I open my mouth to say it again, but I’m met with heat and tongue and lips that know just how to make it all work together. Instead of the word stop coming at him, all he gets is a moan and a hand in his hair, pulling, pushing, indecisive.
He pushes against me, his leg between both of mine. He’s kissing me so hard, my mind is still wrapped around all the ways his tongue can move before I even notice his hand has moved around to the front of my thigh. And I know I should stop him. I should push him away and make him explain himself, but his hand feels too good for that right now. My legs tense and I grip the sleeve of his shirt with one hand while I pull on his hair with the other hand, tearing him away from my mouth so I can breathe. I take in one deep breath before he’s back on my mouth, even hungrier than before.
And his hand. Oh, God, his fingers are slowly tracing up the front of my panties. I moan again. Twice. He puts just enough space between our mouths so that he can listen to me gasp as he slides his hand down the front of my panties.
My knees grow weak. I’m not sure I knew my body was capable of feeling these kinds of things. I think I just fell in love with my body a little bit more.
“Jesus, Fallon,” Ben says, stroking me, breathing heavily against my mouth. “You’re so wet.”
As delicious as it feels to hear that, I can’t help but laugh out loud. When I do, I quickly slap my hand over my mouth, but it’s already too late. He heard my laughter in the midst of the most mind-blowing act of seduction I’ve ever been a part of.
He drops his forehead to the side of my head and I hear him laughing quietly. His mouth rests against my ear and I swear I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “God, I’ve missed you so damn much.”
That one sentence affects me more than anything he’s said all night, and I don’t know if it’s because it felt like the old Fallon and Ben for a second, or if it’s because he removes his hand and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into one of his soul-crushing embraces. His forehead rests against mine, and I almost wish he would have kept going with the physical stuff, because that’s way easier than the emotional stuff.
As good as it feels to be back in his arms again, I’m scared I’m screwing up. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should let him back into my life so easily, because the getting together part should be just as hard as the letting go part and this feels way too easy for him. I need time, I think. I don’t know. I don’t feel capable of making this kind of decision right now.
“Fallon,” he says, his voice low.
“Yeah?” I breathe out.
“Come home with me. I want to talk to you, but I don’t want to do it here.”
We’re back to this again. It makes me wonder if he’s being so persistent because there’s only a few hours left of November 9th and he wants to make the most of it, or if he wants me on all the other days, too.
I feel behind me for the door handle. When I find it, I push against Ben’s chest and pull the door open. When I slip outside, his hand is on my right elbow and someone else grasps my left elbow. I gasp, just as my eyes meet Amber’s.
“I was looking for you,” she says. “What are you doing in . . .” Her question comes to a halt when she sees Ben walk out behind me. And then, “Sorry to interrupt this reunion, but Teddy is worried about you.”
She’s looking at me like she’s disappointed in my decision to be making out in a dark closet with Ben while my date is in the same building, and Oh, my God, now that I think about it, that’s a really shit thing to do.
“Crap!” I say. “I have to get back to the table.”
Ben makes a face like that’s the last thing he expected to come out of my mouth.
“Good choice,” Amber says, eyeing Ben.