Chapter 17

17

MABEL

I am ashes. Incinerated, burned up cinders.

Ben eases his weight off me, at least partially, and collapses beside me. His skin is hot and damp, his breathing choppy.

“Did you know that orgasms make women more creative?” I mumble.

He huffs. “No. I did not know that.”

“I’m going to be so creative.”

He chuckles, his fingers brushing over my shoulder. “You’re welcome. Be right back.” He rolls out of bed and grabs some tissues off the dresser to remove the condom.

I smile. That was amazing. He’s amazing. Not just his body, which is tight and lean and strong. Not to mention inked. I’ll explore his tattoos in a few minutes. But his mind – his generosity, his genuine enjoyment of making me come, his filthy mouth – holy shit. I might have just fallen in love.

No. I’m kidding. I’m not falling in love again. I’m done with that. Done with men. However, sex is not something I want to do without. And wow. I lucked into some damn good sex.

It strikes me then that Ben is not shy in bed.

I shift and roll to face him as he rejoins me, laying my hand on his chest, studying his face. He lies back, eyes closed, his mouth wearing a satisfied curve.

“What?” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“You were talking a lot.”

A faint crease appears between his eyebrows. “When?”

“Just now. While we were…”

“Fucking.”

I grin. “Yeah.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No! Not at all. It was hot. But usually you’re quiet.”

“Oh.”

After a moment of silence, I laugh. “Okay, back to normal.”

One corner of his mouth kicks up and he opens his eyes. “I was trying to think of what to say. So yeah… back to normal. I guess things slip out when I’m…”

“Fucking.”

He laughs. “Yeah.”

Our eyes meet and we smile at each other.

“I wanted to take you to Rupert’s for dinner,” he says.

I blink at that non sequitur. “Oh.”

“Because at Uncle Ernie’s you wanted to order some fancy truffle thing and nobody else wanted it and I wanted you to have the fancy truffle thing or Wagyu beef or oysters on the half shell or whatever.”

Something soft and hot unfurls in my chest, sending warmth through my body, and emotion swells in my throat. I touch his cheek with my fingertips, then brush them over his bearded jaw and down to his shoulder. I drop my gaze there to study the wolf in black ink as I regain control of my voice, then trace over it. “I like this.”

“Thanks. One of the teams I played for was the Wolves.”

“And… is this a sloth?” I touch more ink.

“Yeah. I like sloths.”

“That doesn’t seem appropriate. You’re an athlete.”

“They keep to themselves,” he explains.

“Ahhh. Who knew?” I nod. “Actually, I did. Did you know that sloths can hold their breath even longer than dolphins?”

“I did not know that.” His lips twitch.

“It’s true.”

“How about this?” He touches the tattoo on my hip.

“Oh, God.” I close my eyes.

“‘Girl almighty’?” he reads.

“Yes.” I sigh. “My friend Bellamy and I got matching tattoos when we turned eighteen. We were big One Direction fans.” At his blank look, I add, “That’s one of their songs. We thought it was very badass at the time.”

“Ah.”

“Now it seems cringy.”

“It could be worse.”

“Yes, I guess it could.”

“One time when we were on a road trip – this was with my last team – one of the guys got drunk and passed out so we drew a fake tattoo on him.”

“Uh oh.”

He grins. “Yeah. It was on his nipple. We used a black Sharpie and made it into a little face with a sombrero on it.”

I choke on my laugh and bury my face against his chest as my shoulders shake.

“When he woke up and saw it, we told him he wanted to stop at a tattoo parlor and insisted on getting it done. We had him convinced it was real for a good few hours.”

“Was he mad at you?”

“Naw. He was mad at himself when he saw it in the bathroom mirror. He was ready to flip tables.”

I grin.

“I like this.” He touches my ribs where I have a smallish tattoo of a stack of books with a trail of unfurling pages. “This fits.”

“Yeah. I have one on my ankle, too.”

