20. Hung Like a Stallion
20
Hung Like a Stallion
Later, after my mouth had done things to him and his mouth had done things to me, we lay in his bed, catching our breath. His head rested on my chest, one of his legs lying between mine. I stared at the ceiling, trying to collect my scattered, blissed-out thoughts.
We were naked, and as the sweat cooled, goosebumps erupted across my skin. I held Ben tighter in an attempt to soak up his body warmth. With a happy sigh, he snuggled closer, knee rubbing between my legs in a way that—unless he was aiming for a second round—would end badly.
“You okay?” he asked, and I nodded.
I ran my hand through his sweaty hair. “Uh-huh. I’m so good.”
“I have skills,” he said smugly.
“And I very much enjoyed them,” I admitted, and he laughed.
He drew designs on my chest, finger circling my nipple. “Me lying like this isn’t too much, right?”
My hand faltered. “What do you mean?”
“Lying on you like this,” he said, angling his head to look at me. “It doesn’t trigger anything, right?”
I hadn’t even thought of it. “No. No, I like it.”
Ben smiled. “Good.”
Lunging up, he kissed me, and I smiled as I tasted myself on his tongue. We kissed lazily, naked bodies tangling. I’d never cuddled like this before, and it was nice. The closeness, the lack of barriers, it was intimate in a way I’d never experienced.
Sure, I’d had sex before, but it hadn’t been like this with Eli. We’d hook up, then he’d send me on my merry way. There had been no intimacy there. Just two bodies working toward physical release.
But Ben kissed me like he could spend eternity doing so and never need anything else. He touched me like I was something important, something precious. He looked at me like I was the center of his universe.
I wasn’t used to being important to people; I wasn’t sure what to do with it. So I held on tight.
Rolling us onto our sides, Ben settled his head on the pillow, our noses brushing. Our legs entwined, the sheets pooling around our thighs. I admired the view, dragging my fingertips over the curve of his hip.
He conducted his own perusal, hands mapping my chest, then smoothing over my waist to cup the top of my ass. “You have dimples on your back,” he whispered like he was sharing a secret.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He smiled a little shyly, like he hadn’t just had his mouth on me. “It’s, um, it’s really sexy.”
My entire body lit up at the timid compliment. “Thanks.” My fingers played with the sparse curls smattering his chest. “I love this.”
He glanced down. “There’s not much there.”
I shrugged. “I still like it.”
Ben smiled through the shy insecurity swirling in his eyes, and I wondered if I was the first person to see him naked. Well, not counting the drunk girls he’d slept with, at least. I didn’t know how far he’d gone with his ex, and to be honest, it didn’t matter. But there was a small caveman piece of my brain that hoped I was the first person he’d chosen to share this with.
After a never-ending moment of eye contact, his gaze lowered, and he scanned my body from head to toe. I tried not to blush, praying he wouldn’t be disappointed in what he saw. He took his time studying every inch of me, and by the time he made it back to my eyes, my breathing was labored and choppy.
My eyes remained fixed on his face. There was a significance to this moment, and I didn’t want to miss it. Whether he felt the heaviness in the air or not, I couldn’t tell, but our eyes held as his hand cupped the side of my neck.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
The mushy sentiment shouldn’t have punched through me the way it did, and I had to swallow twice before I managed to say, “I’ve got nothing on you, love.”
The endearment slipped out, and I covered the possible faux pas by closing the distance between us and kissing him. His arms tightened around me, and we both gasped as our bodies lined up perfectly.
It was… different. It wasn’t sexual, but the feeling of our bodies fitting together seemed vitally important somehow. I’d never been in this position before, never been held like this by anyone, and I was overcome with the odd urge to run. There was a terrifying vulnerability to this that I had greatly underestimated.
Like he could read my desire to flee, Ben tightened his arms around my waist and brushed his nose against mine. A shudder wracked my body as he rested our foreheads together. We stayed like that forever, something unsaid vibrating between us. I wasn’t even certain what it was, but I felt the shift happen.
An unbreakable titanium knot coiled around my heart, locking into place as it forever tethered me to the boy in my arms. The power of the connection threatened to overwhelm me, and I clung to Ben’s neck as I tumbled into the ocean of his eyes.
The waves crashed around me, drowning me in the depths, yet it didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt like I’d lived my entire life gasping for air and only now discovered the relief of breathing.
Was this love?
Ben searched my face, asking something of me I desperately wanted to give, but I didn’t know how. Did he feel this too?
He nuzzled my nose with his, his lips tilting in a contented smile. He beamed at me like I was the reason the universe existed, and my ruined, withered heart shuddered with the need to soak him in like a sponge.
The moment was too much, too overwhelming, and I was wholly unprepared for it. I did the only thing I could think of. I kissed him, lips moving urgently against his as I buried my fingers in his hair and molded my naked body to his. One of his hands cupped my neck while the other splayed under my thigh, hitching my leg around his hip.
When we parted, barely a minute had passed, yet I had flown around the world and landed as a new person. Nothing had changed, but everything was different now. I loved Ben. Like, bone-deep, iron-clad, irrevocable love.
It was terrifying and exhilarating. I wanted more than anything for him to feel this too.
His lips ghosted over my forehead as I took a moment to calm my heart and admire his naked body. He was gorgeous, and I told him so. He smiled against my brow, hand tightening on my hip.
As the silence settled around us, I closed my eyes and reveled in the feel of his body wrapped in mine. A phone pinged, and I groaned.
“Probably your dad,” he said.
