Ben rubbed the velvet between his hands, wondering if he could actually go through with this. The ribbon was ruined. He’d have to get her a new one tomorrow. Before she left. Could he really let her go?

Her day was booked tomorrow. The photographer from her magazine would be here by breakfast. She had notes of locations she wanted shots of for the article. The photo to go along with the column was to be taken at a mixer at Crosslands in the afternoon. Then she’d get on a plane and fly to Portland, where she’d catch the Red Eye and make it back to New York by morning. There would be an entire country between them.

Jillian didn’t seem at all bothered by that fact as she made her way across the dark room, straight to him. Thoughts pounded his brain in time with his rapid heartbeat. Was she worried about it at all? Did she wonder how she would sleep at night without him, the way he thought of the emptiness she would leave?

Did she know how hard this was for him? To open himself up knowing she would be leaving? And what did she want from this game tonight? Was she planning on using him as fodder for her column? Was this nothing more than another vacation fling?

Ben shook his head, trying to dispel the roaring thoughts. This was a woman who crossed a country with an elaborate plan to see him again. This was Jillian. She knew how special this was, they were. She wouldn’t let it go now that they’d found it.

Her hand grazed his cheek and he closed his eyes. Even cleaned by the rain, she still smelled like the sea. Fresh and salty and ready. She removed her hand and his eyes shot open. He wasn’t ready to let her go. Not now, maybe not ever. She turned and he caught her arm, pulling her down onto his lap.

“You’re getting me all wet.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Ben released her, rubbing a hand over his face and through his dripping hair. He needed to get a hold of himself. He was over-thinking this. Nothing was wrong. She seemed to have gotten over whatever had made her mad at the restaurant. Though when he found her sitting outside, he thought she’d still been upset. Maybe this little game of hers was her punishment. Ben’s lips curled at the thought.

“Lose the pants.” A smile quirked her lips. She was trying so hard to look serious he had to bite his cheek not to laugh.

“Jilly, I don’t think this is going to work.”

“A problem with your equipment? Go ahead, let me have a look. Maybe I can help you fix your ready.”

He couldn’t keep the laughter down, letting it out until he was coughing. And she was laughing too.

“Work with me here, Ben. I play with you.” The melancholy he’d seen earlier evaporated before his eyes. She was having fun, but by the way her eyes were sparking, she was also coming up with a plan.

“I never said we couldn’t play.” Whatever it was, he was in. He pushed off his shoes, kicking them in the direction of the door where he’d dropped his shirt and her silvery heels on top of her wet blouse. Standing, he shoved off his pants, sending them in the direction of the other offending garments. Before he could get to his boxers, Jillian stood in front of him, towel in hand.

“You teasing me with your lingerie?” She ran her fingertip over the waistband of boxer briefs.

“Are you?” He reached for the strap of her nightgown, but she stepped away.

“This is my game. And you don’t get to touch me.”

“What kind of game are you playing here, Jillian?” And exactly how far did she think she could push him? Push herself?

She didn’t respond, just started rubbing the terrycloth in slow circles across his chest, shoulders. He grabbed the towel from her, rubbing his hair dry.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Can’t let anyone do anything for you.” She jutted a hip, the white satin of her nightgown reflecting the scant light in the room

“You can’t reach my hair. I was trying to help.”

“You want to help, lose the shorts.” She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. It emerged a heartbeat later glossy and tempting. She was better at this than he’d anticipated. He pulled the waistband out before slipping the shorts down his legs and kicking them away. Now she’d have to see the urgency of the situation. Ben looked down between their bodies. It was so dark, and she wasn’t even bothering to look.

“Let’s turn on some lights.”

“I like them off. We can see enough. No need to blindfold you this way.” Jillian reached down, plucking her ribbon from the mattress. “Lie in the middle of the bed and put your hands over your head.”

“Jillian...” His voice was a warning, but he wasn’t sure of what so he lay down. She hadn’t asked too much of him, yet.

“On your stomach, please.” He smiled at her nicety, but anxiety niggled at him as he rolled. What did she have in mind?

Her fingers worked in the shadows, wrapping the dampened ribbon around his wrists. Ben twisted his hand in the bond, the wet ribbon sticking to his skin. He couldn’t slip out, but it wasn’t really a restraint either.

“Do you need a safe word?” Jillian whispered in his ear.

“No. I can get out of this.” Her hair tickled his shoulder. She must be shaking her head.

“But if you do, you’ll break it. You don’t want to break it, do you, Ben?” His shoulders tensed at the thought. Even though he would get her a new one, he wanted to keep this one. The one she’d put on so willingly, right before she’d given her little performance in the car. He’d thought she hadn’t known, but maybe that was why she’d been so uninhibited.

