Alexis tried to slow her breathing, not wanting to scare Ben away with her heavy panting, as his body collapsed on top of her. He’d given her the most mind-blowing sex of her life. When she believed she was in love with Brandon and gave him her virginity in the back of his pickup, she thought that was sexual bliss.
Her few encounters with men she sort of dated in the past had been nice and satisfying at the time, but were nothing compared to how her body felt now. Limber and excitingly sore, tingly and…loved. Not in the romantic way, but appreciated and cared for.
The way Ben’s hands and mouth had moved over her body made her feel…worshiped. Appreciated. Like he truly enjoyed her body as much as she enjoyed having it touched by him.
Or he was faking it. He was a businessman, a salesman of sorts.
“You’re thinking about something.” Ben lifted his head, propping himself on his elbows, and looked down at her. His hair was a disheveled mess, making him appear more like a lover and less of the Italian businessman.
“I’m always thinking about something. Aren’t you?”
His lip quirked into a wicked grin and his eyes darkened. “Yeah.”
Alexis snorted. “We just had sex. You can’t be thinking about it again.”
He rotated his hips, showing her how much he was thinking about it. “I’m thinking about how long it will be before we can do this again.”
She thought about that too. Months? Years? Never. The three thousand miles that separated them would make it hard to have sex regularly.
“If you do that sitting pretty while I cook thing again I’m thinking ten minutes. If you can control yourself we may be able to make it through dinner.”
“Tonight?” He wanted to sleep with her again so soon?
“If you’re not hungry for dinner we can jump right to round two, but I may need a few more minutes to recoup.” Ben nibbled on her neck again.
No one had ever kissed her neck as much as Ben did. Heck, no one kissed her as often as Ben did. Even the few guys she’d dated in the past few years—Chip, Doug, Steve—seemed to be able to keep their hands and lips off her up until it was time to strip their clothes and have sex. It was more ritualistic than passion with those guys.
Her sister had accused her of being standoffish. Alexis disagreed with her. She was easy to get along with. She always had friends in high school. Hung out with the jocks, went sailing with the sailing club. As a teen she didn’t socialize to make gains with the guys; she was already in with them.
“Really?” Ben’s head popped up from her neck. “I’m losing my touch. Usually when I kiss you right here,” he lowered his mouth to the spot below her ear, “you’re putty in my hands.”
“I’m never putty.” She didn’t mean for it to come out so throaty.
But that spot.
His lips.
His tongue.
He was right, she was total putty.
“Mmm. Much better.” Ben continued holding his body above hers, kissing her gently until their breaths steadied to a normal rate.
His mouth was pure magic, sending rivers of lust through her body, stirring up urges deep down inside that had been dormant for a long, long time.
She stroked his sides, gliding her hands across his back until they reached his butt and gave it a squeeze.
“I guess dinner can wait.” He trailed his kisses to her breasts and she yelped when he nipped at her.
No, she needed to get back in control. Not that she’d been in control of any part of their lovemaking.
Sex. It was just sex. Alexis tweaked his sides and pushed him to the side.
“Dinner. We should have dinner.” She slid out of bed narrowly escaping Ben’s hands, and picked up a discarded shirt on the floor. It was already over her head and hanging to her knees when she realized the shirt wasn’t hers.
“I like.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. Tall, dark, and gorgeous lying against her white, crumpled sheets. Ebony hair pointing in every direction making him look more like a young, hip twenty year-old, a coating of scruff on his cheeks adding a layer of edginess to him, and a tanned chest, lightly sprinkled with dark hair, taunting her with need.
And those eyes. They stripped her naked and spoke promises of what he’d like to do to her, how he’d touch her. Again.
Alexis cleared her throat and turned toward her dresser, searching for a pair of sweats. Adding a bulky, unattractive barrier around her would help simmer her libido. She hoped.
The rustling of sheets behind her didn’t help. She pictured Ben in all his naked glory standing behind her, and then felt his warm body pressed to her back.
“If you’re wearing my shirt,” he said in her ear, followed by a nip on her lobe, “what am I supposed to wear?”
