Remembering You: Pushing the Boundaries, Prequel (9 page)

Chapter Eleven

Ben wasn’t sure what had made Nina want to have dinner with him, but he wasn’t going to complain. He was pretty sure there was something more than hunger behind it, though he knew from negotiating all kinds of delicate situations that it would do more harm to come right out and ask her.

But he’d paid attention while they talked, watching her face and body as she spoke, listening to the words she chose, and trying to understand what was behind this seemingly abrupt change of heart.

Because he didn’t believe she had all of a sudden decided to try her hand at a relationship with him. He already knew she was too strong-willed to simply give in.

He could tell she recognized there was something special between them, though. On the walk over, when she had referred to their first face-to-face meeting, emphasizing those words, he also heard what she hadn’t said. That their meeting in the hospital counted for something with her. It had meant something.

He hoped so, anyway. He hoped he wasn’t reading too much into it simply because he wanted her so badly. He was having a hard time not thinking about what she was wearing—and not wearing—under her skirt, and it was possible the lust fog in his brain was obscuring his reality.

And then, when she’d told him about her dad, he’d been overwhelmed for her. He had a lot of questions, but she’d changed the subject right away and he’d let it go.

They talked for more than two hours. She told him how she had gotten into reporting, and how the world opened up when she started traveling, and he shared how he had moved out here from California, but his parents, brother and sister were still on the other coast, and life out here had been lonely.

By the time the check arrived, he was shocked to realize it was after eight o’clock, and the restaurant’s usual post-corporate crowd had thinned considerably.

He saw her hand reach for the bill, but he placed his over hers as she moved to pick up the piece of paper. He heard her gasp quietly, the sound of arousal shooting through him in an instant. He was suddenly very aware of how small and delicate her hand felt under his, and the heat between their skin was intoxicating.

He wanted her again. Still. Always. After an evening of getting to know her better, he wanted her more than before, if such a thing was even possible.

“I’m the one who invited you out tonight, Ben. It’s only fair I should pay.”

Ha. No way was he going to let a woman buy him dinner—whether they ended up back at his place again or not. He had to break her of this habit: first the offer of a drink last night, now dinner. He got that she was independent, and that was a part of her he respected a great deal. But…no.

He raised a brow, his hand still covering hers. “Why did you suggest I take you out for dinner?”

She blushed, probably reacting to his words. He knew she hadn’t been angling for him to buy her meal, but he disliked the idea she’d felt obligated to pick up the check, simply because she’d made a suggestion he’d benefitted from.

And he had benefitted. He’d enjoyed their time together. It beat hanging out with the same guys every night, or going home to a lonely apartment and a makeshift dinner. And it meant getting to know her better.

She slid her hand away from his. “Very well, I concede. Thank you for treating me to dinner.”

He placed the bill next to him and pulled out some cash from his wallet, looking away from her for a mere second as he counted it out and left it in the tray.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said casually. He was smiling, trying not to make her tense up, but he wasn’t going to let this one go like when she’d been talking about her father.

At first, she looked confused, almost as though she hadn’t understood the question. But after a moment, she sighed and looked away and said quietly, “I thought it would keep me from getting involved with you.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that she’d asked him to dinner because she’d expected—maybe even hoped—to like him
less
after spending some time with him fully clothed.

But then he sucked in a sharp breath, trying to tame the adrenaline threatening to take over at the realization that she’d said she
thought
it would keep her from getting involved.

Did that mean she’d been wrong?

He composed himself and spoke in a measured, even voice that usually worked to calm hostage takers, dogs and babies. “I see. Well, fair is fair, and thank you for telling me. But seeing as I have a stake in this too, I’d like to know…did it work?”

She hesitated for a moment, then her hand slowly reached out and slipped into his once more.

“No. It failed. Miserably.”

Chapter Twelve

Nina could feel the tension in Ben’s body as they walked back to the parking garage. He’d parked at the station today, but he’d insisted on seeing her safely to her car.

He’d gone quiet after she’d told him why she had asked him to dinner. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but when he’d offered her his arm and she’d nestled close to him, she could feel how tight his muscles were. Those gorgeous, lean muscles…

She shivered with arousal, remembering earlier in the stairwell…how he had looked the night before when he had shed all of his clothing and covered her body with his…

Beautiful. Inside and out, she now knew.

And it was killing her. She couldn’t be with him without liking him more, but what would it lead to? Could she really get serious with a guy whose job put him in danger on a regular basis? And what would it mean for her career? Right now, it was on hold, but if she stayed here for him…she would never be able to get back what she had.

Is that so bad?
She’d been running away for so long, not wanting to come back to this place full of so many unhappy memories, but for the first time in her life she was starting to understand that maybe permanence wasn’t as evil as she’d thought.

She didn’t know what to do. The only thing she knew for sure right now was she wanted Ben, desperately. They’d held hands off and on throughout dinner, but not being able to touch him the way she wanted to for these past couple of hours had brought her need for him to a fine point.

“Are you cold?” They were the first words he’d spoken to her since they left the restaurant. He took his arm from hers and slid it around her waist, instead, pulling her even closer into his body heat, and she went readily, snuggling into his side as they walked.

