CHAPTER 15:
JUNIPER
Ben made me feel like a sex-crazed teenager. My mind tried to argue that these feelings belonged to the pregnancy hormones. But I had to disagree. It wasn't like some gorgeous stranger off the street could have ever held this much power over me. Only him.
Only. Him.
And I'd basically just begged him to get me off. Which had to be the most selfish thing considering I'd given him the black eye he now stared at me with. But the pure excitement and lust on his face told me he didn't care.
The second he found out I needed him, he flipped my body over so that I laid flat on my back. He hovered above me. His fingers pushed the material of my towel open, exposing every inch of my bare skin to him. My room basked in sunlight. There was no doubt. I was one-hundred percent on display for him, while he was fully dressed.
A chill ran over my body, my nipples prickling, as his glaze lingered. The ache between my legs became so intense, I wanted to scream. I loved the way he looked at me—like he couldn't take his eyes off me.
When Ben first came barging into the house, when I'd been in the shower, I'd been... taking care of business on my own. Or trying to. Lately, I'd been feeling a lot like a champagne bottle that had been shaken up, ready to explode at any moment. My earlier kiss with Ben had amplified that feeling. But when it came down to the nitty gritty, I'd been struggling to finish. My imagination sucked. Plus, Quinton had been super controlling about this sort of thing. I was not, under any circumstance, allowed to touch myself. And stupid Quinton's rules were all I could think about, the least sexy thing imaginable, as I tried to help myself out.
I'd been seconds away from finally finishing, despite having remaining thoughts of Quinton clouding my head, when I'd heard someone yell my name. Someone was in the house. I abandoned my struggles, cut the water to the shower, and stepped out onto the bath mat, soaking wet. I grabbed the heavy-ass toilet lid and waited. Ben barged into the bathroom, and I swung before looking. Good thing I wasn't that strong or it could have been so much worse. Still, I felt absolutely horrified that I'd hit him at all.
But now, in this moment, Ben didn't seem the least bit concerned about his head. Especially as he pushed my legs apart, settled onto his knees, and gripped the underside of my legs. He yanked my body a little further down the bed, bringing me closer to him.
My heart hammered inside my chest, thrilled at what was about to happen.
The suspense of where he might touch me first, and how, killed me. He took his time, possibly debating the very same thing, or possibly trying to torture me. Meanwhile I rested my hands above my head, waiting. He had free range to do literally whatever he wanted. I just wanted him to do something. At this point, I wasn't even opposed to sex. Really, I think the only thing sex could be with Ben was... wonderful.
I opened my mouth to tell him just that when he spoke first.
“Juniper, baby, anytime you need a truce, just ask.” He winked at the word truce. “I'll do whatever you want, whenever, wherever.”
He bent down and he pressed one quick kiss to the very spot that ached the most before he stared back up at me. His blue eyes hit me like daggers.
I sucked in a shocked breath.
“Okay?” he urged. “Even if I’m mad. I tend to be pretty stubborn and opinionated at times.”
I couldn't speak. I only nodded.
He shifted his weight. One of his hands moved and brushed feather-light over my skin, across my stomach and then up across each of my breasts. He continued tracing my skin, and I knew now that this was definitely his way of teasing. The small touches kept sending shivers all through me. “What do you want me to do?” he questioned.
I took a few small breaths. “Kiss me again.”
He smiled coyly. “Where?”
He knew freaking where. He wanted me to say it out loud. I wasn't going to say it. So, I decided I could play his games. I tapped on my lips.
He made a small grunt and moved to kiss my lips. A slow, soft, gentle press. Then another and another. After a minute, he pulled back to ask, “where else?”
I tapped my shoulder. That made him smile again. He gave my shoulder a little more attention than he had my mouth. Kissing. Licking. Then sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, he gazed up at me wanting his next location.
I brushed my fingers across my right breast and hardened nipple.
He obliged. And I gasped at the pure bliss I felt as his mouth immediately went to my nipple. His kisses were so soft and sweet. His breath was hot against my skin. This was too much. All the nerve-endings in my body screamed. We'd barely begun, but I couldn't play his game anymore.
