Lace and Paint (True Colors Book 1) by Ally Sky (17)

It’s already Friday. I’ve been thinking about this response since I read it on Tuesday. What about the things he likes to do? I know so little about him. The “dates” I’d arranged for him at the Hawksmoor, and then, afterwards, at the Archangel, made it clear to me that Ben doesn’t want me meddling in his business. And I don’t want to do anything that will rock this little boat we’re in.

My thoughts keep going in loops, and the past few nights have been literally sleepless. My body is letting me know—in almost every possible way—that what I’m doing is taking me high, much higher than I should be. When I finally do fall asleep, horrible dreams creep in and I jerk awake in fright, rushing down to the basement in a failed attempt to eliminate them. The past is haunting me, hurting me, and reminding me why I ran away. I paint for hours, longing for my man, who is busy with work, and hasn’t hugged me since Sunday at the park.

And now this response. What about the things he likes to do?

I can’t imagine what will happen when he gets the tickets. The entire week, I ran around the galleries, smiling and handing out business cards. Who would’ve believed one painting on one of the walls could’ve given me such a good idea. I can only hope the implementation of it will be just as good. And it all depends on him, if he decides to show up. I miss him all the time.

Last night I slipped the invitation under his front door, hoping he would find it in the morning.

It’s not Lady Islington. Fancy clothes won’t be necessary.

But I’ll wait for you there…

I included a round-trip train ticket.

I don’t even know if he’s made any other plans for the weekend. After all, it’s only for one night.

An afternoon breeze is blowing. I’m standing outside the Kent train station, my eyes searching for him.

My hair is wild and my curls are flying in the wind. I left it down on purpose. Ben loves my curls. And if he arrives, if he gets off the train, I want to be waiting for him, wild and mischievous, just as he likes.

I hear the train pulling into the station. I’m not breathing. People are starting to leave the station and I’m looking for the familiar broad shoulders, the gorgeous smile, and my most favorite eyes in the whole world.

Will he come?

We hardly spoke this past week. Ben was so busy that, apart from some brief messages, he hardly replied to me at all. Danny also stayed in the office until late, so I understood I shouldn’t disturb them. I didn’t want to anger him and mess up the chances of spending the night with him.

And then I see him coming out of the station. He’s wearing black jeans, a white T-shirt, and a brown sports jacket. His eyes are searching for me. My heart leaps with joy. Excitement replaces the anxiety I was feeling. He came all the way, in the train, with the ticket I slipped under his door.

I have a huge smile on my face but I’m trying to stay calm. What I really want to do is to run to him and jump into his arms and kiss him. But I remain where I am. My man walks toward me slowly, he’s holding his black sports bag in his hand, and when he reaches me, he places it on the floor and his smile widens.

“Hi.” I can’t take the stupid smile off my face.

“Hi, beautiful.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” I murmur awkwardly.

“My curiosity got the better of me,” he replies cheekily.

“Oh…” I manage to say. His curiosity—and what about me? Didn’t he want to see me? “So let’s go and satisfy your curiosity.”

I start walking, but a strong hand grabs me and pulls me toward him. Before I can react, his lips are on mine, his tongue is in my mouth, kissing me passionately, and my body responds immediately. I put my arms around him and stroke his hair. I can smell his aftershave and familiar tingles run through my legs.

“I’ve missed your taste.” He takes a deep breath and bites down on my lip. “You smell amazing.”

He knows what to say. He knows exactly what words to choose.

“You’ve been busy,” I whisper in between his kisses.

“Yes,” his voice is low, quiet.

“I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.” He pulls away from me and bends down to pick up his bag. “What have you got planned for us?”

I lead the way. It’s not far, just a ten-minute walk. The narrow path leads us away from the station and into the green fields. The wind is blowing and my curls are going crazy.

“Your hair has a life of its own.” He laughs aloud.

“Yes.” I smile in return, resisting the urge to pin it up.

“Where are we?”

“In a meadow…” I don’t give away any more details. Ben grabs my hand and holds it tight, and wonderful chills go up my arm and tickle my stomach. I can’t wait. I just want to get out of these clothes and feel him already, feel his exposed skin and stroke him for hours.

We’re walking down the path and there are no other people around. There’s just the tall grass and green cornfields.

At the far end of the field stands a big caravan. I lead him to it with a smile.

“You said you love being in nature…” I can see the look of amazement on his face.

“Are you serious?”

“What were you expecting—a small boutique hotel?” I laugh aloud.

“The truth is I never know what to expect from you.”

“Forgive me it’s not a double tent in the woods. There’s a limit to the level of comfort I’m prepared to compromise on.” I climb the steps, open the small door, and go inside.

