apparently sensing his tension, Reese squeezed his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“That guy over there,” he rasped, distracted, his focus on the tall, dark-haired male who was standing off to the side of one of the groups farther up the beach. He was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, like most of the other men, but he didn’t look like he was there to kick back and relax. His vibe was too alert. Too focused. And while he’d looked away the second Ben had spotted him, he could have sworn the bastard had been staring at Reese.

“What about him?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before, but I can’t place it.”

“Maybe the barbecue on Saturday?”

He cut her a sharp look. “Did you see him there?”

“I think so. Or someone who looked a lot like him,” she said with a shrug. “The guy was hanging around near the bar, but I don’t think I saw him talking to anyone.”

He looked back toward the group again, but the man was no longer there. “Shit. Where the fuck did he go?”

“He’s probably just someone who’s moved here recently.” Her tone was deliberately mellow, as if she was trying to chill him out. “There are houses up and down the beach, Ben. You can’t know everyone.”

“True,” he muttered, still scanning the beach. “I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

She tugged on his hand until she had his attention again, then waggled her brows. “You never know, stud. He might have been looking at
you
.”

His mouth twitched with a reluctant grin. “Smart-ass.”

“Hey, you’re nice to look at,” she drawled. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”

He squeezed her hand. “You’re the only one I care about.”

He immediately stilled for a beat, as if a little stunned to have heard those unexpected words slipping off his tongue, and he wasn’t the only one. Reese knew her own surprise, along with too many other confusing emotions, had to be showing on her face, so she quickly looked away, staring out over the water. She was still trying to figure out how to respond, when his phone rang. He took the call after seeing that it was from Toby, the IT guy who had her phone, and they continued walking up the beach, toward their houses, while he talked.

“Any news?” she asked, after he’d thanked Toby and ended the call, slipping the phone back in his pocket.

They’d reached the patio, and he turned toward her, a grim expression on his rugged face as he rubbed his jaw. “They were able to trace the number the texts were sent from to a disposable phone that was bought somewhere in Boston.”

Dread slithered through her body, sickly and cold. “Are they sure?”

“Yeah.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then forced them back open. “Shit.”

“There’s no way to trace the exact purchase point, but it’s not looking good for your ex, honey.”

“I guess not.”

She sounded distracted, lost in thought, and Ben didn’t blame her. He knew she’d been hoping for something that didn’t link back to Leighton. Hoping to get her mind off the jackass, he said, “Why don’t you come over to my place for dinner, then stay the night with me?”

Her startled gaze shot to his. “Oh, that’s, uh, really sweet of you, but I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“Why not?” he demanded, wondering what kind of infuriating excuse she was going to lob at him this time.

“Because it wouldn’t be smart.”

“Smart?” he bit out, and Reese thought he not only sounded pissed, he looked it. “What the hell isn’t smart about it?”

“I know I sound crazy, and I’m sorry. I just . . . I don’t want this to get more confusing than it already is.”

He clenched his jaw so hard it looked painful. “You’re the one confusing it, Reese. No one else.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, wishing there was a way to make him understand. But he was speeding ahead with this thing like they had miles of open road before them, while she kept waiting for the brick wall that came out of nowhere.
Splat
. He might be able to just get up and walk away from that kind of wreckage, but not her. Not with the way her emotions were getting all tangled up over him. Clearing her throat, she added, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to get too comfortable over at your place.”

He blew out a sharp, frustrated breath. “You are the most stubborn, bullheaded woman I’ve ever known.”

Her response was dry. “Well don’t hold back, Ben. Just tell me how you feel.”

Forcing the words past his gritted teeth, he said, “Fine. If you don’t want to succumb to the danger of actually setting foot in my house, we can go out to eat.”

“I don’t—”

“Christ!” he exploded, shoving a hand through his hair as he glared down at her. “What is it now? Are you . . . is this about
me
?” He shook his head, a shadow of something that looked almost vulnerable creeping into that dark, piercing gaze, as if she actually had the power to hurt him. “For the last fucking time, Reese, are you embarrassed to be seen out in public with me?”

“What? No, of course not. That’s ridiculous!”

“Then we’re going out tonight,” he said in a low,
do-not-fuck-with-me
tone. “I’ll grab a shower at my place and pick you up in an hour.”

His hard gaze dared her to disagree, and she was tired of fighting about it, when what she wanted was to be with him anyway. If she ended up a heap of emotional road kill, she’d have no one to blame but herself. She’d probably never even want to look at another man again, but hey, at least she’d have gone out enjoying herself. “Fine,” she murmured. “I’ll be ready in an hour.”

He gave a low grunt, apparently satisfied with that response, and followed her to her door, waiting for her to get inside and turn off the alarm. “And just for the record,” she called out, when he’d already started walking back down the pathway, “you’re the bossiest man
I’ve
ever known!”

Reese didn’t quite catch his muttered response, but she could have sworn it was something along the lines of “. . . 
you’d better get used to it
.”