Hungry Heart: Part Two (4 page)

I don’t know what it is about what he said, but my eyes fly open at realizing what we’ve done. What we’re doing, with no fucking protection, but it’s too late. The words to tell him to pull out on the tip of my tongue get stuck as my orgasm rolls over me swift and strong, my fingers digging into his shoulders while my whole body tightens all over and around him. With a final thrust he comes, his fingers holding onto my ass as if it’s a lifeline, a long throaty moan emerging from his mouth as he stills.

I shove at his shoulders. “Let me down.”

He doesn’t respond and I’m about to repeat myself when he finally lowers me to the ground, making sure my feet are touching the carpet before releasing me with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“We broke the rules, that’s what’s wrong.”

I can practically see how what I’ve said sends his sluggish thoughts whirling, going through the rules to see which one we possibly broke, and the subsequent widening of his eyes as it hits him.

“Shit!” He steps away from me and glances down, then back at me with a mixed expression of horror and disbelief. “I didn’t mean—I’m clean—”

Holding my hands up palms out, I interrupt him. “Stop. I’m on birth control, we’re both clean. That’s not the point and you know it.”

He stares at me until the insane urge to wiggle as if I’ve done something wrong shoots through me, and then he shoves a hand through his hair and shrugs. “Well, go on and do whatever you’ve gotta do now that we broke the rules. Actually,” he says with a quirk of his brow, “what’re you supposed to do if this happens?”

“Tell him.” I whisper this, and I’m not sure why, but he smiles as if he finds this funny.

“Really?” He laughs. “Well go ahead then. Text him and say, ‘Merry Christmas, Benedict was drunk and forgot to use a condom while he fucked me against a door while I was fully-dressed. Sorry!’ But you’ll have to call for a ride if you need to go home now, since I can’t drive.” As my mouth drops open, he whirls and stalks off to the bathroom, slamming the door.

I pull out my phone, yet I’m hesitant to send a message to Nathan. Benedict didn’t do it on purpose and it wasn’t like I wasn’t at fault too. Not really sure why he suddenly has an attitude about it though. The rules have been clear from the beginning.

Marching after him, I stop in front of the bathroom door and smack my palm against it a few times before yelling through to him. “No need to be a dick, Benedict!”

The door flies open and he glares at me. “Stop shouting.”

“Stop being mad at me for—”

“I’m not mad at you; I’m
furious
with Len and Miranda. As for right now, I’m fucking annoyed.” Lifting a hand to his head, he rubs his palm right above his left eye as he speaks softly, the pain back in his voice. “And I have a headache. I need to lie down.”

He turns the light off and brushes past me, shedding what little clothes he’s wearing on the way until he’s naked, and then climbs into bed. I go into the bathroom and clean up. I’m not in there longer than five minutes, but when I come out he’s snoring and I’ve no desire to lie down next to him right now.

I go back downstairs to find something to do only to end up discovering copious amounts of liquor bottles, making it evident Benedict’s probably been drinking since last night and hadn’t slept at all until now.

For the first time since Frank warned me about Miranda, I’m wondering what the fuck I’ve gotten myself into while acknowledging it’s too late for such a thing.

Especially since I’m falling in love with him, which means even if I did tell Nathan what just happened, I’m not sure I’d break up with Benedict if he wanted me to.

And just like that, the lines around the rules blur, and I’m not sure what the right thing to do is anymore.

So, in the end, I don’t say anything at all.

6

“Who are you when nobody’s looking?”

Benedict’s question is random, coming out of nowhere really, as we sit on the couch later in the evening. The TV isn’t on, he has the fireplace going, and we’re simply enjoying each other’s company along with some delicious wine.

After cleaning, I’d gone into the living room and lain on the couch while watching TV, but must’ve passed out. It was six p.m. when Benedict woke me, having just gotten up himself. After a kiss and an apology for earlier, he made dinner, and what happened wasn’t mentioned.

I don’t know if he thinks I messaged Nathan and doesn’t want to ask to avoid pissing me off or something, but I don’t bring it up either. At this point, it doesn’t matter really, because I want to keep him as much as I want to keep Nathan. And for me, that means letting a little slip up go, because I know he didn’t meant to forget, and I’m not blameless.