She hadn’t thought about that. Covering her body had been the pressing matter at hand. Ben tilted his hips into her back and she felt how hard-pressed he was as well. “Oh.”
“While my shirt has never looked better,” Ben said, his hands in her hair, pushing it to the side, “I prefer the look of it on the floor.”
He gripped the hem and slowly lifted it, his knuckles skimming her sides and stomach. Alexis didn’t want to succumb so easily, to fall for a man because of his sexual charisma. That wasn’t her. She didn’t fall for men because of their looks or wealth or sexual chemistry.
She preferred men who…
“You’re thinking again.”
“Not a bimbo, remember?” Alexis placed her hands over his and pushed them down.
“One minute you’re moaning, leaning into my groin, sending me signals that you want this as much as I do, and then it’s like a switch has gone off, shutting you down completely.”
Stepping back out of his reach, she punched her knuckles into her hips. “So you’re saying I’m cold in bed?” She’d heard that one before. Gary, the insurance salesman from Camden. If he hadn’t insisted on keeping his white knee socks and tank top on, and playing ABBA while having sex she may have loosened up a little.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied.”
Ben closed his eyes and rubbed his hands across his face, and Alexis couldn’t help but drop her gaze to his finely toned abs, and the part of him just south that had been happy to see her, yet was backing down inch by inch.
“Alexis,” he sighed.
“Benito.”
“Don’t do that.” He kept his focus on her eyes and she fought hard to do the same. “You only call me that when you’re mad at me. Tell me what I’ve done to turn you from sexual vixen to pissed off lover.”
“I’m a far cry from a sexual vixen.” As if. Her experience was limited, and never as passionate as it had been with Ben.
“I respectfully disagree.”
“It seems we disagree on a lot of things.”
“Not really. And definitely not on this.” Catching her by surprise, he grabbed hold of her shirt—his shirt—and tugged Alexis into him, dropping his mouth to hers and kissing her with urgency.
His naked body was too powerful to resist. This time, however, she’d be in control. Backing him up until his knees touched the bed, she broke the kiss and pushed against his chest until he fell backward.
“We disagree as to who should be in charge.” Climbing onto him, she placed both palms on his chest, leering down at his stunned face, her hair falling forward, brushing against his shoulders.
“Oh, sweetheart, I really enjoy arguing with you.” When he reached up to touch her face she smacked his hand away. Surprise evident in his face and his gasp.
“Keep your hands to yourself. This time it’s my turn.” She felt him grow hard under her and his eyes darkened with anticipation.
“As you wish.” If he continued to grin like the Big Bad Wolf she’d lose control faster than a summer hailstorm kills a crop.
His feet still resting on the floor, she dropped to her knees and started her exploration of his body.
“Like I said,” Ben huffed when he could finally talk, “my shirt looks better on the floor.” The woman damn near gave him a heart attack. He hadn’t expected Alexis to be up for another round of sex so quickly, and he sure as hell didn’t anticipate her taking the reigns, driving him completely mad with those gorgeous lips.
He’d promised their second time would be slower, sweeter, but Alexis threw those plans out the window when she insisted on being in control. Thank God she stopped when she did, moving her lips northward toward his chest, and finally his mouth, or he would have embarrassed himself with his lack of self-control.
There was a slight moment of awkwardness when Alexis asked about condoms. She didn’t have any in her bedside table. Either she ran out with the last guy or she wasn’t accustomed to having men over. Ben prayed for the latter, and sent another prayer that he had a second back-up condom in his wallet.
While he had hopes of taking her to bed, it wasn’t the only reason he made his impromptu trip to Maine. Protection wasn’t at the forefront of his mind like it should have been, and that scared the hell out of him.
He wasn’t careless with sex. Even though Felicia said she was on the pill, he’d used a condom anyway, and she still ended up pregnant.
Not something Ben wanted to think about while he had naked Alexis curled into his side.
Guilt washed over him. Again.
She had the right to know he would be a father in a few weeks. Yet, it wasn’t like he and Felicia were still together.
For as crazy and emotional as Felicia could be, she had taken the breakup really well. Maybe because she knew she was pregnant, trapping Ben in her life forever? No, he didn’t want to believe a woman he’d liked would do that to him. Besides, she didn’t seem too happy about the pregnancy, even threatening to terminate it, but Ben convinced her not to.
