Deep (20 page)

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Authors: Kylie Scott

BOOK: Deep
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I shrugged. Not my business to admit to anything on Ben’s behalf. It was only on the part of my big mouth that Vaughan knew anything was afoot. Or abelly. I guess it should really be abelly.

“Dude definitely didn’t like it last time we talked,” he said.

“True.” But who could explain why Ben said and did half the things he did when it came to me? I highly doubted even he had a clue.

“Then the parties move to here because you’re sharing his room, all of a sudden. Even I could figure that one out, and I’m apparently not the most perceptive.”

I narrowed my eyes, outraged on his behalf. “Who said that? I think you’re great.”

“Thanks.” He grinned, hands on hips. It might have been my imagination, but I’m pretty sure his towel was sliding down. Man, if I could just stop looking. Me and my hand needed some alone time. Again.

“I think you’re great too,” Vaughan said, his eyes going soft as he stared at me. “Sucks that the situation’s the way it is.”

“Yeah.” Or did it? How often did I get a pass from a very nice man with such enviable assets? “I mean, he and I aren’t
together
together. I’m single. But yeah, definitely pregnant.”

We both jumped at the sudden knocking. Then Ben’s deep voice boomed out from the other side of the door, “Liz, you in there?”

Vaughan and I looked at each other, something uneasy stirring deep inside of me. God, was that guilt? I had no reason to feel guilt. None at all. Though the idea of explaining how I accidentally stumbled in on a wet, naked Vaughan could probably wait for later. Forever would also be fine.

“Be out in a minute,” I called back.

“’kay.”

“He treating you right?” asked Vaughan, his voice dropping in volume.

“I think he’ll be a good father.”

“Not what I’m asking.” He took a step closer, studying my face intently. Outside, the music took a dramatic jump in volume. Good timing.

I didn’t know what to say. Or think. “I, um, I’d appreciate you not saying anything about the baby to anyone yet.”

“’Course.”

“I better go.”

“Sure,” he said. “Ben’s waiting.”

“Right. Yes. Going.” I fumbled behind me for the door handle, giving him a slightly dazed smile.

Vaughan stepped to the side, out of the line of sight. What a surprising encounter. Guess I’d finally started glowing. Of course, it might be the boobs. After I’d had the baby perhaps I’d consider implants, if this was the sort of attention they got me. Ha! Just joking. Mostly.

The minute I stepped outside, Ben was standing there, waiting, looming. Immediately my body went on high alert. I searched his face for his mood, read his body language (mildly impatient with a trace of don’t-poke-the-bear cranky). There could be no denying that Vaughan was built and pretty. You’d have to be two days dead not to get turned on at the sight of him naked. But even then, Vaughan hadn’t gotten to me like this. The moment I came into Ben Nicholson’s orbit I was helpless, powerless to resist his pull. Foolish heart and vagina. The brain knew better but no one was listening.

People now filled the room and music was blasting out of the stereo. Ben bent, putting his mouth near my ear. “Anne said you wanted to talk. Let’s head up to the room, yeah?”

I nodded.

“Everything okay?” he asked. And man, he’d asked me that question over and over again in so many different ways lately. I was tired of putting a smiley face on it.

“Let’s talk upstairs.”

He put an arm around me, safely guiding me out of the crowded room. People were dancing, drinking, who knows what. It was a regular rock ’n’ roll hootenanny. We stayed silent, waiting for the elevator. When it arrived it was empty.

“Have a good night?” I asked, stepping inside.

“Explain something to me,” he said, backing me up against the nearest wall.

“Ah, what?”

With muscular arms braced above my head, he narrowed his eyes on me. “I heard another voice in that bathroom. A man’s voice.”

I wasn’t going to lie to him. I had no reason to. “Yes, I was talking to Vaughan.”

“You were talking to Vaughan in the bathroom?” His head lowered, nose coming close to touching the tip of my own. The man had a raging fire in his dark eyes, I kid you not. Actual real live jealousy, burning bright.

“Are you serious?” I asked, deeply confused because I couldn’t afford to be elated. Any minute now he’d do his usual thing and run. Just like in his truck that night. Just like in Vegas. I didn’t really think I could handle it again. Not now. My life felt precarious enough as it was, so susceptible to sudden, extreme change.

