Chapter 44
44
BEN
I’m antsy.
It’s the only way to describe the energy thrumming through my body. Knowing Hope and I will be alone tonight is making it hard to focus on anything. After having her and Evan in my space two weeks ago … looking after them is all I’ve thought about.
She’s been doing the single parent thing for pretty much Evan’s entire life. Even though she was married, Wyatt was often away serving our country, leaving Hope to raise their son alone. Then the unthinkable happened, leaving her the sole parent. She works so hard to provide for them both, and even though she’ll say she’s done a terrible job of raising Evan, she’s still given him everything she has.
Tonight, I want to pamper her, care for her, and help her relax. I want to give her the break she deserves.
Wyatt’s parents picked up Evan from The Paw Palace , and I came straight home to clean up the house and prepare dinner before Hope comes over straight from work. Soft music plays over the speakers, and the steaks are marinating for a special dinner. I have the bathroom upstairs ready and waiting and her favorite shows lined up. I want to make tonight special. She deserves to be treated like a queen, and that’s what I intend to do.
Rex races to the front door as a car pulls into the driveway. She’s here.
I walk to the front door with a glass of wine in hand and push it open. When she reaches the porch, her eyes land on me and sparkle beneath the afternoon sun. “Hey.” I kiss her cheek and pass the glass of wine to her in exchange for her purse and overnight bag, then hold the screen door open.
“Hey.” She holds up the glass with a sassy smirk. “This is nice,” she says as she walks beneath my arm, ducking inside with a familiarity I’m thrilled about.
“It’s only the beginning.” I close the door behind us, and she bends over to greet Rex. It’s hard to believe she was ever concerned about him with the way she loves on him. “How was work?”
She blows out a long breath. “Busy. Saturdays are always crazy busy. I’m glad I only work one Saturday a month.” Something I bet she does so she’s not home alone all weekend when Evan is with his grandparents. She sips her drink as she walks down the hallway toward the back of the house. I’ve noticed she likes to sit on the back deck and watch the ocean. “I only work because Evan spends the weekend with Wyatt’s parents, and I couldn’t bear to be home alone all weekend.”
“Makes sense.” I hook the straps of her purse over the banister and take her hand, tugging her back toward the stairs. “Follow me.”
She tilts her head to the side, but follows without question. I lead her through my bedroom and into the ensuite. Her gasp echoes against the tiled walls and floor, and her wide eyes find mine. I smile at her, pleased with her reaction.
“This is gorgeous.” She places her glass on the bathroom counter beside a group of lit candles, then slides her fingers across the wall tiles. “I love these tiles.” Her eyes scan over the room, taking everything in.
I lean over and start filling the tub, checking the water temperature to make sure it’s perfect for her. “I’m happy with how everything turned out. I still need to renovate the main bathroom and downstairs powder room, but with only me here, I didn’t see the need to rush.” Maybe I should move it higher up my list of things to do. Just in case. “Do you think I should use the same combination of tiles and counters in the other bathrooms?”
“I guess so. It would help keep the feel of your home consistent.”
Hopefully, one day, it’ll be our home, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
I stand and turn in time to see Hope snap her eyes away from me, then swallow. That pink blush I love so much makes its way up the side of her neck. I’ve caught her gaze lingering on me more often since the first time we kissed. It gives me hope that maybe she’s getting closer to moving our relationship forward.
She waves her hand around the room. “What’s with all the candles and the bath?”
“Well.” I step closer to her and lay my hands on her shoulders. My thumbs stroke her delicate collarbones with no direction from me, and I watch as a shiver makes its way through her body. “You work too hard and I want to pamper you … starting with a quiet glass of wine and a long soak in the tub.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asks with a sexy lilt to her voice. It’s playful and I love how she’s relaxed enough with me that she’s letting her flirty side out a little more. “What else do you have planned?”
I tap the end of her cute nose, loving the freckles there. “You’ll have to wait and see.” I kiss the spot I just tapped and back away before I drop my mouth to hers. Walking backward, I grip the door handle and take one step over the threshold.
“Enjoy your soak, Cookie. If you need anything, just shout.” I wink and close the door, dropping my forehead to the wood. It’s going to be murder knowing she’s sitting in that giant tub for two—completely naked.
