Ruin (9 page)

I wiggled backward and tugged on the band of his shorts. "These have to go."

"Yes, ma'am." He lifted his hips, and I slid the shorts off and threw them away. I had no idea where they landed because I was too intent on looking at his cock.

"Your turn," he said.

"Um...huh?"

He had to point at my pajama shorts before I realized what he was talking about. I was too intent on his magnificent appendage to think straight.

I slipped out of my shorts and went to climb back on the bed, but he put up his hand to stop me. He was going to throw me out
now
?

But he didn't tell me to leave. He turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow and looked at me. Actually, it was more like consumed me. His gaze raked over my body, hot and intense. It made me blush all over. I was glad for the poor lighting so he couldn't see.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "Perfect."

My insides flipped. My blood burned. It was like I was being lit up from the inside.

He put out his hand. "Come here."

I nestled beside him on the bed. We stretched out, length to length, my breasts pillowed against his hard chest. His cock pulsed against my thigh.

"I want to take it slow," he said, nuzzling my throat. "I want to savor you. But I don't know if I have the willpower."

I smiled as he found my ticklish spot with his tongue. "We can always do it twice."

"Mmmm. Now that idea I like."

He licked my jaw, my throat, down to my breast. I arched my back and ran my hands through his hair, relishing the feel of his hot mouth as it closed over my nipple. His hand stroked the curve of my waist and hip, down my thigh. I groaned low in my throat and cradled his head, holding him at my breast.

"So beautiful," he murmured against my skin. "So—"

"Do
not
say perfect."

I felt his lips curve into a smile. "If the glass slipper fits, Snow White, it's not my fault."

"It's not Snow White, it's—" Oh my! Forget damned fairy tales. His fingers cupped my sex, his palm rubbing against the sensitive nub. Speaking and thinking at the same time had just become impossible.

I moaned low in my chest, and he kissed me there, never taking his hand away. He caressed my folds, gently exploring and teasing, edging closer to my opening yet not going in.

Damn it.

I pushed my hips up against his hand, but he still refused. He kissed a trail down to my navel, lowering his body against mine. His cock nudged my legs, just above my knees. I gently trapped it.

His mouth stilled. He sucked air between his teeth. "Unfair," he said.

"You started it."

His hand resumed its rhythm of rubbing, then suddenly he pushed a finger inside. Pleasure spiked through my body. "Is that what you want?" he murmured.

"Yessssss."

That thick, wonderful finger slid in and out of me. I was so slick for him, so hot and ready.

Between his mouth and his hand, I was ready to combust. I gripped his shoulders, marveling at their size. The muscles rippled as he adjusted his position. Raw power flowed through him, and yet he was as gentle with me as if I were a snowflake.

The finger worked some magic down there. My breathing quickened. My heart raced. It felt damned good, but I wanted something else. I wanted all of him.

"Enter me," I begged.

"Not yet."

He removed the finger. I groaned with the loss, even though I was giddy with anticipation for what came next.

But it wasn't what I expected. He descended further down my body until his mouth hovered over my sex. I thought I was already hot enough there, but his breath warmed me more.

His first lick took my breath away.

This guy knew what he was doing with his tongue. He knew when I was close, knew when to back away and let me savor the sensations, just long enough before I went mad with need. For someone who hadn't had sex in a while, he was goddamned amazing.

The pressure built inside, simmering at first, then rising, throbbing until I was at boiling point. I clenched the sheets in my fists, tried to stave off the inevitable, make it last longer, but it was no use. I hovered on the brink for barely a moment, before plunging over the other side.

I bit my lip to stop from crying out, but that didn't work either. My gasping cry echoed in my ears.

And then his tongue was gone and so was he.

I half sat up, afraid he'd changed his mind. But he was opening his wallet. He pulled out a condom and slipped it on.

Hey, I wanted to do that
. The words never left my brain.

He came back to the bed and lay full length above me, pushing himself up by his elbows so as not to crush me. Then his cock was there. Inside. There was little resistance. I wanted this man. Wanted to feel him, be taken by him, possess him. He filled me completely. When he was all the way in, he groaned with such deep satisfaction that I thought he'd just lie there and savor it.

