Authors: Lexi Ward
“They have back problems.”
“Great Danes tend to have heart problems.”
“Who doesn’t? It’s usually the heart or the brain that starts to deteriorate first.”
She pursed her lips at that. Only feeble counterarguments came to mind—none worth speaking out loud in order to win this. She blew out a breath and slumped.
“Nothing to say?” Ben asked, sounding smug.
“I’m thinking, I’m thinking. Give me a minute.”
He scoffed, nudging her playfully as he stood and looked through the window. “They’re still there. They’re persistent, I’ll give them that.”
“It’s their living. They kind of have to be.”
“They don’t HAVE to be. You’re a photographer. You didn’t do what they do.”
Another good point she didn’t know how to argue against. Not wanting him to know he had defeated her in wits again, she stood and looked out the window herself. The sight of those people—their cameras still high in the air—made her gut sink. Trapped by noisy, pushy people.
No wonder Ben had resented her. This kind of thing must happen to him a lot.
“You don’t have to stay here with me,” he said softly.
Startled, she turned to him. His eyes were hooded, full of sympathy and even a little guilt. The lights outside—some of them starlight already—gleamed over the glass, making Ben’s face gleam, too. He was like a statue of one of those magnificent Greek gods, except that she could see the emotions displayed on his face.
Her breath caught in her throat, warmth and heat swirling within her.
“I’m serious,” he said. “They might bug you for a little while, but you could probably get past them and go home. Get some sleep. You don’t…You don’t have to keep me company if you don’t want to.”
She swallowed in hopes of keeping her voice from squeaking. “Do you want me to leave?” It cracked, but she was relieved that it came out relatively strong.
Ben opened his mouth, brow lowering. He hesitated, nearly wincing. “Honestly? No, but—”
She didn’t think. She grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his. It was a quick, gentle kiss, but the pleasant buzz that zapped through her was dizzying. She pulled away almost swaying.
Even if he rejected her, Georgia would never regret getting at least one kiss from him.
Before she could give Ben a questioning look—before she could silently ask him if what she had done was okay—he leaned forward and captured her mouth with his own, his arms quick to wrap around her.
This kiss was searing. She parted lips and pressed herself against him as much as she could. Their body heat seeped into one another, becoming one, the pressure of his muscles around her securing.
Seconds later, she needed more. She needed to feel more, touch more—her fingers wracked through his thin hair, his moan vibrating into her.
She wrapped one leg around his waist and rubbed her lower half against him.
He moaned again, grabbing her rear and hoisting her up off the floor. With an impressive amount of speed, he carried her out of the office and down the hall.
Georgia giggled, one hand falling to his shoulder. “Where are we going?”
“Cameras everywhere,” he murmured. His breath ghosted over her throat. “Need to find some place private.”
“But we’re in an office building. Where aren’t there any cameras?”
He didn’t answer. He just kept carrying her down one hallway after another, his stamina and determination making her laugh and kiss him wherever she could. The smile that bloomed on his face at her affections—and even her light mocking—made her burn with more need.
“Here,” he said as he opened a door before rushing through it.
The back of her head banged on the door-frame, and then a low-hanging light-bulb. She winced. “Um, ouch.”
“Sorry.”
Ducking a bit—her body curled over him—she glanced around. And then she nearly laughed again. “We’re in a janitor’s closet.”
“Yeah,” he said, voice full of guilt. “I…we don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to. I know you deserve a room better than this.”
“Than a janitor’s closet?” Her eyes came across a bottle of window cleaner before she returned her attention on his face.
He frowned. “This was a bad idea.” He lowered her, her body sliding against his. “I’m sorry for—”
She pushed him against the door and kissed him harder. His arms flailed a bit before encircling her once more, his hands snaking beneath her shirt.
She smiled into the kiss. She grabbed his under armor and tugged on it.
He pulled it up and off of himself, his lips barely leaving hers as he did so.
She followed suit with her own top.
His large hands groped her breasts, even as she angled her hands behind herself to undo her bra. Once that garment was dropped to the floor, his fingers rubbed her nipples hard.
Georgia arched into his touch. Heat pulsed through her, making her mind spin and the flesh between her legs moisten. Shakily, she unzipped her jeans before shoving them and her panties down to her ankles.
Ben undid his own pants. As he pushed them down, she grabbed the hem of his underwear and pushed those down, too.
His member was already hard. The sight of it sent a pleasant shiver coursing through her, and before she could consciously think to do so, she placed her hot southern lips over his manhood.
Together, they adjusted themselves. Limbs tangled with one another’s—light brushes between her clit and his member—a strangled moan burst out of Georgia. She grinded against him over and over again until he finally got himself in the right position. And then he thrust into her.
Primal ecstasy took over. On instinct alone, she met him thrust for thrust. The warmth of him, the friction, the scent—it was perfection.
Soon, she came hard. A wild cry tore from her throat as pleasure overwhelmed her senses. As she trembled from the power of it, she felt Ben’s hot seed shoot into her a few seconds later.
