Chapter 21
Benjamin’s panting. He’s wet from the rain and runs a hand down his face. “Why did you leave?”
“What?”
“Why did you leave Lost & Found?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Why do you care?”
“Because,” he says, taking a step forward. “I care.”
“I thought you had your hands too full to care,” I snap before I can stop myself.
Another step. He’s close now. I can smell him.
Feel him.
Breathe him.
He’s in my space. Too close. Too far away.
He frowns. “Erin?”
Erin? Of course she has a sexy name.
I shrug my shoulders, like I really don’t care.
“She’s no one. No one I care about. Never has been. Never will be.”
I don’t want to say it. Don’t want to know. But once again, I can’t stop myself before it’s too late. “She was sitting on your lap.”
He nods slowly. “She was. But not on my initiative. I asked her to move and offered her the chair instead.”
I search his face. “Why?”
“Because she’s not the one I want on my lap. She wasn’t the reason I was there tonight. She wasn’t the one I was hoping to see.”
I let out a shallow breath, suddenly afraid to speak. So I don’t. I just watch him carefully.
“There’s only one person I want to see. One person I can’t stop fucking thinking about.” His voice is earnest. No teasing. No sarcasm. Just raw.
“Yeah, who?” My voice is nothing more than a whisper now. I’m holding my breath as he watches my face closely. His eyes move over it, the way it usually does when we’re together. I wonder what it is he’s looking for. If it’s something on the outside or the inside.
“You,” he says finally. “It’s always you. All the time.”
I suck in a breath when he closes the last remaining distance between us. He cups my face and lingers with his hungry eyes on mine for just a second—like a quiet question—before finally placing his full lips on mine. Oh my god.
My arms fly up around his neck. I want to get closer, as close as I can.
The door shuts behind him, and we’re instantly engulfed in quiet darkness.
His breathing is heavy against the bare skin of my shoulders.
I shiver from the feel of it. He pushes me softly but with no hesitation backwards, up against the wall—pinning me there, like I shouldn’t be anywhere else but right there.
His hands grip my waist as he pushes himself harder against me.
I feel him through his jeans and whimper into his mouth.
His groan in response sounds almost desperate and vibrates through my throat and chest. I drop my head to the side, exposing the sensitive part of my neck and feel his lips there not even a second later.
“June,” he breathes, and I shiver again. I’ve never heard my name like that before. He says it like there’s more to it than just my name. Like it’s a loaded gun. I don’t think I ever want to hear it in any other way.
I arch my back in response, pushing my breasts against him, my nipples so sensitive now that the silk of my dress feels like sheets of sandpaper against them.
Two big hands lift me up, and I wrap my legs reflexively around him. Pushing myself tighter against him. I’ve been longing for this, I realize, when our lips melt together again and his tongue starts playing with mine.
For a very long time.
For him.
Yeah, I’m surprised, too.
We kiss each other feverishly. I’m hot everywhere, and my whole body is pulsating now.
My heart kicks in my throat, in my chest—so hard he must feel it through his clothes.
And I feel his kicking me back. I don’t actually know this man, and he doesn’t know me, but somehow it feels like we’ve been waiting for this forever.
It feels like I have at least. Inexplicably.
I’m clinging to him tighter, and he rakes his hands over my body, making my skin liquefy under his touch. He whispers my name again.
I’m burning when his hands run up my thighs. I’m burning when he moans into my mouth as his hands disappear under the silky hem of my dress. And I burn when he grips my butt and pushes his hardness against me.
I’m burning and it’s all for him.
His intoxicating smell makes me dizzy. I run my hands into his hair and whimper when he groans under my touch. I could come from just hearing that sound.
He pulls at my thong. Playfully circling his finger closer and closer. I whimper again, gripping his T-shirt like I must hold on to something to not lose myself.
“Take me to bed,” I breathe into his ear.
“Always so high-maintenance.” His voice is low and husky and caressed by a smile.
“Would you prefer something else?”
“Never.”
“Shut up then.”
He chuckles softly. And then he does as I ask. We never stop kissing, not even when he lays me down on the bed. But then he pulls back, and I miss him immediately.
Gently and without a word, he takes off my shoes, one at a time, and carefully puts them away.
