My Everything (5 page)

Grace found that tooth utterly charming. Whenever Ben laughed, she could see that tooth and it made her wish she knew how to kiss. Other than Bobby Barnes in the fifth grade, she had never kissed a boy, let alone a man.

Ben was no boy. When Ben pulled off his shirt at the end of their run, Grace tried so very hard not to follow the line of fine dark hair trailing down the center of his taut abdomen. She also tried hard not to think about what that trail led to, but since she’d set eyes on Ben the day before, that seemed to be all she could think of, the parts of him she hadn’t seen.

A week after they met, they drove in the predawn darkness to Enchanted Rock and climbed to the top to watch the sunrise. The climb was challenging in dim light. The scramble up the pink granite dome was exciting, especially for a girl who’d lived all her life in the Midwest.

She and Ben sat close together at the very top in the desert chill, waiting for the sky to lighten. He put an arm around her. Grace trembled in anticipation when Ben slid his other hand beneath her chin and tilted her head toward him. He lowered his head to hers and kissed her. At the press of his lips against hers, Grace felt warm and fuzzy. The kind of warm and fuzzy she’d heard the other girls talk about. When he deepened the kiss Grace responded in kind. It was an awakening. Grace let Ben into her heart. As the first rays of the rising sun warmed her cheeks, Grace fell in love.

Grace begged off work for Ben’s last weekend in Austin. They pitched a tent in the sand on South Padre Island. For three days Ben made love to her every way he could without having intercourse. Grace offered him everything. Ben showed remarkable restraint. He told her he couldn’t take her virginity, because he’d be leaving and he might never come back.

Even now, ten
years later, remembering his hands and his mouth on her, Grace felt that same longing, the deep emptiness in her belly.

Ben began to stir. He pressed her closer, close enough that she could feel all of him against her bottom, and she couldn’t keep from shaking.

He slid his hand up her side to cup her bare breast, growling deep in his throat. At that sound, that raw, intensely sexual sound of desire, Grace knew she was lost, even if it was only for a day, for an hour, for the next thirty minutes.

She wanted to be with Ben before he disappeared again. He’d been wrong ten years ago. If Grace regretted anything at all, it was that Ben hadn’t been the first.

Ben had been
dreaming about South Padre Island and an isolated campsite hidden behind a sand dune. Grace was spread naked before him on a blanket, bathed in moonlight like a sacrificial virgin. My God, he wanted her. His erection felt enormous, and he pressed against her, about to enter her.

Suddenly, he woke up and remembered where he was, who he was with, and why. His hand was on her breast and he was so hard he hurt. Grace trembled in his arms, and he was afraid she didn’t remember how she’d come to be there.

“Shhh,” he whispered, “Grace, it’s me, Ben McCall.”

Ben swallowed a groan. Grace wasn’t Julie, but Ben knew her. He could trust her, and he trusted very few people. Ten years before, they’d shared thirty beautiful days. Under other circumstances, there might have been more. Ben wasn’t certain he could let her go this time, at least not at this moment. He didn’t know why she’d appeared at his door, but he didn’t care. He wanted her. He wanted her right now if she’d have him.

Ben nuzzled her neck and inhaled, delighting in her sweet scent.

“Grace.”

He felt her reach for his left hand, the hand on her breast. She lightly touched his ring finger. Ben no longer wore a wedding ring. He’d buried it two years ago.

“Ben.” She turned around to face him and laid a warm palm against his cheek. Her brown eyes were as lovely as ever, and he was surprised and touched to watch them fill with tears, yet when she spoke, her voice was steady.

“I don’t want to talk,” she said. “I don’t care how I got here or how you found me. I want one thing.”

Ben flipped Grace onto her back and leaned over her, his eyes searching hers.

“What is it you want?” he asked.

“I want you.”

Ben saw truth and sincerity and the memory of times past reflected in her gaze. He stared at her lips and suddenly Tom’s warning didn’t matter. The fact that he might be in danger didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the woman beneath him.

He lowered his head to hers and kissed her, teasing her lips apart with his tongue. She moaned in response and arched against him. Ben deepened the kiss immediately, reveling in the warmth and softness of her mouth, in her determination and abandon as her tongue tangled with his in an urgent, sensuous dance.

With a quick move, Ben stretched her arms above her head, holding both wrists with one of his big hands. He used his free hand to pull up her short tank top and expose her breasts to his view. He stared in silent appreciation. Grace’s eyes met his for a heartbeat then she tossed her head, her hair spilling in rough gold-brown tangles against the very white sheets. Her nipples were exactly the way Ben remembered them, a sweet, delicate pink. They quickly peaked into flower buds, yet when he rubbed his thumb around the peaks, her skin felt as soft as velvet.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured as he closed his mouth around one of her nipples. He sucked eagerly, listening to Grace’s cry of pleasure. He felt her strain against his grip, but he held her hands captive, keeping her back arched and her breasts pointed toward his mouth.