His hand stroked up and down her side, warming her, but also stoking her arousal with every slide of his fingers over her waist and hips, and by the time they entered the garage, she was arching into his touch, feeling warmer than she thought possible in this chilly weather.

She felt his breathing speed up too, and a rumble in his chest echoed the low, growling noise he made as they reached her car. He stopped and turned her back against the SUV, pushing himself against her, sliding his hand low, cupping her ass and pulling her skirt up a bit.

She whimpered with need, grinding into him, feeling her desire sharpen even more as cool air hit the wetness between her thighs.

“In the car,” he rasped, and she fumbled for her keys, unlocking the door and throwing her bag in the front seat before climbing into the backseat with him like a horny teenager. He shut the door, enveloping them both in the tight, dark space of her backseat. The leather felt cool against her flesh, even through her clothes.

He sat in the middle seat, legs sprawled apart and braced on the floor. He lifted her and slid her skirt up before spreading her legs over his hips.

Thank God for the tall roof
. She leaned forward and stroked her tongue into his mouth. It was enough space for her to sit astride him like this. Her mound was pressed against his jeans, the rough denim teasing her with its friction against her sensitive flesh, and the rasp of her stockings against his jeans every time he pitched his hips upward was more seductive than violin music and candlelight.

What was it about him that made her feel so frantic?

It was almost as though she was afraid of losing him again if she slowed down long enough to let him be wheeled away while she was sleeping.

She refused to address that thought right now, though.

Instead, she groaned into his mouth and fumbled at the zipper of his jeans, pulling it back clumsily and yanking at the waistband of his boxers beneath, but he tore his lips from her mouth.

“I want to be inside you this time, but I don’t have a condom.” He said it even as he pushed his hips up against her body.

Nina smiled. “I do.”

She thought she heard him whisper “Hallelujah” as she leaned backward, levering her body toward the front seat, and rummaged in her bag for the packet she’d slid in there this morning. Not that she’d been assuming she’d even see Ben again, but given how they’d found each other after three years apart she wasn’t going to leave anything to chance.

She passed him the condom and she heard the packet rip as she hiked her skirt up farther, exposing her naked thighs, the straps of her garter hooked to the tops of lacy black stockings.

Ben grunted, sliding the condom on in record time, and the next thing she knew, he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her enough to position her over his cock, and pushed her down, groaning as he slowly penetrated her body.

She was spread wide, her skirt rucked all the way up around her waist, her thighs clenching his body as he thrust gently into her, small motions that in this position went deep. She could feel the wetness beginning to spread, slicking her skin every time he pushed, and she nibbled and sucked at his neck with the rhythm.

After a few minutes, he pulled back to stare down at the place where their bodies were joined as he lifted her a few inches off of him. She watched too, as part of his wet, engorged cock slid out…and then back in.

“Oh shit.”

That was about as much as she could manage before she was riding him faster, racing toward climax. He met every thrust, pushing back hard, measure for measure, and before long Nina could feel the pleasure spiking, threatening to consume her.

“Fuck, Nina. Baby. I’m gonna come,” he ground out, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly to him as he bucked hard, hitting just the right place to send her rocketing into an intense, rough orgasm, shaking a scream from her body as he shuddered beneath her, his fingers digging into her hips as he came.

* * * * *

They were both finally breathing normally now, after several minutes of riding the wave of mutual pleasure. Nina was slumped on Ben’s chest, the two of them still joined together.

She groaned as he shifted, burrowing his hand between them and grabbing at the base of the condom. He held it in place as he slowly eased her up, but her flesh was so swollen and sensitive to move on him, even in this state, she whimpered a little.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t want it to spill.”

She sighed and nodded as he came out of her body, then turned to flop into the seat next to him and straightened her skirt while Ben tied off the condom and slid it into his jacket pocket before pulling up his clothes. But then, instead of getting out and leaving her to head home, he slid her closer to him, pulling her against his side in a cozy embrace.

Cuddling.

“Come back to my place,” he murmured. “Spend the night with me.”

Her hair rasped against his sweater as she shook her head. “I can’t. I have to go home and relieve the helper.”

She explained how someone had to be with her dad at all hours, in case he forgot how to do something and harmed himself, or caused an accident that harmed someone else, or just plain became afraid.

His chest vibrated beneath her ear. “Is he showing any improvement?”

“A little. It’s slow going, though. The doctors think he can make a significant recovery, but they all agreed he’ll never be completely healed. They did say he could certainly get back to almost normal, and at least for me it would be enough.”

For me to leave him and Greenbriar behind again.

The unspoken words hung in the air, and even though she hadn’t said them aloud, she felt Ben tense up.

But, “You’d best get home, then,” was all he said.

She pushed off of him and sat up, sliding the hair away from her face to look at him. His features were a mask of indifference.

The man she’d shared so much with was looking at her like he didn’t know her at all.

Suddenly, she felt very cold.

“Ben,” she began, wanting to explain it wasn’t about him, and it was precisely because she liked him so much that she couldn’t allow herself to get too close to him. But he cut her off, sliding to the other side and opening the door to step out.