The caravan I chose is well equipped and accessorized. It has a large bed, a bathroom with a small shower, and a tiny kitchenette. I turn the light on. Ben comes in right after me and throws his bag next to the door.

Bill made sure to place us far away from anyone. And we’re alone in nature.

“What do you think?” I ask apprehensively. Maybe he thinks the whole idea is terrible. Maybe I was completely off the mark.

“Talia…” He comes to me and my heart races. His hands go to my waist and pull me in. I let out a cry of surprise. His face is so close, I can feel his breath. “It’s perfect.”

He looks into my eyes and kisses me hard, biting my lower lip. It’s been a week already and my body aches for him. He doesn’t have to say a thing. His kiss says it all. He’s missed me as well.

I lift my dress and tug it over my head, baring my breasts to him. He grabs his T-shirt and pulls it off in one go and my hands instantly go to his skin, sliding over his back, exploring the smooth expanse beneath my fingertips. He picks me up and carries me to the bed lying me down on the pillows. I watch mesmerized as he opens the buttons of his pants, and kicks off his shoes without taking his eyes off me. My tongue tingles and my pulse races as his pants fall to the ground and he gets into bed in his boxer shorts, pulling me in tight and stealing my breath with a kiss.

“Where do you get all your ideas from?” he asks with a smile and I swallow. There’s no way I’m telling him. My blog is full of ideas, and my readers get full updates about their implementation.

“I’m a creative girl, you know,” I answer.

And when I’m not creative enough, there are plenty of people who think for me…

He runs his fingers in my wild hair and pulls my head back.

“I love your curls.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to talk anymore. It’s been too long and I want you.”

“So, a weekend in the village?” he asks as we lie in bed.

“One night. I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“I wasn’t sure either,” he replies with a huge grin. “I did have other plans.” My eyes open in surprise. He had plans? But here he is…

“Oh…” I swallow. “What happened to them?”

“I cancelled them,” he answers contentedly. “Okay, seeing as you’re in charge of this production, what’s next?”

“A picnic,” I reply cheerfully.

“Sounds great.” He sits up on the queen-size bed. “I love your surprises.”

He loves my surprises. Even without the double tent. I sit up and look for my clothes, strewn all over the floor.

“It’s about time you remembered to dress warmly.” He looks at the sweater I remembered to put on. I miss the heavy heat, which I’ve always loved. Since arriving here, I’m starting to get used to the idea I may never feel hot again.

We walk away from the caravan and Ben carries the picnic basket I filled with a blanket, bread, cheese, red wine, and a Harry Potter book, before he arrived.

We find ourselves a level spot on the grass and I spread the blanket as Ben removes his shoes and sits down.

“Aren’t you a camping kind of girl?” He looks at me with curious, green eyes.

“I think I had my fair share of sleeping in tents in the army,” I chuckle.

He’s taken aback. “You were in the army?” What’s obvious to me isn’t obvious to him at all.

“Everyone goes to the army. It’s mandatory service,” I reply. I sit down on the blanket next to him and take off my shoes. I take the red wine out of the basket and pass the bottle and corkscrew to Ben, who opens it easily.

“What did you do in the army?” He seems to be amused by the idea.

“I was a shooting instructor,” I answer.

“Really?” He doesn’t try to hide the amazement in his voice.

“Yes.”

“What, rifles and stuff?”

“Rifles and stuff,” I repeat amused. “You know, M16, machine guns, no big deal.”

“No big deal? I think I’d better remember that piece of information.” He grins. “I’m surprised someone even recruited you.”

“Why do you say that?” His statement surprises me.

“Come on, Talia.” He pours me a glass of wine and hands it to me. I take it without taking my eyes off him. “You’re so small and delicate.”

“I’m not so delicate.” I roll my eyes. “But luckily I brought food. You’ll get a chance to feed me.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” He grins at me.

He thinks I’m thin. But I don’t know if he likes it or not. Maybe he thinks I’m too thin? Well, it hasn’t worried him until now. I take out the rolls and the cheese, and Ben raises his glass.

“To your surprises, beautiful,” he says, happily.

“I have a few more up my sleeve.” I giggle, as I raise my glass and take a small sip.

And now, food.

Ben is delighted to see a copy of Harry Potter in the basket.

He puts his head on my thigh, closes his eyes, and looks so peaceful. My fingers caress his hair as I read to him about magicians and witches, and a smile appears on his gorgeous face. I manage to read two chapters before he decides it’s too cold. When we get back to the caravan, I take out the wine, put it on the table, and pour us each a glass. We lay on the double bed and I tell Ben all about my week, about the hours of painting in the basement and writing my blog.

“Can you see that you need to make some time for yourself?” I smile at him warmly as he plays with my curls.

