CHAPTER 6
“YOU’RE MARRIED?”
He looked like she’d punched him in the solar plexus. She supposed she sort of had.
Chloe shook her head. “I bolted.”
“Sorry?”
“I ran. He said ‘I do.’ I said ‘I can’t’ and took off back down the aisle.”
“Okay. Well, that’s pretty big. So you’re dealing with something pretty big right now.”
“Oh, it gets bigger,” she assured him. “He’s in there.”
“What?”
“Patrick. My ex. He’s in there.”
“Are you serious? Why?”
“He’s the son of my dad’s law partner. Our families are inextricably linked by binding contracts, forever and ever amen.”
“Why would he—”
“Come? Because etiquette dictates he should. The same reason he was invited in the first place.”
Ben shook his head. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re about to walk into this room with a pariah. People will stare and they will talk. And as my ‘boyfriend,’ you might not get out of this night unscathed.”
“You’re worried about me? Chloe, if ever there was a moment to think about yourself, this is it.”
She hadn’t even realized she was chewing at her thumbnail until Ben reached up and took her hand.
“Now c’mon. Let’s get this party started, Masterson.”
His support in this moment meant more than he realized. She tightened her grip on his hand, allowing herself to pretend, just for tonight, that Ben was actually more than a two-night-stand.
They were barely through the door when the onslaught began.
“Hey, Chloe!”
“Oh, hi. I didn’t know you were an usher.” She exchanged air kisses with the stocky, redheaded son of her father’s sister.
“Yep. I clean up pretty good, huh?”
“Ben, this is my cousin Keith. Keith, this is Ben. My boyfriend,” she added as an afterthought.
“Well, I knew he wasn’t your husband!” Keith laughed uproariously at his own joke.
But it was only the first salvo, a preview of what she’d have to endure all evening. Even though she’d been expecting it, it stung. The reassuring warmth of Ben’s hand reminded her she didn’t have to weather it alone. She managed a wan smile at her prick of a cousin.
“Come on, you two. Bride’s family is in the first row.” He looked up at Ben, then down at their clasped hands. “You’re gonna wanna hold on tight the closer we get to the front, isn’t that right, Chloe?”
Chloe was relieved to find that the second shot didn’t hurt as much. They followed Keith past a human-size vase of flowers and into the gorgeous, glass-walled room that would house her sister’s evening ceremony, with the city of Buffalo all lit up and blanketed in snow as a backdrop.
Everything was beautiful. Her mother would have made sure of that. From the shimmering blue ribbons on the chairs to the string quartet playing Pachelbel, Fiona Masterson’s style was stamped all over this wedding. Unfortunately, Chloe couldn’t appreciate the details, because from the moment they’d stepped foot in the aisle, the bride’s side of the room had erupted in whispers and covert glances, like a tsunami of gossip moving toward the front of the room.
Chloe’s steps stuttered.
She shouldn’t have come.
This was a huge mistake.
Ben gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze—which was incredibly sweet considering her skin had gone from zero to sweaty in two seconds flat.
Then he let go of her hand.
Her heart banged painfully against her ribs and her scalp prickled with sweat. The whispers around her swelled into a deafening roar. Startled at the betrayal, Chloe’s glance shot to his.
He winked at her and put his hands in his pockets.
And that small act of faith that she wasn’t going to run again, that she was strong enough to face the viper pit on her own, steeled her resolve. The roiling nausea that had overtaken her stomach calmed to a simmer.
Ben was right. She wasn’t the coddled twenty-year-old girl who’d been drowning in luxury and despair anymore. She was a twenty-six-year-old woman who was making it in the world on her own terms. Just as she’d always wanted. So she pulled her shoulders back and kept walking forward. On her own.
Ben slid into the seat beside her once they reached the front row. “That was intense. You did great, though.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Nah, you did all the hard stuff,” he assured her, glancing around the room. “So that’s the rift?” he asked. “The reason you don’t get along with your parents? Because you didn’t marry some Ivy Leaguer?”
