Beautiful Bombshell
Page 17
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“I miss this,” I said, covering the mark I’d made, pressing down on it. “All the time.”
She nodded, said my name. I could hear the frustration in her voice as she reached for something to hold on to, her other hand moving down between her legs.
“That’s right,” I said, watching her touch herself. “Get there. Make yourself come.”
It must have been what she needed because she cried out, spine arching as she pushed back against me. I was close, could barely think and so f**king hungry for it I could hardly breathe. My legs burned, muscles protesting as I thrust into her over and over. The legs of the bench scraped against the stone floor; the leather creaked beneath us.
“Bennett. Fuck, Bennett,” she said, and heat pooled low in my stomach, building and building until it was pulsing through me, my vision going dark and fuzzy around the edges as I came.
Every part of me seemed to give out at once as I collapsed, panting and exhausted, gripping the bench for support.
“Holy shit.” The room was spinning and so quiet that my voice and even our breathing seemed to echo off the marble. I wondered how loud we’d been.
She stood, wobbling the slightest bit as she straightened her clothes and moved to a stall to clean herself up. “You know I have to walk around after this?”
I grinned. “Of course.”
“You did that on purpose.”
I rolled to my back and blinked up to the sparkling chandelier. “At least I let you come, too.”
I knew I should straighten my clothes and find the boys, but right now all I wanted to do was sleep.
She moved to stand over me, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to my mouth. “You need to go get some dinner or you’ll be drunk by midnight.”
I groaned, trying to pull her down to me, but she escaped by shoving her finger between my ribs. “Ow! Isn’t that the point?”
“I’m sure they’re wondering where you are.”
“I told them I had an ulcer to get them to go on without me.”
“And they believed you?”
I shrugged. “Who the f**k knows.”
“Well, go convince them that you’ve recovered from your completely unbelievable illness and I’m going to meet Sara.”
“Fine,” I said, standing to pull up my pants. I watched as she leaned forward, smoothing out her hair in the mirror. “Where is Sara?”
“She’s meeting up with a friend who lives here. A dancer, I think? Some sort of cabaret or stripper thing at Planet Hollywood.”
“Now that sounds interesting,” I said.
She met my reflection with raised brows before continuing. “Anyway, I had a feeling I was being stalked and told her to go on without me.”
“A feeling?”
She shrugged, applying her lipstick. “A hope.”
Snapping the cap back on her makeup, she closed it up in her purse and I followed her to the door, lifting a hand to her face. “I love you anyway,” I said.
“I love you anyway, too,” she said, leaning in to kiss me before slapping my ass, hard.
I could still hear her laughter long after she disappeared through the door.
Four
Max Stella
I watched out the rear window as Bennett’s long, purposeful strides carried him down the sidewalk. He looked back over his shoulder and hailed a taxi as soon as he thought we were out of sight.
Bloody hell. For someone known for being so absolutely unflappable, he was a mess. He hadn’t even kept up that flimsy charade of an illness long enough to see us down the end of the street and ’round the corner.
I turned back in my seat, watching as the lights and tourists roaming the sidewalks passed by in a blur, and let my thoughts move to Sara. She’d said she felt hollow with how much she wanted me, and Christ, just the memory of those words was enough to wreck me all over again. She was so rarely demanding, and even during our busiest weeks when we hardly saw each other, she was the patient one out of the two of us, always insisting we’d make up for lost time on the weekend, or on a Wednesday. For her to tell me she needed more tonight made it almost impossible to deny her. But I could see, in her eyes, the way she’d immediately regretted it, as if by telling me that she knew I’d be torn.
With her eerie sense of timing, my phone buzzed with a text from her: I’m fine, honestly. I’m sorry I distracted you.
I smiled as I typed my reply: Alas, you’re my favorite distraction.
Have fun with the boys tonight, she wrote back.
A loud pop drew my attention and I blinked over to where Henry and Will had uncorked a bottle of champagne. “Show of hands for those of us who think Bennett just needed to rub one out in the bathroom,” Will said, offering me a glass of champagne. I waved it off, waiting instead for a real drink at the restaurant.
