Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
A dam takes the news rather well. I expected him to be at least slightly disappointed and say something like ‘I Love You,’ or ‘We Belong Together’, and I had a speech prepared for that. But he doesn’t.
He just stays silent and says, ‘Well, Gemma, I hope you know what you want, because I’m not going to fight for you.’
I roll my eyes. ‘How romantic.’
‘I’m going places and you’re not going to be able to enjoy all the money or the house we could have bought now I’m Head of Digital Strategy.’
‘That’s fine. I’m not really into job titles that much anyway.’
‘What’s got into you? You’re normally so much nicer than this.’
‘I think you mean I’m normally a doormat. And I’ve decided not to be one of those anymore.’
‘You’re like a different person.’
‘Thank God.’
‘Goodbye, Gemma.’ He hangs up.
And that’s that. I don’t feel the need to apologise, or call him back and see if he’s okay. And it feels like an immense relief.
I open my phone and log into the account that connects me to my laptop.
Truth time.
Shaking slightly, I open the folder and can see he’s saved the file exactly where he said he did. He’s labelled it: ‘Take Two: Weasel’s version’. I open it up and scroll through all the changes and suggestions.
They’re not just good edits and comments. They’re incredible. And he’s absolutely right, I did dilute things because I was trying to write for every reader … because I was being too nice. Halfway through he’s written, If you write for yourself, with no reader in mind, and you stop giving a crap about what anyone thinks of you, then this book will be one of the best I’ve ever had a chance to read/edit.
Afterwards he’s written one last comment.
It’s four a.m. and you’re sleeping and I want to talk to you about this book, because Gemma, it moved me. You write about love and connection and community in a way I’d never seen or thought about. It’s made me feel bad for just focusing on myself all this time at work, and maybe being a bit cutthroat. I do help people out now and then, but not enough. I used to think it was just us – Lucas, Bella and me – against the world, but now I think I want to let others in a bit. Well, you, I want to let you in a bit. So it seems … you have rubbed off on me.
I can feel tears in my eyes. He’s seen things I hadn’t. But also, he was kind. He was amazing. And I can’t wait to go and tell him.
I walk back to the dance floor, a smile on my face. Ben is waiting for me.
‘Done?’
‘Single. And free.’ I grin at him. ‘And I read the edits too.’
‘Just now?’
‘Yes, I’m an avid multitasker. P.S., the edits? They’re amazing.’
‘Are they?’ He has a grin the size of Italy on his face.
‘They were fantastic.’
‘Well, you did fantastic. You’re a good writer. No, Gem, actually you’re great.’
‘I thought you said I was the best?’
‘Ha, well, it was one of the best books I’d read in a long time.’
I glow. ‘It feels so good hearing that. You can tell me as much as you want.’
Ben hands me a glass of champagne. ‘And you did so well with your family just now.’
I take a sip. ‘This truth-telling is quite freeing really. A bit like I’m travelling at a fast speed, to the stars and back.’
He smiles at me. ‘So I was thinking about before, with the basilisk and you being Hermione. Does that make me Harry or Ron?’
‘Actually, you’re probably Snape.’
‘Ouch, she hits and she hurts.’
‘Well, you do have a Slytherin vibe.’ I grin at him. ‘And before you say anything, I’m not a Hufflepuff.’
‘You completely are though.’
‘Not anymore.’
‘No, you’re right, something changed earlier. I got a solid Gryffindor vibe.’
‘It was bravery.’ I puff out my chest like I’m a solider.
‘I’ll let you have it for now.’
‘So, now we’re together, what will the office think when you step back from chief editor and give it to me?’ I tease him.
‘Ha! Not so fast. There could be other plans for you.’
‘Other plans? Isn’t that what people say when they’re firing you?’
He laughs. ‘Not at all.’
I pull myself up on the stone wall that rings the front lawn. ‘I’m going to sit here for a bit and let everything that’s happened settle in. Including the fact that you came back to chase me.’
‘I think “chase” is a bit of an exaggeration.’
‘How the tables have turned, Benjamin. The stories I’ll tell back in the office,’ I say loftily.