Chloe glanced behind her at the reference to Patrick. She hadn’t noticed him during her long walk of shame. Of course, she hadn’t noticed much. It was all kind of a blur. If she wasn’t sitting at the front of the room with sweaty armpits right now, she might not actually believe she’d done it.
“That’s the reason I don’t get along with my mother. That and the tattoos,” she added. “I don’t get along with my father because I dropped out of law school.”
“What?” Ben’s cry of disbelief came out far too loudly for her peace of mind, and she felt all the attention in the room shift back in their direction. “Sorry,” he said, lowering his voice. “But what? You were going to be a lawyer?”
“According to my father I was.”
The music in the room grew louder, signifying things were about to get underway, and people’s eyes shifted toward the rear of the room where the mother of the bride was reveling in her walk down the aisle.
“Anything else I should know about you?” Ben whispered. “Have you ever killed a man just to watch him die?”
“Not yet. But if you talk during the ceremony and get me in trouble with the mother of the bride, I’d suggest you sleep with one eye open tonight.”
* * *
THE CEREMONY WAS BEAUTIFUL, even Chloe had to admit it.
Her sister was radiant—not because of the makeup, although it looked great, even from a few feet away—but because she had a kind of deep-down radiance that made Chloe believe that she and Dalton had found true love.
After the wedding, she and Ben took the elevator up to the penthouse atrium. Unfortunately, as the sister of the bride, Chloe was expected to be in a couple of family wedding photos.
They’d barely stepped in the room before her mother pounced. “Chloe, there you are! ”
“Mom.” Formal air kisses. “Dad, hi.” She hadn’t seen him in four years, but from what she could tell, not much had changed. He still wouldn’t look her in the eye. Ever since the awful evening when she’d sat beside him at the dinner table and told him that she would not be returning to law school, he’d developed a habit of looking everywhere but at her.
“Chloe.” Her name sounded stiff on his lips. “Good of you to come.”
She tamped down her disappointment as she and her father exchanged an awkward embrace.
He’d probably said the exact thing to every single person he’d greeted tonight. He didn’t even have the courtesy to make it sound sarcastic because of her late arrival in Buffalo—at least that would have personalized it a little. Then again, he probably didn’t even know she’d arrived late.
Desperate to keep the festivities light, her mother lunged into the fray. “Benjamin! How lovely to see you again.”
“Thank you, Fiona. The pleasure is all mine. You look lovely. And what a beautiful wedding. Chloe tells me you had a hand in the decorations.”
He was smooth, she’d give Ben that. Judging by her pleased preening, he’d just nailed second contact with the alien being that was her mother.
“Let me introduce you to my husband, Daryl Masterson. Senior partner with the law firm of Masterson, Grosvenor and McQuaid.”
“Ben Masterson, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Masterson, is it?” her father asked, shaking Ben’s hand.
“Really? No one mentioned that earlier.” Chloe winced at the look her mom shot her before she turned back to Ben. “Where are you from?”
“Born and raised in Seattle, ma’am. Fiona,” he corrected, and she smiled.
“I don’t believe we know any Mastersons from Seattle. Daryl, do we know any Mastersons from Seattle?”
“None are coming to mind.”
Ben smiled easily. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be acquainted with my grandparents. And my father was adopted.”
“How interesting. Isn’t that interesting, Daryl? And what is it you do for a living?”
“Advertising. I’m with Carson and McLeod.”
Her father nodded in approval. “Good firm, good firm. And what is it you do there?”
“Dad, seriously. Ben didn’t come here for a job interview.”
“I’m just checking that he’s employed.”
Ben placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She couldn’t help but be impressed at how gracefully he was dealing with the inquisition. “Actually sir, I’m being considered for account director.”
“A man who picks a career and follows through. I like it. Chloe could use more of that in her life.”
