Craving Him

2

Ben

My shoot was at an old warehouse in Brooklyn so I was up early and across the Williamsburg Bridge before eight. I wish I could’ve stayed with Emmy last night, but I didn’t want to rush her. I’d done things all wrong the first time around and I was bound and determined to make things better for her. I would go at whatever pace she wanted, take care of her every need, and love her as long as she’d let me. I was one lucky bastard that I’d been forgiven, and it wasn’t something I took lightly.

That being said, I knew my limitations. I wasn’t good at going slow and didn’t trust myself not to try something if she was in the bed next to me. She was too luscious with those tempting curves. And I knew how good she fucked, how soft and silken her skin was, those sexy little noises she made when she came. . . . Damn, I was going to give myself an erection thinking about her like that. And seeing how this was a swimsuit shoot, and I was currently sporting a nut-constricting pair of briefs . . . that wouldn’t be good. Not unless I wanted to give everyone on set a show.

Still, I wished I could’ve spent more time with Emmy. Part of it was that I really didn’t like the look of the neighborhood she lived in. I’d already called a local company about installing a security system in their apartment.

Her roommate was a little firecracker, though. I had a feeling that even at one hundred and ten pounds tops, she’d give an intruder a swift kick to the balls if needed, a thought that made me feel only marginally better.

Fiona lingered just off set, her eyes roaming my nearly naked form every few moments. I hated how obvious she was and I couldn’t believe I’d never noticed it before. Now that Emmy had pointed it out, the way Fiona felt about me was reflected in her eyes, which made it a little difficult to be around her. Annoying, mostly. Nothing I couldn’t handle. This was work. Plain and simple.

I pulled my phone from my backpack near the makeup station to send Emmy a quick text before the shoot started. I needed to see her tonight.

Me: Hey baby. I want to take you out for dinner tonight. Are you free?

Emmy: Hiiii! Yes, that’d be great. I’ve been stuck inside all day looking for jobs.

Me: My driver will pick you up in front of your building at 7:00 and bring you to a restaurant in Midtown. I’ll take the train and meet you there.

Emmy: I don’t want to hog your car. I’m used to taking the train . . .

Me: No, you’ll be safer with Henry (my driver) and I don’t want to have to worry about you. See you tonight, baby.

Emmy: See you soon.

As soon as I shoved the phone back into my bag, Fiona approached.

“They’re just about ready for you, love. I asked them to adjust the lights so they wouldn’t be in your eyes too much.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“You look perfect,” she said softly.

I was spray-tanned and my chest and abs were freshly waxed. I’d hit the weight room extra hard the entire month Emmy was gone. I knew I was ready for swim season, which the fashion industry featured during the fall and winter, but I couldn’t help but feel the desperation rolling off Fiona in waves. “Should we do it?” I nodded toward the set, rather than acknowledge her compliment.

She led the way, and I trailed behind.

I knew I should tell her about me and Emmy and figured now was a good time. I wouldn’t have to see the pain in her eyes. I didn’t want to hurt her. “I’m back with Emmy.” Best to keep it simple and to the point.

Her head whipped in my direction, her mouth dropping open. “Oh?”

“Yes.” So much for not hurting her. Her eyes welled with tears, which she quickly blinked away. She didn’t say anything else, just went and sat alone beside the set in a rusty metal folding chair while I got in position for the photographer and tried to act like everything was fine.

Emmy

I wasn’t sure where Ben was taking me for dinner but knowing him, it’d be someplace upscale. He didn’t strike me as a sandwich-shop kind of guy. It was November in New York, which meant it was colder than Antarctica, or at least Tennessee, which was what my body was used to.

I wasn’t sure what to wear so I dressed in leggings with a super-soft cream-colored sweater that was long enough to cover my butt and my tall brown Audrey Boone boots that I’d gotten on sale. I added my navy pea coat then watched the street from our living room window.