He choked out her name as he came.
He continued to thrust into her—adding to the sweet aftershocks of the orgasm, though he moved at a slower and slower rate until he stopped altogether.
Georgia collapsed against him, her forehead pressed into his shoulder. Smiling, she kissed the flesh there.
He shuddered. “Go out with me?”
Still dazed, it took her a few seconds to process the words. When she did, she blinked hard. “You mean…on a date?”
“Yeah. Would you?”
Affection flooded her system. “Of course.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Oh, and, um, can we…um, this is awkward, but can we keep it just between us for now? I don’t want the press getting involved in my personal life.”
She giggled, shaking her head against his shoulder. She wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or sympathetic, but by this point, she didn’t doubt for a second that he had issues with the press. She kissed his shoulder again. “Sure thing, Ben.”
His entire body loosened up, practically sagging against the door.
CHAPTER THREE
The next few weeks were some of the most secretive and romantic weeks of her life. Georgia had never been one to hide anything about herself—good or bad—so to do so now felt odd. But she managed it well. It helped that she was the team photographer, so wherever Ben went, she went. They spent time together under the guise that it was work-related, and then they would sneak off to a hotel and rent a room under false names.
It was ridiculous how much fun it was. Ben was a pretty goofy guy when he wasn’t busy trying to be the perfect role model. Or whatever it was he had been telling her.
The best part though was when he was himself with her
and
with other people. He seemed the most at peace then—winking at cameras rather than running from them, telling jokes without caring if people understood them or not—he was just…him. And it was wonderful.
Georgia was curled up in her hotel bed in the middle of the night when someone knocked on the door. Huffing, she opened one eye to check the clock.
It was two in the morning. The Vipers had an away game to play later that morning, and she was supposed to be out on the field before the team in order to get some dramatic shots of the field and of the fanatics. Not “fans”, fanatics—the people crazy enough to come early to an already early game. God bless them.
Someone knocked on the door again, louder this time.
Georgia slowly slid out of the bed reluctantly leaving the soft silk sheets. Then she grabbed a hotel robe from the closet beside the bed and wrapped it around herself before trudging to the door.
Tiredly, she opened it.
Ben stood there casually dressed, and his face fell the second she opened the door. “Did you even look through the peephole?”
Stifling a yawn, she rubbed her aching eyes. “What?”
“We’re in a different city, in a different state—you need to check your peephole before you answer the door. I could have been armed for all you know, hell-bent on kidnapping you.”
She looked him up and down. Though grogginess had subsided, she was weighed down by enough tiredness to be irked. “Is this some kind of test? Just so you know, I know how to kill a man just by breaking his nose the right way.”
“What if you break it the wrong way?”
“Then I keep breaking it until he dies.” The absurdity of the conversion hit her hard, and she shook her head. “Did you seriously wake me up to discuss self-defense?”
“No, but now that you’ve brought it up, we really should talk about it.”
She withheld a groan. “Ben, it’s late. What do you want?”
His expression softened, lips quirking upward. “It’s a clear sky tonight. I thought maybe we could do a little stargazing on the roof.”
Her eyes widened, her heart melting into a pool of warm, gooey adoration. A part of her had thought he would want to have a quickie—something she was not opposed to, despite the hour. This was…so sweet. Her body’s response to it—the flipping of her stomach, her heart
still
melting—it made it hard to breathe.
Ben tilted his head and blinked a few times. “So is that a ‘no?’”
She smirked. “It’s a ‘yes’.”
He beamed.
While Ben took off his jacket and placed it in between the door and the door-frame, Georgia walked toward the roof’s edge. She hugged herself in a loose grip, the chilly winds making her skin tickle and her heart thud a little slower.
The sky was gorgeous. Despite the city’s light pollution, there were many, many stars—of various shapes and colors—that dotted the sky. It was like staring at glittering water in the dark.
Despite knowing better, she was tempted to reach up to feel the sky.
Georgia jumped when two large arms wrapped themselves around her waist, a broad chest pressing into her back. She relaxed into the warm embrace a second later. Tilting her head back against his shoulder, she could feel Ben’s breath brush her cold face.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” he said.
“Yeah. Thanks for waking me up.”
He kissed her cheek.
She blushed so hard that she swore she could feel the coldness of her face evaporate, her flesh warm once again. God, she was like a teenager.
“Stargazing always makes me think about the future,” he said, tilting his head upward. “I was staring at the sky when I was trying to figure out which college I should go to. And then the night before the draft picks, I watched the moon for hours.”
“I try not to think too much about the future,” she said. Just the word “future” made her chest tighten. “I think about the past sometimes though. High school was fun. So was college.” She smiled wistfully, remembering all the trouble she got into—all the drama.
“School was work,” Ben said, shaking his head. “I was proud I got through it, but it’s not something I would want to repeat.”
“I think you did school wrong.”
“I think
you
did school wrong. Party girl.”
She laughed, holding it back just enough so that it came out a breathy sound. “I was more like a free spirit. Still am.”