Chapter 16
He stayed like that for minutes, his head bowed against her empty womb, his eyes closed, but Sierra never pushed him away. She didn’t even speak, only ran her hands through his hair gently.
After a long moment, he sighed, and looked up at her, his green eyes as heavy as her soul often felt. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just …’
‘Overwhelmed,’ she supplied. Because she felt that same dragging weight pressing down on her heart. ‘Overwhelmed by the immensity of this.’ She waved one hand between them. ‘Us.’
‘Yeah. Exactly.’ He gently nudged her legs wider and lay between them, his torso covering her and keeping her warm as he supported the brunt of his weight on his elbows.
‘I’ve waited for so long,’ he whispered, ‘and now I’m equally as excited as I am afraid.
’ His forearms bracketed her sides. His thumbs moved in whispering strokes beneath her breasts.
‘I think the one thing we are allowed to be is afraid,’ she replied. ‘I mean, how do we ever move on?’
‘We don’t,’ he said. ‘We learn to live with it, we learn how to welcome grief when it rises because we should grieve for Her. But we also have to choose to be happy when we can. Life’s too short. And it’s passing by whether we want it to or not.’
Sierra thought about that. Although the past year had been exceptionally rough, there had been small glimpses of joy, little moments – Mav finding Nina and, now, their baby on the way, Poppy’s last birthday, meeting Markus – that had been really good.
Great, even. But the problem with grief was that it stole all those little moments from you too.
In fact, if you let it, grief quietly took everything, including your hope for the future.
‘I made an appointment to see a fertility specialist a few months ago,’ Sierra said quietly.
Benji’s head snapped up, but he didn’t say anything.
‘I was sitting on the sofa with Poppy, and she dozed off. And I looked at her, and I just had this really intense feeling that time was passing too quickly. And that if I was ever going to take that chance, I should start moving forward.’
Even though he must have had a ton to say about that, he didn’t, only asked, ‘How did the appointment go?’
‘I never went.’ Unable to look at him, Sierra stared up at the star-studded sky. She smiled grimly. ‘I was too scared of … everything: That the pregnancy wouldn’t take, that it would take …’ That it would take and then it would happen again.
Slowly, his thumbs resumed their whispering strokes. ‘Were you going to get a sperm donor?’ He asked the question cautiously, as if he were afraid of what she might say. Or, maybe, afraid that she might get angry and snap at him.
‘I didn’t think it through that far.’ It was a lie, and even though they could both hear it in her tone, Benji couldn’t have known the truth either: She would never have done it without him.
She had never just wanted kids, or not any kids.
She had wanted his kids. The difference between the two was momentous to Sierra even though she couldn’t say that to him. It wouldn’t have been fair.
Benji would read more into it than she was ready to give.
As if to prove her point, he said, ‘Will you promise that if you ever decide to do it, you’ll use my sperm?
’ Before she could reply, he added, ‘I know it’s a lot to ask, but I can be a good dad even if you decide that this isn’t going to work anymore.
And you shouldn’t go through all that without someone – without me. ’
Sierra didn’t clam up or get mad. She didn’t point out that sharing a kid would complicate things immensely for them if they decided not to stay together.
Her heart swelled, and she said, ‘I promise.’ Because it was futile to pretend that she’d go down that path again without him.
If anything, she would be too afraid to go down that path again at all.
‘Thank you.’ Leaning down again, Benji pressed a kiss to her sternum.
His words echoed in her head. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And they reminded her that sometimes, those everyday, commonplace things, things like a promise or a kiss or the words ‘thank you’ could be so much more. And coming from Benji, they were always true, always heartfelt.
Sierra trembled when he moved, trailing his lips over the tops of her breasts where they spilled from the black lace bra. He blew a hot breath over her right nipple, and she closed her eyes as sensation bracketed her.
She could feel him everywhere. His body pinning her down, keeping her warm. His thumbs, always stroking, always soothing. His mouth, hovering over her, so close. ‘What do you want, Sierra?’ he asked again.
And this time, her needs were very specific. ‘I want your mouth.’
She tipped her head to look at him right as that wicked grin broke across his face. Her breath caught in her throat. Benji was so achingly beautiful, so strong and sweet and kind and, for just that moment, Sierra forgot why it had been so imperative that she push him away.
