Memoirs of a Wild Child (15 page)

My hand involuntarily moved to start twirling my hair around my fingers at the sight of his body in the soft denim shirt he was wearing underneath. I watched as he made his way into the kitchen before turning to look at me, smiling. “Come and sit here and talk to me.” He gestured to the stools at the breakfast bar and my breath caught in my throat when he smiled. I couldn’t quite believe this was happening, but it felt good already.

I sat at the bar and sipped my wine, Ben rolled up the long sleeves of his shirt, revealing those beautiful forearms, before starting to cook for us.

It was so easy. Usually when you go on a first date with someone, even for me, it can be quite awkward at first. I say even for me because let’s be honest, when I dated back then, it was purely for sex. So the ‘getting to know each other’ part of things wasn’t exactly imperative, but it was still usually awkward. Ben and I didn’t have that, though. We just talked and laughed as we had always been able to. We spent a certain amount of time gossiping and catching up on what we had missed in each other’s lives, but I noticed that neither of us talked much about our love lives.

I had never been ashamed of my promiscuity. It was who I was, and I liked it, people knew that about me and accepted me for it, the only people who probably didn’t know, were my parents, and Rosie’s. But still, I seemed to have a block stopping me from telling Ben about all the men I’ve fucked and the things I had done, and he didn’t tell me about any women in his life either. Despite being friends for years, and knowing each other well enough to know there had been a number of people for both of us, neither of us went there. That was the first thing that was different between us when it came to talking, the first thing that made this feel like a date instead of catch-up between friends.

There were also, the looks. When we made eye contact, something happened, something new. I had looked at Ben thousands of times, I had seen his feelings for me in his eyes on every single one of those times, but that night, it was different. There was desire in them, real raw animalistic hunger, and I knew I was looking back at him in the same way, I couldn’t help it.

We sat at the dining table, listening to music and eating the delicious meal of lemon and thyme chicken with steamed vegetables and new potatoes. We drank wine, talked more and laughed almost constantly, while candles flickered around us, creating an ambiance that only intensified my need for him.

As we finished our desserts, quiet fell between us. The distraction of the meal was gone now, and there was nothing more to stop us getting comfortable, getting closer and getting naked, and for the first time since Joshua, I was terrified.

Once Ben and I went there, there would be no going back. Our friendship would never be the same, and if this relationship thing didn’t work out, I’d lose him. I frowned as I realised that I was actually contemplating a relationship. It had never happened to me before; not like this anyway.

“What’s wrong?” Ben asked, looking amused at the expression on my face. I opened my mouth to speak before realising I didn’t know what to say, but I didn’t need to say anything. Ben moved his hand across the table to take hold of mine. I swallowed hard at the contact and looked down at his thumb, gently, slowly stroking the skin on the back of my hand. “Pippa, tonight has been perfect. I don’t know what happens next, but don’t worry; it’s me.”

I took a deep breath as the gravity of his words sunk in. It was him, Ben. The one man in the world, except for my dad, who valued me above everything and everyone else. Nothing that I have ever done or said had ever made him falter in his feelings for me. I smiled, before looking up at him once more, feeling the connection between us stronger than ever as he returned my gaze, and then stood up.

Ben guided me over towards the sofa before pouring us both another glass of wine. He sat next to me, his body turned into mine and looked into my eyes. I was turned towards him, my knees drawn up onto the sofa. Ben lifted his arm onto the back of the sofa, stretching it out towards me and taking some of my hair between his fingers. He ran his hand down my long black hair softly before smiling and letting out a sigh.

“This hair,” he shook his head. “That’s what did it you know?” I tilted my head to the side, encouraging him to keep talking, keep stroking. “Your hair was the first thing I ever noticed about you, It’s like satin.”

I looked into his eyes, curious. “That’s what my dad always says about my mum’s hair,” I said, surprised, and a little dubious. Had I told him that? Was this a line?