“Luckily, I can count on you and your mischievous head to organize it for me,” he agrees, still playing with my hair. “How did you manage to set up this entire thing?”

“It’s not so difficult nowadays with the internet,” I answer without giving away too many details. It really wasn’t so complicated. There isn’t a thing that can’t be organized with an available credit card. It took me exactly one hour of research to find the place, and Bill and his wife sounded lovely. The deal clincher was that the train station was within walking distance.

“So you weren’t sure I’d come?” he asks jokingly.

“I didn’t know what to think,” I answer truthfully. “You were so busy this week. What were your plans for the weekend before you boarded the train?”

“Work.”

“Really?” I roll my eyes. “On the weekend?”

“Yes, there’re a lot of projects that need my attention.”

“So why did you come?” I can’t hide the quiver in my voice. I know what I want to hear. I know how much I missed him and I want to know if he, boyfriend or not, missed me as well. “Was it pure curiosity?”

“I worked the entire week and I decided I could take a break to recharge my batteries.”

Not the answer I was looking for. Recharging batteries.

“And the thought of recharging them with you…” he concedes. Now he’s talking. “I haven’t seen you since Sunday and I missed your taste.”

My taste. That’s the most honest statement he’s capable of making. He’s unable to say he missed me, but I’ll make do with that. I’ll make do with any statement of longing from him.

“But, I must apologize because I did bring my laptop and I’m going to have to steal a few minutes to work.”

“Now?” I’m disappointed.

“No, beautiful.” He raises an eyebrow and grins. “Now I want to be inside you.”

I peek into my boss’ office. Yoram’s a nice man, about fifty years old. He was nice enough to give me this job, even though I didn’t have any office experience.

“It’s just typing documents. I’m sure you’ll manage,” he’d said to me.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” I apologize. “I just wanted to tell you I’m leaving early.” My voice is low as I murmur self-consciously.

I don’t feel well. I woke up with a terrible headache and felt faint and dizzy. But it’s the end of the month and I had to get to the office, even for just a few hours, to help out with the paperwork. I’ve taken two pills, hoping they would take effect quickly. But I’ve barely survived the last few hours.

I know it’s shitty I’m leaving early, particularly today. I did as much as I could, but I can’t stand the pain in my head any longer.

He looks up from his desk with concern. “Talia, you are very pale.” I look at him while the hammering continues in my head.

“I’m fine. I’ll just go home.”

“How are you getting there?” He gives me a concerned, fatherly look.

“By bus.”

“Absolutely not. I’ll ask Eitan to take you.”

My heart freezes. What? No, no, no, anyone but Eitan. I’ve managed to avoid his awful, daily visits, and now Yoram wants him to take me home, unaware of what happens behind closed doors. My heart starts to pound.

“Yoram, there’s really no need. I can take the bus.” I’m staring at him in panic. I can’t even feel the hammering in my head anymore, only my stomach clenching painfully.

“Don’t be silly.” He picks up the phone and starts dialing.

I must stop him! I have to say something!

“Eitan…everything is alright. Talia needs a ride home…” I can hear Yoram’s concerned voice and can just imagine the smile on the face of that awful man at the other end of the line. “No problem. Five minutes.”

“Yoram.” I make another desperate attempt to save myself from the terrible situation I’m about to get into. “I really don’t need a ride.”

“All set, sweetheart. Eitan will be waiting outside in the car in another five minutes. Feel better.” He looks at me, wondering if I need anything else from him. I can’t say a thing. I’ve taken up enough of his time. It’s not his fault; he’s just worried about me. And now I have to deal with that menacing man in the car. Luckily it’s only a short trip, just a few minutes.

“See you tomorrow,” I stammer hysterically. I close the door behind me and make my way down the long corridor. I zip my coat all the way up. Maybe that’ll stop him. Maybe I’ll manage to get through the few minutes in the car without feeling his burning hands on my body. I go outside and can see Eitan’s car parked on the road opposite, waiting for me to fall straight into his trap.

Run! Go to the bus stop!

No one knows what this man does to me. I open the car door slowly and get into the passenger seat. I stare straight ahead through the window. My eyes are on the road and my heart is racing. I fasten my seatbelt and hold my bag tightly to my chest.

“I hear you’re not feeling well.” His awful voice is trying to be nice and charming, but I know him. He’s anything but nice.

“I just want to get home,” I say quietly without looking at him. Our eyes must not meet. Eitan puts his foot on the accelerator and joins the traffic on the main road.

I’m paralyzed. The seatbelt is securing me to the seat. I have nowhere to run, even if I want to. Just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes and I’ll escape this car.

I don’t say a word. We’re driving down the road and my body is completely tense. Let’s just get there!

I can feel my heart pounding while I clutch my bag, trying to hide my shaking hands.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Eitan breaks the silence. His tone gives me the chills and his words make my stomach clench. “Where are you hurting?”

