Chapter 39
Sasha giggled as Ben scooped her up, but the stairs up to her flat were steep and he crashed into one of the picture frames. There was the tinkle of glass breaking. ‘Oops!’ his voice rumbled. ‘Sort it out later.’
He set her down at the landing, her body sliding slowly down his, until they were chest to chest. As Sasha’s feet touched the floor, her knees sagged with lust. She hung onto him and they kissed again, laughing against each other’s mouth.
Then she dragged him by his hand into the living room, where he sank onto the sofa, pulling her down on top of him.
Her hands grabbed a fistful of his linen shirt as he landed feather-light kisses all over her face. Then his hands reached under her blouse, stroking and tracing circles on her back. ‘Is this OK?’
‘Yes . . . it feels amazing. Can I?’ He nodded and she reached under his shirt, desperate, needing to touch his skin. Her hands roamed over his muscled back, gripping him firmly to her.
They shifted to lying on their sides, squashed into the sofa, and she stared straight in his eyes.
In the low light they were like liquid copper, molten with desire.
He kissed her again, more deeply this time, their tongues sliding against each other, slow and wet.
She made small sounds of appreciation in her throat, and he groaned, the noise driving her wild.
Her leg hooked around his, her body throbbing with pleasure, hot need making her press up against his jeans.
Somehow his shirt and her blouse were off, his hands roamed up to her breasts, a finger slipping under her bra.
She reached back to undo it and fling it off.
He bracketed her with his arms, holding himself back and looking at her half-naked.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he whispered. ‘Can I touch you?’
‘Yes – please . . .’ Sasha begged.
He curved his hands, cupping her breasts, stroking gently, thumbs grazing her nipples, then squeezing and driving her wild again.
Her body was thrumming, the heat building into a furnace.
This was what she had been craving all day, every day.
For weeks. Months. Finally she was here.
His body pressing right up against hers.
Enjoying these long, slow, sexy kisses. Desire throbbing and molten between them.
As they moved against each other, they rolled off the sofa.
‘Ooof!’
Luckily, it was a low sofa and the floor wasn’t too far. They giggled, and carried on kissing, hands all over each other.
The slow push–pull of attraction had been building for months.
Now the tension was being released, falling away hard and fast. Her fingers were combing through his hair, tugging and pulling him close, closer still.
As more tension built and dissolved, she revelled in a delicious rush of heat between her legs.
He kissed her deeply, then pulled back again, gazing deep in her eyes, a smile on his face.
‘What?’ She raised her eyebrows.
‘Let’s go – to your bed?’
She grinned and nodded, grabbing his hand, dragging him into her room. This morning, which felt like a year ago, she’d carelessly thrown the duvet in a heap over her bed. But Ben didn’t care that she was a slob. They tore off the rest of their clothes. And then she pulled him down onto her bed.
Sasha woke as sunlight filtered through the curtains. It would be another hot day. Ben’s arm was heavy round her chest, holding her close. She was lying on her side, curled into him, like a spoon. She shuffled backwards, pressing into his body, feeling his hardness stirring.
‘Mmm,’ he murmured sleepily and pulled her closer. She wriggled round, turning to look at him.
Ben. It was incredible that he was here. In her bed. She’d slept so well in his arms. The worry of the last few weeks had completely disappeared.
He turned and flopped on his back, and let out a tiny snore. She watched him, smiling. He looked younger, the worry lines on his forehead smoothed by sleep.
Then her stomach rumbled. She’d been so busy and stressed the previous day that she’d hardly eaten. She moved to get up.
‘Don’t go.’ His eyes were still shut but a hand shot out and held her wrist.
‘I’m starving. I’ll come back with breakfast. Stay right there.’
He tugged and she was back down, lying on her side, as he shifted to face her, sleepily opening his eyes. ‘Breakfast in bed? How can I resist?’
He pulled her towards him. His body radiated heat and his muscular chest had a scattering of brown hairs that made him extra snuggly. He leaned over to kiss her.
‘Morning breath,’ she murmured nervously. She hadn’t had time to brush her teeth last night, let alone this morning.
‘Like I care about that.’
As they kissed she soon forgot about brushing her teeth or breakfast.
After a while, her stomach rumbled again. She laughed and pulled away. ‘I’ll be right back.’ He grabbed her for a few more kisses before letting her go.
In the bathroom she had a pee and threw on her dressing gown and slippers and padded down to the café.
The day before, Anders had brought over fresh croissants that would only need a brief five minutes of heat.
It was just past ten and she hadn’t planned to open until twelve since it was a bank holiday.
She glanced over her beloved café. Was the festival only two days ago?
It felt like a whole lifetime had passed.
She stared at the rows of dessert trays, drying on the rack.
She put on the kettle and scooped a few loose leaves of Ben’s favourite Oolong into a teapot and laid a tray with the crackle glaze cups and plates that matched his eyes.
On the counter, there was a bunch of papers from Eleanor, including a leaflet for Wisdom Kitchens.
‘Urgh!’ she exclaimed and picked it up. Flicking through it, she noticed a headshot of the business owner, Rafe Allbright.
He looked familiar. She looked at the photo a bit closer.
If she imagined him in a suit, his hair slightly longer he could be . . .
Yes it was him! The man Ben had been meeting in Coffee Bean.
Her heart thudded hard. Her stomach knotted with tension. How weird. How did Ben know him? Was he working with him? She left the breakfast things and stomped upstairs, the leaflet in her hand.
Ben had fallen asleep again, lying back on her pillows, arms and legs outstretched, as if he owned her bed.
She nudged his leg and barked harshly: ‘How’d you know this guy?’
Ben started up, blinking, his hair rumpled with sleep. He looked adorable. But she couldn’t relax and enjoy the sight. Not now suspicion wound through her mind.
Eleanor had told her this Rafe Allbright had a local partner. Had she meant Ben?
‘How d’you know this guy?’ she repeated, holding out the leaflet. ‘I saw you in Coffee Bean, having a meeting with him.’
‘He’s – oh, Rafe.’ Ben blinked, as if confused. ‘Yeah – of course, you saw us – we worked together in the City when I was working for a bank. He left before I did and retrained as a carpenter.’
‘Let me get this right. You know the guy taking over my lease? The one who beat me by offering an inflated price? He’s a friend of yours?’
Ben swallowed. ‘I wanted to tell you . . .’
‘I assume you are the local partner working with him? The one Eleanor hinted about – are you displaying your ceramics with him?’ She could tell by the guilty look in his eye she was right.
‘Sasha, please. Let me explain . . .’
‘No! No explanation needed!’ Her heart was thumping with fury.
Her head flushed hot, as if she was about to explode.
‘Muggins over here is not being taken for a fool again. Get out, Ben. I can’t believe it.
I’m going for a shower, and then I’m going out – I’m opening up the café soon. Please be gone by then.’
Sasha grabbed some clothes and marched into the shower, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She turned the water as hot as she could stand it, scrubbing away with her lavender shower gel, as if she could scrub Ben away. After her shower, she dressed in the bathroom, then ran downstairs to the café, sobbing. She should have known this was too good to be true.
After all this time. After all the heartache. Ben was her enemy after all.