Chloe did her best not to roll her eyes.
The buzz of his cell phone stole Daryl Masterson’s attention, and he pulled it out of his breast pocket to glance at the caller ID. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” He threw a, “Nice meeting you, Tim,” over his shoulder as he stepped away from them.
“Don’t go too far, Daryl. This won’t take long and the photographer will be ready for us any minute!”
In reality, it was another half hour before the photographer was ready for them, and another hour after that before her mother finally dismissed Chloe from family wedding-picture hell. She grabbed Ben by the elbow and hauled him into the waiting elevator.
“Let’s get out of here before she changes her mind!”
He hit the button for the lobby, and Chloe was relieved to be speeding away from her mother, toward the food. “Thanks for being so patient. I didn’t think there were that many photo combinations for a family of four.”
“And you were smiling in almost all of them. So good job.”
“Hey, I can fake it with the best of them.”
“You’ll never have to fake it with me,” he said.
Chloe shot him a sideways glance. “Are we still talking about taking pictures?”
“Oh, I’m very open to the idea of taking pictures,” Ben assured her. Chloe was laughing as he grabbed her hand and they strode out of the elevator and toward the ballroom.
The room was a profusion of white flowers and fake icicles and baby-blue satin. Chloe supposed it looked like a magazine spread, but it was waaay too much for her. She might have a dramatic flair and heavy hand with the eye makeup, but if she ever got married, she was going to steer clear of spectacle.
“Wow. This is…a lot,” Ben said beside her as they walked under a bower of flowers.
“I’m just thinking of it as a magical land I have to walk through to get to the food.”
However Ben planned to respond, he was waylaid by the sudden appearance of a generously proportioned woman wearing a poufy yellow dress that made her look like Bo Peep’s jaundiced grandmother.
“Chloe, darling! You’re as lovely as your sister. I haven’t seen you since…” Her aunt trailed off as she realized exactly when they’d last seen each other. Four years ago on a night that hadn’t ended as happily as this one.
“Since my wedding day, Aunt Eileen.” The reminder still stung, but Chloe felt much more equipped to deal with the inevitable stares and whispers now that she’d conquered that solo walk down the aisle.
“I…I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I knew you’d come,” interjected Eileen’s husband as he trundled up to them. “I just didn’t think you’d stay ’til the end!” The portly man punctuated the joke with a wheezing guffaw.
“Hilarious, Uncle Phil.” Chloe leaned forward for the obligatory cheek kiss. “If you two will excuse us, I see people eating bacon-wrapped shrimp and I want to be one of them.” She grabbed Ben’s hand and tugged him farther into the ballroom, doing her best to avoid more prying relatives as they approached a white-suited waiter carrying a silver tray laden with champagne flutes.
“You do want a drink, right?” she asked, dropping his hand and snagging two glasses of bubbly. He accepted the one she held in his direction.
“I probably just lost one of the most lucrative contracts my agency’s ever bid on, and this is an open bar. You’re damn right I’m having a drink.”
Chloe stopped with her glass halfway to her lips. “Oh, my God! Ben! I’m such an ass! I was so caught up in my own drama I didn’t even ask how your meeting went.”
“It was less than stellar,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Burke was not buying into the Masterson charm. He’s old-school and he doesn’t seem to have much respect for Carson and McLeod. And he thinks I’m a child playing at a man’s job.”
Chloe was outraged. “He said that?”
“Not in so many words, but I’m fluent in subtext.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
“Nope.” Ben clinked his glass against hers before he brought the champagne to his lips and took an impressively long gulp.
Chloe mirrored his actions. Liquid courage always helped when she was dealing with her family and the looming threat of running into Patrick. She took another fortifying sip before she and Ben headed out in search of the bacon-wrapped shrimp.
When they arrived at table one, as per the seating chart, her parents were already there. Her father, much to no one’s surprise, was on his phone again.