“No way, really?” Ben’s eyes lit up, innocent and happy at the coincidence. “That’s funny,” he said, a little less animated as he let the strands drop from his fingers. He raised his gaze to look at me, his eyes piercing me, slicing me open even. My heart pounded in my chest at the sight of the intensity in his eyes. I wanted him. Badly.

I raised my hand to his chest, taking a gentle hold on the soft denim of his shirt and encouraging him towards me. He smiled briefly before hesitating, “Pip,” he started before I interrupted.

“Just bloody kiss me.”

As his soft lips touched mine, gently at first, I let out a small whimper. It only encouraged Ben as he moved forward, teasing my lips apart before finding my tongue with his. I opened my mouth a little more, allowing him to take what he wanted as he covered my mouth with his. Devouring me as the connection between us built, intensifying with every gasp, every moan, every brush of his tongue against mine, Ben pushed forward, he was slow but commanding as he guided me onto my back and settled above me.

My hand finally left his chest and found his bicep, it flexed as he held himself above me. He broke away from my lips, kissing me along my jawline to my chin, and down my neck as I tipped my head back to give him the access he needed.

I ran my hands down his sides, pulling at his shirt as he moved to rest between my legs, pressing against me with a roll of his hips and making me release a louder moan than those that had come before.

Ben groaned as I moved my hands further down his body, finding his arse and squeezing through his jeans, encouraging him to press against me more, harder.

“Pip,” he sighed, and I groaned, turning my head to search for his lips. I had never been so lost in a man, so needy. “No, Pippa, we can’t do this.” Ben’s mouth covered mine again, and he rolled his hips against me once more, I gasped, ignoring his breathless words.

My hands came up to his muscular shoulder blades as I arched my back, pressing my chest into his, making him break our kiss and press his forehead to mine, breathing heavily.

“Not like this,” he whispered, “not tonight.”

My body relaxed back down to the sofa and Ben held himself above me, looking down with a mixture of frustration and lust in his eyes.

“It’s fine Ben; I want this.” I implored, but he shook his head and moved to sit back on his heels. I sat up, confused. “I thought this was what you had always wanted,” I said, looking into eyes.

“Pippa, YOU are what I’ve always wanted, not just sex with you,” Ben said, lifting my dropped chin with his hand and looking into my eyes. “I don’t want to be like all the rest. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right, and I’m treating you with the respect you deserve.” He spoke slowly and softly, looking in my eyes the whole time, and holding my gaze until he was sure I understood.

When the gravity of his words sunk in, I inhaled before tears stung my eyes; not enough to fall, but enough to prompt Ben to kiss me again. He loved me, he always had and now that he had me, he wanted to make sure that this was different to everything I’d had before.

I hadn’t always respected myself, and the men I had allowed into my life respected me even less. Sex was always on a plate with me, and they knew that. It wasn’t a problem, it was how I had chosen to live my life, so I had no complaints. But now, I was changed, I was different, and Ben was the start of something new.

When I woke up in Thailand the day after my drink was spiked, I had made a decision to make some changes in my life. Ben didn’t know that, as far as he was concerned, I was the same old promiscuous Pip that he had known for years. Yet still, he saw me as more, as someone worthy of his time and his respect, someone worthy of his love.

I didn’t know until that moment that I had longed, for someone to look at me that way, and I don’t think I really realised until that moment that Ben always had. I knew of his feelings for me, but I thought he just saw me as a hottie and wanted to get in my pants. Right there and then, on that sofa in his immaculate living room, I finally realised that I was truly worthy of being loved, and capable of loving someone in return.

After a bit more kissing on the sofa, both Ben and I decided it was too tempting. I was flying out to Portugal the following day to see my parents and didn’t know what would happen when I came back and went home to London. Ben offered to take me to the airport, and I took him up on the offer. He walked me back to my childhood home, holding my hand the whole way there. When we reached the front door, he leant in and kissed me again, gently this time but my stomach clenched just as intensely as it had on the sofa.

