Private Message (20 page)

"No, it's OK, I don't mind. Honestly I don't know what's going on with me and Ben."

He shows a small smile. "If you don't mind me saying, Tess, my son doesn't really 'date' as much as he 'entertains'. You seem like a very lovely and smart young woman, a young lady who would be good for my son. But I know how he goes through women, and I don't want to see that for you."

Wow. I have never met a father so honest about their own child, so honest and caring about someone else's child. I really like Jack. Ben is lucky to have such an awesome dad. "Thank you, Jack," I say. "I thought me and Ben had something, until we discovered that we knew one another in the not-so-pleasant past. When he brought me into the hospital that night, I didn't know who he was, I never saw a face. But it hurt me so bad to know that someone could just drop a beaten-up girl at the ER and just leave." I admit to him. I kind of hope he can voice some wise wisdom.

"My son, he had a tough adolescence. In London, he was expelled from three different schools for fights and a rotten attitude. He took the death of his mother very difficult; he was good at home and loved his baby sister, but outside he was a different person. He was shut off.

"When I was offered the job here and we moved to the States, I don't know… He just changed. He found his best mate and started a band. It was better than any therapy that he had ever received. Then he met Nicole in his senior year of high school, they were a good couple, even decided to go to college together. He was crazy about her and graduating college. And she cheats on him."

I nod, knowing parts of his story. "I know about Nicole and how they were supposed to get married. He also expressed his love for his mother and Caroline."

A warm smile spreads on his well-defined face. "Thank you, Tess. Just so you know, he doesn't tell anyone about his past or his family, he must have seen something special in you."

"Well, Jack, I see something special in him." And that's the last we speak of it. He finishes removing my stitches. It wasn't the most pleasant thing I have recently endured. But I'm happy to have them out.

It's still early and I have yet another day off work. I have enjoyed my time off to just paint, read and listen to music. I guess I became a hermit this week, but I enjoyed the company of my many book boyfriends. I feel pretty good so I just might try and go to my art class tonight. Depending on what we are doing, I might be able to participate.

I take a little nap before my evening class, but wake up an hour later hot and horny. This is new. I just woke up sweating and panting; even my panties are wet! Why am I like this? Oh. My dream.

Ben is in a band on stage. He is playing the bass and doing vocals, something you don't see much of; either it's the vocals alone or vocals and guitar. I am in the front row of a crowded bar room and there he is: tall, lean, muscles bulging in all the right spots. He's wearing nothing. Just his black and silver bass guitar, which is strategically covering his man parts. I feel like panicking. I don't want these other women to see him naked. He is for my eyes only. He is mine.

The other members of the band are fully clothed. Why is Ben the only naked one on the stage? He needs to get dressed; they can't see him. They start to play, his bass thumping, and I can feel its vibrations run up my calves, to my thighs and so on. Oh. He stares at me when he starts to sing, and his voice just about makes me come apart. I can't take my eyes off him. I know there are people all around me; they are starting to bounce around as the song begins to pick up pace. But I don't look at them. I keep my focus on the naked sex rock god in front of me on stage.

He stops singing actual lyrics and starts making moaning noises: the noises he made when we were making love. I don't want other people to hear those sounds. It's not right, it's private. He looks at me as he moans louder and he can tell I am upset. He looks to his right and left, to the other guys on stage with him, and nods for them to get lost. Now I am confused. He keeps strumming his bass, even though the rest of the band has left. He gives me his full panty-dropping smile when I nods in my direction. I look behind me to see what's going on and no one is in the room.

We are alone.

I cover my mouth in shock and appreciation, knowing now that no other women can see Ben. He is still strumming when he steps down off of the stage. Still strumming when he stops right in front of me, close enough to feel his hot sweet breath. I start to pant; I want this man more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life. I reach out to stop his fingers from gliding up and down the neck of the bass. I place my hand on the neck of the bass. I slowly and teasingly start to stroke it from top to bottom, his gaze never leaving mine. He licks his lips; obviously he is affected by my movement. I use my other hand to pick the strings of the bass, a slow and seductive beat, gradually increasing pace, just like my breathing.

