The Wrong Holidate

National Kissing Day, National Limoncello Day - June 22nd

LAINEY

Ben

Your sister just told me to pick up fireworks and deliver them to some lake house tomorrow. TOLD me, not ASKED. I have no idea what's going on, but it's pretty clear I have no choice.

Me

OMG, I'm laughing so hard. It hurts.

Ben

Seriously, what is going on?

Me

Her annual 4th of July party. She gets really stressed about it, and Chandler is out of town for work, so I'm guessing you’re next in line to help, big brother.

Ben

Why didn't she ask you? Sorry, I mean TELL you.

Me

Oh, there's no way Harper would trust me with the fireworks. They're a big deal. Plus, she knows you have a truck.

Ben

What are the odds I'd survive if I told her no?

Me

Slim to none.

Ben

Had a feeling.

Me

Totally kidding. Don’t let her bully you into helping. She’s a big girl.

Ben

No, I can help. But she could have asked nicely.

Me

She’ll remember to be grateful eventually.

Ben

I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 1pm.

Me

What? Why?

Ben

I have to pick up the fireworks at 2. It takes an hour to get to the place.

Me

I’m not going with you.

Ben

Yes, you are. It sounds like a shit ton of fireworks. I’ll need help, and there's no way I'm doing all this without reinforcements.

Me

So, you're saying if you fuck up, you don't want all the blame to fall on you.

Ben

Exactly.

Come with me, Lainey.

Please. Pretty pretty, please. See how I can ask nicely?

Me

You told me nicely. That was not a question.

Ben

It was still nice. Come on, it'll be fun.

Me

Fine. Since you said pretty please

As I close myself into Ben's truck, I second-guess my decision to come with him. Okay, it's probably more like fifteenth-guessed. Even though it’s been almost a month, I can’t stop thinking about the fact we had sex.

It might have been hectic and rushed, but it was good. Really fucking good . I don't think I've had sex that satisfied me so much yet left me aching for more. Ever. I've practically worn out my vibrator reliving that night over and over.

After our parents’ engagement, I swore to myself I would avoid being alone with him. But even being surrounded by family on Father's Day, we still managed to create enough awareness between us that I’m pretty sure my mom noticed. She didn’t say anything, but there was this stilted silence between us the whole ride home—the kind of silence that reeks of disappointment and worry—the kind I was met with when she learned I’d been sabotaging her dates. I can’t shake the feeling that Harper’s fears from Easter could come true.

So, I've tried not to text him, but it's impossible to ignore his silly holiday texts—which are the highlight of my day. Proving I have no business agreeing to spend half a day alone with him— especially with him looking hot as fuck in a fitted tee and athletic shorts.

He's plugging the address into his phone so it'll give us directions to the fireworks warehouse. Since they aren't legal in the city, we have a forty-five-minute drive out of town to purchase them.

Once he’s done, he glances over. His gaze lands on my legs and slowly moves up my body. It's June in Texas, so the fewer clothes, the better, but considering how easily things combust between us, maybe I should have worn leggings instead of the running shorts that have hiked way up my thighs. "Hey." His voice is rough. Possessive.

"Hey." Damn. My voice sounds as turned on as his.

He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from my legs and puts his truck into gear. Once we're cruising down the highway, he says, "Okay, tell me about this party. I'm assuming, after all this, I'm invited."

"Yes, I’d assume this is your official invite."

He shakes his head. "I didn't realize your sister had a lake house."

"It's not hers. It belongs to Chandler's parents. His family is pretty well off, and they've owned it for years. They used to host Fourth of July parties all the time, but they own a second home up north and leave Texas in the summer. So, Chandler and Harper took over hosting. She always stresses about it, and usually everyone pitches in to help at some point.”

"Me included, I guess."

I glance over at him. "You're family."

He looks at me, and the air between us feels heady again. There's no denying the truth of my statement, and it's not only because our parents are engaged. He just belongs. And I don't know what to do with that feeling.

Especially when that feeling is so much more than familial .

