The Stillness Of You(8)

It was startling. My physical reaction to him. I was no angel, in fact, I   was about as far away from angelic as you could get, and had been  since  about the age of fifteen.

God, I was the girl who would screw anyone, anytime, anywhere, because I   could. Because I had the power. Because my brain chemistry was so   fucked up that I felt like I could do anything I wanted with no   consequence and the high was incredible.

How many times had I had sex for the express purpose of having sex because I could? Not because I wanted to? Or even enjoyed it?

Too many times to count.

And the thing of it was, I don't have a problem with anyone-girls or   guys-hooking up because they want to or because it felt good. I don't   have a problem with that because they own their bodies and as long as   they're in control emotionally it's all good. Hell, I wouldn't give a   rat's ass if someone had an orgy every single night as long as it's what   they wanted.

There was no judging.

The problem with my past was that most of the hookups and crazy shit I'd   done had been because I could, because they filled in the holes and   made me feel powerful, not because I wanted to and that's a huge   difference.                       
       
           



       

But now I had Ben Lancaster with his eyes that were way too dark and way   too sexy and at the moment, in this silence that blanketed us, they   were way too damn intense.

I should have dragged my gaze from his and studied Stallone's sculpture.   Maybe glanced up at the sky and commented on the humidity and the fact   that I thought it was going to be a bitch of a day. I should have done   anything to break this connection. But I didn't. Instead I caught my   breath and just took him in.

His hair curled around his face, the humidity and moisture making the   waves crazy and those damn eyes were relentless as they stared back at   me.

"Do you want to … " My voice trailed off as I nodded toward the top of the stairs.

He didn't look away and my mouth went dry. "Yeah, I want to."

"Okay," I managed to get out as I took a step back. "Last one to the top is a dumb ass loser."

I whirled around and bolted, my legs pumping fast and furious. I   couldn't handle the way he was looking at me because I didn't want it to   stop. And that was so wrong. There could never be a Ben and Georgia   because on what planet did a guy who had everything ever end up with   someone like me? Someone damaged. Someone who popped lithium and   klonopin because if she didn't things would go to shit.

Someone who could snap at any moment.

I flew up the steps, my lungs burning as I took them like the devil was   on my ass, and I suppose in a way he was. A hot, delectable devil that   represented everything I wanted and could never have.

Guys like Ben Lancaster belonged with girls who could handle life. He   belonged with a girl who wasn't afraid that every single day she was   moving closer and closer to an inevitable end.

One her mother had taken three years ago.

My bracelets jangled crazily as I reached the top and I shook out my   hands, but the decision to nip whatever the hell it was between us in   the bud, died when I glanced back and watched him walk toward me. He'd   just cleared the top step, a huge grin on his face and I couldn't help   it, my lips curved and I giggled.

He was walking around in a circle, swaggering and throwing his arms down   like he was in the ring. The Rocky theme song fell from his mouth and   the more exaggerated his moves got the more I giggled.

A few early morning souls appeared from nowhere and glanced our way but   he didn't care. He didn't care about any of it. When was the last time   I'd been with someone who just didn't give a shit?

Okay, let me rephrase. When was the last time I had been with someone who didn't give a shit and wasn't higher than a kite?

But then something changed. Something subtle yet so powerful the hair   stood up on the back of my neck. My mouth was still dry and I fingered   my empty water bottle. I thought that even if the damn thing was full,   it would never quench the thirst I was feeling.

Ben advanced on me, his steps slow and assured, like a lion or a tiger on the prowl.

Instinctively, I took a step back, my belly clenched, my heart beating   so fast I was pretty sure both Ben and the people behind him could hear   it. Hell, the sound of it clogged my ears and for a second I was   disoriented.

And then he was so close to me that his musky, potent scent filled my   nose. It was like spice and mint rolled into one. Hot and cold at the   same time. It washed over me, it fell into me, and oh my fucking god did   I like it. No one who had just run for over an hour and a half should   smell as good as Ben Lancaster did.

For one frozen moment in time I stared up into his eyes and waited for   something to happen. His thick lashes were moist, beads of sweat pebbled   across his forehead, and his breathing was as ragged and broken as   mine.

I opened my mouth to say something. Anything.

We can't do this.

We're so wrong for each other.

Matt will kill us.

"Do you feel this?" he whispered hoarsely. "You have to feel this. It   can't just be me. There's no fucking way it can just be me."

My mouth was open but nothing came out. I felt all of it. Every. Single. Bit of it.

And then his hand slid behind my neck, cradling me just above my   shoulders, his long fingers moving over my body with a hunger and an   urgency that I matched. I might have moaned, in fact, I'm sure I did   because his eyes widened, and his lips parted.

I felt … I felt crazy but without the crazy.

It was the anticipation. It was all the moments and seconds and minutes   that had passed between us over the last few days. It was that first   time I'd glanced over my shoulder and spied him in Matt's loft. It was   his breath at my cheek the night before. It was want.

It was all of that and so much more.

"I feel you," I whispered.                       
       
           



       

And then his hot, demanding mouth was on mine, and that so much more, became suddenly clear.

It was everything.





Chapter Seven





Ben





Georgia felt amazing.

Better than I'd imagined and trust me, I had spent most of the night   lying in that pullout sofa that was about two sizes too small, thinking   how good she would feel curled up against me.

Or beneath me. Naked. Preferably totally fucking naked.

I had been dying to wrap my arms around her and kiss her senseless ever   since dinner the night before. It's all I had thought about. How I  would  taste her, hold her, devour her. Christ, staring across a dinner  table  and watching her eat was too much. She made eating a meatball  look like  oral foreplay and the thing of it was, she wasn't working it.  She was  listening to whatever bullshit I was saying and she was  nibbling on that  piece of meat and I was envisioning her mouth nibbling  something else  entirely.

It had been a long night.

And this morning, watching her run to the top of the museum steps, her   sweet round ass and those trim dancer's legs right there in front of me,   was nearly too much. I'd been battling a case of the nerves ever since   I'd laid eyes on her in the kitchen a few hours earlier.

Me. Ben Lancaster. A guy who had not gotten this worked up over a girl   since my older sister Amanda's best friend, Tiffany, took my virginity   when I was fourteen. I'd been a wreck then, but shit, there was a hell   of a lot of experience between the guy I'd been-a kid who had blown his   load five seconds in-and the guy I was now.

I'm not boasting but in my world women were like candy, and I might have   been a lot more concerned about the type of candy I ate than some of   the guys on my team, but I sure as hell liked to dip my fingers in every   now and again and taste whatever was there.

My point was that I knew my way around women, but this girl, this hot   little package with eyes that felt as if they could see into my soul,   she had me tied up in all sorts of knots.

And she felt fucking fantastic.

I groaned as her mouth opened beneath mine, it felt that good. Her   tongue danced along the edge of my mouth before she sank deep inside. I   heard her make a noise, a half wild kind of sound, and my dick sprang  to  life as my hands buried themselves into her hair. It had come loose   from her ponytail and at the moment I was using it as an anchor to hold   her head steady so I could taste every inch of her.