Chapter 20
Katherine
Kath stepped inside like she always did—mask on, shoulders squared, smirk locked and loaded. Routine. Familiar.
But the moment her eyes found him, something tightened in her chest.
Ben was already seated. Already watching. But not in the usual way.
He wasn’t poised tonight. Not smooth. Not charming.
He looked…tired. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair, his fingers steepled loosely in front of his mouth, gaze fixed on her like she was a puzzle he no longer had the energy to solve.
The room didn’t buzz with anticipation. It hummed with static.
She tilted her head, cautious now. Testing the air. “Rough night?”
Ben’s lips moved, but it wasn’t a smile. Just a flicker of motion that didn’t reach his eyes. “You could say that,” he said. “Been a tense few days.”
There was no inflection. No teasing. Just fact. Dry and clipped.
Kath stilled. A part of her tried to brush it off—play the game, keep the rhythm. She forced a smirk. “Some people thrive on tension.”
But Ben didn’t rise to the bait. Didn’t give her anything.
His stare didn’t soften, it sharpened.
"You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?"
And that? That wasn’t banter.
That was a blade.
The words sliced through the air, too precise to be casual, too calm to be safe.
Something inside Kath went quiet. Alert. Her smirk faltered, just a breath.
Because Ben wasn’t masked tonight.
Blondie began to move—confident, fluid, every step choreographed control. But the air felt wrong.
Ben didn’t watch her the way he usually did. The sharp focus was still there, but something had shifted—cooled. Hardened. No tension. No visible reaction. Just silence, and a stare so weighted it made her skin prickle.
"You ever make a mistake so fucking big," he said suddenly, voice low and far too calm, "it stains you—even when you can't remember why it hurt so much in the first place?"
The words sat in the air, raw and unguarded.
Kath’s breath caught. Just for a second. That kind of confession didn’t belong here—not in this room, not between them.
But she covered it with a familiar tilt of her lips. Her armor. "Sounds like you’re a few sessions behind on therapy."
Ben laughed. Not the good kind. It was quiet, rough—like something splintered had scraped up his throat on the way out.
"Yeah," he said. "Maybe."
But he didn’t look away.
And suddenly, it wasn’t a game anymore.
Kath watched him carefully, the usual banter and flirtation between them replaced by a heavy, almost palpable tension.
He didn't answer right away, instead rolling his glass in his hand, the whiskey catching the light. And in that moment, Kath knew there was something more—a memory, a regret, something that had etched itself into the lines of his face.
Finally, Ben spoke, his voice low and tinged with a rare vulnerability. "I was barely more than a kid. Fresh out of law school. Thought I knew everything. But I didn't."
Kath stilled, her heart beating a little faster. This wasn't the usual game they played—this was something real and raw.
She waited, watching as Ben's grip tightened around the glass.
"Sometimes, you don't realize you're playing someone else's game until it's too late," he continued, the words laced with a quiet pain that made Kath's chest ache.
She wanted to stop him, to ask what had happened, but against all her better judgment, the words slipped out before she could stop them. "And what would you do if you could go back?"
Ben's gaze met hers, and for a moment, she saw something vulnerable there—a glimpse of the man beneath the carefully constructed facade. He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.
Katherine watched his expression shifted, the vulnerability from moments ago disappearing behind a carefully constructed mask. His smirk returned, sharper and more defensive than before, as if he regretted letting her see that glimpse of the man beneath the surface.
"I don't waste time looking backward," he said, his voice regaining its usual cool, detached tone. The silence that followed was heavy, almost enough to crack the tension that had built up between them. Almost.
Katherine’s gaze dropped, catching on the rim of his glass—there was a faint chip in the crystal, just off the edge, barely visible. She focused on that, irrationally fixated for half a second. A flaw. Out of place. Like this moment. Like this version of him—unguarded, but fleeting.
The silence stretched, almost kind. Almost safe.
Then he spoke again—and the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding slipped away.
But then, his smirk deepened, and Kath recognized the finality in his expression. "And that's not why I came here tonight," he added, effectively slamming the door shut on the brief moment of vulnerability he had allowed her to witness.