I clear my throat. "Of course you're invited. You and your dad. Most of the party will be Harper and Chandler's friends. You'll see some familiar faces from Easter. Josie is usually my date, she'll be there, but this year, I'll—"

I don't exactly know why I stop talking or why it feels wrong to finish my statement. It’s a holiday, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to him.

"What?"

"Um, it’s a holiday. I have a holidate."

The silence in the car suddenly feels thick and awkward. I watch as Ben flexes his hand around the steering wheel, his face completely impassive.

"I’m actually meeting him for dinner tonight to see..."

"See what?"

"That we'll be a good fit for the Fourth. Since they’ve all been flops, I thought a screener date would be good."

He nods, and a little grunt comes out of his mouth. "Think your sister will mind if I bring a date?"

A sick feeling fills me, and I have to force the words out of my mouth, "No, of course not."

"Great."

"Great."

Nothing is great. "Oh wait, don't you have to work?"

"Actually, I close on the Fourth of July."

"Really? Isn't it a huge drinking holiday for you?"

"Not for my bar and where it's located. Most people are at house parties or the lake. Uncle Red decided a while back that it wasn't enough business to make it worth staying open, so we close and let the employees enjoy the holiday. I wanted to keep the tradition."

"That's really awesome, Ben. I'm sure your employees love that. "

"Yeah, they have to work most holidays, so it's nice to have a big one they can have off."

Thankfully, our conversation turns away from dating, and we get to the firework warehouse without further awkwardness. That is until Ben meets Chloe, the cute and bubbly woman helping us with our order.

I watch as he leans over the counter with a flirty grin and she does the same. I can’t even process what they’re saying, there’s this sudden whooshing in my ears and my stomach churns.

“Chloe, are you telling me that an order this big made every year seriously doesn’t warrant some sort of loyalty discount?” He takes her hand and presses it to his chest. “You’re breaking my heart here.”

I turn and walk away as a long-suppressed memory rushes to the forefront of my mind. I’m suddenly back in college, standing in the middle of campus, watching my boyfriend wrap another woman in a hug. Then there’s the roar of my heart pounding when he presses his lips to her temple.

That’s the moment he saw me. He stilled and smiled…smiled! As if I hadn’t caught him with another girl. He spoke to her, and she walked off, before he headed toward me. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. Instead, I stood there and waited. I didn’t even move as he bent and kissed my lips.

“Babe, it was just a hug with a friend.”

I blink, tears I didn’t even know had formed slip down my cheeks. I shake my head. Not sure if it’s because I don’t believe him or because I do.

“I’ve known her since freshman year and haven’t seen her in a while.” He wipes away my tears. “Come on, Lain. Am I acting like someone who was just caught cheating, or like a worried boyfriend who wants to make sure his girlfriend is okay after seeing something that hurt her?”

I stare into his puppy dog brown eyes and see only concern. Surely, if he was hiding something, I’d see it. I let the hug replay in my mind. His grin had been a little flirty, but he’s kind of a flirty guy. He didn’t touch her anywhere intimate. The kiss could be considered friendly. Maybe I am reading too much into it. Maybe it’s my history of seeing my mom’s asshole boyfriends making me distrustful.

“Promise?”

His lips twitch into a small smile before he leans in and kisses me, pulling me in flush against him. He slowly ends the kiss, his lips lightly brushing mine. “Who’s my girl?”

“I am.” I breathe into him.

I blink out of the memory. What a fool I was. I mistook his kiss for a promise instead of the diversion it was. Months later, after I truly caught him, I finally recognized all the moments he gaslit me.

And I fell for every single one.

I hate that watching Ben and Chloe interact brings all those feelings back. Or that I have no fucking idea how to process them. Should I even feel jealous or hurt when I keep pushing him away? When I’m going on holidates.

I press a hand to my belly and take a fortifying breath. Just woman up and go take care of Harper’s order. I join the guys helping us load, keeping my distance from Ben and Chloe. When we’re ready to leave, she hands over her card, making sure he knows her personal number is on it. I refuse to acknowledge the nauseous anger churning in my stomach—or the fact that I want to claw her eyes out.