Fatherhood may not have been on his To-Do list, but he didn’t feel right about ending the pregnancy. Family meant everything to him. It wasn’t his child’s fault he—or she—wasn’t planned. No matter how much it altered his future plans, he wouldn’t harm an innocent child.
Still, the niggling guilt weighed heavily on him. He’d taken responsibility immediately, paying the medical bills, and even putting up a trust fund for his child. As far as the day-to-day responsibilities of raising a baby, he didn’t know how that would go. He didn’t want to think about it now. The cross-that-bridge-when-he-got-there mentality worked best in this situation.
Having a family of his own wasn’t on his radar. He enjoyed driving home on the weekends when he could, helping at the vineyard, and thrived off his long work days meeting with clients and coming up with marketing strategies.
Nowhere on his agenda had he included the wife, family, kids deal. He wasn’t opposed to it, but it wasn’t on his list.
Yet.
“And you say I think too much.” Alexis toyed with his chest hair and draped her knee over his leg.
This was nice. The after-cuddle. Not too intimate or needy. Just nice. Ben hugged her tighter into his body and kissed the top of her head.
“I’m going to say it again. We try this dinner thing again, but I’m not responsible if you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
She pinched his side. “You started it.”
“And you ended it. Very well, I might add.”
“You promised dinner,” she said, ignoring his compliment.
“And dinner you shall have.” He rolled on top of Alexis, gave her a lingering kiss, and then rolled one more time until his feet touched the floor. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to wear this.” He held up his black shirt. “But clothing is totally optional for you.”
“Thanks for the luxury of choice.”
“Always willing to compromise.”
He made his way to the kitchen, a smile on his face and a calmness in his heart. No, not heart. That would be too sappy. Too meaningful.
A calmness in his body, maybe.
His groin, for sure.
Ben lay awake, the darkness enveloping their joined bodies. After he wowed Alexis with an impromptu pasta dinner, they’d found their way back to her bed again, only taking it much, much slower, alternating the power of control.
It hadn’t mattered that third time, both reveling in the role of top and bottom, being in control and at one’s mercy. Now, hours later, Alexis’s gentle breathing lulled him almost to sleep. He still had too much on his mind to fully conk out.
He had a business meeting the following day and needed to make the early morning flight back home. When he was in San Francisco he loved it. The rush, his business, the people, the changing days. Yet he also found comfort in the monotony of the harvest at his family’s vineyard.
Not that they’d call it monotonous. Compared to harvesting in Maine it sure the hell was. They could count on a drought every year. A good soaking was nice, but they had irrigation systems set up as back up. The only thing that would destroy their crop was a wet season, and California hadn’t had one of those in decades.
His brother and sister kept busy with the vineyard, and would strangle Ben if he ever insinuated otherwise.
And while the two lives fit him perfectly—city and vineyard—there was something calming about the charming town of Crystal Cove, Maine. The state had never been on his radar before, and sure as hell not the sleepy town.
When he was here, though, he almost forgot about the stressors from home. He hadn’t thought of Felicia much during his first visit. Maybe it was the ass in him, a sign he was headed toward being a shitty father, or maybe it was Alexis.
He drew her backside in closer to him, his body curving around hers in spoon fashion. They fit together well when they weren’t fighting. Ben grinned and kissed the back of her head. They fought a lot. Butted heads. Challenged each other.
There was a secret key buried deep in Alexis that unlocked the mysteries to her heart. She pretended she didn’t want the romantic words or gestures, but he would bet his four hundred dollar bottle of Amabile del Cere Passito that she relished being treated like a lady.
He got the sense it didn’t happen a lot. The tough exterior, the simple, utilitarian bra and underwear, the loose clothing, was a way to ward men off. Granted, it was winter, and Maine, and she was a farmer. Wearing miniskirts and high heels wouldn’t go over so well in her line of work.
Still, every woman wanted to feel desired. He’d keep working on her, no matter how long it took. Holding her tight and inhaling her clean, earthy scent, Ben drifted off to sleep, dreaming of his next visit to see Alexis.