Outside the Lines (Rebel Hearts #1) (14 page)

I wrap my legs around him and reach out, pulling him into an embrace as we kiss. His semi-hard cock stiffens, pressing into my center. I slide my hands down and unbutton his pants. He pulls my shirt over my head then takes his own off. In full sunlight, I can see how intricate his tattoos are. The scars came after a few had inked his skin, and I want to ask what happened. Maybe after we have sex. I don’t want to ruin the mood and know we don’t have much time.
 

I trace my finger over a long scar on his left pec muscle and he shivers, temporarily stopping kissing me. Then he dives in like he’s starving and I’m the first meal he’s had in days.
 

His lips move from my neck to my collarbone, teeth lightly clamping into my skin. He unhooks my bra and pulls it off and lowers himself, leaving a trail of kisses until he reaches my breasts. He takes one in a hand and the other in his mouth. I toss my head back and realize the windows are wide open. We’re on the second story and deep inside the office, but can still be seen.

Fuck it, who cares?
 

The risk of being seen—and heard by anyone in the gallery—turns me on. I’ve never done anything like this before. Never had someone who makes me feel so passionate, who turns me on so quickly, and makes me so hot.
 

Desperation comes on and I’m taking Ben’s pants off, stroking his beautiful cock, and urging him to me. My pants come off next and Ben drops to his knees, tossing my legs over his shoulders. I go back on my elbows, knocking a stack of papers and something heavy off his desk. The papers scatter and the three-hole punch lands with a thud.
 

Oh well.
 

His mouth is pressed to me, five o’clock shadow rough on my delicate skin. The combination of rough hair and soft, smooth tongue almost pushes me over the edge. He stops when I’m on the cusp of coming and I want to slap him, push his head back between my legs, and tell him not to stop until I’m finished.
 

I’m still panting, head still back when I hear a little crinkle. Oh right, condom. Duh. Once it’s on, he puts his mouth back to me and finishes the job, keeping his mouth tight on me, licking, sucking, flicking, as I come, contracting against him. Without giving me time to recover, he pulls me forward and pushes in.
 

I can’t help but cry out. My body is alive with pleasure, unlike anything I’ve felt before. I never knew I could feel this good, be so turned on. My ears are ringing and my toes tingle. Ben thrusts in and out, with short, fast movements. I hold onto him and he takes a handful of my breasts, circling my nipples with his thumb.
 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he pants and bends down to nuzzle my neck. I’m still riding the pleasure train, not caring where the fuck I’ll get off. Because I’m getting off again right now.
 

I clamp my hand over my mouth to muffle a moan as I come the second time, the orgasm rolling through me with so much force my body shudders. I open my eyes for half a second and see that Ben is watching me, and seeing me orgasm turns him on. He pushes me back onto the desk, grabs my thighs, and pushes in deeper than before. So deep it almost hurts.
 

Almost.
 

He pulls back until his dick is almost out, then rams in again. And again. And again. Then we both moan and climax together. My legs quiver and he pitches forward, panting. I hold onto him, unable to catch my breath or slow my heart rate.
 

Holy fucking shit.
 

He lets out a final deep breath then brushes the hair back from my face. My breasts rapidly rise and fall as I gasp for air. His eyes meet mine and he gives me that devilish grin, then straightens and pulls me upright as he slides out.
 

“Hopefully that solved your computer issue,” I say, still breathless.

“Hopefully,” he says back. “Because if there is another problem next week…” he trails off, raising his eyebrows. I laugh, wishing I could get called out for this kind of customer service call every day, but I know Cameron would catch on.
 

“Mmmm,” I say as he grabs my waist. He gently kneads the extra loving I have on my sides and I feel self-conscious … but I actually think he finds it—dare I say—sexy? Because he’s looking like he wants to bend me over the desk and fuck me again.
 

“You’re something else,” he says and right away I know that one is a compliment. “What are you doing to me? I can’t get you out of my head.” He pulls me to him and kisses me passionately. Wind blows the curtains wide open and rattles the locked door. Ben tears himself away, turning to take the condom off. He tosses it in the trash and I vaguely wonder if he’s going to cover it up later, which gives me a flashback to my pretending-to-be-a-virgin days when I’d double wrap used condoms in toilet paper or paper towels so my parents wouldn’t see. I did the same thing with tampons for a while so my mom wouldn’t know I started my period and give me “the talk.”
 