Naked and wet.
I blow out a long breath and adjust my sweats. I’m doing this for her. She needs this. She deserves this time to herself.
I get busy slicing the potatoes for the bake and rinse the broccoli. Rex watches me from his bed, his eyebrows shifting as his eyes follow my every move. “Yeah, buddy. I know. I’ve got it bad.”
“Ben!”
I drop the knife and race upstairs, taking the stairs three at a time. Gripping the doorknob to the bathroom, I almost jerk it open. Then I remember she’s naked and I shouldn’t barge in—as much as I want to. “Yeah? You okay?” I call through the door.
“Yeah. Can I please have some more wine?” I hear the tap turn on and water pouring into the tub.
“Uh, sure. Back in a sec.” I probably should have thought to bring the bottle up with me before. I race back downstairs, grab the bottle, race upstairs, and freeze at the door. “I’m back with the wine.”
“Great,” comes her reply.
How in the hell am I going to do this? She’s in the tub. Naked . I pace back and forth, running my free hand through my hair like a crazy person.
“Are you coming in?” she calls, like it’s no big deal she’s in the tub.
Naked .
Naked and wet.
Fuck .
“Ah, sure.” I try to think of as many un-sexy thoughts as I can and steel myself to keep my eyes averted from the tub, picturing where everything is in the bathroom so I don’t mistakenly look at her. “Are you covered?” Hopefully, the bubbles I poured in earlier are still intact and will keep her hidden in case I accidentally slip and drop my eyes.
“I’m in the tub. What am I supposed to use to cover myself?” she asks, laughter evident in her voice.
Shit. I roughly push my fingers through my hair, then adjust my sweats. “The bubbles?” Is that too much to ask? I’m hanging on by a thread here.
“I hate to tell you the bad news, but they’re gone. I can cover the important bits with my hands if it’s such a problem,” she shares her solution like I haven’t been at war with myself to be a gentleman when all I’ve wanted to do was barge in and wash her back … and front … and everywhere in between.
I swallow and grip the door handle like my life depends on it, twisting it until the catch releases, almost crushing the metal in my fist. The snick sounds like a gunshot, and my heart ricochets inside my chest. Dropping my eyes to the floor, I take the few steps over to the side of the tub. Picking up her empty glass, I turn my back to Hope and fill it, then place it back on the side of the tub, aware that her exposed shoulder is right there and it would be so damn easy to lean down and place a kiss on her warm, wet flesh.
She chuckles behind me, and I’m glad she finds my predicament amusing. “Ben?”
Sweat trickles down my spine, and my dick grows thick at the rasp in her voice. “Yeah?”
“Turn around, please?”
Does she even understand what she’s asking?
She’s fucking naked .
Naked and wet .
As much as I try to be a decent human being, I’m just a man. A mere mortal who’s itching to turn around and lay my eyes on what I’ve only ever imagined. I clench my empty hand into a fist at my side. “I’m trying to be a gentleman here, Hope. Help a guy out.”
The sound of the water sloshing around in the tub breaks the silence in the room, and her wet hand wraps around my fist, teasing it open. Her fingers slide between mine and she tugs. “Ben,” she murmurs. Her tone on the brink of begging.
I clear my throat and clench my eyes closed, turning toward the tub. I deserve some kind of award for this torture. “Yeah, Cookie?”
Can she see my hard on? Her face has to be at eye level with my dick, for fuck’s sake.
“Open your eyes,” she whispers, and I can’t miss the desperation in her voice.
I peel my eyes open. My greedy gaze sails over the tub, and within seconds, I have her shape seared into my brain. Her curves are slight, and her breasts are smaller than I’m used to, but she’s perfection to me.
Utter perfection.
Stunning porcelain skin, turned pink from the warm water, and neat curls sit at the apex of her thighs. Out of politeness, I drag my gaze away from her body to her face. Her long curls are piled haphazardly on top of her head in that sexy way I’ve grown used to seeing, leaving her neck and shoulders exposed. Her clear eyes gaze up at me, and I swallow roughly.
