Seduced by a Shifter (10 page)

“Ah. I have. It’s been a while.”

“Me too.” Willow murmured. “I used to until Mom realized I had an interest and some talent in dance. Then my weekends became too crazy. Dad still goes. At least, he used to.”

Ben reached out and twined his fingers with hers, resting their hands on her left thigh. “I’m sure he still does. What about your mom?”

Her fingers flexed. “She’s dead.”

“Ah hell, Will. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

She turned her head and studied his face, not finding it a hardship in the least. The man was breathtakingly handsome and those gorgeous eyes of his always seemed to be lit with something, whether humor, curiosity, heat, or like now, sympathy. His masculinity and sex appeal was simply icing on the cake.

“Don’t be sorry, Ben. You didn’t know.” She squeezed his hand once, then lifted it purposely to the middle of the bench seat, untangling their fingers. Returning her gaze back to the nondescript building, and, unable to hide the hurt, said, “Besides, my mother was a selfish woman who was never pleased and ended up drinking herself to death.”

His soft sigh filled the cab of the truck, his scent a dark and decadent treat. “Methinks you have mommy issues.”

She choked out a laugh that sounded more like a sob and went absolutely still.

His hands were gentle but inexorable as he pulled her around t
o face him. “I think”—he trailed one finger down her nose to her mouth, his eyes holding a fierce light when she parted her lips—“it’s time for Willow to be pleased.”

Her heart was so loud in her ears at the sensual remark that it might as well be pounding outside her chest.

His teeth flashed in his face, a happy grin that confused her. “Perfect timing.” Then he was gone.

She’d been unconsciously leaning toward him, and would have fallen face first on the place his butt had been only a nanosecond ago if her seat belt hadn’t caught her. Grumbling at Ben’s strange exit, she barely clicked the clasp free when he opened her door.

“The first phase of pleasing Willow. Join me, won’t you?”

Startled, she gave him a wide-eyed stare. “Here?”

“Definitely. Don’t you hear it?”

Now that she was breathing a little easier, she realized it hadn’t been her heart thudding in her ears. It was the music from inside the church.

She shot him a suspicious glance. “What’s going on?”

“Sounds like music to me.” He reached for the ladder, holding it easily in one hand, and reached for hers with the other.

“Hmmm.” But she got out and shut her door, accepting Ben’s wiggling fingers.

He led her to one of the glass doors, releasing her hand to open the door for her before she could do so.

Who said chivalry was dead?

Inside they crossed a brightly lit foyer and into another set of doors where Ben stopped to lay the ladder against an inner wall. Willow shrugged off her coat, which Ben took from her, and peered around the dim interior. It was a large space, lined with chairs in long, neat rows from the back of the room to within several feet of the stage at the front. A stage where a woman was dancing.

Ben tugged her forward. “That’s Rose,” he whispered in her ear.

Moments later, two girls stepped out. All three were dressed in long, airy pants and matching tops. The effect was feminine and graceful, their smooth movements only adding to the beauty of the display. Rose’s long white hair floated and spun like a banner as she twirled, her timeless face marked with joy as she lifted her arms high. The younger girls, probably in their early teens, didn’t have quite the grace as the older woman, but Willow saw what was most important. Their love for dancing.

It was fun. For all of them.

The first song slipped seamlessly into another and Willow, entranced, began to sway, her feet subtly mimicking the dancers’ steps. It wasn’t until the music stopped and she caught Ben grinning at her from the corner of her eye. He was five feet away. One of them had moved. “What?”

That blasted grin only grew wider. “You were dancing.”

Hard to deny that when her knees and elbows were bent out, her hands together, and her body held at a soft angle. Lips pursed she straightened. “Bite me.”

His grin only turned dark and dangerous. “Plan on it.”

Jerking her attention back to the stage, Willow saw Rose speak quietly to the younger girls before stepping to the edge of the stage where she sat, swinging her legs over so that Ben could help her to the floor. “You’re such a dear, thank you, Bennie.” She cupped one cheek and pressed her lips to his other one.

The nickname surprised Willow, but Ben took it in stride, as he did the easy affection. “Anything for you, Miss Rose.”

Moving close, he placed a hand low on Willow’s spine. “Willow, this is Rose Willcox. She was my second-grade and fifth-grade teacher.”

Willow’s brows shot up. “You taught two grades?”

Rose’s smile was full of gentle patience. “I’m working my way back down now. This was my first year teaching kindergarten and I have to say, the older kids were much easier. Are you new to town, dear? I don’t recognize you.”

