Pranked (8 page)

B
ennett walked right out
of the cabin, leaving me alone on his childhood bed.

I didn’t understand. Things had been going so well, and it wasn’t like we hadn’t had sex before. Whatever else might have happened that night, many of those memories had already come back, and most of them were hotter than anything I’d ever done with Ken—and as such I was actually kind of looking forward to experiencing them again, but sober this time. For a long moment, I just lay there, frustrated and turned on with no outlet.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so turned on.

No, actually, that wasn’t right. I could remember. It was just an hour ago, in Bennett’s room when he’d rejected me the first time today. Despite how unrealized both encounters had been, my whole body pulsed at the memories of being so aroused, my nipples tightened into hard little buds. I even briefly considered sliding my hand into my pants to take care of things myself, but a moment later, I heard a sound that could only have been a dinner bell.

I pulled myself out of the bed with a groan and shuffled through the cabin, pausing to touch a small, wood-carved horse. I wondered if Bennett had played with it as a kid. I wondered what he’d looked like back then, how he’d laughed.

“Soup’s on!”

I jumped a little at the sound of Bennett’s voice as he stuck his head in the front door with a grin, like he hadn’t just left me wet and wanting only moments before.

“Come on,” he said, offering his hand.

It was a simple touch, innocent, almost—except for the way it sent a spark of electricity up my arm and down my spine and straight to my clit. I cleared my throat searching for something to talk about to take my mind of the strength of his grip and the length of his fingers.

The bell sounded again, and I laughed. “Is that really a dinner bell?” I asked, and Bennett grinned at me.

“Isn’t it great? It was here when I was a kid, and I was never allowed to ring it. Luckily it was still here when I bought the place. Hell, if it wasn’t I might have never even pulled out my checkbook in the first place.”

I was only about ninety percent sure he was joking about that, but I couldn’t help laughing anyway, leaning into him, like my body was craving his touch.

It was.

“I bet you ring it all the time now,” I said, looking at him in a new light. He’d been so honest with me back in the cabin, so sincere. Maybe I didn’t need to remember last night. I was already starting to see why I might have married this man.

“All the time,” he agreed, tugging me up the stairs to where the bell sat in its frame. Layla was standing next to it with an enormous grin on her face.

“This is a legit dinner bell, boo,” she said, holding the rope in her hand.

“And you got to ring it?” I asked, the corners of my mouth still pulled into a wide smile at how whimsical and truly Bennett the whole idea of this bell was.

Layla shrugged and gestured to where River was standing, mashing potatoes by hand in a huge bowl. He had a shirt on this time, but I was guessing it was only because he was working on our dinner. He looked like he couldn’t wait to get out of it.

“I’ve got connections,” Layla said.

“So do you,” Bennett said, nudging me.

“Me?” I asked.

“Of course,” he answered. “You happen to be fucking the owner.”

Layla’s mouth dropped open, but I snorted. It was such a ridiculous statement that it finally burst through my cloud of arousal, bringing me back to the moment.

“So how about it?” Bennett was saying. “You wanna ring the bell?”

“Who would I be calling?” I asked, looking around the patio. “We’re all here. I don’t wanna rob it of its purpose.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged with a chuckle, heading toward a long table overladen with enticing dishes, all of them—so far as I could see—vegetarian.

“You have got to taste this
food
,” Layla said, moving to hook her arm through mine. Her eyes kept sweeping back to River. She was practically drooling. I wondered if she had already sampled the cook.

I leaned in to whisper, “Maybe you should consider the quickie marriage option, too.”

She elbowed me in the side. “Don’t even joke about that!”

“What aren’t we joking about?” River asked, dropping a pile of creamy mashed potatoes onto my plate as I served myself some strawberry spinach salad.

“Marriage,” Layla said, and I felt my cheeks flush.

“Whose marriage?” Bennett asked, dropping a slice of bread liberally smeared with avocado onto my plate.

“Just marriage in general,” she said. “I mean...it’s okay for some, but you won’t catch me doing it.”