“Don’t go meeting some sexy, Portuguese dude,” Ben said against my lips before I felt his mouth curve into a smile, and I laughed. For once, I had absolutely no intention of meeting anyone else, I hadn’t even gone yet and already couldn’t wait to get back. He kissed me again, and then rubbed his hands up and down my arms. “You’re freezing, get some rest, and I’ll see you in…” He looked at his watch and groaned, curving his lips in an Elvis Presley sort of way. “Five hours.”

“I can get a taxi, you know,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t just say, ‘okay then’.

“No, you cannot,” he tilted his head and looked at me, a serious authoritarian look in his eyes. “I need to remind you again in the morning what you’ll be missing.” I laughed, but he didn’t, not at first anyway, but he soon smiled and winked at me.

I wanted him to come inside, never in my life had I wanted so badly to be with someone; and I didn’t mean sex, I just didn’t want to be apart from him. The thought of two weeks in the Algarve was suddenly unbearable.

I kissed Ben goodnight and let myself into my parents’ empty house; it felt cold, and it took everything that I had not to open the door again and call him back to me. I kicked off my boots and threw my coat on the stairs. I fetched a glass of water from the kitchen before making my way upstairs, by the time I had pulled off my jeans and top, my phone had beeped on the bed with a text message.

‘four hours, forty minutes…’

I smiled at the simplicity of it. There was no meaningless declaration of desire, no ‘wordy’ outpouring of feelings, just a simple four words that told me he was counting down until he could see me again. And the feeling was totally mutual.

I pulled on my onesie and climbed into bed; staring at the ceiling in the dark. As I tried to get to sleep, my mind ran over the evening’s events. Heat burned in my cheeks and between my legs as I recalled the feeling of his kiss, the taste of him. I closed my eyes and remembered the smell of his aftershave filling my nostrils as I had gasped underneath him, the feel of the muscles in his back, tensing and flexing, as he had rolled his hips into me. I bit my lip at the memory of his hard body pressed against mine. Ben was right, we shouldn’t rush into sex with each other, but hey, there was nothing to say I couldn’t rush into sex with myself, right?

Ben picked me up at six am as planned. I smiled when he squinted at me through tired eyes and leant in to kiss me briefly, before leaning down to pick up my bags and take them to his car. I had known him so long, so it shouldn’t have been surprising to me, but it was so comfortable.

We were both tired, and as a result, fairly quiet on the drive to Manchester airport but the moments of eye contact, the genuine happy smiles and every time Ben reached over and took my hand throughout the journey made it, stupidly, one of the best mornings of my life.

No man had ever made me feel that way. I had woken up in penthouse suites the world over; I had been with rock stars, multi-millionaires, male models, footballers and even a royal! Really! But not one of them had ever made me feel like I was something to be treasured; until Ben.

I told Ben to kick me out at the drop off point so that he didn’t have to mess around with parking, but he refused. “I’m not going to see you for at least two weeks, Pip, I’m making the most of this,” he said seriously, while he searched for a parking space.

He carried my bag in one hand and held my hand with the other as we walked to the terminal. I checked in, and we decided to get some breakfast before I went through to departures.

“Coffee, smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel and a muffin, how did I do?” Ben asked sheepishly, as he placed the tray in front of me; I challenged him to choose my breakfast for me while I found us a seat.

“Bloody brilliantly, that’s annoying.” I joked as I inspected the feast.

Ben fist pumped victoriously, and I laughed as he sat down, triumphant and placed his bacon sandwich on the table.

I took a bite of my bagel and wiggled in my chair excitedly. It’s like a tick, whenever I eat food that I like, I sort of, dance. I can’t help it, and don’t realise I’m doing it half the time. Rosie is so used to it that she never even responds anymore, but even to this day, Ben laughs every time.

“You still do your food dance, then?” Ben asked, stifling a laugh as I stopped mid-chew and wrinkled my nose before giggling, and shrugging my shoulders. “You’re so cute at times, Carvalho.” Ben shook his head and took another bite of his sandwich, wiggling in his seat and making me cackle, loudly.