Somehow it makes me even more turned on, seeing him treating my shoes so tenderly.
I watch him in the dark and catch myself wishing we could turn on the lights.
I want to see more of him. See every detail so I can memorize him.
He comes back down to me and watches me quietly for a couple of long seconds. His eyes wander over my face before they finally lock with mine. I’m still breathless, my chest rising and falling to the beat of the rain battering the window.
“You’re beautiful.” There’s not a trace of sarcasm in his voice, and I don’t know why it makes me feel shy. Maybe because it sounds like he really means it.
“Thank you,” I whisper, grateful I never suggested we turn on the lights, because I’m in full blush now.
After one last look, he closes the gap between us, and it feels like I can breathe again when our lips finally collide.
This time, our kisses get even more feverish.
But still, he manages to be gentle. His hands run up my calves, up my thighs, hiking my dress higher and higher.
His breathing gets heavier the higher he pulls the silky fabric, and then he pulls it completely off.
He watches my almost naked body for one long second, shaking his head in disbelief, before kissing me again.
I shiver as he grips my naked waist, pulling me closer to him.
He unclasps my lacy bra, watching my bare chest for a moment before slowly lowering his head, taking my nipple into his warm mouth. I suck in a breath, arching against him. My insides are aching. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else before.
He kisses his way down my body, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. When he reaches the band of my thong, he gently peels it off.
Carefully, he separates my legs, and I cease to breathe when his kisses sink between my thighs. His warm tongue circles me, and I’m sure I’ll dissolve into a thousand different pieces.
“Do you know how sexy you are? How completely crazy you drive me?”
It’s a hard question to answer when you’re about to have the best orgasm of your life.
I squirm, unable to be still when heat builds in me like the biggest tsunami, but his grip on me is firm.
He holds me still when I’m about to explode.
And he makes a deep guttural sound when I actually do, and his name leaves my lips in a cry.
I’m still quivering when our mouths clash together again. “You’re such a good girl.” His voice is hoarse and deep.
My hands fly desperately under his T-shirt. I let my hands explore him. I want to imprint the feel of him on my fingertips.
I tug at the fabric. I want it off. I want to feel his skin against mine. I want to feel him everywhere. Something deep inside me is aching to feel him everywhere.
He stands to pull off his clothes. I stare at him as he unzips his jeans. I’ve never enjoyed looking at a man stripping in front of me before. I’ve never enjoyed a man like this before, period.
“You have a condom?” I ask without taking my eyes from his body.
“No, don’t you?”
My eyes jump up to his. “What? No. Why would I have condoms? What the fuck, Benjamin! You don’t have condoms? I’m not on birth control. Fuck,” I squeak, panic unfurling in my chest, before I notice the lopsided grin on his face. “You’re messing with me.”
He holds up a small, foiled package between two fingers.
“Asshole.” I throw a pillow at him, laughing, and he catches it with a wry smile.
I watch him roll on the condom and feel how my midsection is about to catch fire.
His eyes are dark when they meet mine again, and the previous laugh fades from my lips.
He settles on top of me, making me feel small between his arms. He strokes my lips softly with one thumb, holding me still with his gaze.
His eyes are a dark sea. I could drown in them.
Our shaky breaths fill the air between us.
I can only hear the thrumming rain somewhere in the distance now.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers in the darkness. “You’re fucking perfect.” And before I can respond, he pushes into me. I roll back my head and cling to him harder, digging my nails into his shoulders.
“It’s okay?” he breathes against my ear. His lips brush my neck, and the light touch makes me shiver.
I nod. “It’s perfect, Benjamin.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”
“Tell me.”
“I’ll show you.”
Then he kisses me again. Full lips pressing softly and delicately against mine as he thrust deeper into me. It’s like the kiss is telling me something.
“June.” I hear my name in a dizzying haze. And even though I’m surrounded by stars now, I can’t help but notice again how he says it like no one else. Thankfully, it’s not the last time he says it that night.
When I finally fall asleep that night—or maybe more accurately, that morning—I do it in Benjamin Reyes’s arms. His warm body envelops me, and I let it happen. I want it to happen, even though I’ve never slept like this with a man before.
And just as I’m about to fall asleep, he pulls me even closer, dipping his head and pressing his nose lightly into my hair.