Chapter 19
Remi
I wake to the vibration of my phone, the alarm I set after Benson fell asleep rousing me. Usually, I rely on my watch to wake me in the morning, but it’s charging in my room.
Thankfully, my phone didn’t fall off my chest in the night.
It’s early, the sun not yet up, the world barely even awake.
Benson’s head is still on my thigh as if I’m his own personal pillow, but he turned at some point, his cheek now pressed to my leg instead of the back of his head.
He looks so peaceful in sleep, even inside a barn on a bed of soft wood shavings.
I huff a laugh as I scrub a hand over my eyes, willing some life into my tired body. As gently as I can, I try to wake him. “Ben?”
He doesn’t stir.
I run my fingers through his hair, untangling a few strands. He shifts slightly, a short vibration rumbling against my leg.
“Remember when you said five minutes?” I ask softly. There’s another vibration. A grunt, maybe. “Well…add about six hours and twenty-five minutes to that.”
Benson’s eyes flit open, taking everything in, before he turns and buries his face against my leg. With some effort, he pushes himself off the ground, muttering a clear, “Shit.”
I catch his gaze with my hands, reassuring him with slow, soft movements. ‘Plenty of time. It’s only four.’
He nods, rubbing wood shavings off his chest and arms before looking around again. ‘Sorry I fell asleep on you.’
My lips twitch into a smile. ‘I don’t mind. You can get ready here if you don’t want to make the drive home and back. I’m sure we have a spare toothbrush you can use.’
Benson winces, something apologetic in his gaze. His hands linger in the air before signing, ‘Need to check on Mouse.’
By his fidgeting, I have a feeling it’s not just that, but I’m not about to push him on it. ‘Sure. Meet you back here?’
Benson nods, but there’s a small frown on his face as we stand. He steps into his boots outside the pen as I do the same. I’m at the barn door when a hand loosely closes around my wrist. I turn back to find Benson wearing a determined expression.
‘I’m…’ He waves his hands around his head in a manner I take to mean frazzled. ‘I feel out of sorts and need to…reset. Wrong shirt.’ He plucks at his shirt. ‘Wrong pants. It’ll bug me all day. Sorry.’
I shake my head, even as a tiny smile lights my lips. ‘No apologies. It’s fine, Ben.’ Pausing, I add, ‘If you could prepare a bag, would you feel comfortable staying here sometime?’
After a long second, he nods.
I pat his chest. ‘Good. I have a feeling you’ll look perfect in my bed.’
Benson blinks at me, a flush rising on his cheeks. I smile to myself as I tug open the barn door.
As Benson heads off toward his vehicle, I slip inside the ranch house.
The lights are all off, no one here yet.
Ash will arrive soon to start breakfast for the ranchers, and Colton will stop in at some point in the day.
My parents will likely pass through for meals or simply because they enjoy visiting, regardless of their private homes being so near.
And other folks will spend time in the house, as they do every day. It’s never empty for long.
But in these moments, the halls of this house are my own.
I don’t bother turning on the lights as I make my way upstairs.
I could find my way into any room in perfect dark.
My hand brushes the corner of the dining room as I pass into the hall.
Slides along the banister of the staircase.
At my bedroom, I flick the light switch to find everything as I left it yesterday.
Walking to my dresser, I pick up the cardboard pieces Benson used to press my lenten rose flat. I set the bright yellow glacier lily atop one piece, arranging it just so, before adding the other section of cardboard. Finding some books, I add weight to help the flower flatten and dry.
The wildflowers are here.
And Benson brought me the very first of the season.
I’m in the kitchen, helping clean up after the dinner hour, when a small object bounces off the back of my head. “Colt,” I half growl, half laugh. “I’m wearing my CI, you doof.”
He snickers, not looking repentant in the least as he leans a hip against the counter. “Whoops.”
I roll my eyes, passing my brother a dish towel. “What’s up?”
He takes the hint and dries the platter I hand him before storing it in the cupboard. “So… Benson.”
I wait, but nothing more is forthcoming. “Yeah?”
“He’s been here a lot.”
“He works here,” I point out.
“Yeah, but… Is something going on? With you two? Because I swear I’ve been picking up these vibes lately. I could be way off base, but you know we’d all support you, even though he’s Jackson’s age, right?”
I bite my tongue as our mom enters the kitchen, a few dishes in tow. “Colton dear, they’re dating. Catch up.”
Colton’s wide eyes swing my way. “What?” Lowering his voice some, he says, “Seriously? But he’s so much older than you.”