This time around there would be no holding back. Ben would take everything she offered.

Grace felt Ben’s
mouth on her breast and conscious thought processes began to fade. Now he moved to the other breast. He ran his tongue along her nipple, played with it, nipping and sucking. Grace writhed and tried to pull her hands free. She wanted to hold him and touch him, but he held her fast. She felt helpless in his strong grasp, the helplessness intensifying her pleasure.

Ben thrilled her. She wanted to be swept along on the river of passion he hid deep inside. When she’d known him before, he’d kept a tight leash on his emotions. Grace realized that now the leash had fallen off. She sensed a change in him. He seemed raw, wounded. The gates were open, his defenses down. It made her desire for him that much stronger.

For two years Grace had denied her own feelings and her own needs, controlling every facet of her existence so she could hold herself together. Now she felt all that control fly out the window. She was Ben’s to do with as he pleased.

His free hand slid down her side to her waist. The hand stopped briefly at her navel, exploring the diamond stud she wore. She’d pierced her belly button on a whim a year ago, on the anniversary of Josh’s death. For an instant, Grace saw the briefest flash of Josh’s face behind closed eyelids, but she quickly shut it away. Josh was dead, and today was all she had.

Grace realized Ben had stopped moving. She opened her eyes and found him staring at her, confusion written all over his face.

“Don’t stop.” She lifted her head from the pillow and kissed him. He responded, but Grace could tell he had withdrawn from her. She could see the battle raging behind his eyes as he attempted to regain some control. He let go of her hands.

“Oh God, Ben,” Grace cried. “Don’t leave me again.”

Ben wanted her.
He wanted Grace so badly he thought his heart might burst. But that stud in her navel, when he’d touched it, she’d suddenly stilled. For an instant, it didn’t register. Then he’d glanced at her face and he’d caught a flash of something, despair or pain, he didn’t know which. Perhaps he’d moved too fast. Maybe this wasn’t what she wanted after all. Maybe she was involved with someone. But when he’d let go of her hands and looked into her eyes, he saw hurt and confusion.

What had happened to her in the past ten years?

Ben placed a hand on her cheek. Grace turned toward his palm and kissed it softly.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” he said.

“On the contrary,” Grace said, “It’s the only idea.” Whatever troubled her fell away. “I want you,” she continued. “I’ve wanted you since the day we met. There’s no one else if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m alone.”

He lay next to her and ran a gentle hand up and down her side as she turned toward him. Ben’s fingertips brushed the curve of her hip. Her skin felt like molten silk. Grace slipped off her boxers.

“Your tattoo,” Ben said, “I want to see it.”

Grace’s eyes crinkled as she smiled at him, and she began to turn. Both his hands were on her now as she moved, caressing every part of her. Ben couldn’t get enough of her. He’d never forgotten the delectable curve of her lower back and the firm, rounded shape of her bottom. Grace raised herself on one elbow and arched her back.

Ben brushed the mass of golden brown curls to one side and ran his hand along the line of her spine. At the base was an exquisitely detailed tattoo of a hawk in flight. He explored it with his fingertips, and he heard Grace sigh.

“In my next life,” she said, “I want to be a hawk.”

Ben heard her words, but he made no response. He replaced his fingers with his mouth. He kissed her there, and then kneading her lovely behind with both his hands, laid her down on her stomach. He spread her legs, impatient to see her, to stroke her with his fingers and his tongue. Her folds were pink and petal soft and glistening with the honey he remembered so well, star thistle honey. He slid a finger inside her, then two. She was liquid satin, tight, wet and warm. He heard her whimper with pleasure.

Ben wanted to watch her come before he entered her. He wanted to feel her contract against his fingers as she had ten years ago, catch her tremors on his tongue and then pull her to her knees and fuck her from behind, holding that glorious ass in his hands. Ben pressed himself to the bed, his cock straining at the thought, keen to experience what he’d denied himself ten years ago. He ran a finger through her folds until he found her swollen clit.

At his touch, Grace arched toward him. Ben placed a hand on the small of her back, right over the tattoo, holding her down as he stroked her, rubbing circles around her clit and then slipping a finger inside, over and over until Grace was nearly crying. The pace of her breathing increased, and she stretched her arms above her head, her hands clutching desperately at the pillow. Ben knew she was nearing orgasm.