He turned in front of the open door and leaned in to look at her. “You don’t need to explain, Nina. I get how you feel. I won’t bother you again.”

Then he shut the door on her and started to walk away.

Of all the—

The rush of anger was almost as intense as her earlier orgasm. She pushed open the other door and leapt out, and he turned at the sound of her running after him.

“No, you don’t get how I feel, Ben. Don’t you even dare toss that out so casually, as though you have any clue.”

She jabbed an accusing finger in his direction. “You barely know me. We might have an inexplicable connection from a few years ago, and I want you, and after tonight I’ve realized I like you too. But your job puts you in mortal danger all the goddamned time! And I’ve spent my entire life—not the past three years or the last two days—loving my father, missing him, and desperately afraid one day I was going to learn he would never come back home.”

Her voice broke, and Ben stepped toward her, but she held up a hand to stop him, eyes burning with indignation.

How dare he pretend to understand?

“That means I’ve lived through nearly thirty years of fear. And now that Dad finally has come home for good, he’s so—” her face contorted, “—messed up that it’s almost worse than never having him at all. It’s something I had never even considered in all my dreams of the day when he would be back here to stay. I had to put my entire life on hold to come home and care for him and I can’t even tell him how-how—angry I am at him for leaving me behind all those years.”

Shit. Had she really admitted that out loud?

Ben had a way of getting her to talk.

She took a deep breath, trying to rid herself of the tightness in her shoulders.

“I know I shouldn’t be complaining. I shouldn’t be upset. But I don’t know how to feel! I spent my youth angry and afraid, and yet nothing ever happened to my father. Nothing. And when I finally thought I had reached some kind of peace with it, where I could at least sleep at night without having nightmares of his death, he comes back damaged.”

She couldn’t help it. A small sob escaped, and she hugged her arms around herself. “The worst part of it is I’m not sure whether the reason I’m so angry is that my fears finally came true, or because I had to give up something I loved to do to look after man whom, truth be told, I barely know. And then I feel horrible for resenting it.”

Ben tried to move to her again, his arms out to comfort her, but she sidestepped him. “That’s why I can’t. I can’t get involved—or more involved, anyway—with you. I like you so much already…” She trailed off and closed her eyes, tipping her head to the sky. “I really, really like you. I have fun with you and I think you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever known. But I don’t think I could sign up for thirty more years of this. Maybe if you had been someone else…”

She trailed off and shook her head. “No, forget it. Because then you wouldn’t have been you.” She shrugged and backed away toward her car again. “I hope you at least kind of get it now.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could utter a word, she yanked open the driver’s side door and jumped in the car, shutting him out.

I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to have to deal with one more thing.

She started the car and backed up. He was still standing there, motioning at her to stop, to talk to him, and for a fraction of a second she almost caved.

But then she glanced at the clock. Nearly ten o’clock. She had to get home to relieve the helper.

She drove away without looking back.

* * * * *

“What’s wrong with you, man?”

Brewer, sitting next to Ben in the passenger seat of the parked cruiser, delivered the question with a scowl.

Ben shrugged. “Nothing, I’m cool.”

Brewer snorted, but didn’t press it. “Fine, but could you at least try to hold up your end of the conversation? Traffic patrol is boring enough when I have to do it on my own, but now I also have to sit here and watch you be silent and shitty, which is even more boring.”

He sighed and tapped his fingers on the dashboard. “Nina used me.”

Brewer froze and whipped his head around. “No fucking way. Do not tell me you gave her inside information. You’re in so much deep shit if—”

“What? No! God. Not that kind of using. Nothing to do with her being a reporter and definitely nothing illegal.”

“Jesus, man. Don’t ever do that to me again.” Brewer huffed. “So, fine. If she didn’t use you for info, then what did she use you for?”

Ben shifted to look out the window. “For sex,” he mumbled.

“Fuck you, you did not just say that,” Brewer replied, but he was laughing now, deep belly laughs that made his words catch with his uneven breath. “Oh man, oh shit. That’s funny. We are talking about the woman you saw in the bar on Monday night, right? And now you are complaining because you had sex with her. That insanely gorgeous, fucking hot—” Brewer stopped and rolled his eyes, even though he was grinning maniacally. “Yeah. Fuck you.”

Ben slumped in the seat. “Forget it. Whatever.”

“Aww, Crewes.” Brewer dropped his grin. “I’m just giving you a hard time. We could already tell even when she showed up at the Clipper you really like her. And she was definitely into you. What happened?”

He gave Brewer a toned-down version of what had happened between him and Nina, and how she’d walked—no, driven—away from him last night.

Brewer checked the speedometer as a few cars drove by, then sat back again.

“So she said she liked you, you got it on in her car—which, by the way, is very unlike the well-oiled Crewes machine I know, so this must be really, really serious,” Brewer commented, raising an eyebrow and looking mock-sternly at him—“and then she told you she couldn’t get any more involved with you because she didn’t want to have to spend the rest of her natural life stressing out about whether you were alive or bleeding to death in some ditch after a hostage situation went wrong. Did I get that right?”

Ben nodded.