Dirty Little Lies (Dirty Little #2) (15 page)

I moan, and grind down on his face a little. That simple movement must really get him going if the enthusiasm with which he continues getting me off is any indication.
 

“You taste so good,” he says, his voice making me vibrate in all the right places. I shift my hips to help him get a better angle, and he gets so frustrated with the presence of my undies that he rips them clean off.
 

He’s never done something like that before, and honestly, watching it happen ticked my arousal up about another ten notches. I grip his hair tightly, using it for leverage, and I buck my hips against him, chasing my impending release.

I come in seconds, white-hot pleasure radiating out into my toes and my fingertips. Ben keeps his mouth on me, working me down, kissing the insides of my thighs, and rubbing my hips with his talented hands.
 

“C’mere,” I say, crooking my finger.
 

He responds immediately, pressing his body against mine as he crawls up my body for a kiss.
 

When I feel the tip of his cock against me, I very nearly push down, just wanting to keep feeling this connection with him. I’m desperate for it at this point, despite the fact that I’m still feeling the ripples from my first orgasm.
 

I know that’s what he wants too, because he rocks his hips against mine. He’s probably not even thinking clearly right now, his common sense completely lost in a haze of lust. I have to be the one to look out for both of us now.
 

“Condom,” I say, my voice all raspy and low.
 

“What?” He pulls back, almost adorably confused. It’s always been a little difficult for Ben to shake the haze of lust once he lets it take hold of him.
 

“We need a condom, Ben.”
 

His eyes widen, and he almost manages to hide the surprise that he had gotten so far without putting one on yet. He reaches over to his nightstand and opens the drawer. There was a time when I would’ve let him fuck me without any protection, but I’m smarter than that now

One pregnancy scare with him was one too many.
 

“Sorry,” he says as he rolls on the condom. “I got a little distracted.”
 

He leans down and gives me a sweet kiss, planting his elbows on the bed for leverage as he twines our fingers together. He latches onto my neck as he slides into me. We’re both so far gone and desperate for each other that we frantically rock into each other.
 

We kiss, and I wrap my legs around Ben, needing him as close as I can get him, let him push me higher and higher, as I turn my head and breathe in the smell of him, all sweaty and soapy and perfect.
 

My second orgasm isn’t as strong as my first, but it’s enough to get lost in, enough to make me feel like I’m light as air. It’s enough to pull Ben along after me, and his body stiffens as he loses his rhythm, pressing his forehead into the crook of my neck and chanting my name as he comes.
 

We lie together, holding each other, for a few minutes, until Ben starts softening inside of me. We both groan when he pulls himself up to discard the condom, and I miss the warmth of his body immediately. It doesn’t take him long to clean up, and when he climbs back into bed, he wraps his body around mine.
 

As usual, he’s the big spoon to my little.
 

“That was amazing,” he says, nuzzling into my hair. “You’re amazing.”
 

“It was amazing,” I reply, squeezing his bicep.
 

“Thanks for the orgasms,” I tease.
 

Ben laughs, and it’s warm against the still-drying sweat on the back of my neck. “My pleasure. Literally.”
 

I can practically feel Ben’s smile. I know he sounds content.
 

And despite everything that’s going on in my life and all the ways it could go wrong, I am, too.
 

Ben and I are both so exhausted by everything that happened the night before, we sleep in a little the following morning. It’s a work day for both of us; I have a few conference calls with potential advertisers, and Ben has two meetings that he has to be in the office for.
 

I make a couple of omelettes out of what little I can find in Ben’s fridge, and the two of us eat side-by-side as we lay out our non-work plans for the day, all of which involve dealing with the Corinne crisis on our hands.
 

Mia set up some kind of an algorithm that would send her an alert if the scumbag who was blackmailing me tried to sell any of Corinne’s pictures. Apparently it would let her know if he even made contact with someone and let them know that he had such a thing. The logistics of that were beyond me, even though Ben patiently explains it to me at least three times.
 

Knowing that we have an extra layer of security thanks to Mia’s skills adds a layer of calm to my still frazzled nerves. We’re taking care of things, but we’re not taking care of them quickly enough for my tastes. I know that we have to be a little patient and take our time to make sure that everything goes smoothly, since one wrong move could trigger mass distribution of those pictures, but I’d rather this be over with sooner rather than later.
 

For her part, Corinne said that if the pictures got out, she’d handle it. Obviously, she’d rather that very private part of her life not be released for public consumption, but she’s a resilient young woman. She’ll bounce back from this if she has to.
 

Still, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that she doesn’t have to.
 

The head of Ben’s security team—the taller guy from last night, whose name I now know is Stuart—stops by before Ben leaves for the office.
 

Stuart tells me that I need to go home for a little while today, at least a couple of hours, just in case that psycho blackmailer is actually watching me like he says he is. Stuart doesn’t want me off the grid for too long; he thinks that the more I can keep up with my daily routine, the better.
 

His idea is this: He’ll head over to my neighborhood for a good surveillance spot now. Ben’s driver will drop me off in front of my place, before driving Ben to his office. It’ll look to the outside like the sleepover it was. I’ll make my morning coffee run like I usually do, and Stuart will have a guy on me. I’ll go home and work for a few hours like normal, and then Ben can pick me up on his way back from the office.
 