‘Where do you want my mouth?’
‘Anywhere. Just hurry up,’ she demanded.
‘How about everywhere?’ he asked. ‘We can start here …’ He flicked his tongue lightly over her nipple, already aching and tight beneath the lacey fabric of her bra. ‘Move here …’ He shifted to her other side, repeated that slightest teasing touch.
‘Benji,’ Sierra whined.
‘What do you want, Sierra?’ he repeated.
‘More.’
‘Greedy,’ Benji murmured, but he bent over her and sucked her aching nipple through the black lace. His tongue circled the sensitive point gently even as the fabric provided pleasurable friction.
Wanting more, Sierra arched into his mouth. She buried her hands in his hair and braced against the impossible need he kindled in her. When his teeth closed lightly over her, she moaned his name.
Benji’s careful control snapped at only that – his name on her lips.
With a few deft movements, he yanked her straps down and pulled the bra to her waist, exposing her heavy breasts to the cold night air and his burning gaze. His breath shuddered out of him. His eyes, so dark with passion, drank her in.
Sierra’s own breath heaved, but when she shifted to reach for him, he stopped her. He pinned both her arms above her head, forcing her breasts higher. He held her down with one big hand and lowered his mouth back to his task, this time with merciless intent.
He tortured her with lips and tongue and teeth until Sierra was panting.
She had forgotten.
She had forgotten how quickly he could bring her to the edge of her own self-control. Even as his mouth lavished her breasts with attention, her core throbbed from his pointed deprivation. She was hot and wet and flustered. ‘Benji, please,’ she begged.
He didn’t ask her what she was begging for.
This was a dance they had done together more times than either of them could count.
He released her breast with an audible ‘pop’ and slid down her body until his face was positioned between her legs.
He didn’t gently remove her underwear, and he didn’t go slow.
He yanked the thin lace to the side and buried his face between her thighs like a starving man placed in front of a king’s feast.
Sierra’s breath caught in her throat as he sank into her, and when he shifted higher and lightened his touch, teasing her clit in flashing strokes, she closed her eyes and gave herself to the moment.
She felt everything. The clever touches from his tongue. His hands, beneath her, lifting her hips. The cold air kissing her skin. The sleeping bag rubbing sensuously against her as she began to move in small, pleading thrusts.
Her pleasure built slowly at first. Almost faltering. And then faster, bolder, as her body, her instincts, took over.
When she reached that peak right before the fall, she hovered there, unable to let go, unable to allow herself to crash.
And because he knew her, because he had loved her a thousand times before, Benji released her hips.
He slipped her underwear down her legs and off.
Using his thumbs, he spread her wide, said, ‘Seeing you so wet for me drives me crazy, Si,’ and licked through her firmly.
She moaned her approval.
‘You like that?’ he asked, his voice rough.
‘You know I do,’ she replied breathily.
Benji chuckled deeply, unhindered by her sass. He slowly sank two fingers into her – and then stilled. ‘Tell me what I want to hear, Sierra,’ he demanded roughly.
Sierra’s body clung to him, desperate for relief from the pressure. ‘I’m yours,’ she said, knowing what he wanted. Always. ‘I’m only ever yours.’
With a rough growl of approval, he pumped his fingers into her. Lowering his head, he sucked her clit gently between his lips, giving her the violent nudge off the edge that she so desperately needed.
Sierra jerked into a half-seated position, threw her head back, and cried out as the first orgasm ripped through her.
Her body shuddered with the force of it, her breasts heaved with every strained breath, and when she looked down and saw Benji between her legs, his eyes closed, his mouth gently teasing her, savouring her, his fingers curling inside of her, the pleasure burst from her in one long, loud moan.
He broke away, gentled his thrusts, crooned, ‘That’s it,’ his voice filled with approval.
‘Benji,’ she panted, as wave after wave slammed through her. She was unhinged. Shaking. Overwhelmed.
Sensing her rising emotion, Benji slowly withdrew. He kissed her thighs. ‘Relax, Si,’ he said gently. ‘You’re okay. I’m right here.’
