Chapter 11

11

Lauren opened her eyes, feeling like she was still in a dream. Was she still in a dream? No, she didn't think she was. This felt more like the sensation you get when you're almost asleep, like you're floating, like you're falling. It was a delicious sensation, but she didn't think it was a dream.

So why, then, did she feel so lovely, so light and airy, like she was asleep in a bed of clouds rather than an earthly mattress?

She moved slightly and lifted her head, not quite sure where she was at first, trying to get her bearings. The cobwebs of sleepiness still clung to her mind, making thought difficult. She had the definite sense that she was not in her own room, not in her own bed, but she couldn't quite remember where she was. Generally, she had the disconcerting sensation of waking up in a new place and not, for a moment, being able to remember where she was. She hated that. It was upsetting. It made her feel the thing that she tried to avoid most in the world: out of control.

There was a stark difference between this instance of waking up in a new place and every other time it had ever happened to her in her entire life—she didn't feel out of control. Or, at least not in a bad way. Right now, she had a deep sense of being taken care of, although she wasn't sure from where that was coming. It was just a sensation.

As Lauren stirred more and lifted her head farther, she saw where she was and what she was doing and felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her—she froze. It all came rushing back.

She remembered the turbulent flight. She remembered checking into the hotel. She remembered the availability of only one room, which she and Ben had to share. She remembered her desperate and hurried telephone conversation with Karina. She remembered the last thing that Ben had said to her before they fell asleep, which was that he'd overheard her conversation with Karina, which meant he'd overheard her saying that she wanted to sleep with him. And lastly, yes, she remembered the sleeping arrangements. One bed. They were sleeping in one bed.

More to the point, she was actually currently sleeping on top of him. She saw that she was no longer lying chastely on her side, facing away from him, nor was he lying on his side, facing away from her.

No.

He was now lying on his back, and she had also rolled over in her sleep, but farther than he had. She'd rolled all the way over to him, was lying right next to him—pressed up against him, even—and had her head on his shoulder, her arms straight over his chest, and her legs entangled in his.

It should have felt awkward. It should have felt shocking. It didn't. It felt right .

In fact, she realized, it felt more than right. It felt hot.

She felt a burning, a tingling in parts of her body that weren't even touching Ben—and definitely in every single part that was.

Trying to squash this impulse and control her rapidly increasing breathing, she began to slowly extricate herself from Ben's side of the bed. She didn't want to wake him. She didn't want to suffer the embarrassment.

Just as she was almost free, she heard him whisper, "Don't feel that you have to do that on my account."

She looked up at his face, stunned. Had he been awake the whole time? She was so shocked by the fact that he'd spoken at all, that she hadn't even registered his words.

"What?" she asked.

He smiled and reached down to stroke her hair. "I said don't do that on my account. I kind of liked things the way they were."

Lauren froze. This was a moment of decision—she could feel it. It was a crossroads. Down one path, she could downplay his remark, act as if he had been joking, and then roll over and go back to sleep. Nothing would change between them. It was the safe bet.

Down the other path? Danger. But also, excitement.

After a moment's hesitation, she said, "Screw safe."

He looked puzzled. "What?"

"Never mind."

Lauren propped herself up on her elbow and lowered her head. She pressed her lips against his. She heard and felt a moan vibrate in his chest as his arms slipped around her, pulled her in tight to him, and rolled them over so that he was now above her.

Her lips parted and Ben immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue not just moving against hers, but massaging it erotically. She couldn't believe what an incredible kisser he was. He used his lips and tongue like brushes on a canvas, like they were engaged in a complicated dance, every movement filled with passion and skill.

Lauren drew in her breath, savoring all of the physical sensations—the penetration of his tongue into her mouth, his lips against hers—and how her body exploded with every touch. She felt butterflies in her belly, the tingling and hardening of her nipples, and an aching throb between her legs.

She whimpered with need. She didn't know how she would feel about this choice in the future, but as of right now, she was feeling very happy with her decision to go down the not-safe path.

She felt Ben's large hands start to roam all over her body, drawing even more whimpers from deep inside her throat. His hands were every bit as talented as his lips were, expert at knowing exactly the right pace to stroke her skin with, the perfect amount of pressure to apply, and the absolute right instant to move their attention to a different part of her hungry body.

Lauren liked the feeling of letting Ben set the pace of their encounter. She liked letting him take control. This was surprising to her. Not only did she never let anyone else take control of anything, but if she did, she certainly wouldn't just sit back and enjoy it.

But with Ben, it was an entirely different story. With Ben, she felt as if she had no more responsibility than to just relax and experience all of the pleasurable sensations he was bringing to her body. Moreover, she had no desire to have any more control than that.