“Here,” Ben says as he hands over Chloe’s card once we’re back in the truck.

I stare, but don’t take it. “Why are you giving me that?”

The venom in my voice has his gaze jumping to mine. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I adjust so I’m facing straight ahead and buckle my seatbelt .

“Aren’t you going to take this?”

“Why? She gave it to you. She obviously wants you to call her.”

His brows bunch. “I got it because she promised ten percent off next year’s order if Harper places it before the Fourth.”

I blink at him, remembering his comment about a discount before I walked away. I still don’t take the card. “Ben, she gave you that card because she wants you to call her . You can’t be surprised with how much you flirted with her.”

He puffs out a frustrated breath, reaches for my purse, and stuffs the card inside then starts the truck. “It wasn’t like that.”

“She doesn’t know that. You made her the center of your attention. Made her laugh. Made her feel good. Sure, you asked about a discount, but she’s secretly hoping you’ll call and ask her out. Her heart is going to jump every time she gets a text or call hoping it’s you. Then when she realizes you used her, it’s going to fucking hurt. It doesn’t matter if she knew you less than an hour. And, yeah, she’ll get over it, but every once in a while, you’ll pop in her mind and remind her of that awful feeling. Your flirting isn’t as harmless as you think.”

I’m breathing hard and there’s this ache in my chest as a thick silence fills the truck. He’s staring at me, his expression confused and shocked and something else I can’t quite decipher. I wait, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he puts the truck in gear and maneuvers us out of the parking lot.

His mouth is pulled tight, and I can’t tell if he’s pissed or being reflective. The longer we drive in silence, the more I want to say something. But I don’t know what. I feel like the ball is in his court at this point. Eventually, he turns over his phone to me and tells me to pick a playlist. I do, desperate for anything to break up this stillness.

When we pull up to the lake house almost an hour later, his impassiveness finally breaks. “Whoa, nice house,” he says, leaning over the steering wheel for a better look.

It's not the biggest house on the lake by any means. It's an older craftsman style, but it's been updated inside and out, which has given it a more modern look. They also have a nice, manicured lawn.

"Yeah, it's pretty great, huh? Wait until you see the inside."

We unload the fireworks into the garage and head inside. The house was pretty much gutted, so the interior’s an open concept. The kitchen is completely modern in a farmhouse chic meets lake-life way. I give him a quick tour of the place then we make our way back to the kitchen. Ben immediately moves to the area of the countertop that's covered in booze. My sister goes all out and has quite the variety. All the standard liquors plus a bunch of mixers and liqueurs.

"Now, this is a haul. I hope I don't get voluntold to bartend."

I laugh since it's something she'd totally do. "No, she actually hires a couple of bartenders.”

He peruses the bottles and tips back a huge thing of tequila to look at the label and winces. “Don’t drink this. It’s shit.”

“That’s for the Jello shots.”

His eyebrows raise. "Well, I'd advise against them unless you want your hangover with a massive headache."

"I usually stick to sangria. My sister makes a great one."

He glances over at the wine and nods, so I guess whatever wine my sister buys meets his approval. He grows quiet and the earlier awkwardness settles around us again. Well, hell. I don’t regret what I said, but I hate this weirdness between us now.

Suddenly he turns to me, his gaze conflicted and tense. “I read her, okay?

I bunch my brows in question.

“Chloe,” he continues. “I knew if I flirted, I could work a discount. She said Chandler’s family have been ordering this insanely expensive order for the past fifteen years. It’s just bad business not to do something for someone who has been that loyal.” He pushes his hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s a kind of like a sales tactic. I do it all the time at the bar. It gets us bigger tips. It makes the customers friendlier. It’s part of the job. I’m not setting out to hurt people.”

“Okay. I understand where you’re coming from. It’s only…I don’t think you realize how charming you are and how genuine it comes off. You see it as innocent and fun, and it is for some. But for some, it’s special. Who wouldn’t want more of the gorgeous guy making them feel like a million bucks? Then when they realize it’s a scam, they feel like chump change.”