She’s watching me with a mixture of uncertainty and false bravado. I squeeze her fingers, then flip her hand over and lean down to press a kiss to her palm. Goosebumps race across her body, and her pretty pink nipples pebble into tight points. I place her open palm against the bulge in my sweats. “Do you feel what you’ve done to me, Hope?”
She swallows and nods slowly as she presses harder against my cock—some of her uncertainty fading. This is a gigantic step for her. It’s been a long time since she’s been naked in front of a man. On top of that, I’m a man who isn’t her husband. I need to remember to slow down and let her take the lead.
Pressing her hand against my dick isn’t taking it slow or allowing her to take the lead, but she doesn’t pull away. In fact, she rubs her palm along the hard ridge. “I feel it,” she murmurs.
I move, dislodging her hand to place the bottle of wine on the shelf behind the tub. “What do you need, Cookie?”
She turns around and leans forward, peering over her shoulder, then back up to me. “I was hoping you’d wash my back for me. And maybe sit and talk for a while.”
I nod sharply. “I can do that.” My voice comes out gruff, so I clear my throat.
It may kill me, but I can do it for her .
Dragging the wooden stool over, I sit and push up my sleeves. She watches with rapt attention as each inch of my forearms becomes exposed. Grabbing the sponge and the liquid soap, I add a generous amount and encourage her to lean forward further.
Once I’m satisfied, I glide the sponge across her smooth shoulders, watching as I cover every inch, ensuring I don’t miss a single spot.
“What do you want to talk about?” I ask, tracing the smattering of freckles scattered across her delicate shoulders.
“Anything.” Her back rises and falls with a deep breath. “How was Evan this morning?”
I chuckle. “He was in heaven. Tori had puppies today.”
“Oh, god. I bet he asks me for a dog again when I pick him up from his grandparents tomorrow.” The water around her ripples with her quiet laugh.
I squeeze the sponge, sending suds streaming over each vertebra down her spine, then dip the sponge into the bath, brushing the side of her body with my knuckles. “Probably.”
She looks at me over her shoulder. “I was sorta hoping the time he spends with you and Rex would satisfy his need to have a dog of his own.”
“Stay strong.” I rub the sponge down her arm, then back up to her shoulder, sweeping it across the slight curve to her neck. She tips her head to the side with a sigh, exposing her throat to me like an offering I can’t resist.
I tried.
I lean forward and kiss the pulse point there, relishing the contact for a moment before kissing my way higher until I can press a kiss to the tender spot behind her ear. Her body rises and falls as she sighs softly. I repeat the process on the other side, my erection growing by the second.
The water in the tub sloshes in waves as she turns her body to face me. My eyes follow the line of her throat, to her clavicles and lower still until they land on her pert breasts … the perfect size to suck and lick.
“Kiss me,” she murmurs. Her pupils are blown so wide they almost eclipse the aquamarine I love so much. She’s so damn irresistible, but does she have any idea what she’s asking of me?
I shift on the stool, making more room for my throbbing dick. “If I kiss you, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop, and I promised myself I’d go at your pace. Let you take the lead.” I keep my eyes locked on hers, so she understands what I’m saying. “But if I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll be able to do that. I won’t be able to stop.”
“Then don’t.”
Disappointment shatters every cell in my body, and I pull away, putting much-needed space between us. I push to stand, to give her the privacy she deserves, but she rises to her knees, looking like a wet dream, and shoots her hand out to hold me in place before I can climb to my feet. When she licks her lips and swallows, I watch her throat move with a fascination I’ve never felt before.
“I meant, don’t stop kissing me, Ben.” There’s a strength to her tone that gives me the assurance I need that this is what she truly wants.
I drop my hand to her shoulder, sliding it across the smooth expanse of warm flesh, up the curve to her throat, and grip her gently, reverently … respectfully. She melts beneath my touch, and I slowly lower my face to hers. Our breaths coat each other’s lips, and I savor the seconds leading up to having my mouth on hers again. I stroke my thumb back and forth across her pulse, watching it flutter wildly, then trace my eyes over her soft lips to her stunning eyes.
“Are you sure?” I murmur, studying her closely.
She nods. “So sure.”