“You just said it’s fine!” I retort, chucking a wet washcloth his way. He dodges the item, and it falls to the floor with a splat.
Our mom tsks as she scoops up the cloth and tosses it back in the sink. “Age is only a number. They’re consenting adults, and that’s all there is to it. If you have a problem with that, you know where the door is.”
Colton holds up his hands. “I don’t! I just… I figured they were only messing around. It’s serious?”
I shrug. “It’s new.”
“Funny, isn’t it?” our mom says, a wistful look on her face. “The world is so very big, and yet, sometimes, we find just what we need right where we began.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” I tell her, gentle warning in my tone.
“Am I?” She hums. “Guess we’ll see.”
I sigh as she walks from the room. Colton edges into my line of vision, his blue eyes creased.
“It’s serious?” he asks again, sincerity in his voice and a soft edge to his movements.
My mind flashes to the wildflower drying on my bedroom floor. To Benson’s resting face as he all but passed out in my lap last night, like my presence was the most comfortable place he could imagine. I’m not sure the man does casual.
“Yeah,” I tell Colton, the warmth in my chest spreading. “It’s definitely not nothing.”
He nods at that, drying another dish I hand him. Before Colton leaves the kitchen, he squeezes the back of my neck, pressing his forehead to my temple. I huff a small laugh, slinging an arm around him best as I can.
“Softie,” I mutter.
He lets go, but three seconds later, a ball of paper hits me for a second time. I turn, but Colton is gone. Shaking my head, I toss the paper in the recycling and head upstairs.
Normally, I’d be returning to the stables at this time of night to feed the horses their evening grain.
But with Benson working alongside me lately, I haven’t had to do that.
Between the two of us, we get the evening meals doled out before the dinner hour, which gives me a bit more free time at night.
I can’t say I mind that one bit.
I’m about to change into my PJs and head downstairs to watch some TV when there’s a knock at my open door. I spin, my eyebrows flying up when I spot the very man I was thinking about standing in my doorway, a hesitant smile on his face and…a bag slung over his shoulder.
Benson lowers the bag to the floor before rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Sorry,’ he signs. ‘I should have texted first.’
I nod down to his backpack. ‘Are you here to add burglary to your breaking and entering record?’
He chuckles, his smile small. ‘Colton let me in.’
I step his way, picking up the backpack and tugging him into the room before shutting the door. “For?” I prod, leading him over to my bed.
He swallows hard, his gaze flitting around as he sits. ‘Staying over?’ he suggests, nerves evident in the motion of his hands. ‘If you want.’
“Oh, I want,” I tell him, easing onto his lap.
Benson’s eyes fly to mine, his palms on my waist as mine settle on his shoulders.
“All right?” I check.
His eyes drop to my mouth, holding there.
“Do you want me to kiss you, Ben?”
There’s no teasing in my voice, only honest question.
Benson answers with the briefest of fist nods before his hand is on the back of my neck, tugging me in.
Warm, soft lips greet mine, urging me open.
I sink against Benson’s lap, melting like butter, as he proves how very intoxicating the gentlest of kisses can be.
Benson’s hand shifts to my face, his palm on my jaw and his thumb gliding smoothly over my cheek, like he just can’t help but touch. I can’t help myself, either. I flick my tongue beneath where his thumb is resting, his rumbling groan traveling through me like thunder.
He kisses my other cheek, my jaw, the unmistakable swelling of his cock sending sparks through every one of my neurons to fry my brain. It takes me a long second to come back online, Benson’s mouth on my neck now as he tries to turn me to rubble.
“Fuck, Ben.”
Another rumble vibrates against my neck, a wet, open-mouthed kiss preceding the gentle suck of Benson’s mouth.
“Do you…” I cut off, panting a breath as Benson’s mouth attaches to the underside of my jaw. I sink a hand into his hair, holding tight. “Do you know how good you feel?”
There’s the slightest shake of his head before lips press to my Adam’s apple, his beard tickling my skin. His tongue follows the same path, and I can’t help but imagine his cock in my throat as his fingers do the same.
It takes me a moment to find my voice. “Did you intend for this sleepover to be PG? If so, we should probably stop.”
“If I don’t want to stop?” The words are broken up some, as if spoken hoarsely, but I get the gist.
“Then I’m going to be very practical and tell you I haven’t been with anyone since my last screening. So…if the same is true for you, then you can put your mouth wherever you want it.”
Warm air puffs over my throat, Benson’s grip on me tight. “I haven’t…ever…”
He’s had sex. I’m sure of that much.
“You haven’t been tested? Or you haven’t had cock?”
