Chapter 15
ELIAS
Ideliberated for twenty minutes in the bathroom mirror about whether or not to shave the stubble on my chin for the party tonight. After finally deciding to go unshaven, I comb my hair for the fifth time before going out to meet Ben.
Why am I so nervous? It’s just a stupid party. As Ben said, no one will even notice me. His mother will be surrounded by her friends and be too busy having a good time to notice one more guest.
But Ben will notice, won’t he?
He’s waiting for me in the kitchen. Catering staff buzz around, carrying trays of tiny canapes and glasses of champagne.
I’m caught short at the sight of him in a nice suit, running a hand through his dark hair.
Something gnaws in my stomach at how attractive he looks.
The healthy flush on his cheeks. The brightness of his big brown eyes.
He turns and catches me looking and that blush deepens. The smile on his face is uncertain.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hello.” I glance around at the hubbub surrounding us and ask if there’s anything I can do to help, already knowing the answer.
“The best thing we can do is stay out of the way.”
Ben grabs two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and leads me through a corridor leading off from the kitchen. I watch his back as he directs us through the cavernous house. Stately paintings on every wall. Wallpaper embossed with a damask pattern. Heavy mahogany doors.
Finally, he reaches one of these doors and pushes it open with his shoulder.
I have to bite my lip to stop the gasp that tries to force its way out at the sight of all the books packed into bookcases, climbing from floor to ceiling on every wall.
“I thought the library at that sorority house was impressive.”
Ben hands me a glass and turns his back again, walking toward a large window and opening the curtains.
Light floods in, exposing flecks of dust in the air. I suddenly feel like Belle. But the Beast has already transformed into a handsome prince.
Ben’s watching me, biting his lip. Is he waiting for my approval? Because he has it.
“It’s mostly full of stuffy law books and first editions no one’s allowed to touch,” he says. “If it were my library, it would be full of books people actually want to read.”
“Like what?” My mouth is dry so I take a sip of my champagne. The bubbles burn in my empty stomach.
Ben shrugs, looking shy. “I don’t know. The fun classics, like the Bronte sisters.”
I almost spit my drink back into the glass. “The Bronte sisters—fun?”
He chuckles, those attractive pink blotches appearing on his cheeks. It’s about time I fully acknowledge how attracted to this man I am. And how dangerous that is.
He takes a long sip of his champagne while I try not to watch the liquid’s journey down his throat. Try to push out thoughts of wrapping my lips around his Adam’s apple and sucking.
“What?” he asks when he catches me. “You’re looking at me like you’re about to eat me.” His eyes get wide and his face flushes deeper.
I laugh. “I was considering it.”
“Elias….” he starts.
“Yes?”
“What you said … about me being … distracted?”
Yes? My heart races. The pit of my stomach burns as I wait for him to continue.
He swallows, drops his gaze to the carpet. “Maybe it would be a good idea to …”
Yes?
He rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know … practice?”
My breath hitches. I try to act cool. “Practice the way we practice tennis?”
His gaze flickers back up, eyes sparkling when they land on my face, lingering on my mouth.
“Yeah.” He licks his lips and it takes everything in me not to cross the room and take him right here. Perhaps on that ridiculously uncomfortable-looking chaise.
I stop myself. Remembering that this would be Ben’s first time. And that it would be a big responsibility.
“You do understand that I plan to go out on the pro tour by next summer?”
Something flashes across his face. Disappointment? Annoyance?
“Yes,” he says, straightening. “I understand that. It would be no-strings-attached.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
He clenches his jaw before nodding.
I take a step closer. He remains where he is. Holding his ground.
“Ben, are you sure?”
Squaring his shoulders, he keeps looking me straight in the eye. “Yes. I’m sure.”
I feel the smile stretch across my face. Ben mirrors it.
When we go back out to the party, Tabitha grabs us and introduces us to various guests. It annoys me that she seems more excited to show me off than her impressive son.
Luckily, Ben’s awful father is nowhere to be seen. Probably locked away somewhere discussing business mergers and smoking cigars. Safely tucked away from all the little folk and women.
I resist the urge to squeeze Ben’s hand as I catch the strained smile on his face while his mother introduces us to yet another guest.
I’m desperate to escape. I have no idea if Ben intended us to start ‘practicing’ tonight, but I’m sure he could be convinced.