“Same to you,” I say back. Ben hands me my bra. I put it on, watching him get dressed. Someone knocks on the door, and I freeze.
 

“It’s okay,” he says when he sees my panic. “The door is locked.”
 

I nod and get my pants up. Ben pulls his shirt on, straightening the hem as he walks to the door. I madly reach over the desk for my shirt and put it on, then take a seat at the desk, putting my hands on the computer keyboard.
 

“Someone is downstairs, looking at the bronze statue,” Mindy says when Ben opens the door. He only opens it halfway, and I can see Mindy craning her neck to look at me. “They want to talk to you. They are thinking about buying it.”
 

“I’ll be right down,” Ben says and turns to look at me. “You’re logged in, right?”

“Yes,” I say and press down on random keys. Then I realize the computer isn’t even on. Oops.
 

“Good,” he says, eyes meeting mine. “I’ll be back as soon as I can to assist you.”
 

I nod again, cheeks flushing, though they’re still red from fucking. Ben opens the door all the way and steps out. I keep my eyes focused on the black computer screen. I know Mindy is looking at me, waiting for me to look up and meet her gaze so she can give me a snarky smile or make some bullshit comment.
 

Finally, she turns and goes down the stairs, heels clicking on the wood. I lean back and let out a breath, realizing how close we were to being caught. Maybe Mindy had come up the stairs earlier and heard? Then that means she stood there and waited, listening for us to finish. What a sick freak.
 

Or maybe not.
 

Probably not, or she would have knocked sooner. I pull out my phone from my purse and log onto a gamer site instead, checking for updates and reading through forums for entertainment. People lose their shit over the littlest things. Five minutes turn to ten, then fifteen. Twenty minutes later, Ben texts me, saying the people interested in the piece are talkers, and want to discuss getting a few custom paintings. It’s going to be a while, like an hour or more since they have to draw things up and go over some sort of contract. He says I can leave if I need to get back to work and he’ll call me later.
 

I gather up my things, knowing I can’t stay that long even though I want to. I have some work left to do on the site I’m coding, and I don’t want to stay at work late. I text Ben back:
I do need to get back to the office, as much as I don’t want to. I can plug in your router anytime.
I add a winking emoji and smile after I send.
 

I take another minute to gather my composure. My panties are damp since I pulled them on without cleaning myself up, and Ben makes me pretty fucking wet. I’m feeling pretty damn empowered as I go down the office steps. A middle-of-the-workday fucking is always something I wanted to do, but never thought I’d be with someone who could give that to me.
 

Ben glances at me and smiles when I step off the last stair. He’s standing next to a tall statue that kind of resembles a tree. I haven’t stopped to get a good look at anything yet, but I remember the price tag on that thing could pay for four months’ worth of rent for me. Holy shit.

“Felicity,” Mindy says when I walk past her desk, voice sickly high pitched. Why does she purposely talk like that? I turn around to see her staring at me, lips pressed together, and eyes narrowed. I rack my brain for a witty comeback to whatever the hell kind of insult she’s planning to throw at me.
 

Then her eyes widen. “Your shirt,” she starts and for a brief moment I think she’s going to make fun of my WOW polo, then I realize she wouldn’t recognize the emblem.
 

“What about it?” I ask and realize it’s not tucked in. But I never tuck in my shirts for work. It’s wrinkled? No, I did my “mist with water and throw in the dryer” trick this morning. Maybe it wrinkled in the few minutes it spent on the floor? Nah, I doubt that.
 

Then she says it the exact moment I realize what’s wrong.
 

“It’s inside out.”
 

Fuck. It is. There is no mistaking that seam. I blink a few times, trying to come up with a lie. It was always this way. Yes. I put it on inside out this morning. Silly me.
 

“It wasn’t like that when you came in.” Her wide eyes narrow as she puts two and two together.
 

Damn it, Mindy fucking Abraham, calling me out. Oh well. I’m fucking your boss, so … so I have no idea what that makes me. Probably a whore in her eyes.
 