‘You wouldn’t.’
‘I would.’
When he doesn’t respond, I kick him gently from where I’m sitting. It’s meant to be playful but my shoe falls off and my toes graze further up than I intend, catching just above his knee.
‘Don’t.’ He smiles, but there’s a small warning tone.
So of course I do it again. This time I swing a bit harder, and connect with his inner thigh. He flinches in a way that suggests he likes it too much.
‘Gemma.’ His jaw is clenched but he doesn’t step away. I feel a shiver come over me, as I realise how close I am to his boxers, his package, his penis. I bet it’s perfect too.
‘More champagne?’ he offers.
Not a good idea. It’s clearly already gone to my head.
I nod. He grabs two glasses from a passing waiter then walks back. I jump off the stone wall. He’s close now, giving me a glass. My hand is inches from his chest. I can almost feel the warmth.
He stays there, staring at me. Those blue eyes piercing me, undoing me. ‘So, I’m wondering, Evans, how much would it take to keep you quiet?’ His voice is deep and husky.
I tried not to think about his inviting lips, that kiss.
‘So much.’ I hate myself for playing this game, but I can’t stop.
‘What would you need me to do for your silence?’
The tension between us is palpable.
‘I have no idea.’ I whisper.
I have images of him kissing me again, moaning, like a man starved. Like a man devouring me. That’s how I’d like to go out of this world. Being devoured.
He steps closer, leans in. We’re inches apart. I get light-headed. And dammit, here we are again. There’s something about this guy that’s addictive. And the closer he gets, the harder it is to… Oh. Now he’s tracing my hand lightly up and down. A zing travels immediately up my spine.
‘Give me some idea.’ He holds my gaze, his stare hungry. It penetrates me to my core. I feel my knees become butter, about to give out on me. I have to hold myself back. I won’t respond, I won’t respond.
‘Like what…’ I chew my lip, biting down so hard that it gives me a pulse. Everything is beating hard. ‘I don’t know what you want.’
‘Yes, you do.’ He is close now. So close. I can smell his cedar, feel the warmth, from his build. He’s so tall and large, he could pick me up right now with one hand.
‘What are we doing, Gemma?’ It’s his eyes and the expression in them that stop me. He’s turned on too. He wants me.
‘Standing.’ It’s the only thing I can say.
‘Yes. And?’
I know he’s asking about us. The tension between us… This is more than just pretending to be together. This is more than just friends, isn’t it? His jaw twitches again. I want him, I do. The more I try and think about Ben, the muddier it gets. Are we friends? Colleagues? More?
‘We could have a…’ I want to say kiss. A fling. But I don’t want that from him. I want more .
‘A one-night stand?’
‘How did you know I was going to say that?’
‘I guessed.’
I nod. ‘We could.’
Already I’m undressing him in my mind, tearing off that beautiful tuxedo. Imagining my hands on his smooth chest, unbuckling his pants, the next day, lying in bed, happy, together. I let myself picture it. Ben in my apartment, us quietly reading books, looking up every now and then to share a great line we’ve just read. In winter, him getting up out of the warm duvet to make us a carafe of delicious coffee. In summer, an early morning walk on the beach at sunrise, spotting the surfers.
Nothing about it feels like a fling, a one-night thing. I feel my cheeks blush, and a warmth spreads from my stomach, underneath my ribcage, and it’s a feeling I know well. I like him.
He steps back and something shifts in his expression, as though he’s assessing the situation. He said carefully, ‘I guess we could.’
‘No strings.’ Even though suddenly I want the strings. All the strings.
He looks at me, and sighs. ‘I mean, my friends would think I’m an idiot saying this. But no.’
Oh .
‘I can’t do that. Not with you, Gemma.’
Oh .
‘I want more. I want you every night.’
My heart beats wildly. ‘Every night?’
‘Every… single… one. Gemma…’
‘Are you…’
‘Screwing the no-dating-at-work policy, and asking you to be my real girlfriend? Yes.’
Every little hair stands on end. I’m on fire. Inside. Outside.