“There you two are!” Her mother gave her a stern look when she saw Chloe’s fist-full of shrimp skewers.
“Take a seat! I wanted to finish the conversation we started before the wedding photos. How old did you say you were again, Benjamin?”
Ben held out Chloe’s chair before taking his seat beside Fiona.
“Thirty, ma’am.”
“Thirty. That’s very young to be up for such a big promotion. Chloe’s twenty-six and has yet to settle on a career path. It’s nice to see her with someone who’s so focused.”
Chloe’s mother flashed him a beaming smile that was usually reserved for the benefactors of her charities—and for sharks circling bleeding disaster victims treading water miles from shore. Chloe could feel a tiny drop of fear trickling along the back of her neck, heading for her spine.
Fiona Masterson was about to try and talk Ben into making a down payment on her eldest daughter. Upgrading from boyfriend to fiancé.
Chloe could not have been more relieved when the emcee just then took the stage to announce the arrival of the happy couple.
Amidst the applause and catcalls as Mr. and Mrs. Van Allen made their way toward the head table, Ben slung his arm across the back of her chair and leaned toward her. His breath was warm on her ear and, combined with the champagne bubbling in her empty stomach, made her feel a bit woozy in the best possible way.
“I have no idea what your problem is with your parents. They seem nice.”
Chloe laughed at the devilish glint in his eye. He was teasing her. “Of course they seem nice to you! They love you!”
Ben’s modest grin let her know she’d reacted appropriately to his bait. “Well, I do give good parent.”
“You sure do. My mom was practically swooning and my dad stayed off his phone for almost four minutes. That’s a new record, Tim. Which reminds me…not to brag or anything, but I totally nailed you.”
Ben cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, you did. And I liked it, so if you want to do it again later, I’m in.”
“Gross! No!” She punched him in the arm. “I meant I nailed your job. I guessed right on the plane. You’re in advertising.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Ugh. No law references around my parents, please.”
Ben leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.
She tried not to blush. “What was that for?”
He shrugged. “Because you’re doing great. And because I get it.”
“Get what?”
“I get why you didn’t want to come here. I think a hundred people have made the same joke at your expense by now. But they don’t understand that what you did took guts. The thought of quitting my job makes me nauseous, even though I occasionally feel like it’s stifling me. Like it’s not what I’m supposed to be doing.”
Chloe leaned forward and kissed him back.
“What was that for?”
“Because sometimes, Masterson, you’re really good at knowing exactly what to say.”
* * *
BY THE TIME they’d eaten, listened to lame wedding speeches, and witnessed every conceivable variation of fathers and brides, mothers and grooms, and bridesmaids and groomsmen sway together to sentimental pop drivel, Chloe was actually enjoying herself. Most everyone with a runaway-bride comment had delivered their joke, and people were finally focusing more on the party than on her past.
And Ben had been an amazing wingman, guiding her through the night with very little damage. Plus, he was pretty freakin’ cute. And so good in bed. Like, really, really good, she decided as she watched him fend off the advances of one of her cousins on his way back from the bathroom.
“Your cousin Amber says hi.” He folded himself into the chair beside her.
“Yeah, right.” She glanced over to where her cousin stood, her eyes still glued to Ben. Not that Chloe blamed her. Ben had loosened his tie and popped the top button on his shirt, so he was looking pretty damn sexy right now. Chloe raised a hand to her cousin and wiggled her fingers in a wave that earned her a glare before Amber stomped off to try her luck with some other target.
“Excuse me. Can I have your attention please?” Her sister’s fiancé, no, husband, Chloe reminded herself, had grabbed the DJ’s mic and a hush settled over the crowd. “Hey, everyone! Are you guys enjoying the party?”
Applause and catcalls answered the question.
