Ouch. He couldn’t argue with the truth. He couldn’t stand on equal footing with the standard white knight, his stable background and normal wish for picket fences and two point five kids.
But Ben could use the darkness within him to reach down in Marcie’s soul and, through restraint and pain, open it up like a flower, give her the complete surrender she needed.
The white knight couldn’t do that for her in his pretty fucking world. Couldn’t understand the part of her that Ben had intuited for so long was there, but had made himself ignore it. Until Marcie refused to let him do so.
Stay out of your head, he told himself, remembering Savannah’s far too insightful yet gentle reproof. Stay out of the dark places.
With a nod to the women, and giving Rachel’s arm an affectionate stroke, he moved toward Marcie. When he reached her, he pressed against her back and plucked the pastas from her hands, putting them back on the display. “Novelty pasta is as horrific as novelty chocolate,” he informed her. “It’s not entering my house.”
She gave him a pouty look. “But the Santas are so cute. I was going to make Angelica mac and cheese with them when I babysit her near Christmas. I already put dibs on the night Savannah and Matt go to that big holiday charity bash they attend every year.”
“Sure, play the Angelica card.” He sighed and put the Santa pasta back in her hand. She tossed him a triumphant look, but tilted her head to look around him at the trio of older women. They were examining hand towels and pot holders. One put a cow-shaped one on her hand and mooed at the other ladies. Marcie grinned.
“So, they want to take you home to cook for them? And do other things?”
“Donkey ears,” he said.
“Maybe you should see how well off they are,” Marcie said practically, ignoring the jibe. “You could be a kept man, only required to cook and look pretty. A lot easier than your current job.”
“Are you kidding? I know women. They’d be three times more demanding than Matt.”
She sniffed. “Janet claims nothing is more demanding than Matt.”
“Which is why she’s paid twice what we all are, to put up with him.”
“She wishes,” Marcie said. “I’m going to tell her you suggested it. Who does get the most obscene salary? I know Matt’s is the biggest, since he’s top of the pyramid. Salary, that is.” She shot him a mischievous look and he snorted.
“Who says we get paid? We come to work purely for the orgasmic joy of it. And that is an entirely inappropriate question, Marcella.”
She dimpled, but he saw her bemused reaction when he used her full name and said it in mock stern tone, which wasn’t far off from his actual stern tone. Both of which could catch her attention in intriguing ways. Most of the time. Her gaze had flickered past him.
“Ooh, more samples.”
He shook his head with a smile and followed her over to a crescent-shaped buffet of dip samples, coupled with the store’s recommended cracker selections. He put his hand on her arm, stopping her before she reached for one, and did it himself, swirling a cracked pepper and wheat cracker in the Cajun-style dip and offering it to her. She picked up the cues immediately and didn’t reach for it, instead parting her lips so he could place the quarter-sized cracker on her tongue.
He brushed her lips with his fingers as she closed her mouth and tasted the mix. Her brown eyes were thoughtful. “Pretty good. Spicy in the right way, not enough to sandblast out the flavor. May I have another, of that kind?” She gestured toward a ranch-style dip.
He used a ruffled chip to scoop it out and bring it to her lips. She licked at his fingers, getting his flesh and the salt of the chip, and he slid a knuckle along her soft cheek, the curve of her chin. She was gazing up at him. As incredibly ridiculous as it might seem, everything literally disappeared for him but her. Just her. He leaned in and spoke against her ear.
“I want to be inside you right now.” All the damn time.
She rested her hand on his chest, fingers curling against his shirt, so he felt the bite of her nails through it. There’d been times he hadn’t restrained her during sex, had allowed her to put her arms around him, and she’d damn near left furrows down his back. He took them as a performance review. He wasn’t exceeding expectations if she didn’t leave scars.
He moved his hand to the side of her throat, folding his palm over it. As always, he was struck with an odd mix of emotions at the slimness of her neck, the large size of his hand. How delicate she seemed, against how strong she had proven herself to be. Strong enough to take anything he needed to do to her, and fucking ask for more.
“I want you inside me, too, Master,” she whispered. “I want that all the time.” An echo of his own thoughts, no surprise.
He put his forehead against hers, his hand tightening, thumb sliding over her windpipe. Just a light pressure stroke, but enough to make her catch her breath, her pulse accelerating.
It was raining, he realized, at the same moment Marcie registered the mist of water hitting them. Her lust-fogged eyes cleared, and she started laughing as she saw Rachel squirting them with a spray bottle, probably snagged from the storeowner’s cleaning supplies.
“Dana told me to do it,” Rachel said to Ben hastily, holding up both her hands, the bottle in one. “It’s her fault.”
“I did not,” Dana said. “I’m blind. I can’t even see them getting all hot and bothered with each other over at the dip samples.”
“Right.” Ben snagged the bottle and lunged at them in mock retaliation. The two women scattered, Rachel catching Dana’s arm to guide her escape.
“Yeah, you better run,” he said, chuckling. He returned the bottle to the storeowner. “I’m sorry. I can’t take them anywhere.”
The woman, about sixty with bright blue eyes and a lovely riot of dyed brown hair, chuckled. “I handed her the bottle willingly. I was concerned the heat you and your friend were putting off were going to melt the cheese cake samples.”
“There are cheesecake samples?” Dana asked. “Where? Point me in the right direction.”
Ben angled her shoulders toward that compass point and nudged her that way, barely restraining the urge to give her a healthy slap on the ass. Rachel, too. But as indulgent as the storeowner was, Ben figured that would be over the line. He’d wait for the lingerie store. Hot Toddy had a nice BDSM section, complete with paddles. Or a switch. It was totally appropriate to try those out before buying, he was sure.
He returned to Marcie. She was considering the dips again, but now his girl had an endearing little frown on her face. She looked up at him as he joined her.
“I really am sorry I’m such a bad cook. It’s so frustrating. I think I’m doing it right, and then it goes wrong. Cass always says it’s just a matter of following the directions, but you don’t do directions at all. And it doesn’t matter, because I can’t do it right either way.”