She nodded, said my name. I could hear the frustration in her voice as she reached for something to hold on to, her other hand moving down between her legs.
“That’s right,” I said, watching her touch herself. “Get there. Make yourself come.”
It must have been what she needed because she cried out, spine arching as she pushed back against me. I was close, could barely think and so f**king hungry for it I could hardly breathe. My legs burned, muscles protesting as I thrust into her over and over. The legs of the bench scraped against the stone floor; the leather creaked beneath us.
“Bennett. Fuck, Bennett,” she said, and heat pooled low in my stomach, building and building until it was pulsing through me, my vision going dark and fuzzy around the edges as I came.
Every part of me seemed to give out at once as I collapsed, panting and exhausted, gripping the bench for support.
“Holy shit.” The room was spinning and so quiet that my voice and even our breathing seemed to echo off the marble. I wondered how loud we’d been.
She stood, wobbling the slightest bit as she straightened her clothes and moved to a stall to clean herself up. “You know I have to walk around after this?”
I grinned. “Of course.”
“You did that on purpose.”
I rolled to my back and blinked up to the sparkling chandelier. “At least I let you come, too.”
I knew I should straighten my clothes and find the boys, but right now all I wanted to do was sleep.
She moved to stand over me, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to my mouth. “You need to go get some dinner or you’ll be drunk by midnight.”
I groaned, trying to pull her down to me, but she escaped by shoving her finger between my ribs. “Ow! Isn’t that the point?”
“I’m sure they’re wondering where you are.”
“I told them I had an ulcer to get them to go on without me.”
“And they believed you?”
I shrugged. “Who the f**k knows.”
“Well, go convince them that you’ve recovered from your completely unbelievable illness and I’m going to meet Sara.”
“Fine,” I said, standing to pull up my pants. I watched as she leaned forward, smoothing out her hair in the mirror. “Where is Sara?”
“She’s meeting up with a friend who lives here. A dancer, I think? Some sort of cabaret or stripper thing at Planet Hollywood.”
“Now that sounds interesting,” I said.
She met my reflection with raised brows before continuing. “Anyway, I had a feeling I was being stalked and told her to go on without me.”
“A feeling?”
She shrugged, applying her lipstick. “A hope.”
Snapping the cap back on her makeup, she closed it up in her purse and I followed her to the door, lifting a hand to her face. “I love you anyway,” I said.
“I love you anyway, too,” she said, leaning in to kiss me before slapping my ass, hard.
I could still hear her laughter long after she disappeared through the door.
Four
Max Stella
I watched out the rear window as Bennett’s long, purposeful strides carried him down the sidewalk. He looked back over his shoulder and hailed a taxi as soon as he thought we were out of sight.
Bloody hell. For someone known for being so absolutely unflappable, he was a mess. He hadn’t even kept up that flimsy charade of an illness long enough to see us down the end of the street and ’round the corner.
I turned back in my seat, watching as the lights and tourists roaming the sidewalks passed by in a blur, and let my thoughts move to Sara. She’d said she felt hollow with how much she wanted me, and Christ, just the memory of those words was enough to wreck me all over again. She was so rarely demanding, and even during our busiest weeks when we hardly saw each other, she was the patient one out of the two of us, always insisting we’d make up for lost time on the weekend, or on a Wednesday. For her to tell me she needed more tonight made it almost impossible to deny her. But I could see, in her eyes, the way she’d immediately regretted it, as if by telling me that she knew I’d be torn.
With her eerie sense of timing, my phone buzzed with a text from her: I’m fine, honestly. I’m sorry I distracted you.
I smiled as I typed my reply: Alas, you’re my favorite distraction.
Have fun with the boys tonight, she wrote back.
A loud pop drew my attention and I blinked over to where Henry and Will had uncorked a bottle of champagne. “Show of hands for those of us who think Bennett just needed to rub one out in the bathroom,” Will said, offering me a glass of champagne. I waved it off, waiting instead for a real drink at the restaurant.