“Before we hand this dance over to DJ Spinnicus,” more applause and catcalls from the younger attendees, “I wanted to take a second to tell my beautiful bride how much I love her, and how glad I am that our lovely mothers, who sit on the Children’s Hospital board together, set us up on that blind date, because I can’t imagine my life without her.”
Cue the obligatory romantic “awwwww” from the crowd.
“And I also want to wish her a very happy birthday! So to honor what has become a bit of a Masterson family tradition—”
“Oh no.” Chloe shook her head.
“—I thought you might all help me serenade the birthday girl on her wedding day. You know the words!”
“Nuh-uh. This can’t be happening.”
“What? What’s happening?” Ben asked.
A familiar riff filled the ballroom, and the wedding guests went crazy as the screen behind Dalton lit up with a slideshow of the happy couple, and everyone began singing along.
“No way!” Ben exclaimed, but she was already laughing at herself, at the situation, at the expression of incredulity on Ben’s face. “Is this why you hate the song?” He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re jealous of your sister? Pathetic, Masterson. I expected better of you.”
“You were never, ever supposed to know about this,” she gasped through her giggles. Her crying sister ran up onstage to kiss Dalton, who was manfully belting his way through the lyrics with no attention to whether he was in tune. Chloe would never admit it aloud, but it was all kind of sweet and romantic.
Ben drained his beer, and placed the bottle on the table with a thunk that she could hear even over the sing-a-long.
“Come on,” he said, standing and holding out his hand to her.
“Are we leaving?” she asked, wiping her eyes, hoping that her tears of laughter hadn’t tracked mascara down her cheeks. She grabbed his hand and he yanked her to her feet.
“Oh, hell no! We’re going to dance, Masterson.” She yelped as Ben twirled her, startling another peal of laughter from her before he tugged her onto the dance floor.
“You need to get over yourself and respect the man, nay, the legend, that is Neil Diamond,” he lectured, pulling her into his arms just in time to sing-shout “ba ba baaa” before spinning her away again.
By the time the song was over, not only had Chloe joined in for a couple of “ba ba baaas” and some “so goods,” but she had a new appreciation for Caroline—both the song and her sister. Neil Diamond, she decided, wasn’t half bad. And neither was Ben.
He leaned in but he still had to yell over the applause. “You want some water?”
“Yes, please!”
“I’ll meet you back at the table,” he said, heading through the throng of dancing guests toward the closest bar.
Chloe headed in the opposite direction, wiping her brow. She was having fun, she realized as she flopped into her chair.
“I thought you hated this song.”
The familiar voice was a punch in the gut, and her good mood soured a little. “Patrick.”
He plunked himself down in the chair beside her, Ben’s chair, and took a gulp of his beer.
“I see you brought a date.”
“Didn’t you?”
“It didn’t seem appropriate.”
She flinched at the censure in his words and the alcohol on his breath. “It’s been four years.”
“So? You think people have forgotten?”
Chloe shook her head. “No. I’m sure people haven’t forgotten. But they’ve moved on, for the most part. I guess I’d just hoped that maybe you’d forgiven me by now.”
“Forgiven you? For embarrassing me in front of my entire social circle? And now you’re here, dancing, making a spectacle of yourself. Do you understand how this looks to people?”
“I haven’t done anything wrong. We were twenty-two years old. Kids. We had no business getting married. We weren’t in love. You were just trying to get in good with my father. And so was I. I’m sorry that I hurt you, just like I’m sorry if you’re embarrassed to be here. But if it’s that bad, then maybe you shouldn’t have come.”
“Shouldn’t have come? You know that wasn’t an option.”
Chloe nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
She was sad for Patrick. He wasn’t the quick-to-smile kid she remembered. And she felt bad for her part in that, but she’d made the right decision, and she refused to regret it, despite the fallout.
Chloe reached for her wine, more for something to occupy her hands than because she really wanted any. Still, she was shocked when Patrick snatched the glass from her hand. “You’ve had enough.”
Chloe’s brain had barely reacted to the douchebag move when a bottle of water appeared on the table in front of her.
