Chapter 20
About twenty minutes later, I pull up outside Ben’s house in Carrickmines. Nerves flutter through my insides as I align my car parallel to the kerb. As expected, Ben’s massive pickup consumes the entirety of the driveway. On hearing the slam of my driver’s side door, Ben appears at his doorway.
“Jesus, what happened to your car?” Ben asks. He’s strolling down his driveway, walking on the grass because the pickup occupies all the concrete. Thanks to all the boxes, suits, and bags dispersed across my boot and backseats, my car is slightly lopsided.
I tell Ben the truth. “That’s what happens when you pack up years of your life and shove it into a little hatchback.”
Ben stops, realisation flooding over his face. He asks in his deep voice, “How’d it go?”
I exhale loudly, refusing to acknowledge the true hurt travelling through me. “It’s done now.”
Ben takes the hint; he doesn’t ask me anything else about it.
For this, I’m grateful. After loitering for a brief moment, Ben invites me inside.
I study his back as I follow him. He’s wearing a lavender hoodie that looks years old and a tracksuit that clings to his muscular legs.
From where I’m standing, his butt looks great, far fuller and rounder than mine.
Being in his presence, breathing the same air that he does, my heart spontaneously flutters.
Yes, I lost Tom today, but I may have gained something else.
“All good?” Ben asks me, shutting the front door behind me.
My mouth twitches into a smile. “It’s perfect.”
Ben leads me into the sitting room. I fall onto his couch. I’m in the same position I was in weeks ago. Only this time, Ben isn’t on top of me. Ben sits down on the other end of the sofa.
Before an awkward silence can ensue, I immediately say, “Where should we go for dinner?”
Ben rubs his lips. “Would you mind if we just ordered in? I don’t really feel like leaving the house.” He looks down at his lazy, relaxed outfit.
Cheerful, I agree. “I don’t mind at all.”
Ben orders from the local chipper. I make sure that he uses my debit card to pay. While eating over his sitting room coffee table – I order something small as I’ve already eaten a meal with Tom – Ben and I discuss the appeal.
“I can’t believe how long it’s taking, to be honest. I thought the Court of Appeal would have at least confirmed receipt by now.” I don’t mention Tom’s connection to the judge, just in case Tom fails in his mission.
“That’s the legal system for you.” He throws a chip into the air and catches it in his mouth.
“I’d go down there myself and knock on the judge’s door if I was allowed to. Pricks.”
Ben sneers. “Would you say that to their faces? Like with ‘Mr Thistle-twat’?”
Defeated, I whisper, “No.”
Ben giggles again. “You know that’s what I like about you. You know how to control yourself to do what’s best for your clients.”
“That’s just one of my many talents,” I point out.
Ben raises his brow but looks away. Under his breath, he mumbles, “It’s just one of the many things I like about you.”
I pretend I didn’t hear him. “What? Speak up please.”
He studies me for a moment and opens his mouth. I brace myself to hear the words again. Time seems to slow. Regrettably, he merely laughs. “Nothing.”
By the time we’ve finished our food, and I’ve run out of mean things to say about the judiciary, it’s late.
“Are you planning on driving back to Gorey tonight?” Ben asks.
Yawning, I say, “That’s the plan.” I glance at the time on my phone screen. “Fuck. It’s already 11:30. I better get going.”
I fumble in my pocket, searching for my keys. When I find them, I fire them on the table in front of me.
“Nick, you look exhausted.”
I feel exhausted, too. There’s a pain behind my eyes, and my limbs feel like jelly. I fight another yawn; this action only worsens the pain behind my eyes. Ben reaches over the table and takes my keys from me.
“Hey!” I shout, lunging to take them back.
Ben holds them out of my grasp. “No. I’m not letting you drive back at this hour. It’s too late.” Before I ask where he expects me to stay, he adds, “You can stay here for the night.”
My brows crinkle. “On the couch again?”
Ben rubs the cotton material on the corner sofa. “No. In the bedroom. With me. If you’d like?”
At hearing his words, I no longer feel dizzy with sleep.
Adrenaline floods through me. All I can think about is how hungry I am.
Not hungry for food. Hungry for Ben. Memories of his soft lips against mine, his heavy, hairy body on top of me, and his hand at my waist fill my brain.
I have to tighten my fists and think of something else to supress the growth between my legs.
Ben offers me his hand. I accept. He leads me up the stairs and into his bedroom.
“Make yourself comfortable, then.”
Ben disappears into the ensuite, leaving me to decide which side of the bed to take.