Soon a sleek black sedan rolled to a stop at the sidewalk in front of our building. Henry. I didn’t know anything about this guy but if Ben trusted him, I guessed it was fine.

When I approached the car, he exited and opened the back passenger door for me. I didn’t know if I should sit up front since there were just two of us, but I stayed quiet and slid into the backseat.

“Good evening, Miss Clarke,” he said.

“Hi. It’s Henry, right?”

“Yes ma’am. Ben’s asked me to bring you to him at Prime Bistro. I’ve heard the food is great there.”

“Thank you, Henry.”

We rode in silence the reminder of the way while soft classical music played in the background. I watched the city come into view from the window, the skyline rising up in front of me, taking my breath away. The high-rises cast glittering reflections on the river while the sun sunk from view in the background. Coupled with the calming music in the otherwise quiet interior, the car was relaxing.

When we arrived at Prime Bistro Henry helped me from the car and I spotted Ben right away, waiting for me just inside the restaurant’s entrance.

He was dressed in gray dress pants and a white button-down shirt rolled at the sleeves, a wool jacket resting over his arm. I wondered if he’d worked today and if he’d seen Fiona, but all thoughts of her dissipated when he pulled me snuggly into his arms and pressed a kiss to my mouth.

“Hi, baby.” He smiled down at me and all was right with the world.

“Hi,” I returned, breathless from his tender and sweet kiss.

Ben took my hand, lacing his fingers between mine, and led me to our waiting table.

The restaurant was small and intimate, with a glowing stone fireplace at its center; creaky wood-plank floors were dotted with linen-covered tables. The aroma of fresh-baked bread and roasted meats permeated the air. A mouthwatering combination, if my reaction was any indication.

“This place is nice,” I commented as Ben helped me into an oversized red leather booth in the back.

“It’s great. I take my mom here anytime she comes to New York. She and I used to come here when I was a kid.” Ben spread his arms across the back of the booth, looking quite comfortable and happy to show me a place from his childhood.

It was nothing like the kid-friendly restaurants my parents had taken me and my brother, Porter, when we were kids. This wasn’t a peanut-shells-on-the-floor-with-a-play-set-in-the-back kind of place. The kind of place with those horribly sticky vinyl plastic tablecloths and grubby plastic menus, where you could be confident kids wouldn’t mess up anything. I was often reminded of how different Ben’s upbringing was from mine.

When the server appeared, we ordered drinks, a glass of red wine for me and a gin and tonic for him.

“How was your day? Did you work?”

He squeezed the wedge of lime into his drink and took a sip. “Yeah, swimsuit shoot. Went well, but it took longer than expected and I’m starving.”

Warm bread was delivered to our table and I buttered a slice for Ben, sliding the saucer toward him. “Here. Eat.”

“Food pusher,” he murmured under his breath, but one side of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

I buttered a slice for myself next and took a bite. I had to physically suppress my moan, the bread was so good. Crusty on the outside and warm and soft in the center. I hadn’t had bread like this since Paris. Ben’s eyes lifted and locked on mine. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing. We’d shared so many amazing times together in Paris and I didn’t want those memories to be overshadowed by the bitter way things had ended, with Fiona sending me packing in an attempt to keep Ben all to herself.

“What did you do today?” he asked, taking another sip of his drink.

“I looked for jobs all day. Applied to a couple of assistant positions for firms downtown.” I’d packed Ellie’s lunch before she’d left for work, too, a small sort of peace offering for all my erratic behavior lately. But I knew that’d just earn me another chuckle from him for being a food pusher.

“Any modeling agencies?” he asked, helping himself to a second slice of bread.

I nibbled on the bread in front of me, wondering if that was a twinge of jealousy I’d heard in his voice. He couldn’t possibly think that other male models would be interested in me. “No,” I confirmed. My adventures in the modeling world were done. I couldn’t handle the egos, the cattiness. “Investment banks, advertising agencies, places like that.”

He nodded, looking mildly relieved.

The server came by and we placed our order. Grilled salmon for Ben and a chicken Caesar salad for me.

