His (Reunited #2)

Chapter 1

Eden

She had barely collected herself in the lobby when it hit her.

That was him. Bryce. One of the two men from the island. One of the two men who had their way with her for three whole days. One of the two men she had coupled with at least four or five times!

Here! In her town!

She found a corner shielded by a giant monstera plant.

As she plopped onto an ottoman, she instantly thought of the one that had barely supported three people during the final party at La Mariposa.

His name is actually Benson. Benson Smith.

The man who had liked her so much that he requested her as his date on Saturday night.

The man who tracked her down on Sunday and asked her to be his date to the party, where they hooked up with another guy and gave her the first – and wildest – threesome of her life.

Damnit!

Eden could barely control her breathing as she attempted to wipe those memories from her mind.

Not here. Not like this. Not on such an auspicious day as the one on which she was getting her life together.

After having over a hundred thousand dollars hit her bank account, she wanted to invest it.

Smartly. Her friend Blair had recommended LPS because it was the one she used and had no complaints.

This was the day I really became an adult, damnit!

Whoever took her appointment was supposed to gently guide her through the logistics of investments.

Maybe ask her a few questions about her goals and future money-making plans.

Eden had practiced all morning. She was fine with sounding like a newb, but would at least be confident in sounding like one, damnit!

She never expected… not in a million years…

Benson. His name was Benson.

Eden was dumbstruck. She sat there, behind the monstera plant, wondering what the hell she should do.

I knew it. Deep down, she knew La Mariposa would catch up to her.

It had been too much fun. Too freeing. Too everything she had fantasized about when psyching herself up to go.

Every experience with both guys had been amazing.

Completely obliterating her experiences with anyone else.

Especially the sugar daddies! Oh, God, especially the sugar daddies…

Something wet and warm touched her cheek. Am I crying? Why! And how quickly could she get a tissue out of her purse to wipe it away?

She lowered her hands to see someone sitting across from her. She almost died.

“I wanted to apologize,” Bryce – no, Benson – said, holding up his hand to keep her from running off. “For how I acted up there. You didn’t deserve that.”

Did he act a certain way? Eden already couldn’t remember.

She only recalled losing her mind at the sight of Benson in a suit, his short beard delicately trimmed and aftershave killing her.

It was bad enough that he was so damn handsome.

To know that this was the man she had just been wrapped around all weekend? She wanted to weep. In embarrassment.

Now, here he was again! Still around! Still handsome!

And here I am… dressed like a frumpy secretary… She had put on her office best, which also doubled as interview clothes. The only new thing was the Jimmy Choo shoes, which she had splurged on the moment she got her pay and saw them in the shop window. Just a little treat to myself…

“Anyway, I’m…” His hands landed on his knees. Benson’s thighs were cocked open, but nothing about him screamed confident and ready for anything. Not like he had been less than a week ago. “This isn’t as a partner in my firm, by the way. I’m down here as me. Personally.”

“O… kay…” She didn’t know what else to say. With a sniff, she shoved her used tissue back in her purse and brushed the hair out of her face.

“Eden Hailstone.” Benson said her name as if they had known each other for years. Just because you know every inch of me… She shuddered. No. It wasn’t about Benson. It was about…

Me. What I’ve done. What it means now.

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Benson Smith.” He cleared his throat, attempting to draw sureness back into his body. “I wanted… I thought that… honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing. I just knew I couldn’t let you run out that door without explaining myself to you.”

She stood up; he stood up with her.

“Explain what?” she asked, looking up into his visage.

My God. He looks just like him now. The man who had held her, kissed her, and made love to her in wildly primal ways.

The man who had the kind of kink that had fired her up and turned Eden into someone she didn’t know she could be until that weekend.

This man did that to me. The other one helped, but…

Benson had been at the center of the fun, from the moment he sat next to her at the Low Light party and said the magic passcode that let him have her right there. In ten minutes, he had barbarically made her his.

And now she looked into those eyes again.

She beheld that straight nose. The defined jaw with dark hair.

And the slightly aged skin showed him to be considerably older than her.

Yet that look on his face? Despite him having more life experience, he was just as winded as she right now.

Some things… they didn’t matter how old you were when they happened.

They just happened, and you were left to deal with them on the spot.

“I ran down here because the thought of you leaving and never seeing you again, when I have this once-in-a-lifetime chance… I couldn’t. I couldn’t let you go. Br… I mean, Eden.”

Brim. He was going to say her codename from La Mariposa. Much like she couldn’t stop thinking of him as Bryce. Benson certainly suits him more. It was a name with much more gravitas and maturity. “Bryce” reminded her of frat boys looking to score.

“Couldn’t let me go?” She could barely keep eye contact with him. Yet she persisted, refusing to look like a deer caught in the proverbial headlights. I’d rather die. Just like the deer.

“You must know what I mean. After the island… I left, accepting that I would never see you again. Except you’re here. Nothing says that we can’t know more about each other. Unless… you already have someone else.”

