Coming in early today actually worked in my favor. I was able to knock out most of the major things from my desk. I emailed the documents Mr. Benton called about as soon as Ben left and quickly finished everything else he asked me to do. All I have left are a few files to copy, and I should be leaving right on time for once. I cross my fingers and hope I didn't just jinx myself for even thinking it.
"You've been quietly productive over here. Do you have a hot date later?" Hilda drawls.
I look up, and she's waggling her eyebrows while leaning her hip against my desk. My cheeks heat up, and I'm unable to hide my embarrassment. I hope she didn't hear anything earlier.
"No, we're just staying in tonight," I say shyly.
"Well, if my husband looked at me the way he looks at you, I think I'd find a way to work from home." She's a nut.
"And what look was that?" I ask with a laugh.
"Sugar, he looked like he wanted to sop you up with a biscuit. That boy is all kinds of sexy," she says fanning herself.
"Hands off. You can look, but you can't touch. That one is all mine," I say swatting her playfully with a file on my way to the copy room.
I text Ben as soon as I leave the office. Traffic is surprisingly light, and I make it home in thirty minutes. The day has been a bit of a whirlwind, and I'm just excited to get out of my work clothes, enjoy whatever Ben's made, and relax. If I'm being honest, I'm hoping to pick up where we left off.
As I walk through the front door, I'm greeted with the delicious aroma of something cooking in the oven. The room is illuminated by small votive candles and the soulful sounds of Sam Smith are pouring through the speakers.
Oh, he's good.
I notice a small note on the table and place my purse and keys down before picking it up.
Waiting to undress you . . .
is all it reads. My lady parts clench in anticipation and my breathing picks up as I make my way to the bedroom.
When I reach the door, he's sitting on the edge of the bed shirtless. A lone candle flickers from the tall nightstand. He lifts his head, and the predatory look he had in my office is glowing from his amber eyes. He stands from the bed and walks toward me slowly. I'm rooted to the spot, shaking with lust. He has a plan, and I intend to let him show me exactly what it is.
In three short strides, he's in front of me. I take a second to drink him in. All tanned skin and broad shoulders.
Mine.
Without a word, he brings his hands to my face and plants a searing kiss on my lips. My toes curl, and I tangle my hands in his hair tugging gently. He groans, and my hands begin to move of their own accord, mapping his body.
"I need you," he whispers across my lips. I nod in response, unable to form words while his mouth works its way down my neck. He undoes the buttons of my blouse one by one. Each caress of his finger on my overheated skin sends chills across my body. I pant in anticipation. Pulling down the side zipper of my skirt, I tug it over my hips and let it pool at my feet.
The stress of the last week is a distant memory with every sweet flick of his tongue. He walks backward toward the bed. My hands go to the waistband of his jeans. I undo the button, and as my fingers reach for the zipper, he shakes his head.
"You first," he says huskily. I'm in my black lace bra and panty set, so getting me naked won't take that long. He works his nimble fingers on the front latch of my bra. One click frees me, and the thin straps fall off my shoulders. My taut nipples greet him, and he moves quickly to bring one to his mouth. The back of my knees hit the bed, and he pulls away.
His amber eyes are hooded as he drinks me in. He runs his hand down the front of my chest and presses me back onto the bed. His palm runs across my oversensitized skin and drives me mad. He knows I hate to wait and relishes in my eagerness. He gives me a wicked smirk; his eyes never leave mine as he runs his tongue over my inner thigh. I hold my breath as he works his way to the part I want him most. I arch my back and bite the inside of my cheek to keep from pleading. He laps his tongue over the small scrap of lace separating me from his beautiful mouth, and I moan in appreciation.
My jeans are reaching an uncomfortable capacity. I've been thinking about this all day and I'm going to draw it out for as long as I can. She's beyond ready, but I want her to beg. I get off on it. Her teeth grip her lower lip, and she throws her head back in complete ecstasy. I hook my thumbs into the sides of her panties and slowly bring them down her long legs. She lifts her hips to help. I toss the black scrap of lace over my shoulder and kneel in front of her hooking her legs over my shoulders.