The question was filled with keen interest and Willow thought,
ah, everyone in town doesn’t know who I am.

“No, ma’am. I’m just visiting for a while.”

“You are most welcome.”

“Thank you.”

Rose’s head tilted. “You dance?”

Willow’s rapid “no” coincided with Ben’s “yes.”

Willow snapped her eyes to his and behind a fake smile gritted out, “Ben.”

Ben shot her a cocky and very real smile in retaliation. He seemed to be on the edge of laughing. “Willow.”

Rose raised a brow, clearly bemused by the two of them.

“I used to,” Willow finally, and softly, admitted. “But I, ah, hurt my knee and don’t anymore.”

Rose lifted her hand and touched just the fingertips to the underside of Willow’s chin. “Don’t ever give up what you love. It might seem an impossible task, but if you don’t have what you truly love in your life, well, then, that’s not really living, is it?”

“Ah.” The way Rose’s lips curled into a secretive smile made Willow want to squirm. “I guess not.”

Another squirmy moment passed before Rose nodded and turned her attention back to Ben. “The boys are looking forward to Tuesday.”

“So am I. Just make sure they know to bring warm clothing. Layers are best.”

A small nod of her white head. “They know but I’ll remind them. It was a pleasure meeting you, Willow.”

“You too, Miss Rose.” Because despite the woman’s wacky words, Willow did enjoy their brief encounter.

And loved the music.

Curiosity rode her hard, but she kept a lid on it until she hopped in Ben’s truck. “So whatcha doing Tuesday night?”

“No big. Just some ice hockey.” Ben started the truck and drove out of the lot. It had grown full dark, minus the glow of a nearly full moon, and the blue lights from the dashboard played over his features.

“Ice hockey? For kindergarteners?”

“Never too soon to learn.”

“Hmmm.” Not recalling a skating rink on the Tess Tour, she asked, “There’s a skating rink?”

“No, but the town’s voting next month on it, so we make do. There’s a decent spot of flat land behind the go-kart place. Spray it with water, wait for it to freeze, and
voilà
. Instant skating rink.” His gaze briefly left the road to look at her. “You skate?”

She wasn’t going to be diverted by the question. She’d seen the way his lips had firmed, the infinitesimal tightening of his hands on the steering wheel. “A couple times when I was a kid. Why does the lack of a rink bother you?”

This time he looked surprised when he glanced at her, but he didn’t answer. Not right away. He turned up the winding road to the cabins. “Last year a bunch of kids were skating on a frozen pond. But it wasn’t frozen through. Three fell in. One on top of each other. The first was trapped under the ice until the others were pulled free.”

“Oh, God.”

Another look. This one suppressed anger. “He made it. They all did. But it was touch-and-go there for a long time, especially when Seth got pneumonia. Now all the ponds are off limits, but I damn well know kids still sneak out on them, so I’m pushing for the rink.” He paused, eyes straight ahead. “And we’ll get it.”

“Of course you will.” Willow couldn’t imagine otherwise.

“You danced.” Ben stated after several minutes, evidently setting aside the topic of the rink. “Your knee okay? Hip?”

“Ah.” She stretched out a leg, easy in the bench seat of the truck as it was set to accommodate Ben’s long legs. “No. I’m good.”

“You liked it.”

Yeah, she did. As they pulled to a stop in front of her cabin she told him so.

“Now I’m pleased.”

“I thought it was about pleasing me.” Willow could have slapped a hand over her mouth as the unbidden comment popped free.

He clicked free his seat belt and turned toward her, leaning back against his door. Lounging, waiting, he watched her. “It is. Tell me, Will. What else can I do to please you?”

Holy smokes! The temperature in the truck shot up about a thousand degrees. She opened her mouth, closed it. “The pool thing is good.”

A small smile played around his lips. “All right. I’ll pick you up at five tomorrow. I’ll take you out to Vince’s place for dinner first. That work?”

“Sure.” That wasn’t a squeak, was it?

“Anything else?”

Nothing that I can say out loud.
“I think that’s about it.”
And a few hundred kisses? Those hands all over my naked body?

One brow winged up. “Really?” He perused her hot face, inching slowly forward. “I have a suggestion, then.”

Oh boy
. “You do?” Definite squeak this time.

“Oh yeah.” Another inch forward, as if he didn’t want to startle her. “It involves a repeat of yesterday.”

Butterflies flew in dizzy delight in her stomach, her breathing catching up to the speeding of her heart. “It does?”

“Most definitely.” He traced her lips with the pad of one finger, seemingly mesmerized as they parted slightly under his touch. “I love your mouth.”

