Chapter 23 #2
We finish a lovely meal; most of the time, we spend asking and telling each other about past relationships, friendships, and our families.
He tells me about his work, managing a sales department for a big manufacturing company.
Other than the birth control conversation, we are laughing, having fun, and getting to know each other.
One of his qualities that I keep coming back to is how open he is, and I am really trying to mirror that behavior.
He asks me what he wants to know and tells me what is bothering him.
It’s so refreshing to have the option of saying whatever I want and feel like that is reciprocated.
There were a lot of issues that were avoided in my past relationship, but it doesn’t feel like that will be any concern with Ben.
Toward the end of the meal and the bottom of the champagne bottle, I find myself growing quite desperate to get back to one of our houses.
While I struggled with my attraction to him at first, those thoughts have vanished.
It’s his personality. The way he treats people.
The way he is with his kids. The way he makes me laugh.
His light touches, deep chuckles, and the wrinkles around his eyes.
The way he tells me exactly what he’s thinking and how he feels.
There doesn’t seem to be any games, secrets, or unwritten rules to follow.
I am attracted to him without a doubt. Getting to know him has made him infinitely more attractive. Sexy adjacent.
“What do you say, Toots? Should we get out of here?” Ben asks after paying our check.
“Yes, I’m getting quite tired. It’s probably time to turn in,” I tease. There is definitely sexual tension in the room, and we both know we aren’t calling it a night when we get back to our neighborhood.
“No way, pretty lady. I'm not letting you end our date at 8:30 p.m. I have the night off from parenting, and we are taking full advantage.”
Coyly, I flutter my lashes and ask, “What did you have in mind?”
“Well, first, I'm getting you naked,” Ben clearly explains, not bothering to turn down the volume on his booming voice.
“Ben!” I whisper-shout at him. Despite our romantic meal set-up, there are still people around, and the guy at the table next to us definitely heard him and snickered.
“You asked. Want me to keep going?” he teases.
I’m a little champagne tipsy, giggling, and ready to get out of this restaurant before they ask us to leave.
When we pull up on our street, he turns into my driveway.
“Are you dropping me off? Date is over?” I ask teasingly. God, I hope not because I am not done with this man for the night. In fact, I would like to spend the whole night with him if he is game.
“We’re going to your house.”
His house is much nicer, bigger, and there are no kids at home, so I find myself questioning this request. “I don’t mind, but is there a reason why?”
“Not that I’m willing to say at the moment,” he replies. “Maybe I'll tell you later. Depends on how good you are.”
That statement activates my downstairs.
“Hold on,” he says, and jumps out of the car and walks around to open my door.
The door opens, and I look up at him with a cheesy smile. “Are you always going to be such a gentleman, or is this just a first date thing?”
“For tonight, I'm simply trying to get in your pants. Do you think it will work? Because if it does, I foresee a lot of door openings in my future.”
I’m trying to play it cool, so I just shake my head and lead him inside. “You know, you could have parked in your garage, and then we could have walked over here. It’s close.”
He responds with, “Oh, I know. I’m trying to save my energy.”
When we reach the front door, I unlock it and let us inside.
I don’t even have time to set down my purse or turn on the lights before he has me up against a wall, lips pressed hard against mine, taking my breath away.
Our heavy make-out session continues for a few minutes until he whispers, “Do you want to go check on the cows?”
I snort a laugh because I am a sexual goddess. We continue to kiss as we walk down the hallway to my room. When we get through the door, I walk to my bed and turn on the lamp that is on my nightstand so we aren’t stumbling around in the dark.
As I am turning on the light, Ben walks over to the window and moves the curtains aside. Apparently, he did want to check on the cows.
“How are the babies?” I asked.
“Staring at me. I thought I would open the curtains to give them something to watch since it’s pretty boring in your backyard. That means the pressure is really on.” He turns back toward me and motions for me to come closer. “Come kiss me. It’s for the cows.”