She trembles with anticipation. "Shh . . .” I whisper while I rub my lips across her legs. I tease her with small flicks of my tongue. Every flick gets me a hiss. I reach the apex of her thighs and wait. My mouth hovers over her.
My girl is stubborn. She's biting the inside of her cheek to keep from speaking, and we're at a standoff. I wait. My patience is growing thin. I get closer and the smell of her arousal almost breaks my resolve. "Ari . . .” The whisper of her name across that spot does her in. She tangles her hands in my hair and grips tightly. "Tell me.” I speak again, and that's it. She gives in.
"Please, Ben. Please . . .” I swipe my tongue in one swift motion then stop.
"Fuck." She hisses. I'll give her one, but she knows what I like to hear.
"Tell . . . me . . .” I drag out the two words right over her.
Her grip tightens, and she arches into me as she desperately tries to gain some friction.
"Dammit, Ben . . . Please fuck me with your wicked tongue," she pants.
Exactly what I like to hear. I bury my face in her, and she releases a loud groan. My tongue drives her completely mad. She arches her back away from the bed, and her knees begin to lock around my face. She's close. I can't take any more, so I pull away, release myself, and quickly slide into her. She detonates, and the way her walls grip me as I thrust inside causes me to come right along with her.
We're wrapped in each other. A tangle of legs and arms. Ari is resting her head on my chest and begins to giggle. It's infectious, and I can't help but chuckle with her.
"What's so funny?" I ask.
"I'm wondering if it was such a good idea to force you to watch
Fifty Shades
with me the other night."
"Why is that, Miss Muñoz?" I deadpan while running my fingers through her freshly fucked hair.
"I don't know, Mr. Rodriguez. I think you were channeling your inner Dom on that round," she says with a mischievous grin.
"Oh, Miss Muñoz, you haven't seen anything yet," I say, playfully swatting her ass.
"Hmm . . . I'm not sure I'm into the twitchy palm thing."
"I assure you, Miss Muñoz, that is not the only part of my body you cause to twitch," I say with a thrust of my hips.
She closes the space between us sealing her mouth to mine. The kiss goes from slow and sensual to rough and greedy and so begins round two.
I drive to work with a stupid grin on my face. Last night was amazing. Ben sexed me up seven ways from Sunday and cooked us another amazing dinner. I'm completely relaxed, and it was just what I needed to help get me through the rest of the week. I love having him at home, but the thought of getting too attached and him leaving still scares the shit out of me. I've never been one to get too comfortable with any situation. I know he'll eventually move to his own place. Right? We love each other, but he can't possibly want to shack up permanently already. Gah! I can overanalyze this situation to death. This is what happens when you sit in L.A. traffic for hours. You have too much time on your hands to overthink shit.
My phone dings with an incoming text just as I'm pulling into the parking structure. I quickly pull into my allotted space and see that it's Vonne.
Vonne: We still on for tonight? My nails are a hot mess.
Me: Yup! Looking forward to it. I made us appointments for 7pm. Is that cool?
I'm already in the elevator on the way up to my floor when she finally responds.
Vonne: Perfect. I'll see you then.
I get into the office and start my day just like all the others this week. I make a strong cup of coffee, have a quick chat with Hilda, and then I'm off to tackle the never ending pile of files and transcription. It's business as usual until about eleven thirty when all hell breaks loose.
All five phone lines light up like a Christmas tree.
What the hell?
I answer the first line and the man on the other end asks for Mr. Benton; when I ask to take a message, he tells me he's a reporter for the local newspaper and asks if I have any comments on the day's proceedings and the new developments of the case. I'm completely thrown and mutter a standard, "No comment." I begin to answer the other lines and the same thing happens on the next call. Another fast-talking reporter is asking for information. Hilda makes her way over to my desk a few minutes later and waves her hands, gaining my attention.
Asking the call I just picked up to hold, I give Hilda my full attention, while trying to ignore the incessant buzz of the other incoming lines.