“Is there a problem here?”
“Yes.” Patrick stood and drew up to his full height. Ben still had four inches on him. “The problem is that my ex-fiancée is singing and dancing and making a fool of herself. People are starting to talk.”
“Well, I think you might be mistaken. From where I’m standing, it looks like my girlfriend is celebrating her sister’s big day, having a really good time without you, and people have been talking the entire night. If that’s a problem for you, feel free to leave.”
Patrick opened his mouth to say more, but even in his slightly inebriated state, his common sense kicked in. With a mumbled, “Whatever,” he slunk away, disappearing into the crowd.
A tingly sensation spread through Chloe’s body, like she had carbonation in her blood.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Ben asked, amber eyes wary.
“You fought for me. That’s pretty cool.”
Ben scoffed. “I didn’t fight for you. I had a conversation with a total dick for you.”
“Still pretty cool.”
Ben’s chuckle made her feel warm and throbby. “You want to get out of here?”
Chloe took a swig from the water bottle. “More than anything.”
* * *
THE TRIP UP to their room was a magical blur of stolen kisses and sweet relief. Chloe had survived her sister’s wedding, and she was in the mood to celebrate.
“You’re really sexy when you’re defending my honor, you know that, Ben Masterson of the Seattle Mastersons?”
She wound her arms around his neck, kissing his ear, his cheek, his neck, whatever she could reach, loving the pressure of his steadying arm around her waist.
Ben unlocked the door and pulled her inside. “I’m really sexy all the time,” he told her, stepping so close that she had to look up to see his eyes, even in her kick-ass shoes.
He cradled her face with his hands and Chloe’s breath shook as she exhaled. Heat rolled from his body, bewitching her senses. The feel of him, the sounds, the scent. No cologne, just warm skin. Simple. Manly. Intoxicating.
His thumbs brushed her cheeks, his fingers slid into her hair, and he lowered his head. The sweet thrill of his lips against hers paralyzed her. Ben’s kisses always seemed to knock the wind from her, make her gasp. She was helpless to move as her world narrowed to just their mingling breaths and the sweet pressure of his mouth as he started walking her farther into the room.
Then he spun her around and pressed her up against the wall. The paint was cool against her skin, and Ben was hard and warm as he molded himself to her back. The dichotomy was hot as hell. Especially when he started kissing her neck…
“Oh, God. Ben,” she breathed as his right hand grazed her breast, caressing it, setting her on fire. His hand continued its sensual journey down the front of her body, and she resented the dress she’d loved hours earlier, as it blocked her aching skin from the hand skimming over her stomach, her thigh, lower. Finally his warm palm reached her knee, and when he began the journey back up her leg, he slipped his hand underneath her dress. Now there was nothing but the erotic heat of skin against skin as his fingers tracked up to her inner thigh. It felt incredible, his hands on her like this. Chloe braced her palms against the wall, opening her legs, pushing her ass against his erection.
He groaned as he dug his fingers inside her panties, and she thought she might pass out from the pleasure.
“You’re so wet.”
She could only sigh in response as his finger invaded her.
* * *
BEN PLUNGED ANOTHER finger into her slick wetness, and her whimper of pleasure went straight to his groin. She started chanting his name, low and pleading, and he was sure he’d never experienced anything as erotic as this moment.
“I’m so close,” she whispered.
He could feel her on the precipice, wanted so badly to give her what she craved.
Ben dropped his other hand to her clit, rubbing her through the damp lace even as he sped the rhythm of his fingers inside her. Her knees buckled as she came and she gave a sweet cry of release.
She was panting as she turned in his arms, her hair disheveled, her breasts on the verge of escaping her dress. Her satisfied smile was so goddamned sexy.
“Come to bed with me.” He barely recognized his own voice, the words were rough.
Chloe’s grin was naughty. “I’m not sure I can walk,” she teased.