“Very,” he said, clearly cranky. “I already warned him off you.”

“But you and I are just friends, remember?”

He blinked, outrage momentarily suspended by surprise.

“We already had this conversation and that’s what you said you wanted,” I said. “And now you’re looking like you want to pee on my shoes to mark your territory.” I shook my head. “What’s going on here?”

“We need to talk.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

“Did he make a pass at you?”

“Not about that,” I groaned. “Ben, I’m getting my own room. You do your thing and have your space, and I’ll do the same. I think we’ll get along a lot better long-term that way. That’s what we decided, right? So that’s what’s happening. Decision made.”

“Because of Vaughan?” he asked, his back teeth grinding.

“Vaughan has nothing to do with this. Because of us having a baby. Because of you and me and this crappy cycle we’ve got going on where I get my hopes up and then you run away or hide behind the
friends
thing. It’s completely doing my head in. It’s not healthy.” I set my hands against his chest and pushed him back a step. “You know, you pretend to be this easy come, easy go, laid-back kind of guy. No ties or commitment, just living the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle to the limit and all that. And hey, that’s just awesome, Ben. Good for you. But if that’s who you want to be, then don’t go making a separate set of rules for me. Because that’s as hypocritical as fuck.”

Whoops. Another dollar for the swear jar.

His jaw shifted angrily. Or his beard did. Whatever.

“Good night.” The elevator doors slid open and I slid out, walking so fast I was damn near running. Time to get my stuff packed. If there wasn’t a spare room, I’d share with Anne and Mal for the night, make other arrangements in the morning. Man, I was so tired. Could have sworn my limbs weighed more than a mountain. If I was glowing, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it at this time of night.

“I never wanted to be in a relationship,” he yelled from back down the shiny hotel hallway.

“Congratulations. You’re not.” I gave him the bird too, because the bird was not swearing.

“Lizzy! Fuck. Wait.”

I slid my key through the door lock and hustled my ass on in. Not locking him out, though it was tempting. But hell, one of us needed to be the adult. I charged on through the living room and into my room, grabbing a suitcase from out of the closet. It was already over half full. When you only ever stopped for two nights at a time, there never seemed much point in unpacking. A few items were hung up—a coat and a couple of dresses. The rest had gone to the laundry service. There was just my makeup and junk in the en suite, a couple of pairs of shoes strewn on the floor, and I was good to go. Vacating the premises, ahoy!

“You’re leaving,” he said, standing in the bedroom doorway.

“Yep.”

“Liz…”

“Hmm?” I turned, waiting for whatever nonsense he’d try to sell me on next. The big man just stood there, though, face set in harsh lines.

And he had nothing.

“Probably for the best,” I said. “I’m not sure there’s anything either of us could say right now that would help. Let’s take some time to calm down and talk about it tomorrow, okay?” Yeah. Toothbrush, hairbrushes, and all that crap got thrown into my toiletries bag, which was then shoved into the corner of the suitcase. Next went my Converse, Birks, and fancy sandals with a heel. Then everything out of the cabinet. “You know, I think if we have our own space we might actually be able to give the being friends thing a good shot.”

No comment.

Over went the top of the suitcase and I started zipping it up. Better call someone up to help me carry it, since I doubted Ben was in the mood to be helpful. If I’d been warned once about lifting heavy objects “in my condition,” I’d been warned a hundred times. I’d mosey on down to reception and—

Ben’s hand slipped around to cup my jaw, his lips pressing firmly against mine. My mouth had been partially open already; no big deal for him to slide his tongue in and rub it against mine. He kissed me determinedly, taking me over. Christ, I could feel that down in my toes. They curled up tight, along with my eager insides. The edges of his beard brushed against my face and his other hand grabbed my ass, pulling me in tight against him. Already the man was thickening, getting hard. It felt so superlatively, unbelievably good. All of it.

And wrong.

“W-what are you doing?”

His reply was the lash of his hot, wet tongue against the side of my neck. Every nerve-ending in the vicinity went up in flames, while I went up on my toes, leaning into him, getting closer. No. Bad me. This wasn’t what we were supposed to be doing at all.

“Oh god. Maybe we should talk now.”