But my body was still taut, quivering with the need to come harder. I rocked my hips, dug my hands through his hair. He looked down at me. It was dark, but my eyes had adjusted enough that I could see the subtle changes that deep desire had brought. The fullness of his parted lips, the slight distortion of his features, and those eyes, swimming with wonder and emotions too complicated to fathom.

I pressed my hand in that dip where buttock met hip. His skin was smooth, hot. I wanted to tell him he felt good, amazing, but I knew my voice wouldn't work so I didn't try. I just looked at him, locked my gaze onto his, and hoped he could see it in my eyes.

He kissed me. I could taste myself on his mouth. Then all I could taste was him. Ben.

Delicious.

His thrusts quickened, deepened. His breaths mingled with mine. My heart pounded out a rapid drumbeat and everything inside me tensed. I felt like my whole body was a tightly bound ball of twine. All it needed was someone to take the end and I'd be undone.

One thrust, two, three. He groaned against my mouth, a low, base sound that called to something primal in me. The pressure rose again, a huge swell that filled me completely, pushed me to my utter limit.

I folded him in my arms, held him and lifted my hips to meet his final thrust. He came with a body shuddering climax that broke my banks. Sensations consumed me. I trembled with the sheer power of them.

He removed the condom, and we lay together side by side, a tangle of arms and legs. I could feel his heart hammering against my breasts. My own heart matched the beat, more regular now but no less powerful.

"You okay?" he asked after a moment.

"Perfect."

He laughed softly. "Told you so."

I smiled into his throat and closed my eyes. "That was..." Thinking and speaking at the same time was too difficult, so I gave up

"Yeah," he said, his fingers lazily stroking my thigh.

I wanted to say 'See, what's so wrong about that?', but I didn't want to remind him that he'd not planned on this. I didn't want him to regret it.

"When I came into your room," I said instead, "you were talking in your sleep."

His fingers paused. "Was I?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "I don't want to ruin this."

I didn't push him. He was right. It wasn't the right moment, but the memory of his plaintive cries burrowed deep, and I couldn't shake them.

We must have drifted off to sleep because when I opened my eyes some time later, light edged the curtains. The room was brighter and I could see him clearly. He was watching me. In the moment before he realized I was awake, his eyes were unguarded. What I saw in them rocked me. The sadness and longing ran so deep that it seemed endless.

Then he blinked, and his eyes cleared. It was as if he'd pulled down the shutters so no one could see through the windows. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey."

He kissed the top of my head and removed his arms. "I didn't want to wake you, but I should go and get some breakfast. There's a lot to do."

And so little time in which to do it. So little time before we said goodbye.

He got up and I watched him dress and grab a towel hanging over a chair near the door.

"Ben," I said before he could leave.

He looked at me, yet not quite
at
me. "Yes?"

"Do you regret it?"

He set down the towel and came to sit on the bed. He tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled gently. "No. There's no way I could regret that. Ever."

"Then why are you sad?"

He heaved a sigh. "Because it's over."

"It doesn't have to be." I knew my eyes were brimming with tears, just like my heart. One blink, one movement, and they'd overflow. "I know you're leaving today, but I can give you my number. If you're ever in Maryland, you could call me."

"No, Kate." He stood again and put a few feet of space between us. "I told you we're wrong for each other and that's got nothing to do with where either of us live."

I sat up. The sheet puddled at my hips, exposing my breasts. I didn't cover them up. "Why are we wrong? You've given me no explanation."

"I'm not a good guy, Kate."

"Don't be ridiculous. You are. If the way you've acted toward me and everyone you've met here doesn't prove that, then I don't know what does."

He shook his head and headed for the door. "I'm not the person you want me to be. I'm not the sort of guy you deserve." He left before I could counter that with another argument.

But the truth was, how could I argue with him when I didn't know all the facts? It was frustrating in the extreme.