“Um,” I answer when he gives my shoulders a squeeze, bringing my attention back to the present. “I’m always just me. I don’t pretend to be something I’m not.”

“Never? Not even to impress someone?”

“No.” He lets go of me as I sit up and set my glass on the table, then snuggle into his side again. “I often thought my parents put up a front as I was growing up. Doing whatever they needed to try to fit in, to make sure I fit in, and they weren’t true to themselves. They tried to buy my love like every other parent they knew did with their children.”

“Is that why you don’t like gifts?”

Pulling back a little, I stare up at his face in surprise. “How did you know I don’t like getting gifts?”

“I didn’t,” he answers with a grin, setting his glass on the table as well before shifting me to straddle his lap while facing him. “Lucky guess after realizing just now how you didn’t receive any birthday gifts. Problem is…”

“Is?”

“Well.” He grimaces, lifting his hips a little to dig into the pocket of his lounge pants, and pulls his hand out, clenching whatever it is in his fist. “I bought you a Christmas gift.”

My stomach drops, along with the smile from my face, but he prevents me from getting up with a strong hold on my hip.

“You should see what it is before you freak out.” His grin is playful even though his eyes are serious. “I’m not trying to buy your love, Caroline. Or even your like. I saw it and thought of you, that’s all.”

“Benedict…”

“You might hate it and dump me,” he teases, giving my lips a soft kiss as he holds up his hand. “Do you want to see it or not?”

I hate how hopeful he looks while we sit here, staring at one another, my heart racing as if I’m being chased. It’s just a gift; an innocent token of affection. It shouldn’t hurt, shouldn’t burn my chest the way it does as the anxiety weaves its way around inside me, yet it does. I want to see it at the same time I don’t. Years with Nathan and I’ve never let him buy me a gift, but he’s also never offered one out of nowhere. He took me at my word that I didn’t like receiving them and so as to not upset me he’s never bought me one. But what do I do in the face of being presented with a gift by Benedict, who bought it simply because it made him think of me?

Shifting my focus to his hand, I notice I can’t see anything, which means whatever it is, it’s small.

He moves it to right in front of my face, murmuring as his burning gaze holds my anxious one, “If you don’t want it after you see it, it’s okay. I’ll understand. But you should at least look. It won’t bite you.”

I square my shoulders and give him a nod. “Okay. Show me.”

Opening his hand, a thin silver necklace hangs from his index finger, and I follow it down until my eyes land on the item dangling on the end.

A little silver muffin-shaped charm.

My lower lip wobbles while my eyes fill with tears at the thoughtfulness of the gift and when I lift my gaze back to his, he frowns. “No? Should I have gotten the one that said ‘eat my muffin’ instead?”

His question sends me into a fit of unexpected laughter, which he joins in with, and after they fade away I throw my arms around his neck, burying my face in the crook of his warm, naked shoulder. His arms embrace me without hesitation, one around my waist while the other cradles the back of my head, and he chuckles.

“Guess this means I’m not gonna be dumped for buying you a present?” When I shake my head but don’t lift it back up, he laughs again. “Let me put it on you then.”

“All right.” Once I’m sitting up, I take both of my hands and lift up my hair so it doesn’t get snag in the clasp of the necklace, and as he puts it around my neck, I ask, “What about you?”

He slides his hands down to my shoulders once the necklace is on and smiles at me. “What about me what?”

Dropping my hair, I snatch up the muffin charm in one hand and roll it between my fingers while staring at him. “Who are you when nobody’s looking?”

“I’m like you; I don’t like to pretend. I’m the same whether someone is looking at me or not.”

“So you don’t have any deep dark secrets?”

He glides his hands down until they rest on my bare thighs, one on each side with palms down, and toys with the edge of my skirt. “No. I think you do though.”

“I don’t!”

With a flick of his wrists, he tosses the skirt up, baring me to his eyes for only a moment before covering me once more, and laughs. “You do with these skirts. I’ve never seen you in a pair of jeans. You’re always wearing a skirt. Do you even own pants?”

