He fought against the urge to divulge all. His fear that Carly had something to do with Lisette’s disappearance. The conflict he felt over his wife, whom he still wasn’t ready to let go of. He’d never been able to do right by Olivia, and this new, insatiable lust for another woman seemed like an insult to her memory.
A memory that faded more every time he looked at Summer’s face. Gazing upon her, blue eyes flashing with pique, her chest rising and falling with pent-up emotion, Ben had to admit he’d never felt so alive. While the woman he had vowed to protect with his own life was lying cold and dead, because of him.
“I shouldn’t have said that I didn’t owe you anything,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “That all I wanted from you was sex.”
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, leaning her head back against the wall. “I can’t give you anything else. I can’t even give you that.”
He tried for humor. “Sure you can.”
The corner of her mouth quirked up, but she closed her eyes, shutting him out.
“I never thought you were a quitter.”
Her eyes flew open and her lips parted with astonishment.
“Or a coward,” he added.
“Do you have a death wish?” she asked softly.
“Yes,” he said, taking her by the upper arms. Maybe he was crazy, but he was dying for her to get physical with him. Anything was better than this lackluster rejection. He bent his head to kiss her, thinking it was better to go out with a bang than a whimper.
To his amazement, she didn’t push him away. After a moment’s pause, she laced her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him back tentatively, curling her tongue around his.
Groaning, Ben lifted her against the wall, cupping her bottom in his hands and pressing himself against her. “I’ll go slow,” he promised, although every instinct was telling him to drop his pants and take her right here, right now, right up against the wall.
Grabbing fistfuls of his T-shirt, she brought his mouth back to hers. When that contact wasn’t enough, she put her hands under the fabric and slid her palms over his chest.
“Did I say slow? I meant-”
“Take off your shirt,” she interrupted.
He pulled it over his head, willing to do anything she asked.
“I have this fantasy,” she began, tracing the line of hair above the waistband of his jeans with her fingernail, “about kissing you here.”
For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. He could almost hear the blood rushing from his head to his groin. “I don’t think-”
She put her other hand to his lips, shushing him. “I have another fantasy. It’s that you do everything I say.”
He was desperate to fulfill that one, and thoroughly, so when her mouth wandered down his chest, he held himself very still, trying to think about going slow.
Then she was on her knees in front of him, exploring the length of his erection with her hand and the skin of his belly with her tongue. When she began releasing the buttons on his fly, he had to stop her. “Wait. You can’t…do that right now.”
She touched her open mouth to his hip bone then blew gently on the wet spot she made. “Why not?”
Strangling a moan, he lifted her to her feet and maneuvered her to the bed, laying her down on the rumpled blankets and stretching out on top of her. “I have a fantasy, too, you know,” he said, panting against her throat.
“Oh?” She arched her neck to give him better access. “What does this fantasy entail?”
“Kissing you until you scream,” he said, dragging his teeth across her tender flesh and trying to touch every inch of her arching body.
“Kissing me where?”
“Everywhere.” He slipped his hand between her legs. “Here.”
“Wait,” she gasped, pushing against his chest.
He stopped, forcing himself to relax. Go slower. “What?”
“I think this would feel better naked.”
Agreeing wholeheartedly, he rolled away to watch her undress, feeling like a teenager with his first woman. He couldn’t remember ever being this aroused. While he stared, she shucked out of her jeans and pulled her T-shirt over her head, leaving her in nothing but a tiny pair of black panties.
Damn, she looked good. Yesterday, he’d almost swallowed his tongue when he saw her in that skimpy bikini. She was all sleek muscles and honeyed skin. Her thighs looked like they could squeeze the life out of him.
And her breasts. Good God, they were perfect.
“You, too,” she said, gesturing to his jeans.
His erection was straining against the denim, making him uncomfortable. With her gaze on him, hot and intent, he proceeded to unbutton his jeans and push them off. The cotton boxer shorts he was wearing did a poor job of concealing his excitement.
She nibbled on her lower lip. “Would you stay over there a minute?”
He nodded, more than happy to ogle her from afar.
Watching him with cautious eyes, she took off her panties and cast them aside, exposing herself to him completely.
He couldn’t help but stare. The contrast between her midnight-black hair and the tawny curls between her legs was startling. Erotic. His mouth watered to taste her, and his cock pointed the direction it wanted to go. But she’d asked him to sit still, so he did.
They were at an impasse. He got an idea. “Why don’t you tell me what to do to you? Your fantasy, like you said. You’re in control.”
“This is kind of scary for me,” she said.
“For me, too. I haven’t done this in three years.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“That I’ll come the second I get inside you. Or even before.”
She smiled. “Would you be disappointed if I came too soon?”
“No,” he said, very seriously. “That, I’m counting on.”
Taking a deep breath, she faced her fears. “Let’s do your fantasy, then.”
“Let’s do both. You tell me where to kiss, and I will.”
“Until I scream?”
He smiled back at her. “It’s a lofty goal, I know.”
“Let’s see if you can achieve it.” She scooted toward him, putting her arms around his neck. “Start here.” She touched her fingertip to her lips.
He traced them with his tongue, slipped it inside. Moaning, she dug her nails into his shoulders and wrapped her legs around him, urging him closer. He could feel the luscious weight of her breasts against his chest and the tempting heat of her sex through the fabric of his boxer shorts.
“Hang on,” he said, tearing his mouth from hers. If he pushed a little harder, he’d be inside her, and last he heard, cotton was no good as contraception. He eased back slowly, feeling sweat break out on his forehead. “Now where?”
She blinked at him in confusion then seemed to remember what they were doing. “Here.” She cupped her breasts, offered them up to his mouth.
He’d never seen more delicious nipples. He flicked his tongue over one stiff peak, then the other, and realized that his cock was not going to cooperate with going slow.
His hands wouldn’t cooperate, either. When he slid his palm up her thigh, and his middle finger inside her, she gasped and shuddered, as close to the brink as he was.
With a moan, he lowered his head. Parting her with slick fingers, he tasted her. She whimpered, thrusting her hands in his hair and holding him there, as if she was afraid he’d stop. He didn’t. Placing his open mouth over her
