Authors: A.C. Netzel
I walk back into the bedroom. Ben blinks a few times and cocks his head to the side. What now? Is there toilet paper stuck to my foot? No, I’m barefoot, I would notice that. “What is it?” I ask, as I throw my bra on the floor toward my jeans.
“You look nice like that. No makeup and just my shirt. I like it.”
My face is heating up. I hope I’m not as red as I feel. “Thank you for allowing me to borrow it.”
“Just so you know, I can request my shirt back at any time.”
“I have no doubt you will.” I smirk. “Are you hungry?”
“HmmMmm,” he hums. “Hungry for you.” I didn’t know it was possible to be in a continuous state of lust. But I can’t help myself. His words, those panty dropping smoldering glances, his strong muscular body, those soft lips…all of it, I want him. I always want him. And judging by the way he’s looking at me, he wants me just as much.
I’m more than happy to oblige in our licentious longings, preferably over and over again. But first we need to eat. At least I do. I can tell I’m fifteen minutes away from an early morning concert of my stomach growling. I’m not ruining this moment with that embarrassment.
“Don’t you want breakfast?” I ask.
“I want you for breakfast,” he growls.
I look at him and smile. “I’d like to cook a proper breakfast for you first.”
“I can wait.”
“I can’t. You can wait here if you want.” I lean down and give him a quick peck on his lips.
“Are you really leaving me here all alone?” He pouts.
“Yes, Ben. My stomach trumps all the parts of my body that have trouble resisting your charms.”
“Which parts in particular can’t resist me? I’d like to keep track.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m bringing all my parts with me. Do you like omelets?”
“Yes. I’ll come with you. We’ll make breakfast together. Let me grab my sweats.”
~o0o~
Ben is standing in front of his opened refrigerator, pulling out ingredients for our breakfast and placing them on the countertop next to him.
“Do you like mushrooms? Swiss cheese?” he asks.
“Yes to both. I thought I was cooking.”
“I thought
we
were cooking,” he says, stressing the “we” as he closes the refrigerator door.
“Okay.
We
are cooking.” I pick up a package of turkey bacon off the countertop. “What is this?”
“Turkey bacon.”
“I know it’s turkey bacon. Why would anyone eat it? It’s not real bacon.”
“It’s healthier. Less fat.”
“The fat is what makes it taste so good.”
Who switches out bacon for healthier options? That’s insane.
“It’ll clog your arteries,” he explains as he places a frying pan on the stovetop.
“But it tastes so good.”
“Don’t you want to eat healthy?” he asks.
“Ben, need I remind you that I consider cupcakes an acceptable dinner alternative?”
He smiles and nods. “That’s right. Very well. Real bacon next time.”
Next time?
After washing the mushrooms, I stand at the counter with a cutting board and knife and slice them. Ben is slicing up the cheese and whisking our eggs. “I never get the chance to ask you when I’m there because of Vivian, but how’s work going for you?” he asks, as he takes the mushroom slices and pours them into the hot frying pan.
“Good actually. Vivian has been gradually giving me more responsibilities. I have more one-on-one time with authors. I’m learning a lot more than just editing. She has me sit in on marketing and production meetings. She wants me to learn the ropes. It’s a great opportunity. I’m so grateful she has faith in me.”
“You deserve it, Julia. You’re an excellent editor. She’s lucky to have you.”
“Thanks.” I think I deserve it too, but it’s nice to hear.
“So, this one-on-one time. It’s only in the office?”
“Mostly. Sometimes out of the office.”
“I hope not at Emilio’s?” he asks, his voice uneasy.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, I think of it as our place.”
“We have a place?” I ask, confused. I thought only traditional couples had “a place”.
He pauses for a moment, and furrows his brow, like he’s carefully considering what he’s about to say next. “I know how Emilio’s sangria affects you. I wouldn’t want someone to take advantage of you.”
“Oh, like you did?” I joke.
“I did not take advantage of you. I walked you to your door. I was a perfect gentleman.”
I remember that well. Poor BOB came out of his drawer twice that night.
“Yes, you were. You didn’t take advantage of me until a few days later.”
“Complaining?” He raises a brow, giving me a knowing look.
“Never,” I answer, giving him the same knowing look back.
“Good. Keep those other authors at arms distance. I don’t want them to get any ideas. We’re all untrustworthy perverts.”