Benson pulls his face out of my neck to meet my eye, his expression utterly serious and solemn when he fingerspells, ‘Cock.’
It’s a struggle not to laugh. Not because there’s anything funny about the confession. It’s just…Benson Harper. Delicately signing the word cock inside my bedroom. On my bed.
I want to tell my younger self fantasies really can come true.
“You’ve been tested, though?” I make sure, slipping my hands over Benson’s shoulders and neck.
He nods. ‘Negative.’
I let my gaze slide down Benson’s torso, from his chest to his stomach to what I can see of his lap.
My fingers follow the same path, over the soft swell of his pecs, down further, stopping at the hem of his shirt.
“So we can have all sorts of fun,” I suggest, Benson’s stomach jumping under my touch. “Want to get naked with me, Ben?”
One of his hands lifts slowly. ‘Soon.’
I’m about to ask if this soon is like our second kiss. Which I wouldn’t complain about. I’m fine waiting. But Benson lifts enough to swing me down onto the bed, and I understand exactly what he means. He wants to take his time.
Fuck.
Benson’s body blankets mine, his crotch grinding all too briefly against my own.
He surprises me by taking my hands in his, raising them above my head and pressing them lightly to the mattress.
His lips follow, kissing one wrist and then the other, his shirt brushing my chin as he stakes a slow claim down each of my arms in turn.
My processor slipped off my ear when he shifted me to the bed, but the transmitter is still connected.
Which means I can hear my own moan when he drags his teeth lightly against the inside of my elbow.
I have a feeling it’s not only kissing that Benson devotes thorough attention to. Which makes me a very, very lucky man.
When he reaches the ends of my arms, he lets one of my hands go to tug the hem of my shirt slowly up my stomach.
He watches raptly, his thumb brushing my skin, his eyes flicking to mine for only a second before he drops his lips.
Every muscle in my body tightens as he kisses a path from one hipbone to the other.
“You’ll let me touch you, too, right?” I pant.
Benson’s lips twitch as he signs a cheeky, ‘Eventually.’
I huff lightly, my vision temporarily blackened as Benson lifts my shirt. The fabric catches on my processor, successfully tugging my CI the rest of the way free. Silence blankets me as Benson sets the shirt aside, noticing the device tangled in the fabric.
He signs a quick, ‘Sorry,’ before plucking it free.
“Leave it,” I tell him. “Just tap me a few times if you need to get my attention.”
Benson nods, carefully setting the CI on my nightstand before he’s back.
His eyes run over my face, softness in his gaze, before he taps my cheek twice.
I huff a laugh, about to tell him he only needs to slap me around if I’m not looking at him.
But my amusement fades as Benson lifts his arm, near reverence in the swipe of his hand over his face. ‘Beautiful. Can I call you that?’
My heart thumps erratically in my chest as I nod. “Yeah.”
His palm fits to my cheek, his head dipping and his mouth brushing feather-light against a point just above my mouth before his lips are on mine.
There’s intent in the kiss. It doesn’t feel the same as rushing on to other things.
It’s not meant to be lascivious or even toe-curling.
But every line in my body bows toward Benson as if I’m a string he’s pulling taut.
The kiss is pure magic. It’s as reverent as that beautiful but far deeper reaching than mere skin. It’s as if he’s pressing the word into me, making me believe, with every swipe of his tongue, that he feels it down to his core. Sees it down to mine.
No, this isn’t casual, is it?
Benson’s mouth blazes a path down my skin again, stopping at my neck, my chest. His hands shake as they slide down my sides, pausing at my waistband. He lifts them, signing, ‘Not scared,’ before I can ask. ‘New.’
“Want to pause? Or we can switch, and I can undress you for a bit.”
He shakes his head. ‘Not scared,’ he repeats. ‘I want you so much it hurts.’
The raw pain on his face leaves me no room for doubt, but still, he doesn’t move further. “What do you need from me, Ben?”
He drops his head for only a second, his fingers running along the top of my waistband before lifting. ‘I don’t want to disappoint you.’
“You couldn’t ever,” I say vehemently, propping up on my elbows. “You know I won’t lie to you, right?”
He nods.
“Then I’ll tell you if I don’t like something. But you’ll never disappoint me. You could do nothing but kiss me for the rest of the night, and I wouldn’t be disappointed.”
He presses a soft kiss to my stomach, the span of his hands wide as they sweep over my skin. They shake in the air. ‘You’ll tell me?’
“Yeah,” I breathe out, fairly certain now I understand. “Every step of the way, Ben. I’ll tell you exactly how good you are for me.”