Something tugs in the back of my mind any time I think about him assuring me that this is what he wants.
That he understands the stakes. I push it down.
Ben’s friends and family all treat him like he is unable to make his own decisions.
I will not be one more person treating him like a child.
Ben is intelligent and perfectly capable of making his own decisions.
And if he wants to make a bad one with me, who am I to stand in the way?
It's getting dark outside when we’re ushered into the garden. A stage has been set up and a band appears to be getting ready to play. Tabitha is distracted enough to let us go, being dragged out herself by a group of excitable friends.
“If we want to slip away,” Ben says close to my ear. “Now would be the perfect time.”
I swallow, my throat dry. A curt nod tells him I’m on board.
His eyes shine before he turns and begins leading the way up the winding staircase to his room.
The boom of the speakers outside is muffled in here. Excitable squeals mingle with the female singer, doing a cover of some 90s pop tune.
“Sorry, my mom has terrible taste in music.”
“No Lana?”
“Hey,” Ben pouts. “You said you wouldn’t tease me.”
“Oh Ben, if I’m teasing you, believe me, you’ll know it.”
He gulps. Eyes growing impossibly wide as I take the steps necessary to reach him.
I put my hand on the back of his neck and feel how clammy he is. When I rub my thumb along his pulse, it’s racing. My voice sounds strange when I ask if he’s okay.
He bites his lip and nods.
“I’ve heard fraternity members are taught how important verbal consent is.”
He huffs a laugh through his nose, his voice cracking when he speaks. “Yes. I’m okay.”
“Good.”
My own heart pounds in my ears as I lower my face the few inches to reach his mouth. There’s the slightest hint of champagne on his tongue. The scent of clean laundry and expensive cologne on his skin.
When his hands get involved in the kiss, I practically sink into him. His fingers tangling in my hair and grasping at my shirt. He whimpers into my mouth when I grind against him.
He’s breathless when he pulls away. Lips a little swollen and his cheeks flushed.
“We’d better get my pants off, just in case.”
He smiles and the sight makes me melt. I don’t want to break apart, but I do want to see him undressed—somewhere outside of a locker room, where I’m actually allowed to admire him.
I take a step back, just enough for him to be able to undress himself. He unbuttons his shirt, unable to meet my eye.
“Hey,” I say, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. “You can’t be shy with me if we’re going to do this.”
He looks up at me with wide eyes. “I don’t know if I can be anything other than shy.”
Another reminder that this is probably a bad idea pops up like an alert, but I push it away. I can handle whatever fallout this may bring. I’m sure Ben can, too.
I take his face in my hands until he’s forced to look me in the eye.
“You don’t have anything to be shy about.”
His eyelids flutter, like he wants to look away, but he forces himself to maintain eye contact.
“Tell me what you’re most worried about. Maybe I’ll be able to reassure you.”
He squirms and I let go of his face.
“I guess I’m just worried that I’ll be too … overeager … like last time.”
“So, we’ll get your pants off first this time—”
“It’s not just about getting my pants off.”
He bites his lip again. I wish he’d stop doing that if he wants me to be able to focus.
“I … well, everything’s going to feel so new and good, and … what if I embarrass myself by being so….” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Loud.”
His face flushes a deeper shade.
“Ben, do you know how much of a turn on it is to know the that person you’re sleeping with is enjoying themselves?”
His gaze quickly flashes up to mine.
“Be as loud as you want. Say whatever you like. God, I hope you enjoy yourself. That’ll be the biggest turn on for me—giving you pleasure.”
His breath catches in his throat, causing my pants to tighten painfully. I swallow, practicing patience.
“But if you decide you don’t want to do this, that’s fine too.”
He looks horror-stricken. “Do you still want to do it?”
I give him a greedy once over. All the way from his feet in tennis shoes to his messy hair. “Definitely.”
“Okay,” he says, biting his lip in that painfully seductive manner again. “Let’s do it.”
Oh, thank fuck!
He actually moves a half second before I do this time. Finishing the job he started on his shirt buttons.
I’ve seen his chest before in the locker room, but it’s extra nice seeing it in his bedroom, knowing I get to touch it and do all manner of other sexy things.
He’s broad-shouldered, smooth-chested and lightly tanned.
Dark nipples pebbling as my gaze roams greedily over his body.
His cheeks are flushed down to his neck. A blush dappled across his pecs.