“You and me both,” River agreed as we all took our plates to a patio table where there were wine glasses already laid out. “Don’t get me wrong, boss,” he added. “I’m beyond stoked for you two, and you look like you make a good team. It’s just not my jam.”

Bennett sat across from me, and I felt the gentle nudge of his foot against mine. “We do make a good team,” he agreed.

I looked away, taking a generous drink of wine. All I could think of was the hard heat of his cock beneath my hand. Why had he stopped me, if he really thought we were a good match?

“So, boss,” River said before I had a chance to sink too deep into my thoughts. “Remember how I said the full moon was this week?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Bennett nodded.

“So, I wouldn’t have scheduled it if I knew you were coming, but it’s kinda douchey to cancel on everyone last minute….”

I frowned curiously at my new husband. It sounded like River was having a party tonight, and I was a little worried Bennett would be upset that he was using the ranch for his personal parties.

But Bennett surprised me by just shrugging, the smile on his face not even threatening to waver. “No problem, man,” he said, then his eyes flicked in my direction. “In fact, would you be okay with us joining in?”

“For serious?” River grinned and nodded, smooth and easy. “Yeah, man. You’re always welcome.”

“How about it, wifey?” Bennett said, still focused on me. “You up for a party tonight? I know things got a
little
crazy the last time you drank, but….” He trailed off with a smirk, that mischievous sparkle in his eye.

“I suppose we
could
do a party,” I said, grinning over my wine glass. “Only I’m not sure my
husband
can keep up with me.”

Our eyes met across the table, and for a moment, I felt like this was something real, like we really were a couple. Bennett reached a hand across to me, then, and gently wiped something from my cheek with his thumb. He offered it to me to lick clean as though we’d eaten together for so long it was just natural. As my lips closed over his thumb and my tongue swiped up a tiny smear of avocado, I felt the blood rushing to my face, pulsing through me. Everything narrowed down to the salty taste of Bennett’s skin and the way his eyes refused to let go of mine.

“Oh, hey!” River said, breaking the spell. I sat back, still feeling the flush in my cheeks and the weight of Bennett’s gaze on me. “You can ring the bell to call everybody in!”

A
va had let
out the smallest giggle as she yanked on the rope, and yet the sound rang in my ears even louder than the big bell, with an echo that continued even as we followed River down the dirt path that led down to the lake.

Every full moon, River’s buddies—hippies or Wiccans or pagans or... something—got together by the lake to celebrate. I’d never been here for one of the gatherings, and I was beyond amused at the very thought of finally participating.

River was one of my closest friends, oddly, but I did not get this side of him at all. It was just completely out of my own element and realm of experience, but that just made it all the more interesting to finally witness.

As the sound of the drum circle filtered through the trees to our path, I felt my practiced, cynical smirk sliding into place. This should be hilarious. I mean, a drum circle, are you serious?

The firelight reached us just before we came out of the trees and around a corner onto the beach. A crackling bonfire was blazing gold and yellow and red in a neat fire pit, and a ring of people stood around it, some of them with their hands out as if they were warming them by the fire, even in the summer night. I was surprised to see they weren’t all the crunchy granola type, like River. There was even a guy there wearing a Padres jersey. My caretaker stopped to greet a few people, but he was staying close to us.

No, I realized, he was staying close to Layla.

Well, good for him. From the moment I laid eyes on Ava’s assistant, I could tell what she needed most was a good fuck. That woman just needed someone to throw her down on a bed and do every nasty thing to her that she could think of. River seemed like the perfect guy to round out her rough edges. That man was so natural he might as well be water.

We shuffled into the drum circle, people smiling warmly as they parted to make room for us. Some of them smelled distinctly of marijuana, a couple of booze, more than one of B.O. But each one of them welcomed us, clearly grateful to have a few more people to enjoy the evening with. There were dry logs, about knee high, circled around the fire to sit on, and we found a seat just as everyone in the circle seemed to be settling in.