He grimaces. “Yeah, I’m getting that.” He takes a step closer, reaching out and covering my hand with his. “But what I’m also realizing is it hurts you. And I’m sorry. I don’t ever want to hurt you, Lainey.”

My heart lurches even as this sense of comfort envelops me. Isaac never apologized. He only made me question my doubts. But there’s no doubt at the sincerity staring back at me.

“Thanks. I do understand that you have every right to flirt and get women’s numbers.”

“Lainey—”

“And I might have had a bit of trauma response back there. I had a bad experience in college.”

“Please don’t discount your feelings.”

I sigh. That’s not what I’m doing. At least I don’t mean to. But I have to acknowledge that I can’t push him away then get jealous. “I’m not. I meant what I said. I guess…” I shrug, not sure I can fully confess that I hate the thought of him with another woman.

“Want to talk about it? The asshole that hurt you?”

I shake my head. Isaac has taken over enough of my day. I can tell Ben doesn’t like my answer but nods. “I’m going to do better, Lainey. I’ve always had this natural charm. My mom started calling me her little charmer when I was barely out of diapers. But I’m going to be more conscious of my behavior. I can’t say I want to be taken seriously if my actions scream Frat Bro Ben or Bare-chested Bartender.”

I don’t know how to respond. Because what I really want to do is throw my arms around him and kiss the hell out of him. He keeps surprising me, and yet I don’t know how. He’s been blowing my expectations of who I thought Ben Kelley was from the beginning.

He tugs on my hand, bringing our bodies closer. His vivid gaze holds mine, piercing me right through the heart. “And I could get other women’s numbers. But I don’t want to .”

The rough intensity of his words steal my breath as a whole new set of emotions rush through me—all of them hot and needy.

And it must show on my face because his mouth curls into a sexy smirk. Fuck, how am I supposed to resist this man?

Thankfully, he doesn’t call me out on it and leans away, giving me space.

His gaze returns to the counter full of alcohol. "Oh, look," he says, picking up a small bottle with yellow liquid in it. "Did you know it's National Limoncello Day?"

"And here I thought this was the one day we were together that wasn't a holiday."

He grins as he gently rocks the bottle back and forth. "What do you say? I think our firework fetching deserves a drink."

"I do love Limoncello."

"Let’s see what I can make.” He scans the bottles and picks up the cranberry juice. "I can do a Limoncello Cosmo."

He gathers the juice, Limoncello, vodka, and Grenadine. We find a shaker and he mixes everything, only adding a small drop of Grenadine. My gaze falls to his biceps as he mixes the drink. I love this part of his job. I could watch him all day.

He pours a little into a wine-sized plastic cup. "Taste this and let me know if you want it sweeter."

I take a sip. It’s potent, a little sour, but good. "A tad sweeter."

He adds some of the Grenadine and mixes it again before dividing the drink between the two cups. He hands one to me then lifts his. "To National Limoncello Day."

"Cheers." I tap my cup to his and take a sip. "This is really good. It might be my new drink.”

He shakes his head. “No. You’re too complex for a vodka drink.”

I raise my brows.

“Your cocktail would contain whiskey. Maybe a bourbon.”

“Why’s that?”

He takes me in, his body suddenly closer. “Because it’s not only complex, but has a subtle intensity. It’s spicy. Sweet. Earthy.” His voice is smooth and velvety as he reaches out and twists a lock of my hair around his finger. “Like your autumn hair.” His gaze lifts from my hair to my eyes, his blue stare powerful. “Trust me, Lainey, nothing about you is a vodka."

I can’t move. Can’t breathe.

“Ben…” I don’t even know what to say. Or why I even said his name. This moment is full of all the descriptors he’s used—intense, complex, spicy, sweet. And just as dangerous as the liquor itself.

He gives my hair a tiny tug before he lets go, his smile teasing. “Come on, let’s go hang by the pool.”