“Says the man who has me strip for him every chance he gets.”
If I didn’t know Ben was Mr. Laid Back and Casual, I’d think he was jealous.
Ben is cooking most of the meal while I put on a pot of coffee. It’s a real treat to watch him in action. He really does enjoy it. When he’s finished cooking our omelets, he walks to the front door of his apartment and opens it. He crouches down to pick up an awaiting newspaper, tucks it under his arm and quickly closes the door. Bringing our omelets and coffee, we sit at the kitchen table. He places the newspaper between us. I grab it first, taking each section apart and rearranging it in the order of importance: gossip, fashion, sales, television, magazine, news, sports.
He’s watching me intently with a confused look on his face. “What are you doing?”
“Organizing the paper.”
“You don’t think they’ve already organized it?”
“They didn’t organize it the way I like.”
He nods, looking amused. We quietly eat our breakfast, each lost in our chosen sections, mine being Sales and Ben’s Sports.
I’m flipping through a Christmas circular from a big toy store chain when I see something that melts my heart. I smile and sigh.
“What?” Ben peeks over the sports section.
“I was just looking at a toy in this circular that reminded me of a stupid stuffed animal I spent an entire summer trying to win in a crane game on the Boardwalk in Seaside. It drove me crazy.” I turn the paper around for Ben to see. “See this elephant in a tutu. It’s so close to the one I wanted, except mine was smaller, the elephant was green and the tutu was hot pink.”
“Sounds ugly.”
“It was hideous. But I was thirteen and I had to have it. I don’t know why they made it green. I was obsessed. I went through so many quarters that summer. The stupid things you get stuck on, right?”
“I suppose,” he says as his eyes focus back to the sports section. I’m done reading my sections, but now Ben’s moved on to actual news. How dull. I loudly plop down my papers a few times on the table, trying to get his attention, but he’s focused in whatever he’s reading.
I should stop staring, but he looks sexy when he concentrates on his reading. Maybe I should offer to get his glasses in his study. He looks really hot in them. Slowly, I lift up my bare foot and hook it around his calf, rubbing it up and down.
He lowers the paper, peering at me. “Something you want, Julia?” he mutters darkly.
“I have ideas.” I slowly sink my teeth into my bottom lip.
“Care to tell me about these ideas?”
“I’d rather show you.” I unbutton the top button of my shirt, casually gliding my index finger across the top of my breasts.
This captures his attention. He places the newspaper down on the table then cocks his head to the side, looking quite amused.
“Nice shirt,” he notes suggestively.
“Thanks. I like it,” I say innocently, batting my eyelashes.
“I want it back.”
“You’ll get it back when I’m done with it,” I say, still gliding my fingers lightly across my breasts.
“You’re done with it,” he states flatly.
“You think so?”
He nods, with a salacious look that could melt the sun. I stand up and walk over to him.
“You want it? You’ll have to take it from me,” I tease.
He stands up from his chair and steps inches from me; I feel the heat from his body. He leans in close to my ear, gently pushing my hair to the side and lightly kissing my neck. “Gladly,” he murmurs. The hum of his voice does to me what it always does, sets my insides on fire. I close my eyes and whimper.
I actually whimper.
What power this man has over my body. One by one, he unbuttons the shirt, kissing my neck as each inch of fabric opens, exposing my breasts.
“Ben,” I whisper.
“Shhh… Come with me.” He takes my hand and we walk silently to his bedroom.
~o0o~
Ben’s lying on his back while I’m cuddled up next to him in our post coital bliss. His calves weren’t the only stiff muscles Ben had. There’s one muscle in particular he sure as hell knows how to use.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Mmm, perfect. You?”
“I think perfect is the perfect description.”
“Are your legs okay?” I ask.
“All three are doing fine,” he says, grinning.
It takes me a minute, but the light bulb finally goes on, and I realize he’s talking about his dick. I playfully slap his chest. “You think you’re funny?”
He chuckles. “I’m fucking hilarious.”
“You’re going to land on Santa’s naughty list if you keep up that language.”
“I like the naughty list. I remember a few naughty acts that may place you right there next to me. Looks like it’s coal for you this Christmas.”
“It was worth it.” I snuggle in closer. “So… what are you doing for Christmas?”