Something inside of her, some voice she'd never heard before—or at least had never listened to before—was telling her that Ben was the one person she could finally trust. That she didn't have to control everything with Ben, that he was the first person she could be in a partnership with that was a true partnership—both people steering the ship together—because he was strong enough and smart enough to neither crash it nor attempt to wrestle control from her.

It was the most blissful feeling, this letting go. She felt as if she were floating in a lazy river during the middle of summer, no more responsibilities on her mind beyond simply staying afloat and relishing all of the sensations that were flooding her system.

It was a wonderful way to begin, and Lauren was enjoying it immensely, but this sense of comfortable—even luxurious, passivity—evaporated the instant that Ben slid his hand ever so smoothly beneath the waist of her tank top.

When Lauren felt his fingers like fire on the skin of her belly, she was engulfed in such a white-hot passion that the thought of merely lying back and letting Ben have his way with her became instantly as foreign as a faraway planet.

Suddenly, it seemed that she couldn't get close enough to him. She kissed him with increased fervor, her tongue moving desperately against his, her hands entangled in his hair, pulling him closer and closer.

She wrapped her long legs around his torso, needing to use every extremity to hold him tighter; anything to get closer to him. She just needed to be closer.

Ben tore his mouth from hers and began to place small, gentle kisses all over her face. He stroked her hair, sending sparks of electricity through her body, causing her to arch her back in pleading need.

As if in answer to her unspoken request, his hand moved farther up inside her tank top, tracing small curlicues on the delicate skin of her belly as he moved upward.

Lauren wanted to tell him, wanted to say out loud, that she loved this, that it was amazing, that she'd never felt this free and unfettered with any man in her life, that she wanted him to continue touching her, continue kissing her, exactly the way he was... but she couldn't manage to form any of those sentiments into coherent sentences. All she could gasp was, "Yes."

Still, even though Lauren was too drunk with arousal to be able to articulate all of the thoughts that were ricocheting around in her mind like pinballs, Ben seemed to understand what she wanted and what she needed.

In one swift motion, he pulled off her tank top, leaving her completely naked above the waist. Lauren sucked in a breath as the air hit her already hardened and sensitive nipples.

She arched her back, urging him without words to touch her breasts, to play with her aching, beaded knots of flesh.

He complied, lowering his head to take first one nipple in his mouth and then the other. He swirled his tongue around each hot nub, inspiring her to fly to even greater heights of ecstasy.

As he worked those hard peaks of pleasure over and over with his tongue, he trailed his fingertips up and down her sides, featherlight, sending waves of heat crashing through her belly, making her ache for more.

She wanted him. She wanted him like she'd never wanted any man before. No other man had ever made her abandon her senses like this. No other man had ever made her feel comfortable with giving up control of the encounter like Ben was, right here and right now. No man had ever made her feel so safe, so protected, so completely and thoroughly taken care of. Only Ben.

How was that possible when she objectively didn't even like the guy that much?

She threw her head back as another burst of ecstasy exploded within her as a result of Ben's magic hands and tongue.

Well, maybe figuring out the hows and whys isn't actually as important as just enjoying the ride.

Whoa.

Another huge one-eighty for her.

Ben ratcheted the heat in the room up another notch by slipping his hand, again in one swift motion, under her silk boxer shorts and thin, lace panties. He began to stroke her sensitive folds up and down while continuing to lick and suckle her nipples with his mouth.

Lauren didn't even have to search her memory to know that she had never felt this much fire, this much passion, this much heat, this much urgency in any sexual encounter in her entire life. She just wasn't the kind of person who felt things like overwhelming heat or passion; it just wasn't part of her nature.

That's what she thought anyway—until Ben.

Ben's fingers continued to stroke her, moving even faster and more expertly as her fervor rose. She began to buck her hips, rising up to meet his fingers, matching the pace of his hand stroke for stroke. She could feel herself building towards a climax.

Normally, if this encounter were with anyone else, she would've taken control of the rhythm and the pace of it. She would've said, "No, slow down. I don't want to come this early." She would've pulled his hand away. She would've told him exactly what to do. In short, she would've controlled everything.

With Ben, it was different. With Ben, she trusted him enough to know her body and know his and move their passion along at the rate that would bring the most pleasure to both of them.

Lauren felt, low in her belly, the telltale sensations that told her that she was getting very close to an orgasm, that within a second or two she was going to start climbing the mountain, that there would be no turning back after that.

The instant before that inexorable process began, Ben pulled his hand up and rose up onto his hands and knees, looking into her eyes.

He smiled mischievously then lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her sweetly.

"You didn't think I was going to let you come so soon did you?" he asked playfully. "Now what fun would that be?"

