Chapter 10
Wild Ones Tip #645
Mean what you say. Or keep your mouth shut. And don’t get upset when we put words in your mouth if you plead silence.
LILAH
I jerk awake, feeling around for Benson, but his side of the bed is cold. I do hear muffled words coming from the bathroom, and I stand to go listen.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Mom. I’m not concerned with any of that. Haven’t been in a long time. That’s not why I still live here.” He grows quiet, and my brow furrows. This is the first time I’ve ever heard him talk to any of his family.
“Yeah. Two weeks from now. I’ll see you guys then.”
Again he grows quiet, and I shamelessly press my ear to the door.
“I’ve already told you I don’t care if they come, but it’s up to you which rooms they take. They’ve come plenty of other times. Just so long as it’s nowhere near mine, I’ve never given a damn which rooms they’re in.”
He groans like he’s frustrated.
“I know they’re divorced. I don’t see her like that anymore. But stop thinking we’re going to be that kind of family that doesn’t have scars.”
I frown, pulling back from the door.
“Look, I have to go. I have some friends who crashed here last night.”
Yes, I keep listening, wondering if he might mention me to his mother. Then realize how creepy that sounds and hope he doesn’t mention me.
“Yes, I have friends, Mom,” he says, sounding amused. “Many of them.”
Another beat passes.
“Because it’s Tomahawk.”
I roll my eyes, inwardly groaning as he chuckles, and I back away from the door. Apparently his family and his friends get the same reasoning as to why one can’t know about the other.
I jog back to the bed, looking guilty as hell when he swings open that door. His eyes widen in surprise that I’m awake. Or maybe he’s surprised that I’m here. I suddenly feel underdressed, because this is not how I envisioned this morning going after last night.
He opens his mouth to speak, when we hear laughter float up the stairs.
“Benson! You awake yet? We can’t get your fancy stove to work!” Paul yells. “And we’re starving.”
He groans, and I tug at the ends of his shirt to cover me a little better.
My boat and Aunt Penny’s Jeep are both here, and I decide on the Jeep as he hustles out without saying a word. He’s always embarrassed the day after drinking, and last night…things got real.
Now he’s dodging me.
Got it. I don’t need a sign.
I do need pants.
Quickly, I hurry to the room where my clothes are, find something to wear, brush my teeth, and creep down the stairs to the sounds of people chuckling.
“That damn dog destroyed the fireworks,” I hear Joey saying. I forgot he was even here last night. There were a lot of people still here when we went to bed.
Sounds like they still are, but I tiptoe out the back—or front!—door to the Jeep. I’m silent as I close the door, and then I crank it and put it in gear, getting out like it’s the walk of shame, minus the fun, shameful part.
I make the long drive through town, then drive all the way to Aunt Penny’s, park her Jeep, and hop out, pulling my backpack on as I go. I slowly walk through the woods, hoping that cougar isn’t lurking for round two, since I’m unarmed. Again.
My eyes stay on the bank, somewhat hoping to hear the roar of Benson’s boat. But that doesn’t happen. And when I get to my cabin, my dock is empty, except for my brothers’ boat that is tied off next to the broken end of the dock they still haven’t repaired.
I stalk up my steps, into my cabin, and crash to my very uncomfortable couch as I stare up at the ceiling. At least I have work that needs to be done.
I glance into my bedroom, and I grin when I see my brothers really did rebuild my bed to the proper size. It’s even made.
I go to the bed, sigh as I pull the covers back and find fake spiders all over the sheet.
They didn’t want to piss me off too badly, or those bastards would have been real. Then I would have had to burn the bed down. Possibly the cabin too.
After cleaning it off, I get to work.
Almost an hour passes, and I already have three out of four of my jobs done for the week. I’m on a roll, when there’s suddenly a pounding at my door. A very loud, very angry pounding.
“You assholes are not getting in! You promised on the graves you’d leave me alone!”
I grab my BB gun from beside the couch, pumping it once, preparing for battle.
“It’s me. Put the gun down and open the door.”