“Every year I go to my sister’s house in Connecticut.”
“What about Christmas Eve?” I ask.
“Nothing. It’s just Christmas Eve.”
I jerk my head back as my eyes widen. “Just Christmas Eve? In my family, that is
the
day. Christmas Eve is a bigger celebration day than Christmas Day itself. It’s my favorite day of the year.”
“Why’s that?”
“My entire family gets together at my parents’ house in Jersey. We eat, drink, eat some more, play penny poker, eat again, and open presents. It’s chaotic, loud, and insane. It’s the greatest. There’s nothing in the world that could replace it. Just thinking about it makes me happy, like sitting on the beach late at night under the stars or watching the sunset over the bay. It’s magical.” I smile cheerfully. “Christmas Day is always quiet. Church and back to bed.”
“Sounds like fun. I’d love to see that. I’ve always had a pretty tame day, just me, my sister, and my parents. It’s a very typical small family Christmas.”
“Tame is the last word I’d use to describe our Eve.” I hesitate and look at Ben. Do I go there? Should I? Oh, fuck it. “You’re welcome to come experience it if you like.”
“Meet your family?”
“Experience a traditional New Jersey Italian-American Christmas Eve dinner. Ben, don’t think I …” Oh God, he’s going to think I’m inviting him as a boyfriend. What have I done? I’ve totally fucked this up. “I... I meant come as my friend,” I stutter.
His body slightly stiffens; I know his wheels are turning. He’s working on his “This isn’t going to work out” speech. I fucked up. I’m finally getting laid by someone who knows what he’s doing and I just screwed myself… Or I’ll be back to screwing myself once he cuts the strings. Dammit. Why couldn’t I keep my big mouth shut? Stupid. Stupid.
“Okay,” he says, as his body noticeably relaxes.
He said what?
“On one condition,” he continues. “Since Christmas Day is no big deal for you, come with me to my sister’s and experience an All-American traditional Christmas Day. You can keep me company. It’ll make the day a little more interesting, for me at least.”
“Really?”
“Sure, why not?” He shrugs.
“Okay, let’s do it.” I nod.
Chapter 12
“What time do you want to catch the Express bus tomorrow?” Allie asks.
“Oh, we don’t need to take the bus to Jersey. Ben is driving us there.” I cringe on the inside. There’s a reason I kept this information from Allie until the last minute.
“You’re taking Casual Ben to your parents’ house for Christmas Eve?”
“Yes,” I answer dryly.
She leans back against the kitchen counter, narrowing her eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that. He didn’t have plans, so I invited him. It’s no big deal.”
She slowly shakes her head, her disapproval obvious. “Julia, I hope you know what you’re doing. I don’t want to see your heart broken again.”
“Allie, it’s only dinner with my family.”
“It’s
Christmas Eve
dinner,” she says, stressing the day. “Is he staying for Christmas Day too?”
“No, we’re going to his sister’s house for Christmas Day.”
There’s a long uncomfortable pause. I know exactly what she’s thinking. “Julia, all I’m saying is be careful. It sounds to me like this relationship is getting serious for you. That’s great…as long as you both feel the same way. But if he wants to continue to keep this relationship casual, you need to know. It seems to me that your feelings for him are deeper than you care to admit.”
“I know what I’m doing, Allie.”
“Do you, Jules?”
“Yes. I do. My friend had no place to go on Christmas Eve. I invited him. That’s all.”
“The guy you’ve been sleeping with for two months. That
friend
? I think you need to take a long hard look at whatever this is between the two of you before it’s too late for you to turn back. You’re falling in love with him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I am not in love with Ben. I like him. We have fun. I’m not looking for love. You know that.”
“You may not be looking, but from where I’m standing, I’d say it found you anyway. Be honest with yourself.”
“I hear everything you’re saying.” I sigh. “Look Al, you’re seeing things that just aren’t there.”
“You may hear me Jules, but are you listening?”
“Yes, I’m listening. I appreciate your concern. I do, but you’re off the mark on this. I don’t want a romantic relationship.”
“You drag yourself out in the freezing cold, something we both know you absolutely hate, to go to Brooklyn and watch him run a marathon. Do you think I didn’t figure out where you really went that day? You stay over at his apartment to take care of him after. Now he’s meeting your family?”