Page 57 of Daring You

Nobody’s been able to do this to me, not any boy I’ve had, any man I’ve tried, not Mike, not anyone…except Ben. Mike’s entire dick doesn’t come close to what Ben’s index finger can do, and I twist into every curl, bend to every beckon, until eyes open or shut, all I see are black stars.

Six years ago, Ben did this to me. I went supple in his hands, allowed him to mold me like softened butter—the only man I’ve let come close to my heart.

Six years later, Ben’s acquired even better skills.

When I come, I do it without conscious thought, uncaring of how I may look or sound. I’m freed from chains that bind—the locks of reality. And I use his name as my anchor out of fantasy.

Panting, eyes half-lidded, Ben’s a blur, but I see a curve of pink—his smile.

Too soon, real life crash-lands into my chest. As if he can sense it, I watch Ben’s smile die on his lips as he lifts off, helping me into a seated position.

I notice, through his jeans, that he is rock hard.

“Do you still want me to go?” Ben’s voice is rough, like he’s scraped it over a blacksmith’s stone.

“I…I don’t know what I…” I shut my eyes tight, unwilling to start a war against my brain and my heart. “I think that’s best.”

He reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and I flinch. It’s not because of what he thinks, though, as his hand falls. It’s because I’m wondering if he still sees me as the cruel joke I once was.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

I shake my head. “Please go.”

The couch cushion shifts as he stands, and that’s my only clue that he’s doing as I ask. I can’t look at him as he adjusts himself and walks out. Can’t think upon the fact that the only reason he’s leaving is because I’ve asked him to.

He’d stay, if I wanted. We’d be naked in bed in less than a minute, and he’d give me all the pleasure I’ve been desperate for since we parted so severely all those years ago.

But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Our past is smeared because of a dare. And now…now I feel he’s hiding something. That maybe he’s only wanting to get physical with me as a distraction.

And both those times, I’ve felt used.

Ben knows exactly where I’m weak. I thought I was over it—I’ve been over it for years now, moved on, found a fiancé, was willing to marry someone who wasn’t Ben.

And all Ben had to do to unravel everything I’ve worked for, is look at me with desire.

“God, I’m an idiot.”

“What?” Ben pauses at the door.

“Nothing,” I say as I rise. I’m still that naive twenty-year-old who thinks she can fall in love with her brother’s best friend and have no consequences. “Goodbye, Ben.”

His hand stays on the doorframe. “Astor.”

“What?”

“Just think about what I said, okay? About the Delaney family.”

Slowly, my world darkens a shade further. “Right, because that’s why you’re here.”

“I don’t mean it like—”

“I’ll see you later, Ben.”

I make sure, this time, to summon the ice around my heart to swirl its deep freeze into my gaze.

Ben lowers his head and shuts the door.

It’s only when I’m sure he’s gone and hear the elevator ding its arrival and descent, that I fall back onto the couch and curl up tight.

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