I dug my fingers into his dark hair, tugging slightly to get his attention.
“Truce, or whatever,” I panted, my voice raspy as hell. “Kiss me. Please, Ben. Now.”
He gave me a small wink, so I knew he knew what I meant. That one wink made the muscles involuntary clinch down low. I was so close to climaxing already, so turned on by even the thought of his mouth on the spot that ached. I was wet and throbbing like mad, and I knew the moment his mouth touched me I would come against his lips.
He surprised the hell out of me though. Before going where I'd asked, he stopped on the way to gently kiss my small baby bump. I'd purposely skipped that spot on my road map south. Why draw attention, especially in this moment, to the fact that inside me was another man's growing child?
But Ben was just as gentle, if not more so, there. His kiss was soft. And it broke my heart. He kissed the bump as if it were his own child underneath. Then he moved on further down my body.
This small act left me in extreme and utter shock. My breaths grew shallow and short…for a whole new reason.
Then it happened. His open mouth pressed against the swollen and needy parts of me. Finally. His tongue licked slowly across my clit. He gave me exactly what I wanted, exactly what I'd practically begged for, but suddenly I was a little numb to feeling. His kiss to my belly had fucking thrown me. It made me realize then that I loved Ben.
I loved him.
More than I ever thought I loved Quinton.
More than I ever loved anyone or anything in my life, aside from maybe the growing love for the child inside me—and it terrified me. I hadn't expected to fall for him, so hard and so completely, so unexpectedly, especially since it hadn't been that long since he first came barging into the Davenport's house and into my life. But the love I felt...well, it also gave me hope. Hope that, because of Ben, everything would turn out okay in the end. It just had to. My heart wouldn't survive any other option.
The sensation of Ben's mouth against me came back into focus. At full force, too. I quickly pushed up on my elbows for a better view. I had to see him. The way he sucked, licked, and kissed felt so damn amazing. My own mouth fell open because, watching him work between my open legs, his blue eyes staring up at me, was the hottest thing I'd ever seen in my whole damn life.
He moved to press two fingers deep and wonderfully inside me, his tongue still playing against my clit, and I suddenly went off like an explosion. The cork on that metaphorical champagne bottle popped. I cried out his name and maybe a few swear words, my fingers fisting and tugging at his hair, as the feeling of pure bliss rocked through me. It was the strongest, most powerful orgasm I'd ever experienced. The wonderful tingling sensation rippled through every inch of my body. A spark of wildfire running me over.
Best. Feeling. Ever.
I came down slowly. The muscles inside me contracted in pulses around Ben's two fingers as he still, slowly, lazily, pumped in and out. His mouth wasn't on me any longer. Instead he watched me with a smile on his lips that told me he was enjoying the show.
I didn't care. I felt sexy and completely gooey inside.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
“Again,” he asked.
Despite the temptation to tell him one more time, I shook my head. “I need a moment to recover.”
He nodded, pressing one last kiss against me. Then he pulled away from me, moving my legs to the side, so that he could plop onto the air mattress next to me. His arms engulfed me and drew me in firmly against his body. He brushed my crazy-tangled, half-damp hair out of his way, and pressed his lips against my forehead. “I damn near exploded in my pants. Watching you come, feeling you come... fucking amazing,” he told me.
“It was amazing.” I could feel the hard bulge of his erection through his jeans, pressing into my hip. I'd return the favor in a moment. For a second, though, I needed him to keep holding me.
“That was my first time doing that, at least the oral part of that,” he revealed.
What? His admission shocked me. “I don't understand.” Maybe he was only twenty-one, less time in his life to gain experience, but Ben was too gorgeous to be innocent. He was also too charismatic, too outgoing, too athletic, too built, too... everything. A question popped into my head, and I couldn’t help it when it slipped out of my mouth. “Are you a virgin?” I whispered, totally ashamed now of the way I'd practically thrown myself at him.
