Chapter 44
Ben could taste the mud. It was in his mouth. In his nose. In his ears... in his eyeballs. For a moment, he wondered if
he was going to suffocate. Then he felt hands on his back pulling him up.
Joe and Morris loomed over him.
“He looks like he’s been to one of them spas,” Joe said.
“Can ya hear us, son?” Morris asked.
Ben nodded in their general direction.
Mylie was in a similar state, mud coating her entire backside. He wanted to laugh, but the mud.
“Come on,” he heard Mylie say. “Let’s go get cleaned up.” She reached out and took his hand. “We can take the truck. It’s
already filthy.”
He used a handkerchief Morris gave him to wipe his face mostly clean as they bumped along toward the house. Ben couldn’t understand
how it could be such a beautiful day and so completely disgusting at the same time.
“That’s Arkansas for you,” Mylie said as if reading his mind.
“I’d forgotten about the mud,” he managed to say.
“You know,” Mylie continued. “If you don’t want to help with setup, you don’t have to. I know it’s a... lot.”
“It’s fine,” Ben replied. “I like it. I like being with you.”
Mylie pulled into his driveway. “Ugh, I feel disgusting.”
“We better get you cleaned up,” Ben said. He got out of the truck.
“We?” Mylie asked.
Ben grabbed her muddy hand and pulled her toward him. “What if we cleaned up... together?”
Mylie grinned. “I don’t think we have time.”
A sly smile crept over Ben’s mouth, flecking bits of dried clay onto his shirt. “Won’t it be faster if we wash each other
off?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Mylie replied, but she allowed herself to be tugged toward the house and up the stairs into Ben’s bathroom.
He turned on the shower and then watched Mylie as she took off her clothes, sighing with relief when the filthy clothes crumpled
to a heap on the tiled floor.
God, he loved looking at her. All he could think about was getting her into the shower and lathering her up. She sidled past
him and hissed when the hot water kissed her skin. Ben couldn’t get out of his own clothes fast enough.
Ben got in behind her, allowing the majority of the water to fall onto her as he squeezed out a bit of his shower gel and
rubbed it onto her back.
“Smells like a man,” Mylie said, twisting around to look at him. She pulled her damp hair away from her shoulders, revealing
her breasts, and Ben took the invitation.
“Well,” Ben said, making soapy circles. “I am a man, you know.”
She reached up on her tiptoes to nip his neck with her teeth. “I know.”
Ben could hardly think. He’d gone from muddy and miserable to... this. He felt a pang of guilt for keeping secrets from
her. In this moment, she was everything. He couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.
“Are you okay?” Mylie asked him.
“I’m more than okay,” Ben murmured into her ear, forcing himself back to reality, back to her.
“I need you closer to me.”
Ben kissed her, pushing her into the back of the shower, running a wet hand down her stomach and between her legs. She moaned,
parting for him, her breath becoming pants when he got to his knees and let his tongue go to work. Her hands caught in his
hair, and he felt her nails rake his scalp when he flicked his tongue over her most sensitive spot.
“Right there,” she gasped.
He dug one hand into her hip, lifting her leg over his shoulder, moving faster against her clit until she cried out.
Slowly, he stood, taking the time to kiss her navel, her nipples, and finally the heat of her mouth. He didn’t know how he’d
lived without her for so long. He didn’t know how he could miss something he’d never had until now, but he had. Fuck, he had.
“Turn around,” he growled.
She obeyed, placing her palms on the back wall of the shower, pushing her plump ass out, inviting him to do with her what
he will, and it drove him wild.
Slowly, so slowly, he slid himself into her. Ben wrapped one arm around her waist until he was so deep inside of her that
he could scarcely breathe. They stayed like that for a few exquisite moments until Mylie began to move on him, sliding up
and down onto his cock.
Ben closed his eyes and concentrated on her back, on the little dip above her buttocks where water collected, running down
to her... he couldn’t take it. He pressed into her until her breasts were flush against the wall, driving into her with
such force that she cried out.
He paused, realizing that maybe he’d hurt her, but she managed to let out a strangled, “Don’t stop,” and that was all the
invitation he needed.
He didn’t stop. Not until they were both breathless and gasping for air. Not until his legs felt like jelly, and they slid to the floor, tangled in each other, flushed from the steam.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Ben said, “We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry.”
Mylie rested her head against his shoulder and pressed her fingers into his palm. “I don’t care,” she said. “Stay with me
just a few more minutes.”
Ben did. He wished, right then, that he could stay with her forever. He wished it could be like this forever. There was nothing he wanted more than to feel her weight against him, feel her breathing beside him, knowing that
it was because of him, for him , that she gave herself.
He’d tried to tell her the night he cooked her dinner. He’d wanted to. The longer he waited the worse he felt, but it never
seemed like it was a good time. He’d tell her later, about the house. After the tournament. After he’d had time to decide
what to say and how to fix it. Right now, he was going to hold her close. He was going to let himself pretend that this was
the beginning and not the beginning of the end.