When I look down, I am naked. Well, isn't that convenient? He takes the pick in his right hand and runs it from the tip of my chin, down my neck, over my chest and between my breasts. It gives me chills. I let go of his bass and lift the strap over his shoulder, removing the instrument from his body, revealing his amazing form. Dropping to his knees before me, he reaches for my left foot and lifts it slowly, allowing me to balance myself. He takes the pick and runs it from my heel, up my arch and to the tip of my big toe. This causes me to convulse, and the feeling strikes me between the thighs. Placing my foot back down, he does the same to my left foot.

He stands and walks back to the stage. I follow him and once he reaches the edge of the stage, he turns and stops. I put my hand on his chest and force him to sit on the edge of the stage. Sitting, he leans back and rests on his elbows, as if waiting for something. I straddle him and slowly lower myself onto his incredible length. His eyes widen in what I assume is surprise; I am shocked at myself for taking the lead. I don't move once I take him into me fully; I want to savor the amazing fullness of him. He doesn't move. I think he wants me to take control; and I want to. I want to take this man, and do whatever I want to please me. I start to lift slowly on my knees and until he almost comes out completely, then I slam back down on him. He groans loudly and holds my hips as he reclines all the way back until he is flat on his back.

Neither of us speaks. We are just two hot bodies and harsh breaths. He doesn't take his gaze off of me. I feel powerful and confident. I have never felt that way about my body or my sexual abilities. He doesn't seem to be complaining. I pick up my speed as he grips my hips hard. His touch just makes me want more.

Faster and harder, I ride him. Still no words. He sits up and grabs me around my waist; now we are sitting face to face. He holds the back of my head and starts to grind his hips to mine. I am on the verge of an explosive climax. And then the silent treatment ends.

"I love you, Tess."

And I wake up.

When I finally decide to crawl out of my bed late in the afternoon, I get a buzz on my intercom.

"Yeah?" I answer the buzz.

"Delivery for Miss Martin." I hear a young male's voice.

Thinking, I didn't order anything, hell I am going to have to ask my mom or James to help me out with rent this month. With all the lost time at work this past week. I don't like asking for help.

I tell him to come on up. When he reaches the door I am greeted with the largest most exquisite bouquet of pink peonies. I take them and the young man tells me to have a good day. I take my flowers back in and I notice a little blue envelope poking out, it reads:
Punky.

I open the pale blue paper and pull out a photograph.

Oh. Oh, I am going to cry.

It's the photo from the concert, but it's just of me and Ben. I know I have the original picture, but how did he get this? We both look happy. I turn over the photo to see a message from Ben:

Tess,

If I could offer you a reason, any reason at all for what happened I would. I don't know how we went from what we were to nothing at all. I understand your hurt over what happened three years ago, but I was a different person then. I have changed considerably. You have changed me. I can only hope that one day you can forgive me, because I will never forgive myself for losing you.

You have my heart. Forever.

Ben

There is no way I can focus, and we now know what happens when I get distracted in art class… I don't want to face Ms. S just yet, not while she knows I was/am seeing her own boyfriend's son. How and when did this involve so many people? And besides I can't seem to find my sketchbook anywhere.
Man, if I left it at Ben's…

I call Dave and see if the coffee shop needs an extra hand tonight. I need to occupy myself any way I can. If I don't I will go running to Ben and as much as I want to, I don't know what I would say.

"I am actually not working tonight, so I was planning on hitting up a club. Why don't you tag along with me?" I do need to get out, clear my head. Why not have a few drinks with my co-worker? It's not like he's asking me out on a date.

"Sure, why not," I say.

I can practically hear him smile. "Oh, this will be fun, baby doll! Why don't you meet me at Pearl at ten tonight."

I laugh at the nickname he gave me when we started working together two years ago. I can't believe we have never hung out. Now that I think about it, it's not like he hasn't tried. He often asked what I was doing after a shift, but I always told him I am not one to go out and party. I'm still not, but tonight I need to forget about Ben for a couple of hours. It's bad enough that he's invading my dreams now.

"Sounds great, Dave, see you then."

Now what to do with the rest of the day…

I grab my camera and head for Pike Place Market. I need some fresh fruit and that's the place to go. I love the feeling of the place, so real and full of life. You never know what you're going to find or see.

I snap shots of the rows of colorful produce, and of a young boy no older than three biting into an apple bigger than his hands. His eyes are wide with surprise; it's a perfect shot and it makes me giggle. The air is cool and crisp and feels amazing in my lungs. I just wander the market picking up apples, strawberries; eggplant, zucchini and bananas...
damn bananas the shit heads remind me of Ben's first visit to my place.