He could hear her rubbing her hands together, her palms warm when they flattened against his back. Her hands glided up and down his skin—she must have found some massage oil. Her fingertips kneaded into his neck, shoulders, back, until the tension released.

Her thumbs traced down his spine, pulling the worry from his mind. There was no way he could think about maybes and consequences. It was all he could do not to roll over and move things along.

But she wanted this, whatever it was. And he was enjoying every second of it. The smell of her filling the room, her hands across his body, the pressure of her body against his side. He almost felt as if he were floating, except for the annoyance of the ribbon around his wrists, keeping him from reaching for her.

Her body straddled his across his thighs as she concentrated on his lower back. Ben turned his head against the pillow trying to get a peek at her, but even if he could crane his neck, he doubted he’d be able to make her out in the darkness. His thumb found the snap on the ribbon. He could probably get it off without it breaking.

Her hands drifted lower, massaging his cheeks, her thumbs tracing over the seam of his ass all the way to his balls. Ben squirmed, trying to turn, get some control back, but Jillian held his legs firm with her own, pressing her hands gently against his shoulders.

“If you fight me—” her hot breath steamed against his ear, tingling every nerve she’d worked so hard to soothe, “—we’re done.”

“If you keep doing that, we’re going to be done before we start.”

“Why would you lie to me?” Her hair tickled his shoulders as she sat back up, renewing her ministrations.

“I’m not.”

“Oh, but you are.” Her hands attacked his buttocks again, teasing over until they reached his balls. He shifted his legs wider to give her better access. “You’re aroused, sure, but you are nowhere near there.” One hand cupped him, pulling slightly on his sack. “I’ve memorized every inch of you, every response you have.” She released him, moving to the side as her hands ran up and down his thighs, legs, feet. “I know how your jaw sets, how your skin sticks on mine, how your breath starts to stutter, and your heart races. I know you’re not there, yet.”

Her hands rubbed at his feet, massaging every toe, the arch, the ball of one foot, and then the other. Her touch was firm yet tender, soft yet strong. As intimate as her words.

Ben closed his eyes and imagined what this would look like in the light. Jillian wanton and willing, so focused on his pleasure. Her hair tumbling down. He grinned, since in his imagination her hair was brown, curly, her body full and ripe like it had been that first time.

Her tongue drew a circle on the back of his knee. His eyes shot open, staring into the shadows of reality. Hot and wet, her kiss found where his calf met his thigh on one leg, then the other.

His groan echoed in his ears as she kissed up the back of his thigh. Her tongue traced the line where his thighs met his ass, and his hips rose from the bed. Her teeth nipped at him, pressing into his cheek, surely leaving a mark.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he teased.

“Turnabout is fair play.” Her tongue traced a slick path up his back. Her hot breath puffed against his neck. “You tried to mark me. At least where I did it no one will know.”

Ben groaned again, rolling his head to the side to give her better access while she kissed his neck. She was marking him? As if anything could erase her from his mind. He needed no reminders.

Her tongue traced the shell of his ear. No voice, just breath saying, “Roll over.” He didn’t have to be told twice. He spun so quickly he almost knocked her off the side of the bed. Still stuck in the ribbon, he brought his hands to her.

“Hold on there, cowboy.” She wrapped her hands around his wrists and raised them back over his head. “We’re going at my pace, remember?”

His body smoldered with what she had done to him already. His muscles were relaxed from the massage, yet tense with the need for release. He opened his mouth to try and explain the urgency, but she silenced him with a finger. Her hand shifted, her fingers rubbing gently at his face. His eyes closed, letting her undo the tension in his brow, cheeks, chin.

Was she memorizing him now? He’d already done that to her. Even with his eyes closed he could see her perfectly, the curve of a smile teasing about her lips.

Her mouth brushed against his, her tongue tracing the outline of his lips. He lifted his head to deepen the kiss, but she pulled away, her hands tracing over his chest, down his stomach. Of course the little minx would skip over the part of him that wanted her most, moving down his legs inch by inch until she found his feet again.

“You’re killing me here, Jilly.” Did she want him to just lie here, or was she trying to tease him until he broke free and repaid her kindness?

“The best sex takes place in your head first.” Jillian rose from the bed and pulled her nightgown slowly up her thighs. It would have been a great show if there were light enough for him to see more than shadows.

“Is that what you’re doing? Trying to get into my head?” Ben grinned, happy with the knowledge she agreed with him.

“Baby, I don’t have to try.” The nightgown skimmed higher with each word. “The only thing you want more than for me to take you right now, is for me to keep going.”

She lifted the hem over her head, her bare skin soaking up the light. Jillian climbed onto the bed, stretching out on her side next to him. Her hand traced up and down his chest. Was she planning on torturing him forever? Her gaze locked with his. In the dark, the color of her eyes lost their vibrancy, but not her intensity. A look that swallowed his heart as she tilted her chin and placed a gentle kiss against his lips.