I don’t need anything more. I crush my mouth to hers in a bruising kiss. It’s the way I’ve wanted to kiss her since the moment I first laid eyes on her. With my hand wrapped around the front of her throat, I tilt her head back so I can kiss her deeply. Her small moan vibrates against my lips, and I swipe my tongue across the seam, pushing my way inside. She opens, teasing her tongue against mine greedily, and it’s a relief to know she’s as desperate as I am. The sweet, fruity wine tastes delicious on her tongue, and I stay a while.
I’m in no rush.
I want to savor this moment with her.
Savor the intentionality of her request.
Her request for me to kiss her.
I take from her, then give double in return. She responds beautifully, participating in our kiss like her life depends on it. We stroke our tongues, tasting and licking. Connecting.
It’s sexy and addictive.
I love kissing. It’s the most sensual way to connect with someone on a deeper level.
But more than anything, I love kissing Hope.
I love the trust she’s giving me.
I love that she’s opening herself up to me after years of celibacy and devotion to the promise she made to her husband.
It feels spiritual in a way.
She pushes up higher, changing the angle of our kiss. Our mouths press together firmly, our desire increasing like an inferno. I cup her breast and moan at the feel of her flesh in my hand. The way her beaded nipple presses into my palm and the softness beneath my fingers. I slide my thumb back and forth across the hard point, eager for the moment I can take it in my mouth.
I slow our kiss with gentle pecks, pulling away so I can kiss my way down her body, but Hope’s fingers slip into my hair, gripping the longer strands on top, tugging my mouth back to hers. I smile against her lips, feeling the heavy beats of her heart beneath my palm. So vital. So here in the moment with me.
With me.
Pressing her wet body against mine, she deepens the kiss like she’s starving. And I guess, in a way, she is. It’s been too long since she’s been intimate with a man.
I can’t imagine the loneliness.
The bone-deep ache.
The emptiness.
I want to fill her up.
I want to soothe the ache and defeat her loneliness.
I never want her to feel that level of intimate isolation again.
I wrap both arms around her, keeping her close, but it’s not enough for her.
She climbs out of the tub and straddles my lap, soaking my sweats and my T-shirt, but I couldn’t care less. If this is where she wants to be, then this is where she’ll be. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she tangles her fingers in my hair, and grinds down over my dick, creating the most torturous friction known to man. A groan vibrates through my body, which Hope matches with a feminine moan.
The diamond points of her nipples rub against my T-shirt, and I wish I were as naked as she is. She rubs her pussy against me through my sweats, her lips still locked with mine. Her long fingers find the back of my T-shirt, and then she drags it up my back, tugging and pulling until I have no choice but to release her so I can tear it over my head. Once I have it off, I toss it to the floor and pull her back against me. A sigh escapes at the beauty of finally having her skin against mine.
Much the same way as the morning we woke together on the couch, I slide my hands down each side of her slender body, my thumbs teasing the sides of her breasts, until I grip her hips and guide her up and down my rock-hard length, still covered by soaking cotton. At this point, the shield between us is essential, or I’ll slide into her pussy, and I’m not sure she’s ready to go that far.
Delicate moans and whimpers escape Hope’s mouth as she works herself toward her release. Her body is flushed pink from the warm bath and her exertion, and I’ve never seen her look more beautiful as she takes what she wants from me.
“Ben,” she whimpers.
“What do you need, Cookie?” I rumble against her lips.
“I-I-I feel so empty,” she breathes. “I need you.”
“You’ve got me. Heart, body, and soul.” I take her mouth again and slide my hands over the curve of her ass, squeezing the cheeks and following the seam down to her pussy. The heat and slickness are unreal, and a groan rumbles from deep in my gut. I find her opening and slide one finger inside.
So fucking tight and silky.
Hot and perfect.
Hope rewards me with a whimper, pushing herself back onto my digit.
“You’re so fucking hot and tight,” I whisper against her lips. My dick grows excited at the thought of being inside her slick heat, but I ignore it. “You’re so perfect.”
Tonight is for her.
All for her.
I push my finger deep and then add another, building a rhythm that she matches easily. “How’s that feel for you? Because it feels fucking amazing for me.”