Where am I hurting? All over! My whole body hurts from all this tension, from this situation I’ve gotten myself into—being trapped in the car with him.

“Well?” A slight movement of his hand causes me to glance in his direction. His left hand is still on the wheel. But his right hand is creeping slowly toward me. “Your job is coming to an end soon. Aren’t we going to go out to celebrate you going to the army?”

Is he kidding me?

I pull my bag even closer to my chest. Each breath is becoming harder and harder to take.

He doesn’t take his eyes off the road but his hand finds my thigh and moves slowly over my jeans.

What the hell? What is he doing? This isn’t happening to me! My eyes are darting around. I can see my house at the end of the narrow road.

His hand, brave and confident, slithers between my thighs, squeezes them, and climbs up, slowly, toward where my legs meet…

“No!” I hear a scream.

And then I realize. It’s my voice. It’s my scream.

He slams on the brakes suddenly and the car comes to an abrupt halt, throwing me forwards and backwards.

“What the hell are you doing?” I yell, fumbling with the buckle of the seatbelt, releasing it. I open the door and rush out hysterically.

What just happened?

I run home, open the front door, and slam it closed behind me. I’m shaking all over. I rush to the bathroom, bend over the white toilet bowl, and puke my guts out.

“Talia!” A pair of wide, green eyes stare at me. I’m panting heavily. Where am I? A quick look around—and then I remember. My dreams don’t care that I’m in a caravan, in the middle of nowhere. They find me. “What happened?”

“Just a dream,” I whisper, trying to catch my breath.

“Jesus, Talia. You were screaming.” He looks appalled. “What were you dreaming about?”

I can’t believe I screamed. Now he wants to know what I’ve never told anyone—another sensational discovery about fucked-up Talia.

“It’s nothing,” I avoid answering and sit up, picking my clothes up off the floor. His gaze follows me. “I need a cigarette.”

I’m sitting on the steps of the caravan, inhaling deeply. We fell asleep and it’s eight in the evening. The door opens behind me and Ben sits next to me on the step.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” he pleads.

“Why do you need all this?” I’m feeling hysterical. I know him and his ability to get me to spill everything.

“Talia, it was frightening,” he says anxiously.

“You know I was hurt. It was just a dream.”

“About a guy?” His voice is soft, but far from calm.

“Yes.” I squirm.

“Your boyfriend?”

“God, no,” I shake my head. “Someone who I used to work with before I joined the army.”

“Before the army?” He sounds astounded. “How old were you?”

His green eyes are staring at me in disbelief.

“Eighteen…”

“And him?”

“Older, about forty,” I whisper, starting to feel nauseous. This is the first time I’ve ever talked about it.

“Son of a bitch.” Ben’s eyes are ablaze. The look on his face paralyzes me. “What did he do?”

I swallow. “It’s not what you think.”

“I don’t know what I think. What did he do?” He turns to me, his eyes enraged, and I have difficulty breathing. Why does it matter to him?

“He would touch me, in the office. No one knew. No one knows.” My voice breaks.

“Is that what you dreamed about?”

“About the last time I saw him. He took me home in his car and his hand…”

“And his hand?” He’s furious.

“And his hand went between my legs,” I whisper almost inaudibly. I’m shaking, and it’s not from the cold.

“Son of a bitch…what do you mean nobody knows?” He’s fuming.

“I couldn’t tell. No one would’ve believed me.” I’m trying to stifle the tears threatening to break through. “It would’ve been his word against mine.”

“So you never said a thing to anyone?”

I recoil in pain. He’s so mad. And for one moment I’m not sure whether he’s mad at me—for staying silent, or for never saying anything.

“He was married, with small children, and I was the black sheep. There was no point.” My effort to stop the tears fails and a big teardrop falls down onto my cheek, reaching my mouth. I quickly wipe it away and take another puff of my cigarette.

“I’m such a fuckup…”

“You don’t give yourself credit for anything,” he says wearily and I turn my shattered gaze to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Look at how much stuff you deal with, and the only things you see are your failures.” He shakes his head slightly.

“What am I supposed to see?”

“That you’ve gone through so many things and you never gave up.” His voice is soft as he turns to me.

“Gave up on what?” I’m puzzled at the direction the conversation is taking.

“On yourself, on who you are, on who you want to be.” He keeps his eyes on me.

“You’re so wrong. I let everything break me.”

“That is so not true.” He gets upset with me again. “You’re not broken. You tell yourself stories. You’re much stronger than you think.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head.

“Damn it, Talia, your self-deprecation is exhausting,” he sighs despairingly.

“Do I exhaust you?”

“I just can’t understand why it’s so difficult for you to see how wonderful you are.”