I slowly start to undress, shimmying my pants from my hips down my legs.
The hairs on my legs shoot up in response to the cold.
When I remove my jumper and shirt, goosebumps decorate my torso.
With only a pair of tight-fitting boxers on my body, I prepare to get into Ben’s bed.
“Fuck,” Ben says, emerging from the bathroom.
Instinctively, I bolt around to face him. “What?”
He’s standing a few feet away from me, a cunning smirk on his face.
He scans me from head to toe. There’s a look in his eye, like he’s the predator ready to pounce on his prey.
I feel exposed, vulnerable. My heart misses a beat as Ben takes a step closer.
As he closes in on me, his eyes are narrowed, like an arrow marking its target. Of course, I’m the target.
Once Ben’s in front of me, he opens his strong arms. Alluring. Instinctively, I fall into him. Ben rubs his warm palms across the goosebumps on my back. My naked stomach is pressed against his hoodie. Fire stems from where our stomachs collide.
Slowly, Ben slides his hands down my back, tugging me closer. I arch into him. His fingertips graze the waistband of my underwear. It tickles.
“Is this okay?” Ben warmly whispers.
“Yes.” My breath stumbles in my throat.
Ben leans over, sliding his fingers beneath my underwear’s waistband. He places a warm palm on my butt cheek. Heat floods through me, like a light has been lit against me. My heart pulses as I curl into Ben’s neck.
Ben’s crotch grinds against me. Something hard throbs against my stomach. I push into it, feeling it throb harder.
“Oh, yes,” Ben groans.
After giving my cheek a firm squeeze, Ben moves his hands up my back, leaving roads of goosebumps in his wake. I watch his euphoric expression. He looks down at me; his glistening, gorgeous eyes are peering into my soul.
Friends. Colleagues. Take things slow. No expectations. No plans, my brain reminds me. I don’t listen.
Ben slowly cranes his neck. I step up on my tiptoes.
I can feel his breath against the skin on my face, hot and heavy.
When his sharp stubble grazes my cheek, I brace myself for the feeling of his soft lips.
My heart is still pounding. My breathing is fast and furious, then slow and steady.
His soft lips gently collide with mine. I almost melt in his arms. I let out a pleasure-filled moan.
As I sink further into him, Ben slips his tongue into my mouth.
I’m in such a frenzy that I start to feel faint beneath him.
I veer to the left, but Ben’s mouth follows me.
Ben grabs my face, his two calloused hands tough against my jaws.
He slides his tongue deeper into my mouth, like he wants to eat every part of me. And I want him to.
I untuck Ben’s T-shirt from his tracksuit.
I slide my hands up his soft body. I stop at his hairy chest, running my hands through the tickling hair that I so desperately desire.
Ben groans into my mouth as I do this. I bend further into him, desperate to breathe in every breath he lets out. He grips me tighter.
“Yeah?” he moans into me.
“Yeah,” I moan back.
I step back and pull Ben’s jumper and T-shirt over his head.
I can only get so far before my shortness impedes me.
Ben quickly takes over, ripping the clothes over his shoulders and onto the floor.
I take in everything. The perfectly average body, the hairy chest, the gym-defined arms, the happy trail of hair that runs from his belly button into his waistband.
With his skin exposed, I jump at him. I press my torso as close to his as biology allows.
The hairs on his chest prickle my neck. I nestle my head into his pecs.
I start to kiss his chest. Ben lets go of me and leans back, basking in the way my tongue is making him feel.
“Oh, yes,” Ben groans, his voice deep.
I don’t stop. I slowly kiss my way down his abdomen, feeling his cushy, soft stomach absorb my nose and my lips. I’m so hungry; I so desperately want every inch of Ben. Desire brews in my chest. I plant little pecks on every centimetre of his body.
“Come here.” He groans.
We start to kiss again. The kisses are gentle at first. They quickly get rougher, harder as Ben tries to swallow me whole.
Ben’s hands are back on my buttocks, squeezing and caressing.
Meanwhile, my groin grazes against Ben’s thigh; his presses against my hip.
I’m just as hard as he is. I’m pulsing. Ben’s hands spread out in my boxershorts.
They fall to the floor. Just as he does this, I do the same to his tracksuit.
“Wow,” Ben says, tossing his eyes to my groin.
I regard the damp bulge at his groin. It’s hidden behind the fabric of his boxers. Ben sees me staring.
“Want to take them off?” Ben asks.
I slowly nod, my eyes still cemented to his bulge.
“Come on then.” The corners of his mouth tug upwards.