I'm thankful for the suggestion and the reprieve from all these blazing emotions. We take our drinks to the patio, where the house is really impressive. It has an infinity-edge pool and jacuzzi, a covered outdoor kitchen, bar-top seating, and, of course, a gorgeous view of Lake Travis .

"Let's go swimming," Ben says suddenly.

"What? No, we can't."

He glances at the glistening pool, which does look tempting and refreshing. The temperature is closing in on triple digits today, and we sweated tons hauling the fireworks. "Why not? I'm guessing this pool is going to be full of kids and parents during the party. Why not enjoy it now?"

"We don't have swimsuits."

"We don't need them."

My breath stalls. "We can't go skinny dipping."

"Again, why not?" He closes the distance between us. "I'd say it isn't like I haven't seen you naked before, but we didn't exactly get that far."

My cheeks flame as a surge of tingles rush through me at the memory of our bodies connecting—the way he filled me so perfectly. We were naked only where it mattered most.

His head dips, and his lips brush the shell of my ear. I shiver and bite back a moan at the barely there touch. "I've been inside you, Lainey. I think we can handle a little skinny dipping."

My breath catches, and it takes all my willpower not to lean into him and grasp his shirt so I don't melt into a puddle of lust. He pulls back, his face so close I can feel his breath against my lips. His bright blue eyes now stormy, matching the storm of emotions brewing inside me.

My gaze falls to his lips, and they quirk in a small half-grin before he lifts his drink to his lips. I watch as he takes a sip then swipe his tongue over his lips in a slow, sensual stroke. Jesus. The summer Texas heat has nothing on what Ben can do to me. I have to consciously resist the urge not to bring my hand to my pussy and give it the stroke it desperately needs.

A rumbly sound comes from him just before he turns away and heads toward the pool. He sets his cup down, grabs the back of his shirt, and tosses it on a lounger. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts, and his head turns to the side, as if to see if I'm looking.

I sure as hell am.

Before I can prepare myself, he pushes his shorts and underwear down in one shove. Fuck me, he has a great ass. Round and tight. The memory of my fingers sinking into that ass, urging him to fuck me harder surges through me.

I hear a splash and blink out of the sexy memory in time to see him surging through the wavy surface. He brushes his hair back and wipes the water from his face, looking like a damn supermodel. The cocky expression on his face has my gaze dropping to the rippling shadows beneath the water. He closes in on the wall so I can't see anything, and I practically moan in disappointment. His grin widens.

"You coming in?"

No.

It's what I should say. Yet, I know I'm not. I come to the edge of the pool and set my cup near his, go to the deck box where the pool towels are stored. I drop a couple near the edge. "Turn around."

He tilts his head as if to say, are you kidding me?

"I'm not getting in unless you turn around."

He sighs, grabs his drink, and heads to the other side of the pool to look out at the view of the lake. I slip off my shorts and shirt, staying in my bra and panties. I can't abandon all my self-control—it’s hanging on by a strand as it is. I sit and ease my way into the cool water, grabbing my drink then join him at the infinity wall.

He glances over and takes in my bra straps. "Cheater."

We glance back toward the view. "This is amazing. If I were Harper and Chandler, I would move here in the summer," he says.

"She’ll stay for a few weeks, and her friends will come and hang with her. But it's not super convenient to come and go, especially for Chandler's office."

"What about you? Do you ever come and stay with her?"

"I have before.”

"Sometimes you two seem close, and sometimes not. Chandler mentioned she kind of took care of you growing up."

"Yeah, my mom worked a lot since she was raising us by herself, so it kind of messed up our sibling dynamic."

"I don't know, y’all can bicker like proper sisters."

I snort a laugh. "I suppose we do. She means well even if she drives me crazy. She just wants us all to be happy and safe.”

"Safe?”

“Stable. She doesn’t want me to fall in their footsteps. Struggling like Mom with men and jobs. Or like she did, constantly having to pick up the pieces.”

“Do you feel like you’re falling in their footsteps?

“I guess in a way. You know, what I talked about on Memorial Day weekend.”