‘So?’
He leans down, cups my cheek in his hand, and slowly leans in. I tilt my head up. He’s so close I can feel the warmth of his breath, his eyes are staring hungrily at me with a look that says, I want you. Now.
I didn’t realise I was making him wait. Who am I kidding, I’m out of my mind for Benjamin McDonald, and it’s about time he knew it.
‘Yes, absolutely categorically, a hundred per cent yes.’
‘Good, now, little viper, stop talking.’
I’m so breathless because this is it. I’m single, and I’m about to be kissed, by him. The most handsome, interesting, wonderful man in the world.
He leans down and for a second he pauses. That delectable second, where you know what’s coming, and you want it. You want it so bad.
Just before I pass out from the anticipation, he bends towards me. Lowers his head. Suddenly, he presses his mouth against mine. Hot lips. Sweet lips. Softly kissing me, his fingers fluttering over my jaw.
I want more. I want him everywhere. I melt. His mouth opens. Our tongues find each other. He groans. I can smell him everywhere on my lips, my skin, wrapped around me – the scent of pine trees, cedar woods. His body shifts, the hardness of it welcome against mine. I grab his neck and tug him closer. It’s building now. The urgency. This isn’t the kind of kiss you have at a lovely wedding. This is the kind you have behind closed doors, the kind that involves button-popping and being lifted easily and held against a wall.
As if reading my mind, Ben breaks away. His eyes are melted blue pools.
‘Now I’m taking you to my hotel room.’ His voice is deep and gravelly.
‘Mine.’
‘No, yours is a grubby little fever room.’
‘And yours is a vampire room, where I think you sleep upside down in the closet.’
He leans down, brushing his lips against mine, biting my bottom lip, teasingly. ‘Why don’t we go and find out?’
And that’s all he needs to say, because I fall into him, and he practically carries me, as if I were weightless, across the lawn and up the stairs, taking them two at a time, saying, ‘Lifts take too long.’
Inside his room he pushes me up against the wall. I wrap my legs around him, straddling him. He kisses me, slowly and tenderly at first, like a long ache, but our kisses quickly become deeper, more intimate. He hitches up my dress, grazing his fingers against my thighs. His hand then hard on my ass.
My body responds like it never has before. His hands are everywhere. I melt. I’m on fire every place he touches me. But every now and then he groans, and pushes me back as if it’s too much, then pulls me towards him, as if it’s not enough.
He pulls down the top of my dress, then my bra and the cold air makes everything tighten. Goosebumps on my arms, and the back of my neck tingles.
He breaks for a second, stares at me, into me. I’ve never felt so together, so bonded with someone in my entire life.
‘God, Gemma.’
I know. I don’t want it to stop so I pull him back to me, our mouths frantically finding each other once more.
He kisses my neck as if he couldn’t wait to put his hot lips everywhere on my skin. His moans sound deep, wanting, hungry . I feel his tongue move down, and run lightly across my breasts. My nipple is in his mouth, he bites gently and I moan loudly. Every hair on my body stands to attention.
‘Bed. Now,’ he murmurs, carrying me easily.
He throws me onto the bed. Unbuttons his pants, his shirt too, until he’s standing there naked, with his perfect body, staring at me as though he’s about to devour me.
I want us to stop, to take all the time in the world, and I also want him now . If I don’t have him, I’ll explode. He leans down and his hands grab my ass. He finds the edges of my g-string, curls his fingers around it, and gently tugs it off.
The slowness is agony.
He teases, as he leans over and pulls off my dress, the feeling of silk brushing over me making all the hairs stand on end. Heat rises to the surface of my skin. How can something feel so right ?
All my senses are overwhelmed as he slides on top of me. Warm skin to skin. His hands, everywhere. Hot little fires. I burn for him. And then he’s kissing me, hot and passionate, and I’m losing all sense of time and place as our bodies slide together.
And then he’s all the way inside me. A jolt of electricity shoots through my body and I am gripping the edge of the duvet, trying to muffle the many moans coming out of my mouth, and it’s magic. It’s exactly how I always imagined it would be.