“I can work with that,” he said, scooping her over his shoulder in the fireman’s hold. Chloe’s scream of surprise became laughter as he hauled her toward the bed and gave her a slap on the ass before dropping her on the giant mattress.
He shucked his suit jacket and crawled onto the bed, but when he tried to take charge, Chloe wasn’t having any of it.
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head, a hand on his chest. “It’s my turn to explore,” she told him. And that was how he found himself flat on his back, staring up at a sexy vision as she reached for the zipper that ran down the side of her body. The sparkly gray dress began to gape as his temptress lowered the zipper inch by seductive inch.
Finally, the fabric fell open to reveal a strapless red lace push-up bra and a whole bunch of warm, willing Chloe.
Ben groaned as she pushed the dress down over her hips—the red lace panties were as sexy to look at as they’d been to touch—and finally the dress was gone and she was reaching for the buckle of one strappy studded high-heel.
“You said you’d leave the shoes on.” Ben wasn’t sure if it was an order or he was begging.
Chloe frowned playfully. “Hey, I thought I was in charge here.”
“You leave those shoes on and I’ll do anything you want.” Begging. Definitely begging.
Her smile signified the complete shift in power. “Well, how can I refuse an offer like that?” She crawled toward him, and her breasts looked so amazingly soft and perfect. Then she was straddling his hips and tugging off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, and he was lost.
She dropped kisses along his chest as she bared it, then his stomach. He tore his shirt the rest of the way off as she fumbled with his belt buckle, and he loved the look of concentration on her face. She was amazing. Sweet and edgy and sexy and real, all wrapped up in a cute little package that drove him wild. Then his belt came undone and he stopped thinking altogether.
She divested him of his shoes, his socks and finally his Calvin Kleins. Then she ran her hands up his thighs, and his breath stuttered with the pleasure. His hips flexed involuntarily as she drew ever nearer to the part of him that wanted her most. Ben didn’t know what he was expecting from that moment, but the sudden wet heat as she dragged her tongue the length of his shaft ripped a groan from his chest and he swore at the overwhelming sensation.
When she slipped him into her mouth, her fingers squeezing the base of his cock, the warm suction made his hips jerk.
“God. Chloe. I want to be inside you so bad.”
He reached down and dragged her up his body, kissing her as he rolled her onto her back. He paused to drink in the sight of her lying there in sexy red lingerie and do-me heels, wanting him. Thankfully he’d left his suitcase beside the bed, because he was half-mad with lust for her, and he wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer.
He had the condom on in record time, looking up from his task as Chloe popped the front clasp on her bra. Her breasts were beautiful, and he ached to feel them pressed against his chest as he took her.
He dragged her panties down her thighs, and she raised her knees so he could pull them past her shoes. And then there was nothing separating them. Ben positioned himself between her legs, staring into her eyes as he slid home into the slick, smooth heat of her.
His name was a gasp on her lips as they moved together, and Ben tried to take it slow, but her nails were digging into his back and she was meeting him thrust for thrust, and things got out of control before he knew it. She wrapped her leg around his hip a split second before she came apart in his arms, and the aftershocks of her orgasm started his own. He gave in to the sharp wave of ecstasy and let himself drown in it.
* * *
MORNING CAME TOO EARLY, as it always did, in Chloe’s opinion. Despite the early hour, Chloe found herself smiling as she indulged in a sleepy stretch. The reason for her good mood was slung out on his stomach, his arm nestled against the underside of her breasts, his stubbly chin resting on her shoulder and his lips close to her neck.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” he mumbled into her hair.
“The whole macho caveman thing? Carrying me off to bed and having your way with me? That was kinda hot, Masterson. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Yeah, right. Everything about me screams sex god. You knew what you were getting into.”
Chloe laughed as he pulled her closer, kissing her neck before levering his big body out of bed. Chloe enjoyed the view, especially when he turned and began rooting through his suitcase. Ben Masterson was in possession of one very fine ass.
