Every Hidden Truth (Far From Ruined #2)

16. Post-Orgasm Glow

16

Post-Orgasm Glow

It was almost eleven by the time Ben parked his silver Impala in my driveway. His black tie hung loose around his neck, his curls mussed chaotically from my fingers. Even though we’d stopped dancing an hour ago, his cheeks had remained candy-apple red.

I had to hand it to him, Ben was a great dancer. I might have grinded against him in embarrassingly inappropriate ways, but it had been worth it. I was willing to admit that dancing was fun. At least, dancing with Ben was fun.

“Thanks for coming to the dance with me,” he said as he put the car in Park but left it idling.

“It was fun,” I admitted, and he beamed at me.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks for going with me.”

He reached across the center console and took my hand, bringing it to his mouth so he could kiss my knuckles.

“Do you want to come in,” I said, and his fingers twitched against mine.

He studied me for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, I wanna come in.”

My heart leapt into my throat. “Cool.”

Exiting his car, I crossed the packed snow, careful not to lose my footing. His car beeped as he hit the lock on the fob, and I grinned madly as I hurriedly unlocked the front door.

I turned on the lights as Ben removed his coat, then his shoes. I followed suit, nerves exploding in my stomach.

We both straightened, staring at each other as the space between us charged. Then we moved at the same time, meeting in the middle as our mouths crashed together. My hands were in his hair, and his were tracing my suspenders. Then he hooked a finger under one and tugged it off my shoulder.

Oh, clothes were coming off? Hell yes!

I ripped at his tie, then attacked the buttons of his shirt as he pushed me backward toward the couch. We stumbled, trying to kiss and move and undress at the same time. Ben laughed into my mouth, and I grinned as he abandoned my suspenders to unbutton my shirt.

“This okay?” he asked.

My answer was stripping his shirt off and nodding with way too much exuberance. I chucked his shirt somewhere behind me as the back of my knees met the couch. Before I could fall back on it, he was spinning us so he could sit down. He tugged me into his lap until I was straddling him, and we both yanked at my shirt until it joined Ben’s tie on the floor.

Undershirts followed, and then it was skin on skin and I was shoving him down until we were horizontal. Splayed beneath me, chest heaving, he gripped my hips as I ground my ass against him.

He barked my name, and I smiled, doing it again. Then a third time.

Fingers cupped my neck, yanking me down to reinstate our desperate kisses. He tasted like sparkling punch and faded spearmint. I wanted to crawl inside him and never leave.

“Silas,” he said, but I kissed him to shut him up.

I didn’t want to talk. I was so tired of talking. But Ben was Ben, and he pushed against my chest until our mouths broke apart.

“Silas, are you—”

“I’m fine,” I interrupted, trying to kiss him again. He stopped me, and I growled in irritation. “Ben, I’m fine.”

Perched atop him, there was no risk of his weight suffocating me, and though my heart was racing, it was from arousal and excitement, not fear. I ran my hands down his beautiful body, slipping one between us. His eyes fluttered shut with the sexiest groan.

“And I can see you’re fine too,” I teased, adding more pressure.

“Silas, wait,” he said, hips jerking.

I groaned in frustration, lowering until I hovered over him, hands on either side of his head. “Stop overthinking this,” I said, dragging my lips along his jaw. I guided his hand to where I wanted him most, and we both moaned. “This is how good I’m feeling right now.”

Our eyes met, his pupils blown out, lips already swollen from our kisses. I smiled down at him and rocked against his hand.

“Can you feel how much I want you?” I asked.

He said, “Yes.”

“Do you want me?”

He said, “Yes.”

I nipped at his bottom lip. “Then show me.”

And Ben did.

He made quick work of my belt as I tried to open his slacks one-handed. But then his hand was on me, and my brain blanked out.

“Oh fuck.” My forehead met his shoulder, a full-body shudder wracking through me.

“You with me?” he panted in my ear, his voice rough.

I nodded.

“Who’s touching you, baby?”

Oh my God, was he seriously trying to make conversation, right now? I could barely think, let alone talk!

“You are,” I gasped out.

He chuckled darkly. “Who’s touching you?”

“F-fuck. You are, Ben.”

“That’s right. I’ve got you. You’re doing so good, baby.”

I buried my face in his neck as I moaned.

I lost track of time, surrendering to the pleasure of Ben’s touch. I could have been floating for a minute or a millennia. Ben was moaning in my ear, and I was babbling words that probably weren’t even words.

And then everything peaked and then crashed and I was boneless.

I blinked lazily, watching Ben’s Adam’s apple bob as he panted up at the ceiling. There was a mess between our bodies, but I didn’t even care. I never wanted to move again.

Warm fingers drew designs on my back, and I hummed in bliss.

“You still with me?” he asked, voice wrecked.

“Yeah,” I whispered, “I’m still with you. Just... braining is hard right now.”

His body shook beneath me, and I smiled into his neck as he turned his head and pressed a kiss to my sweaty forehead.

“That went well,” he said a while later after we’d used my undershirt to haphazardly clean up.

We lay on our sides, balancing on the couch as our legs tangled together. Ben traced my features with the pad of his index finger, and I was perfectly content for the first time in a long time.

I snorted. “Told you.”

“Don’t get cocky,” he chided.

I bit his finger when he tried to follow the shape of my lips. “You’re ruining my post-orgasm glow.”

“God forbid,” he mocked.

“Shush.”

To shut him up—and because I literally loved kissing him—I pressed my mouth to his, running my tongue along the seam. His lips parted, allowing me inside, and I kissed him thoroughly, fingers digging into the back of his neck.

