Chapter 10 Benson #2
Benson missed him. The ache of it was a familiar, dull throb behind his ribs.
But to admit he still loved him? To say the words, even in the privacy of his own mind?
That felt like a concession, a surrender.
It would mean admitting Liam was right. That he was, and always had been, his own worst enemy.
And Benson wasn't sure he was ready to lose that war. Not yet.
I love him.
How did a man like him prove that?
The answer wasn't in strategy. It wasn't in a plan or a carefully worded text. Benson knew himself, like the brittle architecture of his heart. Logic had built the walls. Instinct would have to tear them down.
The chair scraped softly against the stone terrace.
Inside, the hushed, air-conditioned quiet of the club lobby felt a world away from the raw truth of the balcony.
He retrieved his coat from the check. Outside, the afternoon light was gold and forgiving.
He got in his car, and the engine turned over with a low, powerful thrum.
He put the car in drive, not with a destination in mind, but with a singular, unwavering purpose. He just had to drive.
Naturally, his drive took him to Liam’s apartment.
“Oh, fuck off.” That was how Liam greeted him when he opened the door. “The hell are you doing here? Driving me to drink again?”
Liam didn’t shut the door in Benson’s face, so that was a start.
“I came to say that you’re right. I’m the reason everything went to hell in every relationship I’ve been in, including the ones that you don’t know about.
I’ve got this stupid front to the world that I’m some tough guy who can handle whatever comes his way, but I’m not.
I like things safe and easy. People like you aren’t safe or easy. ”
“People like me?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how the hell did you mean it?”
Benson pushed his way inside, eyes locked on Liam’s. The man slowly backed up in his foyer, nearly tripping over his discarded shoes. Because Benson had that kind of effect on everyone he wanted, and he knew it.
“I love you.” Benson’s arms slammed to his sides, his coat rustling every time he tried to gesticulate. “I still love you. There. I admit it.”
Liam shifted between his feet. “That’s all it takes, you think?”
“You haven’t thrown me out.”
“Well, you haven’t made that big of an ass out of yourself yet. I think you’re heading that way, though.”
“Would you shut up and let me kiss you?”
“Let you kiss m—”
One stride closed the gap. His hands shot out, grabbing Liam's shirt, pushing him hard against the wall. The thud of Liam's back hitting the plaster was a sharp, satisfying crack.
And then Benson's mouth was on his.
There was no hesitation. Only a desperate, bruising kiss that stole the air from Liam's lungs. Benson poured every unsaid word, every hidden fear, and every ounce of the love he’d choked on into that press of lips.
All inhibitions gone. He wasn't thinking about men or women, about industry or image.
He was thinking about Liam. The taste of him, the feel of him, the gasp he swallowed as Benson's tongue forced its way inside.
Liam's resistance lasted a second. Then he melted.
His hands, which had been balled into fists, came up to clutch at Benson's shoulders.
His body arched, pressing closer, not away.
He was pinned. Trapped. Just like Eden had been in Benson's apartment weeks ago.
A raw, possessive thrill shot through Benson.
This. This was the power he craved. This complete and total surrender from the people he loved.
He broke the kiss, both gasping for air.
Benson's forehead rested against Liam's.
"You still want me out?"
Liam's struggled to chuckle. "Shut up and kiss me again before I change my mind.”
Benson knew he had this effect on people. And God, it was the best feeling in the world.
Their hands became a frantic battle. Liam tried to grab, to pull, to steer this frenzied dance toward the bedroom he deserved.
He fought for some semblance of control, his fingers tangling in Benson's hair, trying to tip his head to the side.
Benson would have none of it. He batted Liam's hands away, pinning them to the wall on either side of his head.
With Liam's wrists captured, Benson surged forward, his tongue plunging deep and leaving Liam gasping.
This was ending one way. In Liam's bed. Wild and desperate, just like they used to. Benson would be damned if he let this moment slip away, damned if he didn't see it through to the bitter, glorious end, if only to prove to himself he could.
He broke the kiss, leaving Liam panting against the wall, and ducked his head.
His mouth found the sensitive skin of Liam's neck.
Move on from me now, will you? A knowing cry escaped his lips as Benson's teeth grazed his skin.
