Page 32 of Standing Still

“He’s a big one,” he laughs.

“Oh my God,” I put a hand to my face as he unhooks the fish and holds it up. It’s wriggling in his hands, its little mouth opening and closing as it gulps in the air. “Throw it back!” I yell.

“What?” he looks up at me with an incredulous laugh.

“Put him back. He’s going to die.” I know I sound like an idiot, but I didn’t come out here to murder innocent fish. Even if it is his livelihood and he doesn’t see them the same way I do.

“You don’t want me to cook your catch for you later?” He’s holding the poor thing in front of him.

“God no.”

“Elle, since you got back, do you know how many fish you’ve eaten?”

“Please, look at him,” I say desperately.

“You’re serious?” he shakes his head when he sees I’m not messing around. He walks to the edge of the boat and tosses the fish back in. “You were happy when you caught him,” he tells me.

“Well, yeah but, that doesn’t mean I want to kill him and eat him. And yes, I know it’s irrational. Sue me.” He just stands there looking at me like I’m nuts. “Besides, what makes you think I’ll be having dinner with you tonight?” I cross my arms.

“Because I’m in charge of your plans for the rest of the weekend, remember?”

I roll my eyes and turn to get a drink out of the cooler just as the boat rocks, making me lose my feet, I stumble forward, pushing my hands out to break the fall I’m about to have, but Ben is there in a split second, his strong arms come around me, stopping me from face planting the bottom of the boat. I glance up to thank him, because that could have been a total disaster, but the words die in my throat.

Ben is staring at me again, but it’s different from before. He isn’t looking at me like he thinks I’m insane. There is something much hotter in this look. His hands tighten around my waist. As my hair blows across my face, he releases one hand and reaches up to move it back, his eyes never leaving mine. I should pull away. This is a complication neither of us need, but… I don’t want him to let go.

My lips part, but I’m not sure what words are about to fall out of my mouth. His eyes drop to my lips, his grip on my waist tightens. I barely breathe when the hand holding my hair back traces over my cheek bone, his thumb moving like a feather over my lower lip.

“Shit,” he whispers and steps back.

I feel the loss, like something has ripped out of me.

“Why do you look like you wished I hadn’t pulled away?” he asks me.

His fists clench, and he looks as if he is vibrating out of his skin. I don’t dare look away from him. My head is still warring with me. This is all kinds of wrong. Ben is trying to convince me to stay in Mystic and follow my father’s insane demands.

He could be doing this with that agenda. But if that is the case, why did he pull back? I don’t think Ben would use me like that. He shakes his head as if pulling himself back to reality and the moment is going to be lost.

It's been so damn long since someone looked at me like this. I’ve been allowing my head to fill with thoughts of Ben since I gotback here. It isn’t about reminiscing about the past that is behind us and has such bittersweet memories. This is about now.

I can’t deny I’m attracted to him, or that I’ve spent every waking hour thinking about him in some way. Mostly about our problem, but then my mind always goes back to other things.

He's been kind, helpful, trying to figure things out when he could have been a complete asshole. These things swirl through my head as I take a step up to him. He holds his ground, his brow puckering slightly as he studies me. God, if he pulls away again, I’m going to be so embarrassed. It will complicateeverythingbut damn, just for once, can’t I do something for myself... No matter how this plays out and what decision I come to, being with Ben likely won’t be an option long term, but hell, I need him. I know in my heart this is the only chance we’ll get.

The question is, do I want to take it?

I put a hand on his chest and step closer. He doesn’t take those piercing eyes off me, but they’re darkening. His heart is pounding against my hand on his chest. Still, he waits. He wants me to make the first move. Screw it.

When I press my lips against his, his hand clamps on my waist again. His lips are gentle, yielding as I taste them for the first time in fifteen years. His beard tickles, but I find it doesn’t bother me. It’s different. His chest is firmer and more muscular, everything about him is different, but better. Then he takes control, he pulls me into him and his mouth parts for me.

I clutch his shirt, my elbows tucked in tight as his arms go around me, holding me tightly against him. His tongue enters my mouth, and my knees weaken. Ben always was the best kisser, but this… I’m melting. One of his hands leaves my waist, and he cups the side of my face and angles is slightly, his hand lowering down my throat, holding me in place as he devours my mouth. He quite literally takes the breath from my body.

We falter as a wave bumps the boat, but Ben plants his feet wider and holds me closer, so I don’t fall. The move has me unable to getaway from the obvious hardening of his dick against my thighs. I can’t stop the moan that escapes me and that spurs him on even more. He pulls back, not for long though as he turns me, pushing me back against the glass door that leads to the inside of the boat.

I clutch at his arms as he grabs my ass with one hand, trailing it down my thigh and lifting it so my leg wraps around his hip. He’s thrusting himself against me as we kiss harder. I curse my jeans, and his as I writhe on him, desperate for more. He is too, because his hand cups my breast and I gasp into his mouth. He pulls back and looks at me, his gaze intense and lust filled eyes. He hasn’t let go of my breast or my ass. I grab his collar and pull him back. He has no choice but to kiss me again.

Then the loud blast of a horn has me jumping, and Ben pulls back and turns to see a boat coming alongside ours. I can hear the music now and laughter. I was so lost in the kiss, I didn’t even notice this obnoxious party boat approaching.

“Jesus,” Ben groans, and let’s go of me, my leg dropping back down.

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