Lauren laughed, her voice raspy because of the lust that was clutching at her throat. She pressed against him, kissing him softly.

"You couldn't have said a more perfect thing," she whispered in his ear.

Then he wrapped his arms around her back, holding her firmly to him as he quickly flipped over onto his back, pulling her with him so that she was now straddling him. Lauren took full advantage of the position. She kissed him lightly, letting her hands explore every inch of his chiseled chest, the beautifully defined muscles of his arms and shoulders, and the gorgeous, rippling musculature of his torso.

Since she was straddling his pelvis, she was more than well aware of his protruding arousal. She could feel his manhood pulsing against her core, growing harder with each kiss and featherlight touch.

With every swell of his erection she felt between them, she became more and more distracted from kissing and touching him, until she found that she was doing nothing but sitting up straight, back arched, and working her hips back and forth, loving the feeling of the friction that her bucking pelvis created against his.

She looked down at him and saw him watching her, his face filled with wonder. His hands were resting lightly on her thighs and his eyes were fixed firmly on her breasts, which were undulating with every move of her hips.

Lauren leaned back down again, pressing the hard tips of her breasts into his chest, loving the feel of the heat against them and the strength of his muscles. She began to kiss his neck, and she moved her nipples up and down his chest. She heard him groan, liking the power she held over him in that moment. She liked having the power to give him pleasure.

She began trailing a slow, soft, deliberate stream of kisses down his chest to his belly. She let her hands wander there, playing with the soft patch of hair that started at his navel and led down below the waistband of his pajama pants.

She ran her fingertips through this downy hair, thrilling at the way his muscles tensed and jumped under her touch.

She moved even farther down, her kisses following the trail her fingers had just been enjoying, her hands now playing with the waistband of his pants, inching them down slowly.

She noticed that his breath was coming in shorter gasps. Then his hips were bucking, and his erection was now straining against the seams of his pants. She smiled. It was time to put him out of his misery.

She did, however, take a moment to appreciate the fact that he never tried to push her into going faster than she liked. He never tried to pressure her into speeding along at a pace that wasn't pleasurable to her.

He didn't take her hand and try to guide it to the place that would bring him the most intense sensation rather than letting her explore his body in the way that would awaken her passion most intensely. No, despite his clear lust-driven desperation, he let her move at her own pace.

She smiled wickedly. He deserved a reward.

--- ~ ---

Ben couldn't believe that this was happening.

He was making love to Lauren Harrison. He never in a million years thought that it would really happen. He never thought she would let herself go there.

It wasn't that it was so shocking to him to be having sex at all—hell no. That happened all the time. It was just that there was a certain kind of woman who found him irresistible. The kind of woman who was easily impressed by a handsome face and a job on television. Up until now, those have been the kind of women Ben generally jumped into bed with. Why? Because they didn't make him work for it.

Lauren Harrison had definitely made him work for it. And it hadn't been half bad. In fact, he had somewhat surprised himself by how much he enjoyed jumping through all the hoops she'd laid out before him. He found himself trying to think of new and interesting ways he could do trick jumps through those hoops just to try to make her smile.

The few times he did manage to make her smile—or, man, even made her laugh—he felt like he'd won a gold medal. What he was quickly finding out was that when you have to work harder for someone, that meant that that someone was worth it.

The way that she was making him feel right now? Damn. That was certainly worth it.

She slowly and deliberately, with the sexiest smile on her face, pulled his pajama bottoms down his legs, freeing his massive erection, and then tossed them aside.

She looked into his eyes and licked her lips, making him even harder than he thought possible.

"Since you were too busy for this on the plane, I thought maybe I'd catch you up now," she said before taking him in her mouth.

At the touch of her warm tongue, Ben felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him that nearly made him lose consciousness. This was more than just a case of a woman who knew what she was doing. While she was very talented, the sensations that were overwhelming Ben, the absolute sheer pleasure that was filling him from head to toe right now, was the result of more than just the ministrations of a woman who had both talent and technique.

No, this had to be the result of sharing his bed and his body with a woman he had a real connection with. This was the result of making love with a woman who was spectacular inside and out, a woman who made him want to strive to be better, both in bed and out of it.

He had known from the first time he saw Lauren Harrison that she wasn't like anyone he'd ever met. He sensed it. His subconscious certainly knew it, which had resulted in his making such a fool of himself. But thankfully fate was forgiving and had given him a second chance with this tall, blonde goddess.

Their physical chemistry was insane. He didn't need to be naked with her to know that. He only needed to be in the same room with her. But now that they were in bed together, exploring each other's bodies, their chemical connection was so strong as to be virtually undeniable. She was making him feel sensations and emotions he'd only ever read about.