Benson.
I glance around, wondering if he can somehow see me through the solid door. My windows have curtains blocking out the sun, keeping the glare off my laptop.
Apparently he just knows me really well, since there’s literally no other way he could know what I’m doing.
Warily, I put the laptop aside, then creep to the door and unlock it. Before I can get it all the way open, he’s shouldering his way inside.
My breath leaves in a rush as he grabs my waist with one hand, and his other hand tangles in my hair, tugging my head back seconds before his mouth finds mine.
His tongue…I think I love his tongue, I decide, when it starts doing indescribably wonderful things to mine—teasing me, taunting me, fueling me.
I moan into his mouth as the kiss grows more aggressive, and my hands slip up to his shoulders as he presumably kicks the door shut.
He starts walking me backwards, still devouring my mouth, and I clutch him closer, drinking him in just as hungrily.
Maybe I read the situation wrong this morning, because this does not feel like a guy who regrets telling me he wanted me.
He lifts me, moving toward the bedroom, then pauses when he breaks the kiss.
I take the chance to breathe and look at his face. I’m so glad I can finally see his face, because those lips are perfect. I really love those lips.
“They fixed your bed,” he says, causing me to blink and try to get some senses back.
“Yeah,” I tell him, sounding breathy and girly at the same time.
He looks around warily. “Did you check under the sheets?”
“Fake spiders. They’re gone.”
He nods, still looking around.
“What about under the bed?”
“Nothing there.”
“You’re sure?”
I reach up and grab a handful of hair on the back of his head and drag his mouth back down to mine. He groans, and his hands go back to gripping me and walking me backwards.
My knees touch the bed, and he starts lowering me to it. We slide onto it together as he starts tearing at my shirt.
“Get naked,” I demand, and he grins against my lips.
“Not until you tell me why you snuck out.”
I gawk at him. “Are you kidding?” I ask incredulously, causing his eyebrows to go up.
At his oblivious stare, I realize he’s not kidding.
“You came out of the bathroom, took one look at me, and suddenly you looked as guilty as I felt for eavesdropping. Then you disappeared downstairs without saying a word. I figured it was like all the times before—after you woke up from being drunk, where you regret getting handsy, only this time you also confessed something you didn’t mean.”
He studies my eyes, then his gaze rakes over my face. “You’re painfully beautiful in the mornings,” he says randomly. “Especially when you’re on my bed, looking lost and expectant.”
He blows out a breath, his lips brushing mine again. “I don’t say the right things, or you’d have been in my bed even when I had a bad beard.”
I laugh, caught off guard by that confession.
He smirks. “So I figured I’d get everyone out of the damn house and show you exactly how good this could be between us. I didn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing.”
I grin like an idiot. Oh, now I get why Delaney likes this dating thing so much. I’ve never been much of a goofy grinner until this moment.
“Well, not saying anything at all was the wrong thing too.”
He snorts, then rolls his eyes. “So I’ve noticed.”
He pushes up off the bed, and I lean up on my elbows to watch him as he tugs off his untied boots. My heartbeat gets faster as he pulls his shirt over his head, and my eyes hungrily rake over his body.
I can feel him watching me as I watch him shove his sweats down to his feet. No boxers. Yay!
Oh!
Wow…
“I hope you’re on birth control,” he says.
Remember how I thought Liam was freakishly gorgeous? Well, Benson is freakishly physically perfect. Like, even his penis is a work of art.
I almost don’t understand his words, because I’m staring at that very hard, very large, perfect penis.
“I am,” I murmur dumbly.
He stalks to me, and my breath leaves when he jerks my shorts down my legs, surprising me with his roughness. When I look up, I see the desperation in his eyes, and it matches mine.
As he drags my shorts off my legs, I throw my shirt over to a corner, baring myself completely to him. He comes down on top of me, his lips finding mine again as I buck against him, searching for that perfect penis.
“Fuck, I can’t believe this is finally happening,” he groans against my neck, spreading my legs wider.