The man’s hands, they were so clever. Beneath the skirt of my jersey and up and into the back of my panties before I had a clue where they were even heading. Strong fingers kneaded my butt cheeks while his teeth sank into the base of my neck. He groaned as my breath stuttered, my lungs contracting sharply.

“I’m supposed to be going.”

If I could just keep my legs shut I might yet win this battle. It seemed an insurmountable task, given the array of his arsenal. The size of his artillery. One hand dived down further, stroking between my legs, while the other held the back of my head. I was helpless, the battle lost. God, I sucked. All right, so I was too turned on to think straight and my hormones were in open rebellion. Any attempt at coherent, rational thought was mercilessly slain upon the altar of my lust. Damn it.

“B-Ben.”

In a move proving he was indeed one of the greats of rock ’n’ roll, he kicked my suitcase clear off the queen bed with one big, black boot while dipping me back into his waiting arm, while moving his hand around to the front of my panties to apply pressure to my clit in the most amazing way. Holy hell. Stars danced before my eyes, I was so ready to light up for him. Vegas had nothing on me.

Someone really needed to give him an award, though. Something to do with multitasking and hot sex moves and shit. Shoot.

My back hit the mattress and he climbed over me, situating himself between my legs. Fuck he was gorgeous. The strong, clean lines of his cheekbones and the moody-ass gonna-get-me-laid darkness of his eyes. I couldn’t catch my breath, but it didn’t matter. My breasts straining against his chest was its own reward. It was entirely possible I currently owned the hardest, happiest nipples in all of creation. They were so sensitive.

Who said pregnancy isn’t fun?

He covered my mouth with his, kissing me stupid once more. Man, he tasted good. All the while he kept his weight on one elbow, putting no pressure on my belly. The things he could do with his free hand were delightful—running it up and down the outside of my thigh, slipping it up, up beneath my shirt to trace my ribs. But wait … I couldn’t give up this easy. It was shameful. I’d been in the middle of making a point and everything.

“I was leaving. I was.”

No answer from him. Instead, his hard cock rubbed back and forth between my legs, making my back bow. One pair of jeans and one pair of panties too many. That was the problem right there.

I gasped. “I don’t think friends that are just friends are meant to do this.”

Without comment he sat up, grabbing the back of his button-down shirt and pulling it off over his head. His chest was so pretty. So hard and big and stuff, it made my IQ drop to my shoe size. Everything about him did. The bearded sex machine turned me into a stuttering fool. Sad but true.

“Ben, I can’t just spread for you the minute you decide you want some.”

Sitting back on his heels, he grabbed both of my legs, holding them up against him. Off went my shoes, followed fast by my panties.

“Wait.”

He didn’t.

“Maybe I’m not interested in having sex with you.” A blatant lie. But I was getting desperate for some kind of communication from him of the nonphysical sort. “Did you think of that?”

His gaze on mine, he held my underwear up to his nose.

“Oh my god, do not sniff my panties. Ben!”

A slow grin spread across his face.

“That’s terrible. You don’t see me going around doing stuff like that, do you? No.” On account of me not wearing any pants, they couldn’t catch on fire. Lucky.

He threw the innocent, soaked scrap of material aside.

“Anyway, my vagina is out of control. That proves nothing.”

He placed a soft kiss against one of my fat ankles, giving it a good looking over.

“And don’t look at my ankles. You know how I feel about them.” I tried to retrieve my limbs, but he held on tight, wrapping both arms around them, holding them to his hot chest. “Why are you doing this?”

Slowly, he started one-handed massaging my toes. Nice, but beside the point.

“Say something.”

“You said there wasn’t anything I could say that would fix things,” he mumbled, his warm, wet mouth kissing the side of my foot, his beard ticklish in just the right way. “Figured I’d just show you why you should stay.”

“Sex?”

“Seems to be what you want right now.”

I snorted. “You started it.”

The bastard smirked. “Tell me more about your pussy being out of control. This interests me.”

“No.” Me and my idiot mouth. “Nothing to tell.”

The lethal combination of his soft, warm lips and sleek beard was doing me in. The heat and strength of his body. Every time he touched me, I could have sworn there were sparkles inside of my skin. Little lights burning me up in the sweetest possible way. How the hell was a girl supposed to compete against that? The man had sexual superpowers and I was just me, dysfunctional at the best of times.

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