She collapsed back onto the sleeping bag, but only for a moment, and the second he lay down beside her, she pushed up onto her knees.
Sierra was filled with a new and strange sense of panic.
It was silly that an orgasm could push her over that threshold she’d so carefully maintained – but it had.
Because being with Benji, being loved by Benji, was perfect.
But it didn’t stop all those other fears.
If anything, it brought them all back to the surface.
It was as if, in accepting him back into her bed and finding peace, even momentarily, her brain needed to find another way to sabotage her. So that, even as she yanked his jeans off, straddled him, gave him one firm stroke, and sank onto him, those other emotions rose too.
As she began to move her hips, riding him, she wondered what she would do if they tried for another baby, and it didn’t work out. She wondered why he loved her when she hated herself so much.
Their relationship was complicated. Because as much as Sierra pushed him away, she had known in her heart that he would always stay, even when it wasn’t in his best interests. And on her worst days, knowing it had helped her to keep her head above the water.
What type of person did that make her?
She was so unattainable just then. Only Sierra Hunt could be touching him, filled with him, and still so fucking far away.
But because he wasn’t sure that she was ready for his anger, because he was too afraid he might chase her away again, Benji took a deep, calming breath, gripped her hips, and held her in place, stopping her frantic movements.
‘Benji,’ she pouted, and wriggled in frustration.
He shifted, coming into a seated position so that they were chest to chest. He wrapped his arms around her, whispered, ‘Come back to me, my love.’
She didn’t deny it. She slumped, started to climb off.
He pinned her in place, thrust once to bring her attention back to him.
‘If you don’t want to fuck me—’
‘I don’t want to fuck you this time. I want to make love with you, Sierra.’ He kissed her neck, bit down gently. ‘I want you to be here with me, loving me back, instead of inside your own head.’ His hands released her, and he pulled out of her, but only long enough to gently lie her back down.
Benji covered her body with his own, gently brushed away the single tear that fell down her cheek, and she apologized, saying, ‘I’m sorry. I can’t turn off my brain sometimes, and I …’ She shook her head. ‘I’m scared, Benji.’
‘Of me?’ he asked, horrified.
‘Of us. I’m so tired of hurting, so tired of being sad.
And whichever way you cut it, you and I will always have pain between us.
And even as I try to resist it – you – I know we’re inevitable.
But maybe that’s not a good thing.’ She lowered her voice, added, ‘Every legend with fated love ends badly.’
And didn’t he feel exactly the same way?
‘We will always have pain between us,’ he ceded slowly, thinking through how to comfort her while being honest at the same time.
‘Of course we will. But we have so much more than that too. We have years and years of friendship. And love. Years of laughter.’ And then he said the only thing he knew to be absolutely true. ‘We are good together, Sierra.’
‘I don’t think I’m good for you. I’m toxic.’
‘Don’t say that.’ The words came out angry, so he softened his tone, and added, ‘You’re not toxic; you’re traumatized.
And, even then, you’re perfect for me,’ he repeated what he’d said earlier.
‘On your worst day, you’re still my woman.
I’ll always be here to pull you out of your own mind.
But you have to let me in, Si. Let me help.
I can handle your demons when they come. ’
‘How?’ she rasped.
‘With love.’
Sierra smiled. She swiped at the tears on her face.
Desperate for a little lightness again, Benji quirked an eyebrow, said, ‘I feel that a physical demonstration of the ways in which I could distract you from your thoughts would be appropriate here.’
Sierra’s eyes widened with surprise. She laughed, and it was unexpectedly bright. ‘You were the one who stopped,’ she reminded him. Reaching between them, she closed her hand around him, gave his steel length one quick pump.
Benji bit back a groan. ‘I love when you ride me,’ he replied and positioned himself at her entrance again. ‘But only when you’re enjoying it as much as I am.’
Her movements slowed. ‘I just get lost sometimes …’
Benji looked at her as he slid into her, watched her eyes darken and then close completely when he sank to the hilt. ‘I’ll always come find you,’ he whispered.
Sierra opened her eyes. She roped her arms around his neck and drew him down so that she could whisper, ‘Promise?’ in his ear.
And right before he began to move, Benji replied, ‘I promise, Sierra.’