I flopped back on the bed and listened to the old pipes bang and groan as he showered in the bathroom down the hall. I scrubbed my tears away, angry with myself for being a sap. With a sigh, I finally got up and returned to Jane's room. She lay in bed, watching me.

"Good night?" she asked.

"Yes," I snapped, sitting down heavily on the bed. "Fucking great. Awesome. Amazing. I hate him."

She gave me a pitying look. "You always knew he was leaving today."

It wasn't that. I shook my head, trying to think of how to explain something I didn't really understand myself. I looked to the ceiling for inspiration, but there was nothing there and soon my vision clouded anyway. My tears seeped from the corners of my eyes and trickled down my cheeks.

Jane sat beside me and put her arm around my shoulders. She didn't say anything and that was perfect.

Perfect.

Fucking goddamn Winter. I'd thought this place a boring backwater, but now I was beginning to think it was somehow the reason behind Ben's rejection of me. It was ruining everything.

***

I hardly saw Ben all morning. He worked in the bathroom, scrubbing mold, so it was easy to avoid him. I worked on Mrs. M instead. Jane and I found her in the drawing room, a book in her lap. We'd made a cup of tea and Jane poured. I offered her a cookie.

"You're here to petition me, are you?" she said, taking the cookie.

I was taken aback by her sharp observation, but Jane wasn't. "We could get so much done around here if Ben stayed a little longer," she said.

"And all he'd need is food and board," I added. "Mom will—"

Jane pinched me, and I shut up. I guess Mrs. M would be less inclined to accept help if it was spoken about openly. No matter. She didn't need to know where the extra food was coming from. But first, we needed to get her to agree.

"It doesn't have to be open-ended," Jane said. "We could agree on a timeframe that suits him and us and stick to it."

"You seem quite set on the idea," Mrs. M said. She sipped her tea and gazed out the window. She didn't seem all there this morning. It was as if her mind was elsewhere.

"I am," Jane said. "This place needs a lot of work. If he could just make a small dent in the load over a few weeks, it would be something."

"It is looking a little tired of late."

Jane and I exchanged glances. Mrs. M hadn't said 'no' yet. She even sounded receptive. "I can't do it all on my own, Gran."

Mrs. M sipped as if she had all the time in the world.

I rubbed my palms down my thighs in an attempt to muster some patience. "The bus leaves in two hours."

She turned to me, her eyes hard. "You can't expect me to know anything about buses, Kathryn Bell. Such an unhealthy, ignoble mode of transportation."

I bit my lip. I really did need to learn when to shut up. She didn't seem to respond to my manner of persuasion. Maybe my desperation was coming through too strongly, but I couldn't help it. I felt every tick of the clock like a hammer blow to my stomach.

"Well, Gran?"

"Set out a fourth cup," Mrs. M said.

Jane and I gasped. I picked up the teapot, but my hands shook so much I probably would have spilled tea everywhere.

"Not you, Kathryn Bell," Mrs. M said. "You don't know how to pour a proper cup. Jane will do it. You can go and fetch Mr. Parker instead."

I practically ran out of the drawing room and up the stairs. "Ben!" I cried before I'd reached the bathroom.

He frowned down at me from the ladder where he'd been scrubbing the cornice.

"Everything all right?"

"Ben, come into the drawing room. Mrs. M wants to talk to you."

He descended the ladder. "About what?"

"About staying."

He stared at me. "You got her to agree to let me stay longer?"

"I don't know. Maybe. She's cagey. Just...hurry up! Don't keep her waiting."

He washed his hands and wiped them on a towel. And because I was still giddy with hope, I kissed him hard on the lips. He kissed me back, groaning. He caught me around my waist...and set me aside.

"Kate...no more. Okay?" He strode off, not giving me a chance to protest. I stared after him, wondering how the hell I was going to get through to him.

At least I had longer now. Maybe.

Downstairs, Mrs. M ordered Jane and I to leave Ben alone with her. Jane took my hand and made sure I followed her out to the garden where we'd both been pulling out weeds earlier.

"I wasn't going to listen in," I protested, picking up the gardening gloves that were a size too big for me.