While Liam was lost in the sensation, Benson's other hand yanked open the button on Liam's jeans, tearing down the zipper.
He bit down, hard, a perfect, purple bloom of a hickey marking his territory. At the same moment, his hand plunged into the open fly of Liam's pants, wrapping around the hard, hot length of him.
"Still want me to leave?" Benson snarled against the bruise he'd just made.
“I don’t recall asking you to leave.”
A smug, satisfied grin was the only answer Liam got. Benson's thumb swept over the head of Liam's cock, smearing the bead of moisture there, making him shudder. The kiss resumed, as Benson's fist worked in a steady, maddening rhythm, pulling Liam's length to full hardness.
Liam's surrender was complete. It was in the way his head fell back against the wall, in the soft, broken sounds he couldn't hold back.
That total capitulation was what drove Benson to his knees.
The hardwood floor was unforgiving, but he didn't feel it.
All he felt was the primal need to take, to devour.
He didn't hesitate. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Liam's jeans and boxers, yanking them down just enough. Then he took Liam into his mouth.
There was no teasing. Benson took him deep, the back of his throat convulsing around the head.
His hands gripped Liam's hips, holding him still for the onslaught.
It was a thought, sharp and clear in the haze of lust. If I can get blown in my kitchen, why the hell shouldn't he get some in his foyer?
Liam's hands flew to Benson's hair to anchor himself. His hips bucked while Benson took it all, the slight gag, the taste, the power of holding another man's pleasure in the palm of his hand. This was the proof. This was the point. Unapologetic. Unashamed. His.
For this moment, Liam was his. And, he supposed, it went the other way.
He could feel it building, the tightening in Liam's thighs, the way his breath stilled in his throat.
God, it would be hot as hell to take him right here, to have Liam lose it with the front door still unlocked.
But that wasn't the point. This wasn't about a quick, dirty victory in a foyer. This was about something more.
Benson rose to his feet in one fluid motion, ignoring the ache in his knees. He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of Liam's ear. "I'm going to take you to bed," he whispered. "And I'm going to remind you how much I love you."
Liam, even dazed and aroused, couldn't help himself. A taunting laugh escaped him. "I bet you won't fuck me half as hard as you fuck Eden's cunt."
I wonder if he knows… About what he did to Eden in her own bed. Liam wouldn’t be making these jokes, then.
But Benson didn't reply. He simply turned and walked away, heading down the hall toward the bedroom without looking back. He left Liam there, pants around his thighs, leaning against the wall for support. A challenge had been issued. And Benson always, always, accepted a challenge.
In the bedroom, Benson didn't waste a second.
He tore at his own clothes, buttons popping and fabric ripping.
His coat hit the floor, followed by his shirt.
The last sliver of twilight painted the room in shades of deep blue and violet, but he didn't bother closing the curtains.
Let the world watch. He didn't care anymore.
By the time Liam's silhouette appeared in the doorway, still hard and moving with grace, Benson was sitting on the edge of the bed. He was naked, stroking his own cock.
"Help me out," Benson said. "For old time's sake."
Liam snorted. He sank to his knees on the carpet. "You know," he quipped, his gaze fixed on Benson's length, "I'm starting to understand Eden's endless drive to suck our cocks to death."
Then he leaned in and took Benson into his mouth.
Benson leaned back, bracing himself on his arms, and just let go. He loved every second of it. The past didn't matter. The future didn't exist. There was only this room, this bed, him, and Liam. As it should be.
My cock in his mouth. His entire body was being worshipped by someone who loved him. Benson's cock disappeared down Liam's throat. He groaned with his own movements, the slow roll of his hips that became faster, harder. He was fucking Liam's face.
But it wasn't about control. Not this time. It was about giving and taking. The raw, honest pleasure that pulsed between them, a current as powerful and undeniable as the tide. This was the truth. This was the only thing that had ever mattered.
“Fuck, your throat is definitely as tight as hers.”
Liam stopped long enough to catch his breath and say, “Really? You’re gonna talk about her right now?”
“Why the hell not? She’s our girlfriend. We were talking about you the other night while I broke her back in my bed.”
“I swear to God, you’re insane. You just say whatever you want in another man’s bed.”
“Shut up and suck my cock.”