I huffed and grudgingly untangled myself from Ben’s limbs so I could reach my pants lying forgotten on the floor. I dug out my phone and woke the screen.
“It’s not mine,” I said, dropping my phone on my crumpled pants.
I returned to my position beside Ben, but his phone trilled a moment later.
“That’s a call,” he said, pointing over my shoulder. “Can you see who it is?”
Turning around, I plucked Ben’s phone from his nightstand and checked the screen. Patrick—whoever that was—was calling, but that wasn’t what had dread solidifying in my stomach. It was the contact picture.
Ben and some beautiful guy smiled at the camera, pressed cheek-to-cheek in a more-than-friendly way.
“Who is it?” Ben asked, and I held his phone out to him wordlessly as it stopped ringing.
An awkward silence stretched as he took the phone and checked the call log. He didn’t comment on who Patrick was or why he was calling. He just set his phone aside.
It rang almost immediately, flashing that damn contact photo again. He didn’t answer it, clicking the button to ignore the call. Less than a minute later, it rang a third time.
Ben grimaced. “He’s just gonna keep calling,” he said with an apologetic smile. He then proceeded to crawl out of bed and grab his underwear off the floor.
I gaped at him as he tugged his boxers up and over his ass, the phone continuing to trill.
He said, “I’ll be right back,” and then walked toward the bedroom door, bringing the phone to his ear.
“Seriously?” I said, but he was already walking out of the room.
“Pat? Hey!” he said as the door shut behind him.
I sat on his bed in shock, staring at the closed door as his muffled voice mumbled unintelligibly from the other side. I was literally lying naked in his bed where he’d just gone down on me, and he was talking to some other guy?
What the fuck?
With a huff, I turned to the cubbyholes of his headboard and searched the pictures he had framed there. Finding the one I wanted, I pulled it out and studied it. Ben stood between Caitlyn and the same gorgeous guy from the contact photo. He had dark skin and toffee-colored eyes, and I had the sudden and irrational urge to rip the picture up and set it on fire.
Caitlyn was in the picture with them, but Ben stood in the middle. Patrick’s arms were around Ben’s waist while Caitlyn held the camera. And Ben, blushing and beaming like he’d never been happier.
Oh my God, Patrick was his ex. And Ben had taken his call. On Christmas. While I was lying naked in his bed.
I returned the photo frame to its place and settled back on the mattress, trying not to get angry and failing. Sure, sometimes exes could stay friends, but why hadn’t Ben told me? We’d literally just had a conversation about his ex, and he’d failed to mention that they kept in contact. Wasn’t that something to be shared with a current partner?
Or maybe I was overreacting? Eli and I hadn’t spoken since I’d found the evidence of his relationship with Sam and flew off the handle. We’d had zero relationship aside from fucking when we were horny, so it made sense that when the fucking stopped so did our semblance of a friendship.
It might have slipped Ben’s mind to mention Patrick. When we talked about his ex, his focus had been on getting me naked, not expounding on the complexities of their relationship.
But he’d still taken the call. He’d left the room to talk to his ex. And I was right here. I was here and naked and Ben had taken Patrick’s call.
Ugh. Patrick. Seriously, what kind of pretentious name was Patrick, anyhow? Not to mention, he was literally the most beautiful human specimen I’d ever seen. And he was probably rich and nice and hung like a stallion.
And Ben had taken his call!
I was working myself into a temper now, and I fought to calm down. So Ben kept in contact with his ex. Big deal. If it was important or affected me, Ben would have said something. He wasn’t Eli. There was no possibility Ben and Patrick were still involved because he was with me. And even less likely was the possibility of him cheating on me with his ex. Ben wasn’t like that.
To calm myself down, I went to the bathroom and splashed cool water on my face. I glared at my reflection, a storm brewing in my gray eyes. My cheeks were still flushed from our activities, and I scrubbed at them, trying to erase the red splotches.
Since my mouth tasted like stale cum, I opened Ben’s medicine cabinet in search of mouthwash. I swished and spit, then returned the mouthwash to the shelf. The movement jostled a prescription bottle and it tumbled out of the cabinet and clattered in the sink.
“Shit,” I mumbled, grabbing the bottle to put it back.
And because I just couldn’t help myself, I read the label. Lexapro. Prescribed to Ben. I didn’t know what Lexapro was, but I remember Ben’s off-hand comment about taking his meds. Why did he need meds?
Not wanting Ben to catch me snooping, I returned the Lexapro to the medicine cabinet and returned to his bedroom. He was still out in the hall, laughing at something perfect Patrick must have said.
My phone beeped, and I jumped, tearing my gaze away from the bedroom door. I grabbed my phone from the floor, expecting to see a text from Dad asking when I was coming home. Instead I saw a message from Unknown waiting in my inbox.
Unknown: Merry Christmas
Okay, this was getting ridiculous.
Silas: Seriously, who is this?
I glared at my phone, but Unknown didn’t reply.
Settling back on the bed, I tried to ignore the sound of Ben’s muffled laugh. A voice in the back of my head whispered lies that I refused to entertain. It said I was a placeholder. I was a rebound. I was just something to help pass the time.
The thoughts niggled and wriggled, burrowing into my brain and sinking their teeth in.
Except none of that was true.
Ben chose me; he wanted me. And I was pretty sure I was in love with him, which meant trusting him. Whenever he was ready to talk about Patrick, I’d be all ears. But until then, I would trust him.
I hoped my faith wasn’t misplaced, because I was entirely at his mercy. He could destroy me, utterly wreck me. And if he did, I feared all the king’s horses and all the king’s men wouldn’t be able to put me back together again.