Chapter 24
BEN
Shit. This really isn’t helping right now. I peer down at Mercy, at her tits pressed up against my chest, the man-made cleavage through the center. I’m betting Mercy was an A—B, tops—before her implants. “You took the entire night off?”
She shrugs and then offers me a coy smile.
Fuck. I’m halfway drunk and now I have a sure thing rubbing her nipples against me. Where the hell is Reese? She wouldn’t have left without her phone and I’m not giving that back until tomorrow. The last thing I need her doing is responding to him. Leaving the party to go meet him. To do what? Vengeance fuck the guy?
I shouldn’t care, but I do. I’m just having a hard time figuring out exactly why. I don’t like watching my friends make stupid mistakes, but my gut is feeling off about the entire situation. I take a long sip of my beer as I try to figure out if I’m more bothered by her acting like an idiot or her screwing around with another guy when I want to be the one screwing around with her. The woman has turned me upside down. Ben Morris does not concern himself with this kind of shit. Ben Morris goes with the flow. Ben Morris is fucking Switzerland! He can get hot ass wherever and whenever he wants it, no strings attached.
“Are you upset about something?” My eyes find Mercy’s double-Ds waiting for me when I look down. Case in point. Though this doesn’t appear to be without strings anymore.
I give her my best dimpled grin. “Do I look upset?” Shit, do I?
“So what’s going on with that lawyer from your office?” she asks innocently.
“Just a friend,” I admit, not bothering to correct her on the lawyer piece.
“A friend like me?” Her hand slides down the front of my pants. Mercy giggles as she feels the hard-on I’ve been carrying around since Reese stalked into the bar in her red dress. “So this is okay? I mean, she could join if she wanted to.”
I struggle to keep beer from spraying out of my mouth with my burst of laughter as I picture Reese’s face in response to that proposition. It’s followed by a rush of blood southward. Damn, that could be hot. I wonder if she’d be into that?
Cool hands slide up under my shirt and then back down to my belt. “Want your gift now?”
Oh, hell. I stall her fingers with my hand. Where is Reese? Her friends are at a table pounding shots of tequila and J?ger, but she’s not there. Scanning the crowd, I catch Kacey’s eye. I don’t know when she got here. I give her a wave. She responds with a nod toward Mercy and then that “what are you doing?” glare.
“I leave you alone for two minutes . . .” I hear Reese’s voice—laced with annoyance—coming from my left and I quickly maneuver out of Mercy’s grasp to wrap both arms around Reese’s body in a close-fitting hug.
“Please don’t leave me again,” I whisper into her ear. “I’m defenseless against her.”
“Jackass,” she mutters, glaring up at me. I can’t tell, but I think she may be genuinely mad at me. There’s definitely a spark of anger in those gorgeous eyes.
So I drop a lightning-fast kiss on her lips and beg, “Save me from her silicone.”
She cocks her head to the side, her gaze dipping down to my mouth. “You know you’re a pig, right?” The bite is gone from her tone, though. In fact, I feel her leaning farther into me.
“Yeah, but I’m your pig tonight.”
“You weren’t lying.”
I smile. “Mama bought me two sets.”
“I didn’t think they even made them for a bed this big,” she murmurs, her finger tracing over a grinning Buzz Lightyear. Her gaze roams my room—the plain blackout curtains, a couple of empty beer bottles lining the dresser, and a wall of half-naked football cheerleaders, each poster signed and personalized to me.
“It’s exactly as I pictured it.” She steps over to read one of the messages and then shakes her head. “So, when do you plan on growing up?”
“Never. Just call me Peter Pan.” I don’t even notice the posters anymore. They’re like wallpaper. I figured I’d toss them when I move, whenever that is. I’ve actually started scanning the newspapers for a one-bedroom apartment, but the very idea of living alone isn’t appealing. That’s the thing I like about living in a house with five guys—there’s always someone around, always people coming and going. Just like growing up with my brothers and Elsie.
I thrive on that kind of chaos.
She glances coyly over her shoulder at me before her attention drifts to another poster—a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader who I met at a tailgate party and who developed a little crush on me. “So these are all fairies? Where are their wings?”
“Removable,” I offer, taking slow steps toward her, her bare shoulders and smooth skin begging to be touched. After the slew of almosts, I can’t believe I finally have Reese in my bedroom. I’ve never worked this hard to get laid in my entire life.
“As are their panties, I’m sure you discovered quickly,” I hear her mutter under her breath, her eyes still searching the wall, her jaw working against itself.
“How about you focus less on these women and more on the soon-to-be-naked guy standing behind you. If that really is your thing . . . I’m still wondering.”
I grunt as her sharp elbow flies back to jab my stomach, but it doesn’t dissuade me from shifting her hair off to one shoulder, giving my mouth access to her slender neck.
“You know, you’re a lot different than I thought,” she purrs, her body falling back into my chest, her head tilting up to give me a full view down the top of her dress.
I can’t help myself from grabbing her hips and jerking that full ass of hers into me, to let her feel how bad I want her. She rocks her hips against me in response; such a simple move and yet it’s driving me wild.
“How so?” I’ve been eyeing her dress for access points all night, so I know that the zipper runs along her rib cage instead of her back. Slipping my fingers up under her arm, I locate the slider and tug it gently. The tautness in the top of the dress immediately gives, the material folding over itself and falling to uncover a matching red lace bra. Another quick move by my fingers and I have that dropping to the floor.
“I don’t know. You just . . .” Her words fade in a heavy sigh as I reach up to fill my hands with her tits, trying hard not to squeeze them too tight. I don’t know what it is about the way she sighs, but it makes my ability to restrain myself vanish.
I slide my hands down her waist, my fingers working their way under the dress and panties until I’m able to push them into a heap on the floor and she’s stepping out of them without my request. Kicking them out of the way, I grab her waist and spin her around to face me. “Good, different?” I ask with a playful smirk as I press her up against the wall and force her legs apart, enough to make room for me as I fit my body between them.
I won’t lie. I’ve been in this exact position with women many times before. But being here now, with Reese, somehow feels new.
Her breath hitches, her arms moving to wrap around my neck and yank me down to meet her mouth, slipping her tongue in and out before I can even catch it. “Yes,” she moans, and I’m not sure if that’s a yes to my question or to what’s coming. Her clawing fingers at my back, my shirt bunching up within her hands, reminds me that I’m still fully dressed. Something I completely forgot about, distracted by the taste and softness of this tumultuous, vindictive woman’s lips.
My wild horse.
“Why is it I always end up naked before you?” I feel her cool hands retreat down to the hem of my shirt and slip under to drag it up. I break away long enough to yank it over my head and toe off my shoes, then I dive back against her.