Trying to form a response becomes impossible when his head suddenly dips and disappears between my thighs. One swipe of his tongue has me forgetting the English language.
Two swipes of his tongue has me forgetting my name.
Three swipes of his tongue has me only remembering his name.
When he fastens that incredible mouth around my clit, I become a writhing, wild animal beneath him. He growls against me, holding my hips down, and the vibrations only add to the stimulation that is driving me wild.
My hips try to buck, but he continues pinning me to the bed, forcing me to feel every incredible bit of what he’s doing. It’s been three years since someone other than myself worked me toward orgasm, so I’m not ashamed when I come like an unpracticed virgin within barely a few minutes.
My hands grip his hair, trying to push him back as my entire body shudders over and over.
He finally caves and starts kissing his way up my body, and my mind idly wonders why I couldn’t have slept on top of him sooner. We could have been doing this all along.
His tongue circles my nipple, and then he shows it a little more attention when he sucks it into that talented, relentless, giving mouth. I mumble something like praise, gripping his hair and forcing him closer as my legs come up around his hips.
I’m strong, but not strong enough to force his body down to mine. His cock teasingly brushes my thigh as he keeps our bodies separated, moving his blessed mouth to the other nipple to show it some attention.
“Never hide that mouth again,” I moan, causing a small chuckle to escape his lips.
His lips leave my nipple and find my lips again, and I kiss him hungrily, desperately, needing all of him.
His hand snakes between us, and my breath hitches as he lines us up in the best possible way and thrusts in. Considering how wet I am, it’s not hard for him to sink almost fully in me with that one thrust.
He breaks the kiss to groan, his body going tight, then thrusts again, pushing the rest of him inside me as he shudders.
“I just realized how long it’s been since I’ve been with anyone,” he murmurs through strain. “Very possibly longer than three years.”
I grin, actually loving that confession.
“Hence the reason you don’t have a supply of condoms on hand,” I say, though the words sound breathy and winded.
He kisses me again, withdrawing and thrusting back once more. His body feels so tight, and I know he’s struggling. I break the kiss, smiling as I tug his head back.
“I’ve had an orgasm. Stop worrying. We can have sex more than once,” I say with a smile, while he narrows his eyes in challenge.
“You can have another one with me.”
His hand slips between us, and my smile dies, making room for my lips to form an “o” as his thumb finds my clit and starts making lazy circles as he thrusts in again.
My hands go everywhere, trying to touch him, mark him, feel as much of him as possible, as he continues to set a rhythm that borders on mind-blowing.
It passes that border when my next orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave, hitting every nerve in my body as I cry out. He thrusts harder and harder, dragging out my orgasm in the best possible way as he puts both hands beside my head to leverage himself up.
I’m still rambling in some foreign language, when suddenly…an ominous creak, pop, and snap tries to warn us. But we’re both too wrapped up in each other to even react as the bed plummets, crashing into the floor.
Benson doesn’t even stop thrusting as the bed frame collapses around us, falling into the walls and thankfully not us. It actually turns me on more, especially when I watch his face.
It’s sweet agony that would have been hidden from me if we’d done this in the past when his face was a mystery. I’d never want to miss that expression, because it makes me feel powerful, entranced, and possibly intoxicated.
This man has an incredible “o” face.
His body shivers against mine as he stays at the deepest point inside of me, and he drops to me when his arms give out. I wind my arms around his neck, kissing the side of his cheek that I can reach, as he pants for air.
“You’re perfect,” he says softly.
“You too.”
I grin like a fool, and he kisses a spot on my neck near my ear.
I’ve had sex. I’ve had emotionless, hot sex. But never before have I felt anything like what I’m feeling now.
I was wrong to think I could live without something like this. Something real. Something worth more than a little fun.
And it’s worth everything that will follow. Hopefully.
“Benson!”
We both go stiff, and Benson lifts his head to stare down at me, still inside me, as horrified humor lights his eyes.
“Benson Nolans!” Killian calls again.
Then Hale adds, “Get your cherry-popping ass out here right now! It’s time to suffer.”