Katherine exhaled slowly, recognizing the shift in the atmosphere. Whatever had prompted Ben's rare display of openness had passed, and they were back on familiar ground – the game they had been playing for weeks, a dance of seduction and power that neither of them seemed willing to abandon.
Kath stepped forward, her mask settling into place like a second skin as she approached him. That practiced confidence—her most reliable weapon—enveloped her, readying her for the familiar dance of teasing words and calculated touches that had always kept her firmly in command.
But before she could deploy a single practiced line, Ben moved with unexpected purpose.
His fingers circled her wrist—not roughly, but with an unmistakable authority that permitted no resistance.
Katherine's pulse betrayed her beneath his touch, hammering against the point where skin met skin, though her face remained a study in composure as he guided her downward with deliberate intent.
"You didn't think I forgot, did you?" His voice cut through the space between them, dark as midnight and heavy with intentions.
Kath tilted her head, clinging to her coy facade even as electricity raced across her skin from the anchor point of his grip. "Forgot what, Mr. S.?" The question hung in the air, her controlled tone at odds with the sudden vulnerability she fought to conceal.
His grip tightened slightly on her wrist - not painful, but a clear warning that tonight would be different. This wasn't their usual game. This was collection.
"You gave me something," Ben murmured, his smirk sharp and knowing. "And they interrupted us last time."
His hands traced over her thighs with slow, possessive strokes that made her breath catch.
"Now it's my turn." His voice dripped with dark promise.
There was no question in his tone, no room for debate.
Just pure certainty. Katherine's body responded instantly, betraying her before she could even think to protest. Her breath left her in a rush, like he'd pushed every coherent thought from her mind. Her knees parted slightly of their own accord.
She surrendered herself to his dominance, acutely aware that Ben's touch wasn't mere exploration—it was possession.
Each press of his fingers staked territory, marked boundaries only he dared cross. Tonight, she recognized the dangerous glint in his eyes—he wouldn't stop until her body carried the memory of his ownership in every trembling nerve ending.
Kath expected his usual pattern - the teasing brush of fingers, the slow build of tension. That's how their dance always began. But tonight, Ben had other plans.
His mouth found her throat without warning, lips ghosting over her skin in the lightest caress before pressing more firmly. The unexpected intimacy made her pulse jump, and when his teeth grazed that sensitive spot just below her jaw, her breath caught sharply in her throat.
Ben hummed against her skin, the sound vibrating through her. "Sensitive here, aren't you?" His voice held that infuriating note of satisfaction, like he'd discovered exactly what he was looking for.
She pressed her lips together, refusing to give him the response he wanted. She wouldn't let him win that easily, wouldn't admit how much his touch affected her.
But Ben didn't need her words. He sank his teeth into that same spot, not hard enough to mark but with clear intent.
The sensation shot straight through her, drawing an involuntary gasp from her lips.
She felt his smile against her skin, felt his satisfaction in the way his hands tightened on her hips. He'd gotten exactly what he wanted - proof that she couldn't maintain her careful control, not when he touched her like this.
Her skin blazed beneath his fingers, each contact point igniting currents that scorched through her veins and settled deep in her core.
When his mouth began its deliberate descent, claiming territory his hands had already conquered, her pulse crashed like thunder against her ribcage.
His lips mapped the swell of her breasts with devastating precision, his breath searing through the flimsy barrier of lace.
The slick, hot drag of his tongue against dampening fabric wrenched a tightness deep in her abdomen, and when his teeth caught the sensitive peak beneath, Katherine's spine bowed sharply, her body surrendering what her pride wouldn't—offering herself to the exquisite torment of his mouth.
"You like that," Ben growled against her flesh, dark satisfaction saturating his voice. The rumble of his words vibrated straight to her bones.
Kath's breath fractured in her lungs, escaping in ragged fragments. Her frame quaked beneath his relentless attention, a shameless confession written in tremors and silent pleas. Language abandoned her—any denial would die on her tongue.
Pretense had become pointless. He read her responses like sacred text—felt the truth in every involuntary shudder, every choked gasp, every instinctive press against the commanding grip of his hands.