“Someone will have eyes on you at all times,” Stuart assures me. I probably look worried out of my mind, which isn’t too far from the truth.
 
“As an extra precautionary measure, you’ll have this.” He takes my hand, and presses a small black fob into my palm.
 

“What is it?” I ask.
 

“A panic button. We’re going to be nearby, but we won’t be in the house with you. If something happens, and I mean
if
, then I want you to press this red key. We’ll come for you right away.”
 

“Okay,” I say, carefully pocketing the fob.
 

“I trust your judgment,” Stuart continues. “Please only use this if you absolutely have to. If you’re feeling spooked, I’ve added my cell number to the contact list on your phone. I’ll have that on me at all times. Send me a text if you think there’s something that I need to check out. We don’t want to alert anyone who might be watching that anything is out of the ordinary.”
 

I completely understand that. It’s been one of my worries. “If something is scary but not immediately dangerous, I’ll text you.”
 

Stuart nods. “I’ll have my phone on me at all times.”
 

Ben gently puts his hand on mine. “Promise me you’ll use that.”
 

I look at him curiously. “Of course I will.”
 

“You were so reluctant to ask for help because you were worried that this guy would realize that something was out of the ordinary; I just wanted to make sure that if push comes to shove you’ll get the help you need, regardless.”
 

Ben actually looks a little terrified at the prospect that I might be too concerned about appearances to ask for help when I need it. Given the fact that it took me being on the verge of a nervous breakdown in his office to ask for help with this situation in the first place, I can’t say that I blame him.
 

I press my hand against his cheek, then give him a short, chaste kiss. “I promise. I’ll press this button if I think I’m in immediate danger.”
 

Ben rests his forehead against mine. “Okay.”

“I’m going to head out,” Stuart says, interrupting the moment. “I’ll let your driver know when he’s clear to leave. Any questions?”
 

I shake my head.
 

Ben says, “No.”
 

Stuart walks out the front door, and Ben turns to me.
 

“I don’t like the idea of you going home alone.”
 

I knew this was coming, and honestly, it’s endearing. “I’m just going to do some work there. Me spending the night here with you isn’t out of the ordinary, but me not coming home for days is. I’ll do some work, keep up appearances, and then we’ll meet somewhere for dinner.”
 

“I’ll pick you up for dinner,” he says, looking a little more relaxed than he did a minute ago. “I’ve still got some wooing to do.”
 

I can’t help but smile. “I’m glad the wooing is still on, considering I broke my other rule.”
 

“Wooing you is my pleasure,” he says, leaning in for a kiss with a breathtaking smile on his face.
 

“And breaking my rule was my pleasure.”
 

He hums against my lips. “And mine.”

“Many times,” I say, giggling.
 

“Maybe tonight we can break some more rules.” His hand trails up the inside of my thigh, over the fabric of the pants that I wore here yesterday.
 

“We broke the rules three times last night,” I remind him.
 

“Tonight, let’s try for four.”

I’m looking forward to that. “After dinner.”
 

“And wooing.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I reply, giving him another kiss.
 

It’s nice to get lost in possibility right now. To make plans that completely leave our current situation out of the equation. Because the fact of the matter is that our world at dinner time might look a lot different than it does right now. We might be dealing with yet another crisis. Or, hopefully, we’ll be putting this one to bed.
 

Either way, the planning is a nice distraction.
 

Ben’s cell phone beeps, and he pulls it out of the breast pocket of his suit.
 

“Time to go,” he says, helping me up from my chair.
 

As he walks over to the table by the door, collecting his laptop bag. I take a moment to admire the view: Ben’s in the kind of business where he doesn’t dress up very frequently. He’s always dressed
nicely
, but suits aren’t part of his wardrobe on a daily basis.
 

It’s a damn shame, too, because suits look sinful on this man. The one he’s wearing today is steel grey, paired with a crisp white shirt and a blue silk tie that really sets off his gorgeous eyes.
 

“What?” he asks, a smile spreading across his lips.
 

“That’s a good suit,” I say, walking over to him. “You should wear it more often.”
 

He practically preens under my compliment, and it takes my mind off of what I’m about to do: go home and pretend like absolutely nothing is wrong.
 

“C’mon,” he says, taking my hand.
 

I let him lead me out the door and down to the car. During our ride, he holds my hand, and I sit in silence thinking about how far I’ve come since yesterday.
 

Corinne has new people looking out for her, ones that will be observant enough to look out for someone trying to seduce her into a compromising position. She’s going to get acquainted with them this morning.
 

Mia has an eye out for someone trying to sell those pictures, which is a relief in and of itself.
 

Ben hooked me up with security that makes me feel truly protected, like they’ve taken my concerns to heart and are going to make sure that everything is okay.
 

I have a number to text if I feel uncomfortable, and a panic button to sound off if I think I’m in danger.
 

Still, I can’t help the feeling of dread that nags at me when Ben drops me off. He kisses me, lingering a little, like he feels it, too.
 

The day passes mostly without incident, and I manage to get through quite a lot of work before Ben’s due to pick me up for dinner.