“I noticed it earlier.” He flips me onto my back and moves down my body, lifting my leg to peer at my ankle. “Very nice.” And then he kisses it, a slow, gentle press of his lips. Cradling my foot in his hands, he kisses his way up my calf, and I’m melting all over again. It’s so erotic, him sitting naked, kissing me, stroking my leg, looking completely absorbed. As he nears the apex of my thighs, my muscles tighten.

He looks up at me.

I lick my tender lips. “Um…”

“Too soon?”

He apparently has no issue with stamina, his cock thick and hard. It’s handsomely shaped, with heavy veins, a flushed crown, full testicles, and thick dark hair surrounding the root.

“Maybe I should do… this…” I trace over a vein with a fingertip, then rub my thumb over the tight head.

His tongue swipes over his bottom lip and he looks down at my hand on him.

I stroke him, loving the feel, rubbing my thumb over the head. “Lie down.”

He makes a strangled noise and rolls down to his back while I rise to my knees and move between his legs. “Fuuuck.”

I smile and slide my other hand beneath his balls. “Ohhhhh.” It’s a sigh of pleasure. His balls are heavy and round and fit perfectly in my palm. I caress and squeeze them gently as I pump my other hand up and down. My lips part hungrily. I want to taste him, too.

I bend and kiss the tip.

He sucks in a breath. “Damn, baby.” His hands slide into my hair, stroking it back from my face and holding it at my nape.

I curl my fingers tenderly around his cock and stroke, then flick my tongue out to lick, sliding wetly over him then circling the head. His body jolts and I love his rough groan. I want this for me, but I want to give it him, too. I breathe in his singular male scent, rubbing the tip of his cock over my wet lips.

“Oh yeah, baby.” His fingers tighten in my hair. “That’s so good. Lick me… open up and suck me.”

I lick all up and down the shaft over velvety skin, then finally open my mouth and take him in, letting the wet flesh glide over my lips and deep inside.

“Holy fuck, Mabel. Oh, yeah.”

I slide my lips up and down, loving the weight of him on my tongue, the salty taste of him filling my mouth. I lose myself in the smell of him, the taste of him, his hoarse sounds of pleasure filling my head.

“Work that hot little tongue on me. Yeah, just like that. Jesus.”

His praise fills me with pleasure.

“Your mouth is so hot,” he moaned. “Hot and greedy. I love it.”

I love it too, the velvety texture of his skin, the throbbing hardness beneath.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good.” His hips thrust into my mouth as if he can’t help it. I find a rhythm, coordinating it with my hand because I can’t take all of him. His hips pick up my cadence, gently pushing toward me. I open my eyes to look at him and he’s watching me, his lips parted, eyes glittering. Something stretches out between us, something hot and intense.

“Love that,” he whispers, his fingers twisting in my hair. “Suck me with that hot little mouth.”

More heat rises inside me. I can’t believe how excited I am by this.

“You love it, don’t you? I love that.”

I attempt a nod and then his cock swells even more and he shouts. His balls tighten against my fingers, his taste fills my mouth, and his body goes still, his hands tangled in my hair. Slowly, I let him slide out of my mouth and he releases my hair. He cups my jaw and gently massages it. “So goddamn beautiful.”

I draw the back of my hand across my mouth and smile into his eyes.

“Tell me more about your friend with the matching tattoo.”

I smile, later, still in his bed. “Bellamy. Don’t you remember her?”

“Nope.”

“I think you met her. We’ve been friends since eighth grade. She’s my ride or die.” I sigh. “We talk on video chats, but I miss her. Especially now. She never liked Julian.”

“She has good judgment.”

“Better than mine,” I say morosely.

“Hey.” His head snaps up. “Don’t do that. You can’t blame yourself for him being a shit weasel.”

I choke on a laugh. “But I do.”

“I heard that, earlier, when you were telling me about him.” His voice roughens and his hands tighten on me. “I want to hurt that motherfucker.”

I lift my head in alarm. “No!”

He looks back at me, eyes narrowed, and I’m reminded that while Ben is reserved and quiet, he’s big, tough, and protective. I’ve seen him protect his teammates. I’ve seen him with his siblings.