I couldn’t help the burning questions still in my head. I wanted to move forward with him, but before I fully could, I knew I needed more answers. I took a sip of my wine for fortification. “Ben . . .”

“Hmm?”

“Was that the only, uh . . . time that Fiona spent the night with you in Paris?”

He reached across the table and took my hand, his thumb rubbing the back of my knuckles. “Yeah, baby. It was just that one time. She was sobbing and upset, so I couldn’t turn her away. I promise you, it wasn’t a regular occurrence.”

I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Okay. It’s just that you two were alone in Paris for three weeks without me. And I just feel like I don’t know what else might have happened.”

He shook his head, bringing my hand to his mouth and pressing a sweet kiss to the back of it. “Don’t. Don’t do that. I don’t want you playing the what-if game, replaying all the possible horrible scenarios in your brain. I was faithful to you, in my heart and in my head. I was too drunk to realize what was happening, and my body got used against me. It’s no excuse and I’ve regretted that night every day since then. It wasn’t clear to me at the time, but looking back, I know Fiona’s plan had been to seduce me. I never should have opened that door for her. What I woke up to in the middle of the night . . .”

I snatched my hand away. “Ben. Please, not so much detail. It still hurts to think about that night.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just thought it might help if you knew more about the situation.”

I drew a shaky breath. “You’re right. It might. But just not right now. I think I’d need more wine for that conversation and I don’t want to cry in public, so let’s just enjoy our meal.”

Fiona had been a constant source of tension in our short relationship so far. I didn’t trust her. And I hated that Ben had a weakness where she was concerned. It drove me mad, actually. But accepting him and moving forward with this relationship meant putting up with her. Something I wasn’t sure I could do successfully.

The mood between us had changed, grown tense by the time our food was delivered.

“Are you okay?” Ben asked.

I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

We ate much of the meal in silence, though his intense gaze often rested on mine. It wasn’t my intention to create this silent, tense moment but I wasn’t sure how to get back to the easy, flirty banter we used to share.

I wondered if perhaps we weren’t meant to have a relationship. Maybe we were nothing more than a fling of convenience, two people living in close quarters who shared a brief, albeit intense, connection.

While Ben paid the check, I excused myself for the ladies room. He met me in the back corridor and escorted me out to the curb. I wasn’t sure when he’d called Henry—must have been when I was in the restroom—but his black car was parked along the curb, right in front of the restaurant. This guy was like a ninja, always appearing just in time. It was baffling to me. I’d never known anyone with a car and driver.

Ben turned to face me, cupping my face in his big palms. “I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry I ruined dinner. I was trying to take you on a proper date but perhaps it was thoughtless of me. I should have taken you someplace private where we could’ve talked more.”

The sincere look in his deep-set hazel eyes just about undid me. I’d told him I wanted to go on proper dates and then I’d shut down on him in the restaurant, unable to handle the skeletons in his closet that he was willing to be so open about. “No. The date was nice. Thank you for showing me a place that you went to with your mom. That means a lot to me.”

He smiled and kissed my lips softly. “You’re welcome. I want to share pieces of New York and how I grew up with you.” He kissed my forehead. “Come on, let’s get in the car and get you out of the cold.”

Ben opened the door and I slid across the backseat, allowing him to ease in next to me. Having him close enough that I could smell his cologne was distracting. My body responded instantly to that scent, heart fluttering like a giddy idiot, my palms beginning to sweat.

Ben

I hadn’t instructed Henry about where we were going just yet but he pulled into traffic, seeming to understand that I needed a moment to talk to Emmy. Guy code or something.

“What’s going on inside that pretty head, baby?” I laced my fingers with hers.

She swallowed a lump in her throat, slowly turning to face me. “It’s just . . . maybe we aren’t compatible in New York.”

Whoa. Where was this coming from? “Of course we are. We know we’re compatible physically, emotionally, and intellectually, so why should it matter what city we’re in? I’ll move us both to Paris tomorrow if you think our relationship works better there.”

