Chapter 19
TORI
Istare at the phone screen and wonder what the hell this is going to cost me.
Bennett: Copy that, Sunshine
The last thing I am right now is under control. I kick out of my heels and drop the phone on the counter, hands shaky.
From nerves, anticipation.
Desire.
I huff out a quick breath, loosening the clip holding my hair back. Unwinding the tightly wound spiral, I shake the dark waves free.
Better.
Rolling my shoulders, I stare out into the dark night. The ocean crashes in the distance, white moonlight dancing on the waves. I hurry over to the window and pull the curtains shut tight. Not that a boater out there can see anything in here, but just in case.
The condo’s quiet. Too quiet. I snatch my phone off the counter and scroll through my music, selecting the playlist labeled Date Night.
Oh god.
Date night.
This isn’t date night. I don’t know what this is — and that’s the most terrifying thought of all.
Bennett does something to me, with those ocean blue eyes, that cocky smirk playing on his lips. He shatters my carefully constructed self-control into pieces.
And that’s before he even touches me.
Knock, knock.
Two quick raps and I’m hyperventilating like a schoolgirl with a crush. I take a deep breath and swipe my palms down my skirt before checking the peephole.
“Hey.” I crack the door open to Bennett.
“Checking in.” His lips quirk as I spot Bishop standing against the wall within earshot.
“Great. We need to talk about the media thing from earlier.”
“Right. The media thing.” A smile tugs at Bennett’s lips as I wave to Bishop.
“I can take it from here.”
Bennett slips through the door, and I shut it quickly behind him. Energy shimmers between us, my heart hammering so loud I’m sure he can hear it. His eyes drop to my mouth and I can’t breathe, can’t think. Heat floods through me and my thighs tremble. He smells clean and masculine.
Dangerous.
“Your place is very… tidy. Organized.”
He glances around the space. Nothing’s out of place. My laptop sits on my desk, neatly stacked file folders beside it. A cream designer throw lies over the sofa and a lone vanilla-scented candle decorates the kitchen island. Other than that, there’s not much in the way of personal decor.
“I like to keep my living area clean.”
Bennett steps toward me, his pupils dark and wide.
“Do you ever think about getting messy?”
My stomach drops, breath catching in my throat. I swallow hard, blood whooshing through my ears.
“I…”
“Say it.” His voice is low and demanding, a thrill shooting through me.
I toy with the gold chain around my throat, warmth climbing up my neck like a kudzu vine.
The truth is I have thought about it — but only with him.
I’m not sure I’m ready to admit that just yet.
“You’re in control here, Tori. We can take this as far as you want to.” He brushes a lock of hair away from my eyes, sending tingles cascading through me.
I suck in a shaky breath, unsure of what to say.
Control’s my favorite drug — this is the first time I’ve ever wanted to quit.
Bennett does that to me.
“I want you to finish what we started in the elevator.”
His throat bobs. For once, he doesn’t have some smart-ass comeback.
Instead, he shifts forward, not waiting for any further invitation.
In one quick move, he’s in front of me, his hand winding around the nape of my neck.
Bringing me in close to him. Our bodies press together, the scent of fresh laundry filling my nose.
I want to fall into him, get lost in that smell.
His muscles flex as he locks eyes with me.
Then he ducks down and drops his lips to mine in a long, slow kiss.
I melt into him, all bold pretense swept away in an instant.
My eyes flutter shut as I open my mouth to his tongue, getting lost in this perfect moment. The pad of his thumb runs along my neck and sends a shiver rocketing through me.
Damn.
Bennett Steele is one hell of a good kisser.
Hot, possessive. Every movement fluid and rhythmic.
I can’t breathe. Can’t think.
And I don’t care.
I tangle my fingers in the damp waves of his hair, move down to his shoulders, run over his broad pecs.
I’ve wanted to touch him, feel him, for weeks. Fingers itching to reach out and trace the sharp outline of his perfect muscles.
“I want you,” I murmur into his open mouth, untucking my blouse from my skirt.
He smiles against my lips. “I knew it.”
Sliding his palm beneath the gauzy fabric of my shirt, his calloused fingers trace the smooth skin of my belly and wetness pools in my panties.
“Always so cocky, Steele.”
He pulls away slightly, a wide grin on his face. “You’re a terrible liar, Sunshine.”
I fist my hand in his shirt, pulling him closer and kissing him again.
Harder, faster. More intense.
My body telling him exactly how I feel because right now I don’t have the words.
He makes a low sound in his throat — half laugh, half groan — and his hands slide to my hips like they belong there. His mouth leaves mine, dragging a kiss along my jaw, and my head falls back. Exposing my neck and granting him access to the delicate area.
His lips graze my pulse point, dipping lower still until he’s at the base of my throat. He swirls his tongue on my skin, and I let out a breathy moan, my knees threatening to buckle.