I walk toward him, and he pulls me close, yet doesn’t lean in to kiss me right away.
As he is staring into my eyes, he says, “Damn, Cassie, you're so beautiful. I still can’t believe you're interested in me. I’ve walked around this neighborhood for the last couple of years thinking about how hot you were and grumbling about the guy who moved in with you.
Wondering how he got so lucky. I just want you to know, I feel really lucky and hope you're as into this as I am.”
Reaching up onto my tiptoes, I meet his lips gently for a split second before pulling away. “I’m so into this. So, if you're done chatting…” I tease him with what I hope is a “come hither” smirk on my face.
He pulls me toward him and crushes his lips to mine.
He walks me backward toward the bed, and in the hottest move of the century, lifts me by the hips and throws me back on the bed.
All that lawn work has really given him some working man muscles.
He leans over me, holding himself above me with his arms, and starts kissing down my neck, pulling the collar of my dress down to reach my chest. Since I’m wearing a long dress, he makes his way to my ankles and then slowly raises my dress up my legs until his hands land on my hips.
He kisses the lower part of my thigh, and slowly makes his way up to the upper, inner part of my thigh; I’m already panting with need.
He stops to look up at me and asks, “Can I take your dress off?”
“Yes, please.”
He grabs my hands to pull me up to sit, then pulls the scrunched-up bottom of my dress up over my arms. Immediately, I am self-conscious of the little belly pooch I have in this position. Since the light is on, everything is quite visible.
This worry is squashed when he groans and says, “you're so gorgeous. I’m leaving the light on if you're okay with that. I want to see all of you.”
I wonder if any man has had body image issues and worried about the lights being on.
He starts kissing down my neck, to my chest, to the swell of my breasts.
As he is exploring my body with kisses, I reach behind me to take off my strapless bra.
Since I am sitting up, it immediately drops away from my body.
Ben groans and stops kissing me to take a long look. “Fuck. I really messed up before by not taking the time to appreciate how gorgeous your body is. I’m taking all of the time I need tonight.”
He pushes me back down on the bed and grabs my hips to scoot me back so he can climb between my legs.
His hands and mouth continue the exploration of my body as I start to work on the buttons of his shirt and push it off.
He is still wearing his t-shirt and jeans.
Our nakedness is quite disproportionate since I am down to underwear.
“I want to see you, too,” I say as I reach to untuck his shirt and help him pull it up over his head.
“I’m not as pretty to look at,” he replies, standing in front of me shirtless, with just his jeans and belt remaining. I sit up to unbuckle his belt, unbutton his jeans, and start to push them down. He pauses to take his jeans and socks off, tripping a little bit, which makes me giggle.
He smirks in my direction, just wearing his boxer briefs and a smile.
I reach up and run my hands down his chest, down his stomach, and down the front of his brief, rubbing the bulge that is appearing.
“You look good to me,” I reply, letting my eyes move from his face down his chest, to my hand rubbing up and down his package, back up to his eyes.
He grabs my hand to stop me. “You first.” He pushes me back down on the bed and crawls between my legs. His hands start working up and down my body, touching and kissing me everywhere except where I want him to.
He works his way up to kissing my neck and whispers in my ear, “Tell me what you want. My hands or my mouth? I need to know what works for you because I'll never, ever repeat that first performance. Hands or mouth?”
“I’m good with whatever,” I say, trying to embrace this openness in the bedroom, but it’s awkward at first. Starting over with someone new, explaining to them how your body works.
It would be cool if it were like in the movies and books where everyone gets off from intercourse, orgasms happen simultaneously, and medications don’t dull sensations.
“Nope. Tell me what you want.”
“Uh, just hands are good for now.”
He sits back on his legs and runs his hands down to my hips. He grabs the sides of my underwear and slides them down my legs. He stays sitting back on his legs, and I watch him look me up and down, an appreciative look on his face.
“Damn,” he groans, hovering back over me. “you're not allowed to touch me until I'm done with you. I'm so turned on by you.”