I’m wonderful? Did he really just say that? After he heard how damaged and broken I am?

“Please, don’t say that,” I plead. Don’t say words that only confuse me.

He looks baffled. “Why?”

“Because you don’t mean it.”

“What?” He’s stunned. He doesn’t have to pretend. We both know what he wants from me.

“You know why I say that.”

“Because I don’t want to be your boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“What does that have to do with it?” To my surprise, he sounds insulted. “Can’t I think that you’re wonderful? You know it has nothing to do with you.”

“I don’t know anything.” I’m confused. “You’re the one who won’t talk to me.”

He’s exhausted. “Talia…”

“What?” My voice doesn’t hide how confused and hurt I am by his inability to talk to me.

“What do you want to know? I was in a relationship and it ended terribly. I don’t want a girlfriend. I don’t want all that commitment and heartache and all that it demands from me,” he says softly. His voice sounds distant, and it’s clear to me that his thoughts have wandered to a bad place.

“You don’t want to commit because you want to see other girls?” I ask, slightly afraid. Is that it? He gives me a stern look. My throat chokes up.

“Talia, I don’t want anyone else.”

He doesn’t?

“Really?” I’m caught off guard. My tone of voice makes him smile.

“Yes.” He looks at me. “I’m happy with you, like this, when you manage to avoid all your dramas. And I think you’re wonderful and beautiful and smart, and I love talking to you, and I love sleeping with you, and I love listening to you. Please, don’t think of yourself as being fucked up or damaged or any of the things I keep hearing from you. Please try and see yourself as I see you.”

I stare at him, hypnotized. “You’re lovely.”

“So are you. Now put out your cigarette and come inside. We have rolls left over from the picnic and I’m hungry.”

I nod and whisper suggestively, “Me too.”

We both know what I’m talking about.

“Talia,” he says, still concerned. “Your dream.”

“It was just a dream. Now take me inside and make me forget about it.”

“I’m glad you told me about your dream yesterday.” Ben is relaxed as I dry myself off after my morning shower.

“You have the amazing ability of getting me to spill all my secrets. You should consider a career change. An interrogator for the Secret Service sounds appropriate.” I laugh.

“So what are we eating for breakfast?” He stretches out in bed and I examine his muscular chest and the V of his lower abdominal muscles.

“Hello!” He laughs. “Breakfast?” I blush and grin, like a kid who’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Well, there’s a lovely grocery shop here. They grow almost everything themselves. We’re going shopping.”

“After breakfast I have to work a bit, beautiful.” He sits up and searches for his underpants on the floor.

“If you insist.” I smile at him. As far as I’m concerned, he can sit in front of me all day long with his laptop and let me just look at him.

“What time is our train?” He gets up and pulls his pants on.

“Four o’clock,” I answer hesitantly. Let this day go by slowly. If I could, I would stop time.

“Okay, let’s go shopping.” He puts his shirt on and slides his feet into his Adidas.

The small shop is lovely. The sun, which accompanied us the whole way, warms me, and I’m so happy. We buy fresh bread, vegetables, and eggs, and Bill is pleased to hear we’re enjoying our stay. I remember to thank him for placing us in a remote corner, just as I’d requested.

Back in the caravan, I make omelets. Ben spreads a thin blanket outside and then pours us some freshly squeezed orange juice. I slice some vegetables and take the food out to eat in the sun, sitting down next to him.

“How did you sleep last night?” He bites into the fresh bread and looks at me, concerned.

“Good.” I cut a small piece of my roll and chew it slowly. It’s ten in the morning. Who can even eat at this hour? But I have no intention of ruining the day with my issues.

“You didn’t have any more dreams?”

“No,” I answer honestly. That dream was more than enough.

“I still can’t believe you never told anyone about it.” He’s insistent.

“I told you, they wouldn’t have believed me.”

“Danny would’ve.” He looks at me.

“Danny has spent half of his life worrying about me. He didn’t need that on his conscience as well,” I reply. I had no intention of bothering Danny with my troubles any more than I already had.

“Do you have any other dreams you’d like to share with me?” he asks seriously. He continues to watch me as I chew my bread.

“Not really.” I feel awkward. My dreams are the last thing I want to think about now.

“No, there are no more dreams, or no, I don’t want to tell you?” he insists.

“The latter,” I answer. Ben and his interrogations!

“Okay, then we may have to stay here another night so I can find out by myself.” He gives me a teasing look, taking my breath away.

“Our train is at four,” I stammer. I’m not sure if he’s being serious or not. Another night? I wasn’t even sure he’d come at all. His sentence gives me hope.

“I’m sure there are trains tomorrow as well.” He grins broadly. “Don’t you want to stay?”