“Oh,” I stammer. “Maybe? I don’t know. I didn’t really pay attention.” I scurry toward the door, catching one last glimpse of Mindy’s face. For a moment, it’s pulled down with sadness. Then jealousy takes over and her jaw sets in that I’m-gonna-cut-a-bitch way that sends a shiver down my spine.
 

She’s fucking pissed, and then I realize something else. Married or not, she’s crushing on Ben. Big time.
 

CHAPTER NINE

“You’re such a better sewer than me,” Erin sighs.
 

“Not really,” I say back, leaning in to get a better look at the computer screen, and in turn, her costume. We’re talking via Skype, going over the progress of our Comic Con costumes. “That looks awesome.”
 

“Meh, it’s not so good in person.”
 

“If you need me to help with the fine details, I can,” I say. “I’ll be home for my parent’s annual Fourth of July party,” I remind her. “We can work on costumes then.”
 

“I might take you up on that offer.” She sits down and pulls her hair into a clip. “Are you inviting Ben?”

I make a face. “I don’t know.”
 

“Why not? I think it’s safe to say he likes you after the office booty call yesterday.”
 

I smile. “True. He likes having sex with me, I know that. But I still can’t decide if he likes
me
.”

Erin waves her hand in the air. “You’re too hard on yourself. Why wouldn’t he like you? My best friend is awesome.”
 

“Thanks. And I don’t know … It’s just a feeling? He said he dates other women, remember? I assume he goes out with plenty of other chicks who are…” I trail off, not wanting to voice my concerns out loud, not even to my BFF of over ten years. Compared to anyone else Ben is dating, seeing, fucking—whatever, I’m just not going to measure up. I want to believe I can, but the realistic part of me wins this one.
 

“We’ll just see,” I conclude. “He’s busy a lot anyway. That weekend might be big for art shows.”
 

“Sure,” Erin says with a roll of her eyes. Something clatters inside her house and David shouts. Erin lets out a slow breath, trying to stay calm. “I should never have let him get a puppy,” she says through gritted teeth. “Yeah, the little pooch is adorable, but my house, and my sanity, cannot handle this.”
 

I laugh. “Aren’t huskies like super high-energy dogs?”
 

“Yes,” she says. “But that’s what he wanted. Something that reminded him of Balto.” She shakes her head and I laugh again. “I better go see what kind of trouble they got into now. And clean up the mess. I swear, David is such a child himself he cannot take care of a dog. It’s a good thing neither of us want kids any time in the near future. Or ever.” Erin isn’t a “kid person.” It surprised me when she let her hubs get the dog, honestly. She’s laid back and so fun, but she likes things neat and orderly in her house.
 

“Just call him Grey Wind and pretend he’s a dire wolf in training? That doesn’t get his head cut off,” I suggest.

“Maybe.” She shakes her head. “Bye, Liss.”
 

We end the Skype call and I go about working on the top of my femme Batman costume until I can hardly keep my eyes open anymore. Instead of putting away my sewing gear, I close the door to the spare room, aka my work room, to keep Ser Pounce from stepping on pins or fucking with my material. That asshole likes to fuck with my material.
 

I shower, realize I haven’t eaten since lunch, and bring a bowl of Fruit Loops to bed, too tired to make anything else. I flip through channels and grab my phone, wanting to meaninglessly scroll through Facebook as I eat. I have a text from Ben, sent over two hours ago. Whoops. I didn’t hear my phone dinging from the other room.
 

He wants to know if we can meet for lunch or dinner tomorrow. Or both. He says he misses me. I’m smiling as I respond, telling him that both would be nice. He responds quickly, telling me to let him know when I’m taking my lunch break. We plan to meet at the cafe again.
 

I drift to sleep with Ben on my mind, eager to see him in the morning.
 

*

“Hey,” I greet Ben as I step into the cafe. It’s lunch time and crowded, and if Ben hadn’t gotten here early, we wouldn’t have gotten a table. He gives me a hug and a kiss, then we sit. I put my purse and umbrella on the chair across from Ben and slide in next to him on the booth seat.