Page 30 of The Barista's Beloved

Her eyes found his again. “Come inside, Ben.”

He wanted to. God, how he wanted. But he hadn’t kept his feelings to himself all these weeks to lose her now. He’d rather have Maeve in his life forever as a friend than to spend one night in her bed only for everything to implode the next day.

“I can’t, Maeve.”

Her eyes fell, and her shoulders slumped in on themselves. She took a step back and then turned toward the door, his fingers sliding from hers as she moved to unlock her door. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“I want to,” he rushed to say, stepping up behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders. He couldn’t not touch her. Not after what she’d just offered. “You have no idea how badly.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, and the look in her eyes nearly undid him. Pain. Embarrassment. Doubt. “Then why?”

Ben pulled a deep breath into his lungs and pressed his front to her back, close enough that she could feel the full extent of his desire. His palms coasted down her arms and then back up, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His head fell forward so that his mouth hovered near her ear. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” she whispered. “We won’t let that happen.”

“Do you promise?” His blood spiked with anticipation. He’d tried to do the right thing, but if Maeve was committed to keeping their friendship intact, he could be, too.

At the furthest recesses of his brain, Ben recognized that he was rationalizing his next move. He had no idea what would happen tomorrow, but the truth was, he’d convince himself of anything if it meant he got to have her. Even if it was just for now.

She nodded, her hand twisting the doorknob. “I promise.”

He dropped a feather-light kiss on the nape of her neck, and she shivered in his arms. “Then open the door, Maeve.”

* * *

The secondthey stepped over her threshold, Ben scooped Maeve into his arms. She squeaked in surprise, but then her arms went around his neck as his mouth came down to meet hers. No hesitancy, no delay. He’d waited weeks for this moment, and now that it was here, he wasn’t going to waste any more time.

“Bedroom?” he asked against her lips.

She untangled her arms and pointed somewhere to the left. Ben raised his eyes long enough to see a narrow hallway, and made his way for it.

“Second door on the left,” she said, pressing her mouth to his neck when he paused to figure out which door was hers.

In seconds, he had her splayed out on her bed, her wet clothes clinging to her curves. He stood over her, marveling at how beautiful she looked. How did he get so goddamn lucky? “Maeve, I ...” He paused, unsure of what he’d been about to say. He wanted to tell her that she was everything, but the words got stuck in his throat.

“Me too, Ben.” She raised her hand to beckon him closer.

He took hold of it and put one knee on the mattress. He leaned over her and brushed a few loose strands of hair away from her face. “No regrets.”

She smiled up at him. “No regrets.”

When their lips met this second time, he kissed her slowly. Tenderly. Maeve wasn’t a woman you rushed with, no matter how badly your body might be urging you to. You took the time to savor every bit of her.

She sighed, and arched her back to give him better access. Ben coasted a trail of kisses down her neck to her chest, still dewy from the rain. He licked the droplets from her skin, and she shivered. He continued his downward descent, and when he placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss over her breast, Maeve moaned.

“I need to feel you,” she said, sitting up and tugging her dress off over her head. His clothes followed, and then his eyes drank her in—every curve and valley—before he went back to worshipping her with his mouth.

“That feels so good,” she breathed out, her Irish lilt becoming more pronounced.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he moved down her body. “You drive me wild.”

“You too,” she answered, tangling her hands in his hair. “The first time I saw you—”

Her words died on her lips when Ben’s mouth crested the rise of her belly and ventured south. “The first time I saw you,” he said, picking up where she’d left off, “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever met.” His finger slipped inside of her and she gasped when he found her clit. “And I told myself if I ever got to do this with you, I was going to do it right.”

Her hips bucked forward and he sank deeper. “I want you so bad, Ben.”

“Me too, Maeve.” His muscles bunched as he went to rise from the bed to grab protection. Her hand on his wrist made him freeze.

Her eyes found his and their gazes held. “I’m on birth control. And clean.”

His breath caught in his throat and his heart kicked against his chest. He couldn’t be sure, but it might have stopped beating for a few seconds at the implication of those six words.

Up until now, if you’d have asked Ben if he’d had good sex, he’d have said of course. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Because whatever this was with Maeve was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It wasn’t about two people using the other’s body to get off. They had a real connection, one he hoped would last a lifetime. Being with her meant something. He couldn’t say what, but he knew it was a shifting point in his life: before Maeve, and after. And they hadn’t even made it to the main event yet.

“I’m clean too,” he said slowly. The trust she was putting in him blew his mind. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “If I only get to have this with you this one time, I want all of you.”

So that was exactly what he gave her. Twice. And when they finally drifted off to sleep several hours later, Ben knew he’d never be the same.

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