Chapter 20 #2
I fought a smile but didn’t argue, reaching for my menu instead.
It didn’t take long for either of us to decide what it was we wanted for dinner.
He ordered a New York strip steak, I got the filet, and we both opted for a cold beer on tap.
Soon after our drinks were delivered and we were left to ourselves for a while, Ben reached over and rested one of his large hands on the exposed skin of my thigh.
I glanced down at his touch, acknowledging to myself how much I liked his possessive hold.
Absentmindedly, I traced my fingertips across the barbed wire bracelet he had tattooed around his wrist, and I liked that, too. Innocent, light touches. It spoke of an intimacy I’d somehow managed to find with the man sitting next to me—an intimacy I never thought I’d know.
“Why barbed wire?” I wondered aloud.
“It’s a reminder.”
I sought out his eyes with my own as I asked, “Of what?”
“The only one who can keep me trapped is me.”
His words wrapped themselves around my heart and grabbed hold of me with a vice grip. The unwelcome reminder that I was trapped—would always be trapped, in spite of my freedom—left me speechless, momentarily robbing me of the happiness I’d found in my fantasy with Benson.
“Hey,” he mumbled, giving my thigh a squeeze.
I shook my head clear, forcing in a breath as I focused my attention on him once more.
Trapped though I was, I still had my secrets. I still had this thing with the Stallion at my side. He was my taste of real liberation, and our time wasn’t up. Not yet, anyway.
“Where’d you go just now?”
“Nowhere,” I lied.
He smirked as he nudged me with his elbow. “Bullshit, baby.”
Rather than answer him, I reached for my beer and asked another question.
“Do all your tattoos have some deeper meaning?”
“Some. Not all.”
“The cow skull on your thigh?” I probed.
“Badass.”
I narrowed my eyes at him thoughtfully before I asked, “Spartan on your bicep?”
He spoke through a grin as he replied, “Another time, a different world, I’d be a Spartan not a Stallion.”
There was something about his smile that made me sure I was admiring the little boy in him. It was remarkable, really, how anything childlike could exist inside of the hard, inked, forty-one-year-old outlaw at my side.
“Eagle on your chest?”
He shook his head. “Your turn, sparky.”
“I don’t have any tattoos. You know that,” I shot back with a shrug.
“Not what I meant.” He shifted, letting go of my thigh before extending his arm across the back of the booth behind me, turning his body toward mine. He rested his opposite forearm against the table, almost caging me in. Only, I didn’t feel cornered.
I felt shrouded.
I felt protected.
I felt safe .
“Tell me somethin’.”
“What?”
“Somethin’ about you. Somethin’ real.” He lowered his voice a notch, his tone almost soothing as he insisted, “Tell me a secret, baby.”
My green eyes locked with his brown ones, I thought long and hard about what I could tell him.
There was so much about me he didn’t know—so many secrets I kept from everyone.
Phoenix was a closed box, locked tight. But with him, I was more than a pseudonym.
I was Ali-Mae—and Ali-Mae wished so desperately to be seen. To be heard. To be understood.
I couldn’t tell him everything. I wouldn’t.
But I could give him a sliver of truth.
“I barely graduated high school,” I began, watching him closely as I spoke.
“Things at home were shit. I got behind on homework all the time, and my grades suffered because of it. I wasn’t going to get any scholarships with my GPA, which meant no college, which meant money was going to be the only thing to get me out on my own. ”
I paused for a breath, and Benson kept silent, his expression showcasing his curiosity and his patience. Still feeling safe, I kept sharing.
“Georgia worked a pole pretty much my whole life. It’s how she met Tommy.
He was a manager at the club where she danced.
By the time I was sixteen, Tommy was trying to recruit me as one of his girls.
It wasn’t legal, but he swore up and down he’d work around the law.
Not that I asked him to. I had no interest in taking my clothes of for a living, and I was pretty adamant about it.
“I was seventeen when I got my first job. I was a waitress at some shit hole in the wall for a while, but it didn’t pay nearly as much as I needed it to.
After graduation, I picked up another job doing the same thing—but I couldn’t make the money I wanted fast enough.
” I took another breath, willed myself to keep my eyes on his, and kept going.
“The night of my nineteenth birthday was my first shift at the strip club where Georgia danced. To say it was weird as fuck to be on the same stage as my mother is putting it mildly. I hated every second of it.”