I could say the same thing about you! “Are you asking me out?”

The way she blurted that made it sound like an absurd possibility.

After all, she had just been in his office as a potential client.

One who had nothing but professionalism and money on the brain.

Not how I made that money… She bit her lip, remembering how this man had tied her up to his bed to rail her, never mind ripping off her dress and sharing her with another…

She was blushing, wasn’t she?

“Maybe I am,” he said. “Not tonight. Tomorrow. If you’re available.”

Eden was still aghast. Not at his audacity, really, but the fact that she had woken up that day with only one thing on her mind, and it wasn’t sex. Let alone romance!

“This is not really appropriate,” she whispered.

He was taken aback. Literally. One step behind the other as Benson tipped backward, eyes searching the lobby for anyone who had seen this happen.

Gone was the man who held no qualm about grabbing her in the middle of a room and saying with one breath, You’re mine.

How many times had he said that in a few days?

That she was his? That whenever she was with another man, she was really his?

Now, he faltered. Reality was here. Off the island, he couldn’t talk to her like this. He couldn’t strut up to her and say she was going out with him. Not without repercussions.

“I’m sorry.” After fixing his jacket and fussing with his sleeves, he inhaled deeply, reclaiming whatever dignity he had left. “I’m still on the clock, aren’t I? And you are a client.”

“Were,” she corrected him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t have you advising me.”

“Yes. Which is why I had the receptionist give you a referral to another firm that is not affiliated with me at all. I promise they’ll treat you with the same respect we have. I mean! Regarding your income. I mean…”

Oh, my God, did he see how much money I have?

All those papers Benson had been printing when she entered his office!

They were her documents she had uploaded online, right?

The ones detailing her meager assets and her recent payday?

He would know exactly how much she made being a fuck-bunny at La Mariposa!

He’s such a regular, he must know how to figure out how many times I screwed another man that wasn’t him!

Just like that, the excitement of the situation evaporated. Only a few days ago, Eden had begged this man to call her a slut. Except now she really felt like a slut – and all of the negative connotations that came with that word.

“Please forgive me.” Benson held his hands behind his back, as if that was what it took not to touch her.

“It wasn’t my intention to come on so strong, but I also know that intent is not magical.

” He scrunched his face. “Why did I say that out loud?” That murmur was uttered as he turned around, one hand on his face. “I sound like my daughter…”

“You have a daughter?” Eden squeaked.

There it was. Benson looking like the sorriest shit in the world. “Uh, yes. She’s grown. In college. She says things like intent is not magical and I think I’ve internalized it.”

He had a college-aged daughter. He had a college-aged daughter.

“How old are you?”

Benson opened his mouth, but didn’t speak. The best he could do was scoff. Finally, he muttered, “Forty-five. I’m also divorced, if it makes a difference.”

Divorced… adult daughter… This man was the pinnacle of baggage to a twenty-five-year-old like Eden. “You’re exactly twenty years older than me,” she blurted.

“I know. I mean, I figured it was like that.”

“I’m young enough to be your daughter.”

“Yes, well… guess it’s weird off the island.”

Was that it? Or was Eden just receiving too much information at once?

“I’m sorry,” he apologized once more. “I’ll go. Please… I’m sorry.”

He turned. As he stepped away, attempting to keep his shoulders square and some of his pride intact, Eden couldn’t help but feel some pull, some ephemeral tug yanking her toward him.

Was that the same string that had pulled him downstairs toward her? Was it some erroneous thread of fate?

“Wait.”

Eden fixed her purse strap as Benson slowly turned back toward her, uncertainty marking his aged yet handsome face. He doesn’t have a single gray hair. Did he dye it? Were his genetics just that good? How many other secrets did he have?

“Give me your number.”

The man looked at her as if she were joking.

“I’m serious. Quick. Before I change my mind.”

She fished her phone out of her purse and opened her notes app. Benson was right in front of her, his head slightly tilted and a grunt in his throat.

“404-555-1832.”

“Rhode Island, huh?”

His mouth slightly twitched as she punched those numbers into her app. “I went to Brown. Actually, my daughter goes there, too.”

He keeps bringing up his daughter now. Was that endearing? Or off-putting? “I might text you.” Eden put her phone away. “I might not. I’ll think about it.”

A curt nod was his official answer. “I know this is weird. Trust me, I feel it, too.”

“But?”

Despite them standing in the corner of a professional, corporate lobby, obscured only by one monstera plant, Benson leaned down and turned on some charm. “But I think we’d be stupid not to see where this goes.”

That was the note he left her on as he walked toward the elevators, not once looking back at her.

A security guard said something chipper to him, but Benson ignored it with only a slight hand wave.

Once he was in an elevator, Eden exhaled, her mouth open enough to expel every drop of air in her body.

She had to actively not think of him on her way home. The sooner she forgot about him, the better.