And now I see him with me.

After all that time with Julian, thinking I deserved being treated like that, thinking that was the best I could have, that I wasn’t worth anyone’s protection… I have a sensation like the bed is dropping, like I’m falling, slowly, weightless and wafting. My heart thuds in heavy beats and I feel it all the way to my toes.

“No,” I say more quietly. “Don’t hurt him. We’re done and I’m moving on. But…” I bite my lip. “Please don’t tell Marek about it.”

He gazes back at me with that stern expression that’s making my heart dissolve and my lower belly flutter. “Why?”

I don’t answer for a long moment. Finally, I say, “When I was in college, one of the girls who lived in my dorm was sexually assaulted.”

He gives a slow nod, listening intently.

“We all felt terrible for her, but… some of the other girls started talking about it and saying things like, why did she drink so much that night, and why did she go back to his place. How hard did she try to stop it.” I pause, remembering with shame that I didn’t quash that talk.

“They blamed her,” Ben says quietly.

“Yeah. It happens all the time. And I can only imagine what people would say about me. ‘Why did she stay with him?’ Like, I think I’m pretty smart. How could someone like me be so stupid?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, and swipes a hand down his face.

“I’m afraid of what people will say. Even my family. It’s just the reality… everyone has a tendency to blame the victim. It’s a weird way of making us feel safer. I even blame myself.”

His jaw clenches so tightly a muscle tics.

I suck on my bottom lip briefly. “Then there’s the fact that Julian still wants to get back together. He’s still calling my parents, Marek, he even called Bellamy.” I meet Ben’s eyes. “If I tell people about him – well, I told Bellamy, but she knows not to say anything to him – but if my dad or Marek find out… if they say something to Julian… he could come after me. I’m afraid of him.”

“Fuck.” Ben closes his eyes.

“I don’t want to be seen as weak and helpless.”

“You are not.” He cups my face in both hands and stares into my eyes. “You are incredibly strong. You’re a fighter. A survivor. You got out and you’re amazing. And if anyone blames you for what happened, I’ll…”

Softness fills my chest. I lean forward and kiss him. “Thank you.” Then I draw back. “So please don’t say anything. I will tell my family. I want to get my life back on track first, so they know I’m dealing with it. With everything. So they know I’m really okay.”

I can see the conflict on his face in the way his eyes shift and his mouth tightens. “Okay. But I want to go find that guy and fuck him up.”

I don’t need him to do that. I’m dealing with this on my own. But I love that he wants to do that for me. I love having someone on my side, who doesn’t blame me, who believes me. I love…

Well. Ben is a great guy. But I’m just out of a toxic relationship, still rebuilding my life. The last thing I need is to get involved with another man. I should probably tell Ben that so he knows what this is…

The sound of the door to the apartment opening has both of us jerking our heads up.

Our eyes meet.

“Marek,” I whisper.

“Fuck.”

Well, this is awkward.

“He told us all to stay away from you.”

I frown. “What? Told who?”

“The guys.”

“Oh my God.” I roll my eyes. “He doesn’t control who I sleep with.”

“I know, but… doing it right under his nose is not cool.”

“He won’t know. He won’t come in here.” Thank God Ben closed the door.

“He’ll wonder where you are.”

“Maybe.” I elevate one shoulder. “I’ll go sleep on the couch once he’s asleep. I’ll tell him…” Wait. I’m going to lie to my brother? I nibble my bottom lip as I weigh our options. I could just tell him what happened. I play that out and imagine him giving me shit for screwing around with another man when I’ve just broken up with my boyfriend.

It feels like it’s been a year since I left Julian. In some ways, anyway.

But Marek’s going to judge me. I know it. And I’m pretty sick of being judged by him.

“I’ll tell him I was out,” I finally conclude.

Ben’s mouth turns down at the corners, but he nods. “Okay. But…”

I know what the but means. But… what are we doing here? But… is it going to happen again? And a million other questions I don’t want to think about right now. I lean forward and kiss him. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “We’ll figure it out.”