Desire quickened, a sharp need that had her aching for a more intimate touch. “It’s nothing special.”

Something fierce and dark glowed in his eyes. “I beg to differ. But let’s try a test.”

He pressed his lips to hers, her face cupped in one of his hands. Willow felt the tip of tongue lick lightly against her mouth, teasing her senses. “Heavenly,” he murmured against her lips.

“Heavenly,” she agreed, eyes closed to savor the tender moment. Then he kissed her again, more demanding this time, his tongue plunging deep, licking the sensitive lining of her cheeks and tangling with hers. It was wet and wild, and becoming wilder still.

His hands shifted to her shoulders, edging her coat off her shoulders and down over her arms. Once freed, she fisted her hands to the front of his shirt, her head tilted back in surrender. Lust bloomed, a scorching greed so strong she felt her bones melt.

Ben
, she thought, her soft moan a muted whisper of his name.

Whether he’d scooped her up or she’d jumped him, Willow didn’t know. She just suddenly found herself spread over Ben’s thighs, her legs straddling him so that the very core of her was pressed against the bulge in his jeans.

With a soft sound of approval he possessed her lips again, one hand wrapped around the back of her head, the other pressing over her butt, holding her too him as if she might wiggle free any moment.

Not a chance in hell.

He slayed her. Simply slayed her. Her mind and her body. Most especially her body. Her skin felt too tight, her flesh burning her through. He pressed open-mouthed kisses down her jaw to suckle the wildly beating pulse at her throat and sigh escaped. She buried a hand in his thick hair, holding him as used his tongue to drive her senseless.

At least in her head. Her body, on the other hand, was a mass of raw nerve endings, her senses on overload. She would have fallen if she hadn’t been sitting, or kneeling, straddling muscled thighs that bunched under hers.

Thighs that led to lean hips. which fed into the thick ridge currently pulsing insistently between her own thighs.

Feeling the strength and size of him under her hands and under her spread legs made all her female parts weep with desire, her nipples beg not to be left out. She rubbed her torso against his chest, seeking relief from breasts swollen with need. As if understanding, Ben curved a hand over the lush swell of one breast.

Willow froze and shivered at the same time, falling into his heated gaze, locked on hers as if seeking her every reaction to his touch. Amber ringed the magnificent bronze once again.

Nipping at her lips, Ben flicked his thumb across one taut peak. “You like that?” His voice was a low rasp in her ear. Then he did something amazing at her neck that had her tilting her head for better access. “Now imagine how much more you’ll feel without the clothes.”

Shuddering at the wanton need that speared her body, Willow closed her eyes. “Yes, please.”

Ben chuckled softly at the soft demand. He released her breast, only to tunnel his hand under the edge of her sweater to sweep up her ribcage. When he encountered her bra, he only nudged it up so he could lay claim to the silky smooth mound.

“Look at you,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bud.

Then his lips came down to lave her bared breast, his tongue liquid heat as he licked her nipple with lazy strokes. His mouth opened, suckling her in, and her eyes nearly rolled right into the back of her head. The muscles in her tummy and legs squeezed against the onslaught of sensations. Each tug of his lips, every lick of his rough tongue seemed to wring an answering surge of wetness and unbelievable ache from between her thighs.

“And so damn responsive.” Ben seemed in awe.

“Ben.” His name fell from her lips in a husky whisper as he turned to pay homage to her neglected breast, but before the exquisite contact was made he switched gears and yanked her bra and sweater down, lifting and then depositing her neatly in the passenger seat.

To say she was confused was an understatement. She blinked owlishly about the cab, wondering what the heck happened. It was then she noticed the thick fog on all the windows, cocooning them in a world of their own, and a temporary one at that, as a loud rap on the driver side window testified.

Her “oh, crap,” was drowned out by Ben’s snarled, “Just a minute.”

Alarmed, she checked her clothes and jammed a trembling hand through her hair.

She looked up when Ben clasped her free hand, his fingers tangling in hers. “You okay?” His eyes, reverted fully back to bronze fire, narrowed in concern.

Was she okay? Her face flamed and she turned away. She’d just behaved in an absolutely unorthodox fashion, groping and fondling and, well, practically having sex in a truck! In a place where anyone could see or even come upon them at any second, which, based on that window knock, they had. And if that someone, no doubt Rome, had approached only minutes later—

Her cheeks grew hotter at the thought. “Maybe in a year or two.”

Eyes solemn, he curved a hand under her chin. “I like you, Will, and I want to be with you. I want to make love with you.”