He stroked her hair as she moved her mouth on him, transfixed by watching her shiny, white-gold hair as her head moved up and down. He was so mesmerized by the sight of her that, at times, it almost overtook his appreciation of the physical feelings that she was igniting in him. Almost.

As beautiful and hypnotic as she was, nothing could truly compete with the overpowering sexual gratification she was giving him. Her hands moved nimbly, following her mouth to prolong his pleasure; her long and lithe fingers gripping him firmly any time her lips left his member. He felt as if he would burst. He didn't think he'd ever been this hard.

Suddenly, he had a horrible realization. He couldn't let this go any further—at least not until he got to a drugstore. Shit . If he'd had any inkling that this was even a remote possibility, he would've arrived with a variety of condoms for her to choose from. Hell, he would've borrowed against his 401(k) to buy a hotel room full of condoms so he could have come prepared for an encounter with this previously unattainable beauty.

But that was all just wishful thinking. As much as he hated to ruin the mood and take the chance of nixing this whole thing altogether, he was going to have to put things on pause.

With a groan that, this time, rose from regret rather than pleasure, Ben said, "Lauren. Oh, God, Lauren. I hate to have to stop you. You have no idea how much I hate it. But I don't have a condom. I have to go and get some."

Lauren looked up at him with a knowing gleam and said, "I thought Boy Scouts always came prepared? Oh, well. No matter. I was a Girl Scout, and even though that wasn't our motto, I try to make it mine."

With that, she hopped up from the bed and crossed the room in two long strides. She opened the side pocket of her bag and pulled out a condom in its shiny wrapper. Ben was unreasonably pleased, more than he had any right to be, that the package was clearly wrinkled and had been in there awhile.

He shook his head at himself. What was wrong with him? He was far from being a possessive sort of guy. All he knew was that the thought of anyone else kissing Lauren, anyone else touching her, was suddenly intolerable to him. He wanted her, and he wanted her all to himself. He didn't give a damn how unreasonable that was. She was a one-in-a-million woman, and he always liked to aim for the top.

Lauren walked back over to the side of the bed where he still lay, panting and fully erect. She seductively ran her hands through her hair, moving them down her own body slowly. He gasped when they brushed over her breasts and groaned as they traveled farther down her belly.

As they passed the waistband of her boxer shorts, which rode low on her slender hips, she caught the elastic band in her thumbs and brought both the shorts and her flimsy panties down with them.

She straightened up, standing before him, fully naked and without a hint of self-consciousness. It was clear by the way she held her shoulders and the slyly confident look on her face that she was damn proud of the way she looked naked in the soft glow of midnight. And she should be.

He'd never seen anything sexier.

His breathing became ragged as his eyes traveled up and down her strong yet curvy body, her skin silvery with moonlight.

"I think I've tortured you enough," she whispered as she climbed back onto the bed and knelt next to him. She tore open the condom wrapper with her teeth and had the condom unrolled onto him in a flash.

When she had readied him, she rose to her knees, put her hands on his chest, and straddled him. He watched her, transfixed, as she took him in her hand and then guided him to her entrance, slowly lowering herself onto him one luscious inch at a time.

His eyes moved to her face, enjoying the rapture he saw there. As she sank farther and farther onto him, she closed her eyes and threw her head back, fully engaging with what her body was feeling.

I'm doing that to her , he thought proudly. The pleasure she was experiencing right now was because of him. He was the one giving her that ecstasy that's written across her face.

The thought gave him more than a physical thrill; he felt an emotional rush as well.

Lauren began to move her hips up and down, much like she'd done with her mouth earlier, with equally pleasurable results.

As she rode him, his eyes would flick down to watch her beautiful breasts as they bounced with the motion or sometimes to the place where their bodies met. But mostly, his gaze was drawn to her face—her beautiful face, which was normally as placid as the deep waters of Lake Tahoe late at night.

Now, though, in the throes of ecstasy, every single thing she felt was written across it. It was fascinating and dazzling to watch this internal story play out across the canvas of her exquisite face.

When he felt that he could no longer hold on, he let her know. She grasped his shoulder and begged him to give her just a moment more so that she could join him in the ultimate climax of their lovemaking.

He gritted his teeth and set his mind to make that happen. He refused to disappoint her.

Several seconds later, she began to moan as she gasped, "Okay, Ben. Yes! I'm coming."

"Lauren," he said intently, "open your eyes. Look at me."

She did, and he was amazed at how lucky he was, experiencing by far the most intense orgasm of his life with a woman who intrigued him more than anyone he'd ever met, all the while being granted the rare gift of looking into her eyes as he caused her to feel the same thing.