He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and opened the door for her. The place was empty, closed up for the night. Leaving the lights off, he took her hand and led her down the darkened hallway to the room he’d been using. The moonlight slanted into the classroom through the wall of windows, illuminating a series of hanging dream catchers. He’d been taught how to make them by the children on a Native American reservation in Montana when he’d been there several years ago after a devastating flood.
“Pretty,” she whispered, standing there in the dark room.
Sadness seemed to come off her in waves. Sadness and…loneliness. God, she was killing him. “Aubrey.”
“You give back,” she whispered. “You were gone for five years, and still you came home to a place that loves you and you found a way to give back to your town.”
“You’re trying to give back,” he said.
She didn’t respond to this, didn’t confirm or deny. Or even move. So he moved instead, closer to her, putting a hand low on her back, letting her know he was there. “Tell me what happened tonight.”
“It’s not important,” she said, and shifted to move away, but he caught her.
“It is to me,” he said. “Talk to me.”
“Sometimes,” she murmured quietly into the night, her head turned away from him, resting on his shoulder. “I feel like a really bad person.”
He stroked a hand down her back, physically aching for her. He’d like to tell her she was a really great person, but she wouldn’t believe him. The only thing he could do to coax her out of this mood was to do something he was really good at—which was annoy her. “You’re not all that bad,” he said.
She went still, and then snorted. “And maybe you’re not a total first-class jerk.”
“Oh, I’m still a first-class jerk.”
She lifted her head. “No,” she whispered.
“Yes. Here’s why.” And he kissed her.
Chapter 19
Aubrey was never prepared for what Ben’s kiss did to her. It was like she spent ninety-nine percent of her time walking around in a black-and-white world, and then when he kissed her, colors bled into her vision like a painting.
Not that she needed a man in order to see or feel. No, she had the ability to do those things all on her own, but it was as if being with Ben reminded her of that.
“I love kissing you,” he breathed, holding her close against his warm, hard body.
And hell if that didn’t melt her bones. “You don’t need to work at charming me,” she said a little breathlessly.
“No?” His mouth made its way to her ear, giving her a delicious shiver when he licked at the sensitive skin just behind her lobe. “Are you already charmed, then?”
“Just about everything you do charms me,” she admitted, goose bumps breaking out all over her body, thanks to his questing mouth. “And we both know I’m a sure thing here tonight. You don’t have to work so hard.”
He met her gaze, his own filled with amusement. “You’re a sure thing? Well, damn, woman, you could’ve told me.”
She laughed, and something about the way joy surged through her, shoving back all the sadness, made her throw herself at him. Literally. She just…jumped him. Fortunately, he had quick reflexes and caught her, though they practically fell to the floor, kissing and groping. Twining her arms around his neck, she pressed her breasts against his broad chest as he kissed her long and deep, with wild, fast abandon. She returned the favor, the both of them panting in the quiet, dark night as they rolled, fighting for the top. She won and straddled him. “This doesn’t change anything,” she panted.
“Agreed,” he said so fast her head spun. Apparently, a small part of her had hoped he’d protest and possibly even say he was rethinking his no-commitment stance. The way she was starting to rethink hers…
“We have to hurry,” she said, remembering Pastor Mike and tonight’s AA meeting.
Ben rolled her beneath him. “I don’t like to hurry.”
No kidding. She already knew he liked to take his sweet-ass time. He liked to stop and kiss every inch of her skin, tasting her. Licking her. Kissing her…just the memory made her hot. She had no idea what it was about him that flipped her switch every time, but he did it seemingly without trying. She closed her eyes, but she wanted to see his expression, wanted to let his gaze tell her all the things that his mouth never did, so she opened them again.
Yeah, she flipped his switch, too. A relief. “I have an appointment,” she said. “We have to hurry.”
“An appointment?”
Damn Pastor Mike and his charming smile. She checked her watch. Eight o’clock. “I have half an hour,” she said. “So no stupid, wussy foreplay. Just fast, hard action.” She saw his amusement again. “I mean it, Ben.”
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll table the stupid and…wussy?” he asked, seeking clarification.
“Yes,” she said impatiently. “Wussy.”
“No stupid, wussy foreplay, then,” he said. “Just fast, hard action. Got it.” He was out-and-out smiling now, but when his gaze settled on her face, he went serious. Intense.
And she went hot, like molten lava. “Now, right?” she asked breathlessly against his mouth.
“Hell, yeah, now.” He rose off her, picking her up with him. Reaching out, he hit the lock on the classroom door.
The bolt sliding home was the only sound in the room other than their accelerated breathing. Holding her gaze, Ben then slid his hand around to the nape of her neck and then into her hair, entangling his fingers, pulling her to him. Eyes on hers, he nudged her up against the waist-high row of cabinets lining one wall.
Ben pressed her into the wall and lowered his mouth to hers, almost but not quite touching. Either he expected her to shove free, or he was building the anticipation. Since she had no intention of shoving him away, and the anticipation had already built to an almost painful degree, she wrapped herself around him.
His soft, knowing laugh echoed in her mouth as he kissed her, and that made her bite his lower lip. Laughing again, he easily took control, holding her still so he could bite her back. Things went a little wild then. She arched into him, trying to make him take action as he ran his hands over her, molding and cupping her to him. Melding them together, the kiss went on and on until she was moaning, helplessly rocking, making him swear and lose some of his tight control. Bunching the hem of her dress in his big palms, he pulled it over her head and tossed it aside.
Her bra went next, and then her panties, leaving her in just her boots.
She went to kick them off, but he stopped her. “Leave them,” he said in a rough voice that gave her a rush. Pulling back, he took in the sight of her leaning against the wall, nude except for the boots, and let out a long breath. “You are so f*cking beautiful, Aubrey.”
“Stop that. I said no foreplay.”
“Words are foreplay?”
“When you’re the one speaking the words, they are,” she said.
He arched a brow.
“Oh, please,” she said. “Like you don’t know your voice is an aphrodisiac all by itself. Tell me you’ve got a condom.”
He reached into his pocket and came up with one. His shirt was already unbuttoned—her doing. He smelled like the wood he’d been working with in her store. His eyes were dark and heated; his hair was messy from her fingers. A lock of it fell across his forehead.