Don’t I want to stay? I’m willing to move to this stupid caravan if he’s in it!

“Really?” I utter in amazement. “You don’t need to get back?”

“After finally leaving the city for a nature retreat? I’m sure I can manage another day with just my laptop.” His smile causes my heart to skip a beat and do three somersaults.

“So the meadow agrees with you?” I grin. I can’t believe my idea was so successful.

“The meadow.” He nods, staring at me with big eyes. “And the company…”

“I’m glad you like my surprise.” I feel so content.

“I love your surprise. And now I need to finish eating and work, and you also have stuff to do.”

I need to call Bill, extend our stay in the village, and call Danny—to lie to him again.

I’m sure Ben is thinking about that as well but he doesn’t say a word, and I’m glad he doesn’t raise the subject.

Ben sits next to me on the large blanket, and we both open our laptops.

I wait until he immerses himself in his emails, contracts, and building plans, until I’m certain he’s preoccupied with business and not interested in what I’m doing. Then I start typing.

“I’m going inside to work.” Ben’s voice startles me. “The sun is blinding me, sweetheart.”

“I think it’s best I stay outside.” I look at him playfully. “If I go inside…”

“My thoughts exactly.” He smiles charmingly, giving away his thoughts.

He wants me. Now. Constantly. As I want him.

Ben gets up and goes inside. I close my computer and lie in the hot sun. I close my eyes and allow my thoughts to drift off to the previous night.

You’re wonderful…and smart…and beautiful…

“Have you finished working?” I ask Ben, who is lying in bed with the computer on his lap. He looks up and replies, “Almost.”

“Okay,” I reply softly, “don’t let me interrupt you…”

In one quick movement, I pull my dress off, remove my panties, and stand naked by the bed. Ben is enthralled. His eyes scrutinize my naked body, making me blush. He likes me this way, daring, not shy with him.

“What did you have in mind?” he asks, grinning.

“I thought you hadn’t finished yet. Don’t let me bother you.” I smile as I lie down on my stomach by his side and bring my mouth close to his ear.

“I was just thinking,” I whisper in his ear and kiss his earlobe, “how nice it would be…if you were inside me.”

I breathe gently near his ear.

He closes his eyes and his chest starts heaving.

“But you,” I continue, “prefer to work…instead of feeling how much I want you…”

He closes his laptop and puts it on the dresser next to the bed.

“No, no, no,” I whisper seductively. “You wanted to know what I had in mind. So now you’ll have to lie here…and just listen…instead of being inside me…” I breathe slowly next to him. “Here, feel.” I take his hand and run it over my wet opening.

“Talia…” he whispers, and his fingers move over my slit.

“Such a shame.” I move his hand. “Instead of being inside me…as I’d like…filling me up…” I lean toward him and bite his lip.

“You’re killing me,” he whispers and I slip my hand into his pants, grabbing his erection, wrapping my fingers around it.

“Really? It’s not me.” I continue torturing him. “It’s you…”

He pulls his clothes off in one swift move, flings them onto the side of the bed, and lies next to me, naked and aroused.

I suck on his lip before I climb on top of him, sit on his hips, and slowly lean forward toward his ear.

“Watch…” I tease and move my slit over his erection, letting him feel how ready I am for him. I can feel that he wants to penetrate me, but I move away, not giving him the satisfaction.

He moans and I enjoy torturing him some more.

“So, what’ll it be?” I continue undulating against his impressive erection. “Your computer?” He thrusts against me. “Or this?” I whisper and put him inside me, allowing him to go in deeply. His hands press my hips down, but I rise on my knees and he slips out.

He groans. He wants more.

I let him penetrate me again and with a tormenting slowness take him out, again.

“What do you say? Your computer?” I let him enter me again and feel how wet and ready I am. I lift my hips slowly. His hands grab me and try to pull me down, but I move and he slips out.

“Or…me?” I whisper and push him into me deeply, arching my back and my exposed breasts. I move my hips back and forth, feeling him go deeper and deeper. He groans with pleasure. He throws his head back and I take him out again. I lean over him, my face close to his. His eyes burn with passion. I place my hands on both sides of his head and whisper in his ear, “Do you want your computer now?”

“I want you.” He groans loudly as I position my slit right over the tip of his erection.

“Are you sure?” I whisper.

“I want you!” he whispers, begging me, his green eyes locked into mine. I push him into me, my head next to his, and feel him deep inside. I rock back and forth. His hands grasp my hips, his fingers on my favorite, protruding bone. His breathing is quick and loud. I move up and down and pick up the rhythm, moaning in his ear and listening to him panting beneath me.

“Keep your eyes open,” he demands through gritted teeth. “Look at me when you come.”