Her mouth softened, curling into a smile, and I brought her hand to my lips, leaving a damp kiss there.

I couldn’t seem to stop touching her. My hand rested against her thigh, clad in black leggings. I wanted to kiss whoever invented these body-hugging things. I bet her ass would look amazing. I wanted to peel them down her legs with my teeth, exposing inch by creamy inch of her skin. “Will you come home with me?”

Her eyes lifted to mine and she blinked in rapid succession, thinking it over. “Just to talk?”

I couldn’t lie to her. Not with those pretty grayish-blue eyes locked on mine, looking so sweet and innocent. “We can talk if you want. But I want you to stay the night.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, her teeth leaving an impression in the plump flesh. Shit. It was getting me hard. “Okay, I can stay over again . . . but I was serious when I said we needed to take our time, date, and go slow.”

I trailed my hand higher up her thigh, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. “If you won’t let me fuck you, can I at least taste your pussy, baby?”

Emmy let out a tiny whimper and her gaze shot forward to Henry. He wasn’t paying us any attention. I paid him enough to forget whatever he’d seen and overheard throughout the years. “He’s not listening,” I whispered.

“Ben . . .” she groaned, squirming against the leather seat.

I absolutely fucking loved how I could get her hot so easily. I loved watching her response to me. This was way better than texting with her. “We’re dating, baby, we’re allowed to have some fun, aren’t we?” I ran my nose along the curve of her neck, my warm breath causing her skin to respond by breaking out in chill bumps.

She swallowed and gripped the seat beside her.

“Henry, just one stop. My place,” I instructed.

Emmy

Ben lived in a historic district in the city with rows of beautifully ornate Victorian homes that had long ago been split into apartments. His was in a quaint redbrick building with a doorman and a red carpet on the sidewalk leading into the foyer. It was very classy and felt safe in an upscale area popular with small families and wealthy bachelors. It suited him perfectly.

We thanked Henry and greeted the night doorman before heading for the elevator.

Once we reached Ben’s apartment he tugged me inside, not bothering to turn on the lights. He pressed my back against the wall and lowered his mouth to mine. The moonlight drifting in through the big picture windows and Ben’s muscular body pressing into mine caused a moan to escape my throat. He deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking mine so hypnotically. His hips pressed forward, pinning me against the wall, and his hands roamed down my sides, gliding over my hips.

“Fuck, baby, are you trying to kill me with these leggings?”

I didn’t know he’d find my leggings sexy, I’d just wanted to be comfortable and cozy.

“See what you do to me?” Ben took my hand and pressed it into his pants-covered erection.

Holy hell. That thing was ready to burst through his zipper. That had to be painful.

“Turn around, let me see your ass.” His hands captured my hips and he spun me around.

My cheeks blossomed in heat. I’d forgotten how direct he was, and how hot I found that. He turned me into a horny mess with a single statement. Waiting and going slow was going to be harder than I ever imagined.

He filled his hands with my backside and released a strangled groan. “This ass is mine.” He pushed my sweater up out of the way and slowly peeled the leggings down over my bottom and thighs. He pressed a kiss to each cheek then spun me around to face him.

Still planted on his knees, Ben looked up at me, his eyes dark with desire. “Can I taste you, baby?”

I nodded, silently.

He pressed damp kisses along my inner thigh, his breath tickling me and making me squirm. His hands captured my hips so he could hold me in place while he slowly tortured me. Soft, tender lips tenderly caressed my thighs as he moved closer to my center. No way was I fighting this. I could already feel myself getting wet and he’d hardly touched me. Removing his hands from my hips, Ben pulled my panties down my legs, leaving them at my calves. I was still wearing my boots so this would have to do. He pressed forward, lightly kissing the top of my pubic bone.

Seeing Ben on his knees before me, worshipping my lady parts, was the most glorious sight in the world. I planted a hand in his dark hair and let out a breathy cry. “Bennn . . .”

