“That’s what it’s there for. Do you want something to drink? Water? Wine? Coffee? Cider? You’ve got me thinking about it now.”
A blush crept up my cheeks. “I’ve never had cider.”
“Well then, it’s decided. We’ll have a drink when they get back in here, since you have to spend the night.”
Ben came back into the room, leaving Branson out in the hall on the phone.
“You trust him to tell the truth?” I blurted to Ben. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just if it were me at his age, I’d lie through my teeth to my parents.”
Ben shook his head. “I trust him. He’s not going to lie. Branson wasn’t raised that way. He wants to be cool for the girls,” he said to me, then focused on Scott. “But he’s also protective of Brenna.”
“Hey, it wasn’t me who knocked her up,” Scott said quietly.
“I know that you weren’t, but you were the one who dumped her as a friend when he went off to agriculture school.”
“Man, I was eighteen. I didn’t know my ass from my elbow.”
“I get it,” Ben said. “Never mind. What’s done is done. Listen, thanks for doing this. I don’t know why I didn’t pay more attention to the weather and the road.”
“No worries. Like I said, your sister meant a lot to me back in the day, and we’re all neighbors here.”
“I was distracted by this beauty,” Ben said out of nowhere, taking my hand in his. “And Branson’s behavior,” he added, squeezing my hand. “I can’t fail him. Or you. That’s why this was a major error.”
He’d taken his seat on the couch next to me as soon as he came back into the room, which was possessive enough, but now he was pulling out the big guns. Based on my racing heart, it was working.
“Well, you’re here now,” Scott said, “and your lady here said she’s never had hard cider, so we were thinking of having a glass before dinner.”
Ben shrugged. “Why not? If we’re stuck here.”
“Come on, let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll see what I have. Tell Branson to meet us there. I have some root beer too.”
The rest of the evening passed easily with cider flowing, along with tales of Brenna over grilled steaks. Before I knew it, Scott was showing Ben and me to a guest room and setting Branson up in the basement with a movie.
25
Ben
“What should I sleep in?” Murphy slipped out from the bathroom, her cheeks ruddy from the cider.
“Nothing?” I raised an eyebrow, hoping for the best, and she frowned.
“I can’t do that. I barely know Scott.”
Her voice soft, Murphy walked toward me and rested her head on my shoulder. My lips grazed the top of her head. We slow-danced in place, moving to a silent song.
“Sorry about all this,” I told her, lifting her chin and kissing her softly. “Getting stuck here, and not being prepared to take care of us.”
I kissed her again and our lips moved in an easy rhythm, in sync like our bodies that still swayed to music only we could hear. “I wish we were at my place. We’d curl up under the covers, and I’d rock your world a few times. Your moans would be louder than the rain pounding on the roof.”
Murphy leaned back and let out a tiny giggle. “You’re pretty confident.”
Our light banter and flirting was heavenly, fueled by traces of alcohol and a heavy dose of desire.
“Oh, I am,” I murmured. “Maybe I’d even press you up against the door again and slip down to my knees and do that thing you like so much? Or maybe I’d pour maple syrup all over you, and lick it off slowly.”
“Oh my God. You’re too much, but that does sound kind of fun if I can return the favor,” she said before pressing her lips to mine again.
On a quiet moan, I slid my tongue into her mouth while backing her into the dresser, finally lifting her onto it and spreading her legs. As I stood between her thighs, we devoured each other hungrily, our fused mouths only breaking apart when Murphy yanked my shirt over my head.
Her lips grazed my stubble, traveled down my neck over my clavicle, and kissed all of my chest. My head lolled back, and goose bumps covered my skin. I’d never felt so turned inside out with pleasure, and stifled the moan that begged to be freed. There was no need to clue Scott into what was happening under his roof.
Running my hand under Murphy’s shirt, I lifted it off, then unclipped her bra before I held her tight. We were skin to skin, our mouths fused, pressed so closely together that her heart beat against mine.
“I want you so badly,” Murphy whispered, grinding herself into me.
“Even in the heat of passion, you still use your adverbs,” I mumbled while unbuckling my belt, then shoved off my shoes and dropped my pants in one quick move.
Murphy called me out as I dropped to my knees, yanking off her pants and socks and shoes and tossing them into a big heap. “I see you don’t mind.”
Sliding back up her legs, I tasted every inch of her skin. I wanted to inhale all of Murphy, unable to get enough of her scent, her taste, her moans or sighs—all of it. Before I combusted, I gently moved her panties to the side and made good on my promise to rock her world.
“Shhh,” I mumbled against her core, and the vibration of my lips set her off. With tiny quakes, she came quietly, and I swallowed all of it.
Lifting her into my arms, I took her over to the bed and laid her down, then grabbed a condom from my pocket. As quickly as I could, I stepped out of my boxers, then rolled it on and entered her slowly.