“No.” He chuckled. But then added, “Would it matter if I was?”
“No. It just threw me for a second. That's all.”
He sighed. “I wish I was sometimes.”
Wait. What sort of guy wishes they were still a virgin?
Tightness squeezed my heart. Maybe there were plenty of women in this world who wished they could take back their virginities. I mean, I'd lost mine to some guy named Tony in the back of his van my junior year of high school. Talk about lame. But it was what it was. I grew from it. I learned from it. But I doubted many men out there would ever say something like he just had. I thought that, for most guys, losing it was a ‘rite of passage.’ Like an accomplishment. Did he have his own issues with sex, not completely unlike mine? I wanted to ask him more questions. I needed to know what he meant. But I wasn't sure what was safe to ask.
Instead, before I could say anything, he sat up and climbed out of bed. “I probably should get going and—”
Oh, hell no. I jumped out of bed, grabbing the sheet at the end of my air mattress with me. I clutched it backward against my body. He couldn't leave now. He just couldn't. If he wasn't comfortable talking about his past then I wouldn't force him. But he didn't get to make me come and then leave me naked the next minute.
“Your eye looks like shit,” I said bluntly, heat spreading over my skin. “Its black and blue. You might have a concussion. You need to lie down on my bed, or out on the couch if you'd prefer, and rest like Web MD told you to. I'll get dressed and get you some ice. You're not allowed to drive, either, remember? At least not for a couple hours.”
“I'm not allowed?” he questioned. A smile cracked on his lips for a brief second before he replaced it with sternness.
I swallowed, glaring up at him, holding my ground. “No. So... sit your fucking ass down, mister.”
His eyes widened. He took a step closer and stared down at me with the full force of his height. “And what if I don't listen? What are you going to do?” Hooking a finger over the edge of my sheet, he pushed the material down. It fell to the floor, leaving me stark naked once more. “I don't have a concussion, Juniper,” he whispered, his tone changing for a moment, almost like a brief timeout. “Trust me, I know. I had a concussion in football once. And I'm okay now. Although ice would probably be good for the swelling.”
“Want me to go get you some ice?”
“No.” He exhaled. “I want you to lie back down on the air mattress.” He nodded toward it. “I want you to spread your legs, and I want to taste you again. I want to feel you come. I need to feel it one more time.” He grabbed the edge of his shirt and yanked it over his head in one quick motion. Buzzing from those direct and sinfully hot words of his, I took in the sight of his bare chest. Muscular, lean, perfection. Most surprising, he had a large, detailed compass tattoo on his left pectoral muscle. Over the top of his heart, I realized. The compass pointed west.
Damn. I'd expected Ben to look good underneath his clothes, but I hadn't expected him to be this gorgeous. I bit down hard on my lip, just to keep myself from gasping at the sight of him. My legs went wobbly. I did as he’d asked, taking a step backward, and sat down. I stared up at him, desperately waiting for him to come join me.
“I was a cocky, arrogant bastard when I was younger,” he said, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. “That’s the reason you’re the first and only girl I’ve tasted. It wasn’t because there weren’t plenty of opportunities. It was because I refused to go down on my high school girlfriend. Or any of the random hookups that followed my breakup with her.” He let his jeans fall to the floor as he kept talking. He kicked off his shoes along with his pants. He now stood only in his boxer briefs. “If a girl wasn’t ‘sucking or fucking’ then I wasn’t about to waste my time with her.”
I gulped. He was nothing like the person he described. “What changed?”
“Everything. The Ben Turner the rest of the world knew died the night I fell overboard and nearly drowned. But honestly, he was gone long before that. I stopped being what everyone else expected me to be, and I started being me. I haven’t had sex in over two years. I wish I could take back everything prior to that. Or mostly, everything with Sonya Fletcher back.” He seemed riddled with regret. “It’s different with you, though. I like that you don’t know the old me. I want to keep you away from the old me.”
With those last words, he pushed down his boxer briefs. His erection sprang free proudly.
My jaw dropped.
I was not worthy.
A mere mortal.