Truly(104)

She meant it as a joke, but Ben didn’t seem to think it was funny. “Not fucking likely,” he said, and heat zipped through her, waking every part of her that had been anesthetized when she walked over the threshold into her parents’ house and back into her old life.

Her clit. Her heart.

Her defiant, unsatisfied self.

“Stranger things have happened,” she said. The Packers were ahead with twenty-three seconds left in the first half. Ben’s dark mood turned her on. His body, solid and real beside her. His presence. “I bet he likes tall women.”

Three seconds later, Ben had her underneath him. “Wait until I’m gone before you start running around with quarterbacks again, huh?”

“If you insist.” She found the hem of his shirt and pulled it out of the way so she could settle her hands over the divots at the base of his spine.

“I insist.”

He kissed her deeply, and she wanted to cheer, it was so exactly what she’d been hoping for. His tongue tasting of salt and beer, his arm braced against the couch behind her head. His anger transformed into movement, desire. No lies between them.

Ben’s free hand found her breast and rubbed her nipple through her jersey, but she pushed his hand aside and reached for her zipper. She didn’t need foreplay. Her pulse was beating between her legs, loud and desperate, and Ben was already hard. “You have a condom?”

“In my pocket.”

“Get it on.”

She unzipped her jeans as he tussled with his, raised her hips a few inches and shoved denim as far down his legs as she could. She spread her knees and said, “Hurry.”

“Will anyone come up here during the half?”

“Hurry,” she repeated, and he settled over her, testing her readiness with a fingertip.

“You’re not wet enough. Let me—”

She licked three fingers and dropped her hand between her legs, more to get him to stop talking than because she really needed it. There was moisture inside her, and the condom was lubricated. Ben would take care of the rest.

He watched her hand, eyes glittering. “That’s fucking hot.”

“My new quarterback boyfriend tells me that all the time.”

“Smart-ass.” Wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, he found the right angle and sank inside her.

“Ohh.” She arched up off the couch, seeking to get closer to him. To pull his heat deeper.

Their breathing became its own language, long exhales and short, gasping inhales voiced as quietly as they could manage. He felt so good, his thick length claiming her the way she’d been waiting for all day.

You’ve been waiting all day for him to claim you.

Guh, she had. She was. One more stupid hope, balanced on the cliff edge and waiting to be tipped over and dashed. Surely if he’d planned to claim her, he’d have done it already, rather than spend the day going along with the ridiculous lie Allie had invented.

Surely if she deserved his regard, she’d have said something. Done something by now. Something much more brave and definitive than sneaking him off for a quickie in the bonus room.

But what was he doing here, inside her house, inside her body, if not claiming her? Why make friends with her family, share a beer with her father, tease her mother in the other room if not because he wanted this, and he wanted everyone to know it?

Stupid questions. Stupid girl, to be getting her hopes up.

Still. Still. He’d made her this way. She couldn’t pretend, with Ben inside her body, that this half-assed, undefinable relationship of theirs was entirely in her head.

She squeezed him tight, digging her nails into his ass so he’d take her faster and rougher.

She couldn’t pretend not to care. He was leaving, and she cared.

She wanted him to stay with her, and she would tell him so.

She would clear things up with Dan. She would stand up to her mother. Tomorrow.

Now this was all they needed. His fingers tangled in her hair, wrapping it into a fist to create a tug against her scalp. Stinging pleasure to match the sharp intrusion between her thighs, the cutting pressure of his hips moving in rough, synchronized thrusts against her own.

Their joined bodies moistened until they began to glide, pleasure singing over her skin, tripping her lungs, curling her toes.

His mouth on her throat, open and hot. The scrape of his teeth.

Ben bit her neck. Hard.

“Ouch!”

“I owed you that.”

He nipped her lip, then kissed her. Purposeful at first, but soon the kiss lost focus. When he pulled away, his eyes were only half-open, his cheeks and throat flushed. “I’m close.”

“Touch me.”

He shook his head. Grabbed her wrist. Pushed her hand between them. “You.”