At the mention of Memorial Day, my mind immediately goes to what happened in his tent and not our deep conversation.

He closes the distance between us and turns me to face him.

“There were no poor decisions made that weekend,” he says, his fierce gaze leaves no room for argument—not that I have one.

I float away from him a bit so I can take a full breath.

"You know today is another holiday."

I laugh, thankful for the change of subject. "I'm sure there are ten others, too."

"Maybe, but there's only one I want to celebrate."

Something in his voice ignites a low strum of tingles inside me. "And what's that?"

The mischievous grin forming on his lips tells me my body is on the right track. "National Kissing Day. "

The tingles explode in a jolt of excitement and apprehension. "Seriously, Ben."

"Have I joked about any of these super important national holidays? You can look it up."

"Who do you plan on kissing?" It’s a dangerous question, but I suddenly don’t care.

"Hmm...there's this one woman whose lips I'd like to taste again." His gaze flits down to my lips, and my body heats.

"Again?"

"Yeah, I've kissed her before, and hers is different than any other I've had."

My chest suddenly feels tight. "Oh, how's that?"

"One kiss only makes me want her more. I can't stop thinking of doing it again, dreaming of it, too. When I see her, I pray it'll be the day I get to taste her again. Feel those soft lips beneath mine, feel the slide of her silky tongue against mine." He slips his arm around my waist, pulling me closer, but our bodies still aren't touching. He leans down, rubbing his lips over the shell of my ear. "Once I'm drunk on her lips, I want to taste the rest of her. I want to run my tongue along her neck and see if she moves it in a way that tells me she wants more." His mouth dips, and I arch so my neck’s open and vulnerable. I feel him smile against my skin. "I want to hear the hitch in her breath because it feels so good. I want to kiss my way down her body until I get to her gorgeous tits." His hand trails up until his fingertips brush the side of my breast. "I want to reveal them and see the exact shade of pink of her nipples."

I can't breathe. He's making me crazy with want. "Ben..."

His hand wraps around my back again, his fingers slowly making their way up my spine, leaving a trail of tingles.

He stops in that one spot between my shoulder blades.

My reminder. I have the power to stop this. This one moment is my chance to stop things before they go too far .

Yet, every time he gives me this choice, I never stop him.

I move enough to let the water take me into him. My legs float up and around his waist. His cock, hard and hot, pushes into my center. Unable not to, my hips move, and I rub myself over his hard length. He growls and his hands sink into my hair just before he crashes his lips to mine. His tongue immediately sinks into my mouth and tangles with mine.

God, kissing him really is the best thing ever. His kisses are dream-worthy.

He yanks my hair and tilts my head back. The tiny sting of pain only sends hot tingles through me. His mouth trails down my neck, and I arch into him, allowing him more access. He moans in appreciation as he sucks my skin. For the first time in my life, I want him to leave a mark. I want this small claiming, even if it only lasts a couple of days.

His hands slide to my breasts and yank the cups of my bra, baring me to him. My nipples are hard and aching. He gently brushes a thumb over one hard tip. "Burnt rose."

"Is that a color?"

"It's yours." He dips his head and his tongue makes a slow, hot swipe over my nipple. My head falls back as I dig my fingers into his thick hair.

"Yes...more..."

His kiss turns more ardent. He sucks and nips and licks until I'm so hot I could boil the water surrounding us. He moves his attention to the other breast. I'm going crazy. It's not enough. I want more. I move my hips against him and wish I'd been brave enough to get into the pool naked. The thin lace of my panties is too much of a barrier. I want to feel the velvety skin of his cock against my pussy. I want to feel his thick head push inside me.

"Ben..."

"I know what you want, baby. What you need. But it's National Kissing Day. And today, I'm only kissing you." He moves us to the other side of the pool and sets me on the wall, pulling me to the very edge before spreading my legs. "There's one place I've been dying to kiss. So many nights I grip my cock thinking about having my face between your legs. My tongue sinking into your pussy, fucking you until your sweet cream fills my mouth. Show me, Lainey. Show me the lips I haven’t tasted yet.”