We parted, and light passed over his face and the wall behind the couch. He sat up, wrapping an arm around my back to keep me from falling off the couch completely.

I looked over my shoulder. “What was that?”

“A car in your driveway,” he said.

I shrugged, settling back onto the couch. “Probably someone turning around. Come back and kiss me. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready for round two.”

Ben chuckled, still staring out the window. “So, it’s an SUV, and it’s parking in your garage.”

It took a second for the overwhelming horror to form into an actual thought, but when it did, it was like a bucket of ice water, dousing every good feeling in my body.

“Oh my God, that’s my dad!” I shrieked, flailing as I lost my balance and crashed onto the floor. “Oh fuck. Get dressed, Ben. Don’t let my dad see your nipples!”

Why that seemed important, I didn’t know. All that made sense was that if Dad saw Ben’s nipples, he’d somehow know I’d had my mouth on them.

We sprang into action, Ben nearly tripping over his own feet as he scrambled to standing. I tucked everything away and hopped in place to get my jeans back on my hips. Buttoning and zipping them, I searched the floor for my shirt.

“Silas, where’s my shirt?” Ben crawled across the carpet, but I ignored him, too busy with my own hunt. “Where’s my shirt?”

“I don’t know, just find it!”

I shoved my semen-stained undershirt under the couch and snagged my black button-up from the floor. With one arm in the shirt and one still bare, I heard the dreaded turn of a lock. Time slowed, like in a bad dream, and I watched the doorknob jiggle. Then it clicked. The door swung open.

Ben dropped out of sight behind the couch, and I made like a statue as my dad stepped through the doorway, fresh snow dusting his salty chestnut hair. I stared at him, eyes wide as his gaze flitted over my half-dressed body, sex-mussed hair, and mortified expression. His thick brows drew down in a puzzled frown.

“Hey, Dad.” I grimaced as Ben leapt up from behind the couch with a triumphant whoop, his shirt waving like a victory flag.

“Found it. It was behind the…” His voice trailed off as he noticed my dad, and his skin tinted puce. “Couch.”

“Your nipples,” I squeaked, and Ben shot me the most confused look as he slapped his hands over his chest, covering said nipples.

We stood in awkward silence as my dad’s focus ping-ponged between us. His expression of bewilderment bled swiftly into understanding then mortification. Paling, he schooled his features, clearing his throat noisily.

“Silas,” Dad said in greeting, grudgingly turning to a still-shirtless Ben to say, “Silas’s… friend?”

I might have whimpered.

Ben shot me an alarmed look, but I was rendered mute. There were no words in the English language that could make this better.

But, bless him, he tried.

With a quirky, what-the-hell grin, Ben shrugged and walked right up to my dad, extending his hand. “Mr. Brigs, hi. I’m Ben, Silas’s boyfriend.”

I may have whimpered a second time.

“It’s really good to meet you,” Ben said as Dad hesitantly shook the offered hand. Glancing down at himself, he flushed a darker shade of red. “I realize now I should’ve put my shirt back on before introducing myself. Sorry about that.”

“Jesus Christ, Ben.” I buried my face in my hands.

After two stressful seconds, Dad sent me a questioning look but addressed Ben. “It’s good to meet you, Ben. Call me Charlie.”

“Put your shirt on,” I hissed, and Ben glared at me from the corner of his eye.

“I would have but you threw it behind the couch.”

A strangled sound scraped my dad’s throat, and his previously pale face flushed.

Unfreezing, I grabbed Ben and yanked him away from my dad, snarling through clenched teeth. “Stop talking and put your goddamn clothes on!” Facing Dad, I tried to smile. “Hi, Dad. So awesome you’re home right now. Ben was just leaving.”

“I was?” Ben asked and I waved my arm behind my back, smacking at him blindly.

“Oh. My. God. Benjamin!”

He had the fucking audacity to giggle. “Right. I was just leaving.”

Dad still hadn’t moved, staring at us like he’d give his left kidney to be anywhere in the world but here.

“If you find my undershirt—” Ben started to say, choking off as I glared at him with the heat of a thousand suns. “Okay, I’m going.”

To my dad, Ben said, “It was good to finally meet you, Charlie. Sorry that you saw my nipples.”

I whimpered a third time.

Thankfully, Dad ignored the nipple comment as he said, “Drive safe, Ben. The roads are slick.”

“Will do.” Ben returned to my side, hesitantly curling his fingers around my stiff fist. “See you later?”

Like he couldn’t bear the awkwardness any longer, Dad shuffled toward the kitchen with a muttered, “I’ll just, uh, leave you to it, then.”

The moment he was out of sight, I smothered my humiliated groan in Ben’s chest. “Please tell me this is a nightmare.”

He cupped the back of my neck with a comforting squeeze. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.”

“You said nipples in front of my dad!”

Chuckling sheepishly, he massaged my neck and pecked the top of my head. His breath warmed my scalp as he spoke into my hair. “I’m sorry if you weren’t ready for me to meet him.”

“It’s not that.” I straightened and smoothed a hand down his wrinkled shirt. “I promise it’s not that. I just wish he hadn’t literally caught us with our pants down.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t exactly the first impression I was hoping to give.” Our foreheads met, and Ben sighed. “Call me later?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He kissed me chastely, and I tangled my fingers in his shirt to keep us connected for an extra moment. His lips teased mine as he spoke through the kiss. “It’ll be fine. Your dad loves you, Silas.”

Somehow, stating that simple truth helped. “Yeah, I know.”

“But, still, call me later.”

“Okay.”

After stealing another kiss, he winked and opened the front door. “Find my tie, won’t you?”

I flipped him off as he ducked into the winter night, leaving me to face my father alone.