She pushed up on one elbow, clutching the sheet to her breasts with her other hand. “Where are you going?” she asked with an overly dramatic moue.
“Shower. Why, you wanna join me?”
“Forget it.” Chloe flopped back into the lavish bed, stretching luxuriously. “I am on vacation, sort of, and when I’m on vacation, I don’t go anywhere until the glowing red numbers on that devil machine over there start with at least an eight.” She made a halfhearted gesture in the general vicinity of the alarm clock.
“C’mon, Chloe. Get up. Greet the day. You know what they say about early birds.”
“Whatever, drone. Tell the Man I said hi.” She snuggled deeper into the pillows.
“Fine,” he relented, closing his suitcase. He faced her, slinging his jeans and a white T-shirt over his shoulder. “You’ve got twenty minutes of peace while I shower and shave. But in return, you have to order room service.”
“Deal.” Chloe lifted a hand. “Pass me the menu?”
“Are you kidding me?” He reached behind him to grab the leather-bound menu from the ornate desk, lobbing it so it landed squarely on her stomach with a soft thwump. “Such a diva.”
“Not my fault.” Chloe picked up the menu and leafed through the gold-lettered pages. “Let’s put the blame on this king-size bed, where it belongs.”
Ben shook his head. “This bed is turning out to be more trouble than I expected.”
“The good stuff always is. No worms on the menu, Mr. Early Bird. You might have to settle for waffles.”
“Mmm. Syrupy.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips. As startled as Chloe was by the familiarity, she was even more startled that she didn’t mind. He was not what she’d expected from the corporate poster boy who’d struck up a conversation on the plane. She couldn’t help her grin as she watched him and his cute butt pad toward the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of tube socks.
The shower flipped on, and Chloe reclined on the mountain of pillows behind her, abandoning her menu-perusal duties now that Ben was gone. Instead, she nestled into the plush bedding and mentally relived some of last night’s more memorable moments.
By the time the water flipped off, she found that her dirty mind was sort of regretting turning down Ben’s offer for a tandem shower. She’d begun to formulate a plan to entice him into a second one when a knock at the door startled her back to reality.
“Who the hell?” she wondered with a glance at the clock. It seemed someone else was breaking her pre-eight in the morning rule.
Chloe was in the midst of wrapping a sheet around herself when the insistent knock sounded again. “Coming!” she called, but she was trapped on the bed for a moment until she located her abandoned stilettos. Shoving her feet into them, she hurried to the door as quickly as the unbuckled death traps would allow. “Coming,” she called again.
She wrenched the door open, shocked to find a distinguished man in a suit with a full head of white hair and a bushy white mustache. He looked equally surprised to see her standing there in nothing but a bunched-up sheet and last night’s heels.
Clearing his throat, he glanced at the girl beside him in the hallway. She was tall and thin, probably about fourteen, and her attention didn’t waver from her iPhone for even a second.
“I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, miss. I thought this was Ben Masterson’s room,” the gentleman said, making a move to leave, but as though his name had conjured the man, Ben pulled open the door to the bathroom, a white towel slung around his hips, and another draped around his shoulders as he rubbed one end over his wet hair.
“Is room service here already?” he asked, then froze as he spotted the man. Chloe noticed the kid had finally looked up from her phone. Not that she blamed her. Ben’s bare chest was a pretty powerful draw.
“Mr. Burke!”
Uh-oh. This was the hotel guy? The head honcho? Chloe realized, in retrospect, that smeared makeup, a bed sheet and stilettos might not have been the most inspired fashion choice for this moment.
“Mr. Masterson.” The address dripped with censure.
Chloe knew Ben was panicked because he stepped right out onto the carpet with bare feet, cellulitis be damned.
“Sir, I apologize for the towel. I wasn’t expecting you. I’d like you to meet Chloe…my wife.”