The man is going to make me come just with his dirty words instead of his mouth. This feels indecent, and I love it. I spread my legs a bit more, reach down, and shift my panties aside enough to completely expose myself to him.

“Fucking beautiful.” His bright blue eyes are wild, his gaze locked on my most intimate place. “I can see how turned on you are. Your pussy is open and wet, begging for me. Isn’t it, baby?”

“Yes,” I breathe. I swear to God, if he doesn’t touch me now, I might burst into flames.

His moan is deep. Guttural. The kind you make before you’re about to taste the perfect bite of food. His head dips, and his tongue flicks out, slowly licking up my slit. It has to be the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen. He growls, as if one taste wasn’t enough. He buries his face into my pussy, and my head falls back. I can’t watch him anymore. If I do, I’ll come immediately. As much as I crave the release, I want this to last, want to enjoy every second of him eating me out. My fingers sink into his hair and I rock my hips into his face. His tongue presses inside me, fucking me before he moves to my clit, ratcheting up my pleasure with every flick and suck. It isn’t long before I feel my orgasm rushing forward. As if he senses I’m about to come, he lifts his head and gives my inner thighs a kiss.

“You taste so fucking good. I’ve never tasted anything sweeter than your cunt.”

“God, Ben. Your mouth’s obscene.”

“You like it, don’t you, baby?” He dips his head again and teases his tongue between my folds. “This dirty mouth treats you so good, doesn’t it?”

I moan.

“Tell me, Lainey. Tell me how much you like my filthy mouth. Tell me how much it turns you on. Tell me how much you want my mouth to make you come.”

“Yes…I fucking love it. I could come just from your dirty talk. I'm aching...please, Ben. Make me come"

"You want to come on my face, baby? Want me to lick it all up?"

"Fuck, yes ."

He sinks his tongue inside me again, fucking me relentlessly as I ride his face. His attention suddenly shifts to my clit, and I'm lost. I explode in a million fiery sensations as he grips my hips and slips his tongue back inside me, fucking me all over again. Fucking me until I’m slipping off the edge. He yanks into the water, my body plastered against his as he takes my mouth again. "Do you taste yourself? How sultry you are? How fucking delicious."

My hand slides over the firm contours of his stomach, down to his thick, hot, hard cock. "I want to kiss you, too."

A hard groan leaves his throat and he presses his forehead to mine. “This was for you. I wanted to taste you.”

“And now it’s my turn.”

He groans again and his hand covers mine, easing my grip off his dick. “Don’t you have a date to get to?”

Oh, shit. I’d completely forgotten. Not that I want to go on that date. No. I want to be right here with him. Kissing him. Sucking him. Fucking him.

"Ben..."

"Lainey, I'm not going to let you suck my cock then go on a date with another guy. "

Oh God. He’s right. Even if tonight is more of an interview than a date.

His beautiful blue gaze holds mine, promising me if I cancel, everything I want in this moment is mine. But at what cost?

No, I need to be responsible. For my job. For my mom. For my heart.

I pull away, the water suddenly cold. "We should probably clean up and get going. Harper will kill me if she sees dirty dishes all over the kitchen."

His jaw clenches. I get out and immediately wrap one of the towels around me, rushing back to the house as if I can escape the flash of hurt and disappointment I saw on his face.

I’m dressed and cleaning the kitchen when Ben joins me, fully clothed. We work together in silence and once done, we stand there, the want so thick in the room I swear I can almost see it.

He steps in front of me, his hands framing my face and lifting it to his. He gently kisses me. "National Kissing Day is our holiday."

I shouldn't find his possessiveness so sexy, but I do. "A national holiday only for us?"

His mouth quirks up on one side. "Yep. And you've already celebrated it today. No more celebrations are needed."

My body doesn’t seem to have remembered it just orgasmed because it’s now screaming for more. I really, really like Possessive Ben.

"Duly noted."

He shakes his head and grabs my hand, "Come on. You have a date to be bored at."