“I can’t,” I mutter. Looking at him, and letting go, at the same time…

He pulls out of me slowly.

“Please,” I beg him. The tables have turned. Now he’s running the show…

“Look at me.” His tone is stern and authoritative. I don’t take my eyes off him. He waits just a moment and then slams into me. I shout, but I don’t look away from him.

“More?”

“Yes,” I moan. “Harder.”

I let my body match his thrusts.

“Don’t. Close. Your. Eyes,” he orders between each breath, each thrust. I can feel how close I am. But I get too embarrassed when I look at him.

He pushes himself in again and again.

“Let go,” he demands.

“I can’t.”

“Let go.” His voice gets louder. His breathing quickens and I want to come so badly. My body is screaming, the feeling of him inside me is so wonderful.

“Ben…” I moan. I’m so close. I want it so much.

“Let go!” he shouts.

And I let go. A loud shout makes its way out of me and an amazing orgasm engulfs me as I look straight into his green eyes. And then he looks into mine and comes, shouting my name, “Talia!”

Ben’s arms are hugging me from behind, I can hear him breathing on my neck. He’s asleep. Nevertheless, I find it impossible to close my eyes and get some sleep too. My demons are celebrating. They won’t let my body get the rest I know it needs. The most perfect man in the world is hugging me in his arms in a small, cramped caravan in the middle of nowhere, and I don’t want to miss even one second. My fingers gently caress his arm, addicted to the feel of him. I close my eyes, finding it hard to believe that he wants to stay another night with me. This confusing man. Confused man. Mine. The man I love.

“Talia.” I feel a gentle hand stroking my hair and I open my eyes. Ben smiles at me. I must have fallen asleep, my body surrendering to fatigue.

“Hi,” I mumble through a small yawn. “What time is it?”

“Six. We need to eat something.” Shit. I hadn’t planned for us to stay another night, and we have nothing to eat in the caravan.

“This wasn’t part of the original plan.” I smile at him.

“I know. But there’s a nice restaurant here. Come on, get dressed.”

“How do you know?” I sit up in bed and look for my panties on the floor.

“Internet.” He grins and gets dressed. “You’re not the only one who knows how to look for things.”

“So what are we eating?”

“Supper.” He looks at me with his charming smile.

“Very funny!” I grab my pillow and throw it at him in a swift movement.

“Hey! If you think a pillow fight will help you avoid supper, it won’t work, young lady!” He laughs, catching the pillow and throwing it back at me.

“I don’t, but it’s obvious you would’ve lost big time.” I stand up and put on my dress.

“We’ll see about that.”

“Okay, take me to eat before I find something else to throw at you.” I laugh as I put my shoes on. Ben is already dressed, and he stretches his hand out to me.

If there’s one thing I love, it’s holding his hand. And here, in Kent, far away from anyone who knows us, we don’t need to be afraid someone will see.

The restaurant is just a ten-minute walk from our caravan. I remember to take my sweater and the surrounding tranquility reminds me so much of home. I can’t believe I’ve been in England for just over a month. So much has happened since I arrived. I never could have imagined it. I walk next to him down the path, my hand in his, almost bursting with happiness.

“Did you eat enough?” Ben looks at me in concern. I ate enough for the entire week. The small restaurant is illuminated by a dim light and the smell of meat wafts through it. Soft blues music is playing and I put my fork down, unable to eat another bite.

“I’m full,” I reply, feeling good. I really had enough to eat: chicken breast, some potatoes, and a salad.

“More wine?” He lifts the bottle of the delicious Merlot that he ordered for us and I nod.

“If you’re trying to get me drunk, you’re moving in the right direction.” A tiny giggle comes out.

“I’m dying to see you drunk again.” He takes his eyes off the bottle as he fills our glasses.

“Not tonight,” I grin.

Really not tonight. Drunken Talia can be mischievous and seductive, but this weekend isn’t the right place for her to make an appearance.

“Some other time?” he suggests.

“Some other time,” I joke.

“Did you speak to Danny?” he asks solemnly.

“Yes.”

“What did you say to him?”

“That I’m spending the weekend in Kent, in bed with his best friend. What do you think I said to him?” I tease him.

“Tom?” He takes a sip of his wine.

“Yes.”

“I must remember to thank the guy sometime.” He laughs slightly.

“I can have that arranged, if you want,” I mumble uncomfortably.

“You still have his number?” Ben looks at me, somewhat taken aback.

“I think so.” I shrug.

“Why?”

Why?

“Not sure. I never deleted it.” I’m not sure where this conversation is going.

“Maybe you just want to leave all your options open.” He smiles, and I can see the wine is starting to affect him, as it’s affecting me.

“He wouldn’t mind,” I answer.

“What does that mean?” He doesn’t sound pleased. Does he seriously not understand that I can’t think about anyone else?