Rolling on top of him, she kissed him again, and again. Stronger, deeper each time. Her beaded nipples dug into his chest. Every nerve ending on his body was hyper-alert to her every movement.

He returned the kiss, sucking her tongue deep into his mouth, wanting more of her than she offered. Her hands gripped at his shoulders, pushing her body up from his. Her hair fell forward, framing her face as she stared down at him. Her glassy eyes sparkled in the faint light.

With a determined shake of her head, her attentions drifted down his body. Her hair brushed against his chest, blocking his view. Ben closed his eyes and imagined the picture to go along with the sensations coursing through him.

Her tongue darting about his nipple, her teeth, pulling it taut. Her smile as she devoted her attentions to his other nipple, swirling around and around. Her hand teasing over the hairs of his stomach as it made a path to his cock. Her French-manicured fingernails gripping the length of him. His body surged into her hands.

He’d been throbbing for so long it wouldn’t take much to send him over. He battled with distancing himself so he would last or giving in to the moment. He opted to give in. As turned on as he was, recovery time would be minimal.

Soft kisses journeyed down his torso to the juncture of his hip. It was so freeing to give up control this way. To please her by allowing her to pleasure him. This must be what it felt like for her.

Her tongue flicked about the very tip of him, barely touching, like a butterfly. Ben brought his hands down, but she stayed just out of his reach. His bound hands rested in her hair, which was drying into round ringlets.

She plunged him into her mouth. Ben moaned her name at the sheer pleasure. Her tongue teased as her mouth worked. She rolled his balls in one hand as she kissed every inch of his length. Her tongue explored the underside, ridge, slit. Ben closed his eyes and tried to get there, tried to imagine the way it had been in the car.

She alternated between sucking the head and licking the shaft. Enough to drive him wild, but not enough to plunge him over, leaving him suspended on a narrow edge.

“Jilly, please.” The need in his raspy voice filled the room.

The mattress shifted, the wet velvet of her mouth released him. Wet velvet. His thumbs traced the choker as she crawled up, pushing his arms back over his body.

“Please what?” She straddled him, her slick core sliding against him as she slowly sat up.

He could see her now, her body as bare as his. The pressure where she sat eased the ache, but intensified his want. She was so wet, so ready.

Their gazes met. She tempted him by running her hands down her body, cupping her breasts, rolling the nipples between her thumb and finger. Still, he held the stare, searching for what she would do next.

Bracing her hands against his chest, she began to grind slow circles, aligning them so he felt her hard nub pressing against the tip of him. She leaned down, taking his lips between hers, parting them with her tongue.

Her hips lifted, depriving him of the contact he was so desperate for. Before he could cry out, her hand gripped him, centering him so she could slide down onto him.

They both cried out, the pleasure echoing throughout the room. Her hips began slow circles, her wetness seeping over him, the mattress below them growing damp. She reversed the clockwise circles, little mewing sounds marking the time.

Ben rolled his shoulders, trying to figure a way to hold her, guide her, get her to unsnap his wrists. He could do it himself, but he wanted her to want it. Thought of asking evaporated when her knees sunk farther against the mattress and she started to go up and down with painful slowness. Did she plan on keeping him on the edge forever?

She leaned down, her hands on either side of his head, her breasts falling against his cheeks. Not waiting to see what she had in mind, Ben turned his head and sucked a ruby-ripe nipple deep into his mouth. So far she cried out. So far he could flick his tongue over the whole thing, tasting her skin. Finally able to do something to her.

Her grinding pace increased, punctuated by her alternating sharp breaths and raspy moans. She tried to sit back up, but he kept her anchored.

“Please...Ben...please...” The need in her voice mirrored what he felt. He released her, hoping she’d repay the favor so they could both jump off the edge.

But instead Jillian leaned back, giving him an amazing view of her body silhouetted by the moonlight fading through the windows. The outline of her arched over him, while she continued the slow circles below. He pulled his hands down, running the back of his knuckles up and down her smooth belly. She shuddered at the connection, picking up the pace.

Dropping his arms against his body, Ben sought out their joining. He found her clit, circling it with one knuckle until she gasped, peering down at him. A smile curled on her lips and Ben felt her squeeze him as she lifted, release as she lowered. His eyes widened. How could she do that? He groaned, trying to stay on top of the sensation she was intensifying with every move. It was impossible not to mirror her motions with thrusts. To try to get more of the splendid torture she offered.

Barreling towards the edge, Ben tried to warn her. “Jilly...”

“Yeah?” She intensified her squeezing, stepped up the rhythm until Ben crashed over the other side.

Blood thundered in his ears, pleasure radiating from his spine. He could hear his gasps for breath, but the room was completely black. He felt hard streams pulsing inside her as her body squeezed, milking him. It felt as if he was coming all the way from his soul.