When she didn’t answer right away, he looked over his shoulder. “Will?”
She bit her lip. “Don’t suppose you have any trance?”
After a surprised blink he chuckled. “A woman after my own heart. I was afraid you’d want opera or something.”
She shook her head. “Not to work out with. You need a fast beat.”
As the room filled with the sound of keyboards and the thrilling rush of a synthesizer, Willow began her warm-up.
Chapter Seventeen
Swimsuit in hand, the top part anyway, Willow cursed herself. She’d either forgotten her bottoms or else they’d fallen out in Ben’s truck. Hoping for the latter she went in search for him, stepping out into the hallway outside Dean’s office and following it down past several other doors and to the right, where Ben said the men’s facilities were located.
She gave a tentative knock on the swinging door, calling his name. When she didn’t hear anything she pushed the door ajar and peeked inside. Not seeing anybody in the dimly lit room, she slipped through the narrow gap and rested her back against the wall, waiting for her eyes to adjust. When they did she saw a large room with toilets on one side, showers on the other, sinks at the back. Lockers towered in the middle. The same heavy plastic benches from the gym were scattered around the lockers. But no Ben.
About to leave, she paused at the metallic click of a locker closing. She opened her mouth to call Ben’s name, but something came over her. Curiosity? Maybe. Mischief? Possibly. The almost feral desire to see him naked? Most definitely.
Tiptoeing around the bank of lockers, she edged past the last one and froze, gasping at the sight of a gloriously naked Ben in profile. He must have heard her because he glanced her way, apparently unashamed or uncaring of his nakedness. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of. Far from it.
Despite seeing him in swim trunks, Willow knew she gawked as if she’d never seen a naked man before. He stood tall, taut strength in his shoulders and arms leading to a hard chest with a light sprinkling of fine hair and rippled flat abs. Her mouth began watering before her gaze reached his narrow hips and the impressive erection springing from a thatch of dark blond hair. She could easily see the thick muscles in his thighs tighten and release, tighten and release, as if he were in flight-or-fight mode.
She’d seen the naked male form before. It was difficult not to catch a glimpse or two in the industry, but she’d never reacted like this. Lust, as of late a steady presence, spiked higher, making her skin feel dry, tight, itchy. Yet she could feel beads of sweat break out between breasts that felt uncomfortably restricted in her bra. Her tummy actually hurt, a deep aching emptiness that swirled low in her gut. Lower, she was primed and ready, her body slick with welcome.
“Don’t look at me like that, Will,” Ben growled, not meeting her eyes when Willow finally lifted them from the blatant sight of his arousal. He sounded angry, or in pain. Possibly both, if his thick, straining erection was anything to go by.
Then again, the only thing she knew about that never went beyond high school petting. “Like what?” Geez. Was that her husky voice? She cleared her throat, watching his eyes squeeze tight.
“Like you want to devour me.” His low whisper was a physical caress.
She licked her lips, because oh, yeah. She wanted to swallow him whole. “And if I did?”
He let out an agonized choke. “I’m trying to be a gentleman here, Willow.” He drew in a harsh breath. “You really need to leave. Now.”
Somehow Willow didn’t think that was what Ben wanted, and it certainly wasn’t what she wanted. Pulling a page from Ben’s book, she inched closer, saying, “I think it’s time for Phase Four of Pleasing Willow.”
Ben took a step back, his throat convulsing, his eyes bright with lust, longing, and something akin to desperation. “I mean it, Will.”
Inhibitions died as she settled on the edge of the bench next to his discarded swim trunks, watching his internal struggle between taking what he wanted and remaining the so-called gentleman. Helpful lady that she was, she decided to assist him
Curling a finger in the universal “come here” signal, she followed it with what she hoped was a seductive smile. “Come here.”
“Willow, honey.” Though his tone sounded like a protest, he shifted toward her, slowly, as if being pulled by some invisible rope.
Feminine power filled her, giving her a boldness beyond her wildest imagination. “I want to taste you, Ben,” she whispered, echoing his words to her from Monday night.
His control seemed to snap because suddenly his fist was in her hair, dragging her head back to meet his demanding kiss. There was nothing gentle about the way his tongue thrust heavily into her mouth. It felt like he was claiming her, dominating her. She was helpless, her back bowing under the onslaught. She was also eager and greedy, reaching out to stroke his cock.