“It’s not weird.”
“I want to know how you sleep,” he kept going, not seeming to hear my answer at all. “That is definitely weird. I know that.” I opened my mouth and then closed it without anything to say. It was a little weird. He pushed on with an explanation, “I just… I know so much about you. I know how you like your wine and how you like your food. I know what you look like when you’re angry at the world and angry at your children. I’ve watched you laugh and smile, cook a meal and fold a basket of clothes. I’ve seen you cry and I’ve seen you sit in silence, so lost in your thoughts that the rest of the world doesn’t exist. But I’ve never seen you sleep, Liz. It’s important to me to share this with you.”
“Okay.”
He set his wine on the counter and walked over to me. “I told myself that I would go easy on you tonight.” His cautious smile melted whatever defenses I still had raised. “I have wanted this for so long, but I’m having a hard time believing that it’s real. That you’re really here with me.”
I set my wine down so that I could press my hand to his heart. “I’m here, Ben. I’m with you.”
He laid his hand over my heart and held my gaze. His eyes said something that my heart refused to accept. I had a moment of panic where I knew I should run, but he started speaking before I could convince my body to move.
“Liz, I’ve fallen in love with you.” I said nothing. The silence rang around the room as I waited for more from him, a qualifier or an excuse or anything other than those words. He smiled patiently and his fingers brushed over my cheek and finally an explanation of sorts came, “I tried to fight this attraction for a long time. And then I thought I could be satisfied with just the little bit that you were comfortable giving to me. But, the more I get to know you, the deeper I fall. And it isn’t just you I’ve fallen in love with, but your family, your chaotic life. I cannot imagine my life without you and the kids in it. I don’t expect you to feel the same way about me. I know that Grady will always be there with you. But I wanted you to know how I feel. I don’t have anything holding me back, Liz. I fell for you because that was the only way for me to go… to feel.”
“Say it again,” I whispered, surprised by my strong reaction to his words. I expected to hate them if he ever said them to me. I expected to run from them as fast as I could, but they felt right. They felt like salve against my wounded soul, like glue to my shattered heart.
They felt like home.
“I love you.”
I didn’t say them back, but I couldn’t just stand there either. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down for a desperate kiss.
Our mouths crashed together with all of the depth and intensity wrapped up in those beautiful words. I held him tightly to me, letting him worship my mouth with the emotion I could now name. His hand blindly moved the glass of wine out of our way before he gripped my hips and tossed me on the counter.
I wrapped my legs around his waist as he stepped into me, letting me feel the strength and masculinity of his hips. His hands moved over my body with skilled seduction.
I was helpless against the blazing fire he built inside of me.
I felt dizzy with lust. My fingers shook as I worked the buttons on his oxford. He patiently let me unhook them all. My hands brushed over his bare chest, relishing the feel of his hard muscle and pounding heart. I peeled the shirt back from his shoulders and he worked the wrists loose until it was a pile on the floor.
His kisses moved down my neck and over my throat and chest. He kissed me through the thin material of my plum dress. I shivered when his hot mouth pressed against my nipple.
His fingers played with my zipper, teasing me with his desire and uncertainty.
“Yes,” I panted.
“Liz.” His breath hitched as he pulled the zipper down slowly, teasing me into blind passion.
I bunched my shoulders and the sleeveless dress fell past my wrists to pool at my waist. Ben gazed with hooded eyes at my body, my breasts hidden behind a lacy bra and my hips marked with pale stretch marks. He bent low to remove my heels, taking care to tug them off with slow, intoxicating touches. Then he placed his hands against my bare waist and helped me to the floor. My dress dropped to my feet and soon I stood there in nothing but underwear I’d ordered online just in case of this moment.
He took a step back and rubbed his fingers roughly along his jaw. “Beautiful,” he breathed.
And in that moment I didn’t feel like a used woman or a mother of four children. I didn’t feel mid-thirties with gravity working against every part of me.
I felt beautiful. He breathed that word into existence and there had never been a purer, more honest moment than right then.
I stepped out of my dress and ran my fingers over his stomach, settling them on the waist band of his jeans. I played with the button, shocked at my courage and at the undeniable need I felt for this man.
I watched my fingers move as I remembered how to unfasten a man’s pants. I pushed them down to his ankles and he stepped out of them in only boxer briefs. My eyes traveled the length of him, memorizing every inch of his body, every part of this incredible man that had changed my life so profoundly.
“Are you sure, Liz? I only want to do this if you’re sure.”
“I am,” I promised him. “I’m ready.”
He scooped me up into his arms and carried me to his bedroom. With a needy toss, he dropped me onto his massive bed. I had little time to take in his room, his king sized bed, a large TV mounted to the wall, soft, silky sheets.