“Bennett—” I try for controlled, but his name comes out shaky, breathless.
Inside, I’m burning.
He smiles against my neck. “Say my name like that again, Sunshine, and I’m not responsible for my actions.”
My stomach swoops and I sway unsteadily. With a tight grip on my hips, he backs me up against the kitchen island. The cool marble presses into me, supporting and grounding me for one quick second.
Then his thigh nudges between mine and that grounding vanishes.
Heat blooms between my legs and my breath catches.
Bennett pauses, brushing the rough pad of his thumb across my cheek.
Slow, gentle.
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.”
“Under control?” He arches a brow and I roll my eyes.
“You going to narrate the whole night?”
“I mean, it’s kind of my brand.”
“Stop. Talking.” I slide my hand from his chest down to the hem of his shirt, lifting it slightly. Bennett takes the hint, yanking the cotton over his head. He tosses the T-shirt to the ground unceremoniously and I let out a strangled sound.
He’s more gorgeous than I even imagined. All smooth skin and rippling muscle, with a six-pack and that deep V at his hips.
“You’re staring.” A smile dances in his deep blue eyes.
Smug.
“I’m assessing.”
“And do you approve?”
“Yeah. I guess it may have been worth all the sleepless nights, listening to Def Leppard while you pumped out another set.”
He chuckles, a dangerous, low rumble. My thighs clench, flutters low in my belly.
Bennett Steele’s standing in the middle of my condo, shirtless. Looking like he’s about to star in a sin I haven’t committed yet.
He steps toward me, his gaze locked on my blouse. “May I?”
His fingers hover over the delicate buttons and I nod, my breath stuttering as he slides the tiny plastic through the hole. One by one, revealing the lacy white bra underneath. The fabric falls away, sliding down my shoulders, as he traces the outline of the lace.
“Stunning.” He drops his lips to my skin, kissing my bare shoulders, the sharp line of my collarbone, the swell of my breasts.
Everywhere his mouth lands burns in the best possible way, like I’m being kissed by the sun.
I’ve wanted men before. But I’ve never wanted to be ruined by one like I do now.
Knock, knock, knock.
Three sharp raps.
“Ms. Prince.” Bishop’s muffled voice carries through the door.
I stiffen, sucking in a sharp breath. Bennett freezes too—then his lips twitch, like he’s enjoying my pain.
“Yes?” I attempt calm and controlled, but my voice comes out much higher than intended.
“Everything all right?”
“Shit…” I hiss, pulling my shirt back on and fumbling with the buttons as I hurry to the door.
Bennett stays right where he is, leaning casually on the kitchen island. Like he belongs there, halfway undressed in my immaculate condo.
I crack the door. “Bishop—”
“Checking in. You asked us to verify Mr. Steele was in for the night.”
“Right.” I say the word quickly. “Confirmed.”
“We’re all good here, Bishop.” Bennett’s voice drifts from behind me, calm and smug, and my face flames. “Everything’s under control.”
Of course he says it.
“Very good.” Bishop nods. “Do you need anything?”
“No,” I snap, too sharply. “Thank you, Bishop.”
He steps back, professional as ever. “Good night, ma’am.”
I click the door shut and lean my forehead against the wood, one hand braced on the panel to hold me upright.
“Really? Did you have to chime in?” I glare over my shoulder at Bennett and his annoyingly sexy smirk. Aggravation swirls and mixes with desire, a confusing cocktail in my gut.
I’ve built my entire life on being unshakable. One man shouldn’t be able to undo me so fast, so completely.
Bennett pushes off the island, slow and steady. Like he’s a hunter, his eyes dark.
“You opened the door. I was just helping out.”
“I did not ask for help.”
His gaze drops to my half-buttoned blouse, back up again. “Could’ve fooled me, Sunshine.”
I’m torn between kissing or punching him.
“Don’t mistake consent for surrender.” Then I lift up on tiptoe, brushing my lips against his. Soft and warm. Wanting.
“Not tonight. We can’t afford reckless,” I whisper, already regretting my life choices.
Because of course I want this gorgeous man in my bed, tangled up in my sheets.
But we can’t take the risk. Not with Bishop standing right outside. The league and my father watching.
This could blow up in both of our faces.
A flash of something raw cuts across his face. Disappointment, maybe. But it disappears as quickly as it comes.
“Take your time, Sunshine.” His gaze drops to my mouth and I instinctively lick my lower lip, tasting him. “But when you’re done being careful, I’ll be ready.”
He scoops his T-shirt from the floor, tosses it over his head, then presses a light kiss to the top of my head.
“Night, Sunshine. Sleep tight.” He shoots me a wink, then saunters out.
That kiss unravels me, more than anything he’s done the rest of the night.
Leaving me aching and questioning all my life choices.