Old memories long since locked away began to surface with my admission, crowding my mind. Unable to meet his eyes any longer, I dropped my gaze to Ben’s bearded chin, but I couldn’t stop myself from spilling the secret. The more I shared, the more desperate I felt to get it out.
“Men had to pay extra to touch, but management was shit and guys got away with getting handsy more than they should have. We were supposed to be protected and valued, and neither was true. The first opportunity I had to get the hell out of that place, I took it.”
I closed my eyes, pulling in a deep breath as the memory of my real-life monster raced to the forefront of my mind.
The first night I met him, I thought he was safe—the delicate touch of his fingers brushing mine was tender.
It was innocent. I didn’t know then how taking his bait was only trading one hell for another far scarier one.
“Hey.” As Ben spoke, he curled a bent knuckle beneath my chin, lifting my face. I opened my eyes and found his warm, brown gaze intense on me. “Come back to me, Ali.”
I sucked in a deep breath, clawing my way through the darkness of my mind in search of him. Twister. Benson. Not a monster, but my Stallion.
“That’s my girl.” He traced his knuckle along the side of my jaw as he murmured, “That was one hell of a secret, baby.”
The longer I focused on Ben’s handsome face, the easier it was for me to keep a lock on most of my darkest memories. Certain talking more about what I shared would likely drudge up things I did not want to revisit that night, I sought to change the subject.
Without stopping to consider where we were or who might see us, I grabbed hold of either side of his kutte, yanked him toward me, and pressed my lips to his.
Before he could make his next move, I made my desires known as I licked my way across the seam of his mouth.
He opened up for me instantly, grabbing hold of the back of my head as he tilted his and owned me with his kiss.
It wasn’t long before the only thoughts on my mind were of him and him alone.
The way he felt. Bearded and hard.
The way he tasted. Salty and sweet.
The way he smelled. Wild, like a cowboy. Wild, like the Stallion he was.
I couldn’t get enough.
I was so wrapped up in him, I didn’t notice when our server arrived with our dinner. It was Ben who pulled away with a chuckle, taking hold of my chin as he muttered against my lips, “Let’s eat, sparky. Promise I’ll fuck you later—just not here.”
He gave my thigh a squeeze, and I realized I’d wedged it between his.
The laugh that bubbled out of me as I noticed felt good, and I hid my face in his neck as I indulged my amusement.
Ben held me until I calmed down. When I peeked up at him, the humor that gleamed in his eyes reminded me of our first night.
Then, it annoyed me how much I liked it.
Now, I just loved it.
“Okay, brown-eyes. Let’s eat.”
We didn’t talk much as we ate, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It was easy. Ben didn’t dig for more secrets or ask me to expound on the one I shared—he merely accepted what I gave him and moved on.
When we were both finished with our entrees, he pulled out a wad of cash and tossed it on the table. He didn’t even bother waiting for the bill before he said, “Wanna show you somethin’. Let’s ride.”
I slid out of the booth, took his hand, and followed after him without a single question.
We mounted his hog and rode forty minutes I didn’t know where.
Not that it mattered. The freedom I experienced out on the road—the wind whipping through my hair, and the warm evening breeze against my skin—it was everything.
As Ben exited the highway, I realized he was taking me to a park of some kind.
There was a reservoir surrounded by trees, and he rode up a hill overlooking the water.
He pulled down a dusty trail off the beaten path before he came to a stop, and the view was stunning.
Tall, green grass. Thick, full trees. Pretty, blue water.
“Where are we?” I asked as he cut the Harley’s engine and lowered the kickstand.
“State Park just outside of Pine Haven.”
He held out his hand, and I knew this was my cue to step down, so I did.
He dismounted, too, then slung his arm over my shoulders as he came to stand beside me.
When he didn’t immediately seek to fill the silence with conversation, I didn’t either.
The night was a beautiful one, and it wouldn’t be long before sunset.
“Ben?” I murmured after a while.
He looked down at me in response.
“Why’d you bring me here?”
He smirked underneath his mustache. “I don’t need to tell you I’m no romantic, but that dress deserved a response. This is the best I’ve got. I come out here, sometimes, when I need to take a ride and think.”
I leaned into his side and teased, “Are you tellin’ me this is your secret spot?”
“Never really thought of it as a secret, but I’ve always come alone. Until tonight.”
Smiling up at him, I pressed into his side and murmured, “Well, that’s pretty fuckin’ romantic if you ask me.”