His mouth covered me, greedily licking my folds, finding my clit and stroking it again and again in a brutal rhythm.

Holy crap!

My knees buckled and I nearly collapsed, but Ben caught me before I ended up in a tangled heap on the floor. Good thing, too, because I was sure to look like a moron with my panties and leggings shoved around my ankles. He lifted me into his arms and carried me to his bed, depositing me safely on the edge. He helped me remove my boots, pulling them off one by one and letting them drop to the floor with a thud.

I knew I’d told him we needed to slow our physical relationship—and I’d meant it—but in this moment slowing down was the last thing I wanted.

I helped him remove my clothing, kicking my panties from my legs in the most unladylike fashion.

Ben chuckled softly. It was obvious how needy I was for his touch. “Take this off, baby.”

I raised my arms to allow him to pull the sweater over my head.

Once he’d stripped me naked, he resumed kissing my thighs, working his way toward my center, but my hand on his shoulder stopped his progression.

“Ben . . . your clothes, too . . . off,” I murmured, disoriented.

“Baby, if I get naked with you, I don’t know how far things might go and I don’t want to push you.”

I didn’t care about him having restraint just then. The idea of having to use condoms didn’t stab at my heart the way it had the other day. “Take them off.”

Ben stood next to the bed, quickly shedding his clothes into a pile on the floor.

Standing in front of me, so tall and strong, Ben’s body provided an amazing view. His manhood was heavy and long and standing at attention for me. I reached out, wrapping my hand around him. His cock was so warm against my palm and I stroked him slowly from base to tip, loving the solid feel of him. He was so thick that my fingers didn’t completely close around him.

A shuddering breath hitched in his throat. “Shit, baby, watching your little hand trying to jerk me off is the hottest thing ever.”

I added a second hand, pumping him firmly. I wanted to make him feel good, to be consumed with desire for me.

He groaned when my hands moved together over his sensitive head. “Ah, fuck baby.” His entire body tightened, his abdominal muscles contracting deliciously. His hand caught mine. “You gotta stop. You’re going to make me come.”

I looked up at him in wonder. He was truly so beautiful. “You don’t want to?”

“Not tonight. We’re going slow, remember?”

I nodded obediently. Me and my dumb rules. “But won’t you be, um, uncomfortable later?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it later. All I want to do is get you off. That’s it.” He leaned down and kissed my mouth. “No sex. And you don’t even have to touch me.”

I pouted, my bottom lip jutting out. “But what if I want to?” I whimpered. I reached for his thick erection again but Ben’s hand caught my wrist.

“No. This time’s all about you.” Ben gently shoved my shoulders back and I fell against the bed.

I was still soaking wet from his earlier attention, and Ben wasted no time rubbing my slickened sex. His index finger made slow, sweeping circles around my folds.

I whimpered when his finger finally made contact with my clit.

“That feel good, honey?” He pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh. “Tell me, baby. Tell me this is what you want.”

“Yes, Ben, that feels good,” I panted, reaching for his length. “But I want you . . .”

He slid a finger inside me. “Not tonight. We’re waiting, remember?” His cocky grin begged me to disagree.

I moaned, both from frustration and pleasure.

Ben sunk to the bed, bringing his mouth in line with my navel, and slowly dragged his tongue down. I lifted my hips in the hopes of getting more contact with the glorious friction of his tongue. But he moved slowly, unrushed, gently kissing and nibbling my tummy.

Finally he settled where I needed him and kissed me tenderly, his warm mouth covering me. Within just moments of his skillful tongue sliding against me, I was done, finished, completely and utterly devastated. I came apart, loudly moaning his name.

Afterward, Ben tucked me in against his side, cocooning his body around mine, and held me while the aftershocks of my release pulsed through my body. I couldn’t help but notice he was still rock hard, but he didn’t complain. He seemed to have just what he wanted: me in his bed, wrapped up tightly in his arms.