“That evening, in the pub, when you wouldn’t stop laughing at me,” I narrow my eyes and pretend I’m still angry about his behavior, “he told me I’m more than welcome to call him anytime.”

Ben grins. “You’re a popular girl.”

“Yeah, right.” I roll my eyes in blatant disdain.

“Well, I can relate to him. It seemed like you were having a nice time at the bar.”

“We were. I see you didn’t miss that.”

“No one missed it. Your giggles were charming and Danny couldn’t stop glaring at you.”

“Really?” I’m amazed to hear that.

“Yes.”

“He won’t stop asking when he’s going to meet Tom.” I take another sip of my wine.

“I hate lying to him,” Ben admits.

“But you like me in your bed more.” I smile shyly.

“I like you in my bed a lot. Now, what do you say we go back to the caravan? It may not be my bed, but I’m certainly willing to make do with it.” He stares at me seductively and I can feel my body awakening.

“Take me to bed, darling,” I propose, and Ben asks for the bill.

We make our way back to the caravan in the dark, without saying a word. The silence is perfect. We both let our thoughts wander. I let Ben’s fingers stroke my palm and a tiny tremor runs through me. My body responds immediately to his touch. Soon we’ll arrive, and he’ll take his clothes off and I’ll let him sink into me and take me to places only he can.

I lean on Ben’s shoulder while he works energetically on his laptop. I’m trying to keep my eyes open, but it’s a losing battle. The rocking of the train is causing them to close. I don’t want to miss my last moments with him, even if he’s busy on his computer. I just want to continue inhaling his aftershave and looking at his clean-shaven cheeks and pretending that his heart beats like mine. But my eyes refuse to stay open and I fall asleep on my most favorite shoulder in the world.

At one p.m. I open the door to the house, feeling apprehensive. I just hope Danny’s inquisition will be short.

I’m already missing the taste of Ben, who pulled me to him at the train station, breathed in my hair, and stroked my cheeks tenderly.

“Your surprise was…” he muttered, “I love your crazy plans.”

His lips found mine and his kiss was unexpectedly intense, which made me dizzy. It was as though he was trying to brand my taste into him. His tongue explored my mouth and I just wanted to freeze time. Then he released me slowly and smiled one last smile. I turned around and walked away from him, my steps small and weak, my knees still shaky from his kiss.

I enter the house now, unsure when I’ll see him again. I’m a prisoner of my anticipation.

Danny gives me an unhappy look over the weekend paper. I can smell smoke and assume John is on the patio.

“Welcome back.” He’s not pleased.

“Hi,” I answer feebly as I feel the guilt burning inside.

All I do is lie to him, he’s so good to me and all I do is lie to him, but I can’t stop. I can’t tell him and I’m certainly not going to stop seeing Ben. It’s not even an option. I can live with my lies, although not in peace, but I simply cannot imagine my life without the man with the greenest eyes in the world, the one who just spent the weekend with me in a faraway meadow.

“How are you?” he asks gruffly.

How am I? I’ll let you know once I wake up from the dream...

“I’m fine,” I reply, but images of me on a thin blanket, drinking red wine with his best friend, refuse to fade.

“So, Tom?” He closes the newspaper and now his attention is focused on me.

“Yes, I told you over the phone.”

“Why does he never come here?”

“It’s complicated,” I murmur. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll start with your reproofs and I don’t have the energy for that now.” I frown at him.

“My reproofs?”

“Yes.”

“Talia, what’s going on with you?” He looks serious, but he isn’t angry, just worried.

“We enjoy being together. We have fun, and that’s all that matters.” I realize I’m repeating Ben’s words. We have fun together, and that’s all that matters.

“It’s not serious, then?” he asks again.

“It is. Of course it is.” I’m quick to correct myself. “You know, he’s busy, so…”

“Talia, please, don’t get yourself into trouble. I don’t like the sound of this guy.” He looks at me with such concern in his eyes. Once again, guilt creeps up on me.

Don’t get into trouble.

Oh, Danny, I’m in so much trouble. I’m head over heels in love, and you really don’t want to know with whom.

“Please, don’t worry. I’m a big girl,” I try to reassure him. “Now I’d love to go and put my stuff in my room.”

“Okay. Are you joining us for lunch?” He gives me one last, grave look.

I’m tired—from a sleepless night, writhing in bed ardently with Ben, noisy and sweaty. But I have to make an effort. I must put on a perfect act.

“Sure, I’ll just throw my stuff in my room.” I mask my exhaustion. All I want to do right now is crawl into bed, close my eyes, and dream about the tiny caravan and Ben’s hands caressing me until I fall asleep. But that’ll have to wait. And so will I. Until we meet again.