“Other than pajama pants? No, but that’s not a secret.” I think he expects me to say of course I have jeans and such, but I don’t. So when his eyes widen and his mouth drops open, I shrug and explain. “My mother always dressed me in skirts, even when I was a kid. I never, ever wore jeans or yoga pants or anything like that. Then, I went to all-girl schools up until high school, but even then, the uniforms had girls in skirts. I suppose it’s habit more than anything else now.”

“Well, it’s a hot habit. Every single time I see you, all I can think about is how easy it would be to bend you over and fuck you with little to no effort.” Trailing a finger on the soft skin of my inner thigh, he slips his hand under the material, and then between my legs where he discovers I’m not wearing panties, which has his soft smile turning into a wicked grin. “Or, like right now, discovering you have nothing on under that skirt makes me want to lift you into the perfect position and thrust into you so fucking hard you scream.”

Other than the grin, he’s looking at me the way he did the day I saw him across the cafe, and my body’s instant arousal has me involuntarily clenching my legs, which I know he feels because the hand on my thigh contracts a little as if he’s trying to control himself. With the hand between my leg, he keeps all but one finger still, sliding it between my labia, spreading my wetness around before slipping the digit inside my pussy as deep as he can go. It’s not long before he has two fingers in me, and his thumb is manipulating me on the outside.

He uses his other hand to bring us close as we can be with me sitting on his lap, and I drop my forehead to rest on his shoulder, closing my eyes to enjoy the pleasure he’s giving me. I feel him reaching between us, sure he’s freeing himself, and take a quick peek to see that’s exactly what he’s doing.

Then, I feel him turn his face to the left, his lips brushing against the top of my ear, which he takes between his teeth and nips a little. The bite is followed by him sucking on it, then licking around the edges until I shiver, and he removes his hand from my body, leaving me feeling empty.

It doesn’t last long. I feel his cock probing at the entrance to my pussy, but he doesn’t go in. Instead, he stops and groans, his voice deep as his fingers dig into my hips. “Will you break up with me if I fuck you without anything Caroline? Tell me you’ll break up with me or I’m not going to stop. I’ve always used protection, earlier today was the first time I never…god, you felt so fucking good.”

I admit, I’m shocked. So surprised at his admission I don’t say anything and he starts talking again.

“It’s just you for me, sweetheart. And I know it’s the rules, but fuck the rules. You’re my girlfriend, too. Can’t we make up our own fucking rules?”

“Benedict—”

He lowers my body, his cock entering me a little bit more, and streak of pleasure makes me whimper, cutting off what I was going to say. He practically growls his words into my ear now, wanting his answer. “Are you going to break up with me? Yes or no?”

I should. Earlier I could blame on him being drunk, but now he’s asking me to blatantly ignore the rules. And making me choose. It should be black and white, I should climb off and say it’s over, but I can’t. No, I can, but I don’t want to. I’m caught and I’ve no wish to escape, no matter what the consequences are.

Because here, in front of him and in his grip, and not alone, I’m still me. I won’t pretend I don’t want this and I won’t pretend I don’t know what it might do. We’re looking at each other and we see everything we want, and everything we need, and everything we shouldn’t be doing.
 

Earlier we stepped over a line and we shouldn’t have. We should stop, but we don’t. Instead we’re going to keep on walking right past the line as if we didn’t see it.

“No,” I finally whisper, giving into my desire over my rationality, and that’s all he needs.

He yanks me down hard while thrusting up into me and makes me scream just like he promised while I fall in love with him a little more.

7

A phone ringing jolts me out of a deep sleep the next morning.

Well, afternoon technically, as the time on my phone when I pick it up indicates it’s twelve-thirty. Seeing it’s Nathan, and Benedict continues sleeping soundly next to me, I slip out of the bed and into the bathroom before answering.

“Hey.”

“Hey baby. Did I wake you?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s okay though. How was your trip? You didn’t text me.”

He yawns, the sound loud enough I need to move the phone away from my ear until he’s done. “Exhausting. I didn’t get much sleep. Sorry I didn’t say goodbye yesterday, I didn’t want to wake you up. How was your day?”

“Oh, um, it was okay.”

My own statement makes me wince, especially when he doesn’t say anything right back, as if he’s trying to find something in my voice. Which, of course, he does because we just know each other too fucking well.