“Well,” I whispered, leaning close to Ava. “This should be interesting.” The drums continued their steady, syncopated beat, and slowly other instruments joined in: guitars and fiddles and even a banjo. Someone started playing a wooden flute, and then someone else pulled out a pan pipe.

I kept glancing around the circle to see if anyone was moving, if this was, maybe, going to turn into a huge, pagan orgy.

Eventually, someone did get up, a short, curvy girl with bare feet and dreads, a broomstick skirt sitting low on her hips. She started to dance, swaying with the music, then easing seamlessly into a twirling, hypnotic rhythm. In the firelight, she looked like some ethereal creature. A fire sprite. An ifrit.

It was unexpectedly beautiful, and I found myself mesmerized by her movements.

Gradually, others started to join in, pulling themselves upright and slipping into the rhythm of the music. Each one hypnotized into their own kind of expressive movement. All of them flowing and all of them earnest. I could see bottles and boxes and plates being passed from person to person, and when I looked over toward Ava, I saw Layla sharing some sort of cake with River.

Ava held a bottle in her hand and took a long drink.

“Careful, there,” I said, laughing. Who knew what was in that?

Ava grinned at me and began swaying slightly to the beat of the drums. “Don’t worry,” she said, handing me the bottle. “I won’t overdo it. I want to remember everything this time.”

She got to her feet, and shimmied a little, hips flowing with the song. I raised an eyebrow as I watched her, amazed at how at ease she seemed with everything around her. Even
I
was feeling more than a little bit out of place. “Going to join in?”

“I just might, Cowboy,” she said, and then Layla was standing next to her. She took Ava’s hand and led her into the circle. I waved them off, taking a big gulp from the bottle she left behind, laughing as I watched her being drawn even deeper into the dance.

The firelight caught every golden highlight in Ava’s hair, and her eyes were wide and bright. She was as happy as I’d seen her yet, and my cynical smirk slipped away, replaced by a smile that felt unfamiliar. Something more peaceful and content.

She was so free. So untethered by any of her worries. It was hard to resist the temptation to just move forward without telling her the truth, but I would never do that. The whole point of a prank is the reveal. The whole point is the “
ta-da”
moment when everyone laughs and is in awe and wonder as to how you pulled it all off. That was the way it was supposed to go, anyway. Ideally. But this was no ordinary prank.

Damn was I was going to miss her when it was all over.

She was painfully beautiful, and I knew I didn’t deserve to have her feel so comfortable around me. It was despicable for me to try something like this after everything that her ex did to her, but it was so spontaneous and as usual I really just acted without thinking. And she
did
say she wanted to get away.

Taking one more deep drink to help push aside all of the guilt and regret, I pulled myself to my feet and passed the bottle along to the next person, a wild eyed twenty-something that had somehow lost her shirt and seemed not to notice or care that she was standing around in just a white bra.

On Ava’s next pass, I reached out, almost without meaning to, drawn to touch her by some unseen, magnetic-like force. I pulled her into my arms, and the next thing I knew we were both dancing, swaying and floating along with the music. I was acutely aware of her body pressed to mine, feeling connected by some sort of energy. It made me briefly wonder what had been in that bottle after all. I held her so close I could feel her heart beating against my chest.

I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to taste her mouth. I thought of the cabin earlier, how sweet she’d tasted, how eager she’d been. She couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—take her hands off of me. I’d never wanted someone so much than in that moment, and even though that was physically impossible to hide from her, I knew I couldn’t take advantage of the situation then. And I still couldn’t.

Something about the firelight and the floaty sensation caused by whatever we’d been drinking made me suddenly want to tell her everything. All of the guilt that I’d been pushing away came crashing down on me at once, and I thought that in that moment, she deserved the truth. But if I told her the truth, she’d stop looking at me like she was, like there was nowhere she’d rather be than in my arms. Like I was her savior, the best thing that had ever happened to her. How could I walk away from that?

I couldn’t. Not yet.

Maybe I could just wait a few more days.

The internal battle was still waging in my head when Ava surged up on her toes and pressed her irresistibly soft lips to mine.