Kylie
I’m not the kind of woman men carry around, but I’m also not the type who makes people laugh, yet Ben acts like I’m hilarious. I should demand he put me down. The entire date has been over the top.
If this was how my mother felt with my father—no wonder she let him drag her down as far as he did. Like a drug, feeling young and sexy is addictive. Who doesn’t want—what had Ben promised he’d do to me—to be swept off their feet?
That doesn’t mean I can’t be smart about this. I’m here. The sex is great. Ben is fun. None of that is inherently dangerous as long as I keep it contained. One night. Or a short series of nights. I’ve been blunt with him about how I date. I’ll tell him again if he needs to hear it.
Just not now.
This is the sex I’ve denied myself—wild, free, fun. I can go back to sane and safe tomorrow morning.
Ben has to lower me to my feet to unlock the door of the cabin. It’s quaint, the roof a steep pitch, making it look like a triangle. He opens the door, flips a light on, and it’s as unique on the inside. Exposed beams and wide cedar planks running the length of the room make it feel rustic even though it’s immaculate with modern furnishings.
“This place is booked a year in advance but luckily he had a cancelation.” There are candles dotted along the large stone hearth. He put a lot of thought into this. I don’t believe for a second it happened by chance.
“Did some poor couple get kicked out of here tonight?”
“If they did”—he smirks and reaches for matches to light the fireplace—“they were wildly overcompensated for the inconvenience.”
An hour earlier I would have pounced on him on the rug before the fire, but the desire I feel now is a slower burn. I am competitive, I guess. I want to rock his world the way he did mine. I wander to the bathroom door and snap my fingers. A large old-style claw tub. Perfect.
Bubbles? I find them on the shelf beside the tub.
Candles? Check. I line them on the window sill behind the tub and light them. The glass is frosted, but I doubt it would have mattered if it weren’t. Hell, whoever was interested in watching already got a show. Tonight is about letting go and enjoying.
I plug the tub, run the water, and pour the scented bubble bath in. My hair has mostly come loose. I go to the mirror to fix it and gasp. I look—I look like someone who just rolled around in the grass. I pick grass and leaves out of my hair while studying my expression. I’m smiling—right up to my eyes. I barely recognize myself. Happy looks good on me.
I strip before the mirror, wondering as I do if my body will look as different as it feels. Everywhere Ben kissed, each inch he caressed, feels more alive than it has in a very long time.
Still dressed, he appears behind me. “A bath? I like the way you think.”
I turn in his arms and wrap my arms around his neck. “Who said you’re invited?”
He smiles as he kisses me then lifts me in his arms again. He walks to the tub and holds me over it. “What a kick to my ego. Now I’m not sure I’m strong enough to hold you.”
I cling tighter to him. “Don’t you dare drop me.”
He gives me a bullshit sad puppy look. “I’ll try.” He pretends to almost let me go. “If only there was some way to restore my confidence.”
“Enjoy this moment,” I warn playfully, “because when I’m back on my feet you’ll pay.”
He lowers me so my ass grazes the mountain of bubbles. “Feet? I was hoping knees.”
I lean back, scoop up some bubbles, and toss them at him. The clump slides down his arm. He lowers me to my feet in the water. “So, that’s how you want it?” He scoops up a huge pile of bubbles.
I raise my hands. “Ben—”
He makes a show of looking as if he’s trying to decide whether to put the bubbles on my head or throw them in my face. He sighs, the sides of his mouth twitching as he holds back a grin. Bastard. “It could have gone so differently.”
“Would you like to take a bath with me?” I ask with a laugh. He’s right, losing doesn’t feel bad at all with him.
I don’t have to ask twice. He’s out of his shoes and clothes in a flash and standing in the tub with me. I love that he takes a moment to study the situation before saying, “Come here.”
Normally, I’d say I don’t like being told what to do—by a man or anyone else, but this is Ben. I don’t feel like he wants power over me or to manipulate the situation. He wants more of what we had outside and so do I.
I sink to my knees and turn off the water. His huge cock is already hard and ready. I cup his balls in one hand and draw him toward my mouth.
“You’re important to me, Kylie. I want you to know—”
I take him deep into my mouth then pull back enough to swirl my tongue around the tip of his cock.
He buries his hands in my hair and fists them. It’s pleasantly harsh. He groans and says, “We can talk later.”