Page 36 of The Barista's Beloved

“So are you.”

“Mmm. Planning to do something about it?”

She tightened her grip and he let out a quiet moan. “Maybe.”

“God, Maeve.” He slid his thumbs into her jeans and yanked them down over her hips without bothering to unzip them, dragging her panties with them. She kicked them off and reluctantly let go of him to return the favor. The second his jeans hit the floor, his arms were around her waist and he was picking her up and lunging toward the bed.

She laughed as he practically threw her down onto it. “Was there something you wanted?”

“You, Maeve. Always you.” He stared down at her, and she stopped laughing. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his pupils dilated with desire.

She reached up and pulled him to her. Their lips met, and she opened to the soft pressure of his tongue. His hands were everywhere, and hers weren’t far behind. She managed to get a solid handful of his perfect ass before he shifted, dragging his fingers down her side and over her thigh. He found her clit, circled it with precision, and she spared a moment to thank any deity she could think of that he was far better at this than he was at making coffee.

Then all thought was lost because his fingers were in her, and his mouth was on her, and she was riding a wave of pleasure that crested as she gasped his name. His fingers disappeared momentarily, but before she could protest, they were replaced by something much more satisfying as he slid inside her. He pressed deep and paused, both of them breathing hard. They stared at each other, and then Ben bent and kissed her again, their tongues tangling and breath mingling. And then he started to move, and she lost herself to the moment.

Pressure built, and she arched underneath him as he grabbed her hips and shifted both of them to a new angle. When he thrust home again, she barely held back a scream. He kept going, strong and steady, as he managed to hit every single pleasure center she possessed on each upward stroke. When his mouth found her nipple and bit lightly, she saw white light behind her eyes as she exploded into wild pleasure. She clutched his shoulders, digging her nails in, and rode out her orgasm as he slammed into her twice more before shuddering her name and thrusting wildly as he came long and hard.

The second time, they moved to the rug, and Maeve thought she’d never come so hard in her life as she did with the whispery tickles of the rug against her skin and the warm heat of Ben above her. He leaned his forehead against hers, still inside her, both of them breathing hard. She didn’t want him to move, wanted to keep him over her and in her and all around her forever.

“I’m going to buy one of these rugs,” he whispered. She felt herself tighten around him involuntarily and he jerked a little, both of them shuddering through aftershocks brought on by the thought of doing this again and again. She didn’t know what exactly was in his head, but she imagined the two of them on a giant fur rug in the middle of her living room and couldn’t help but let out a little moan.

Eventually, they made it back to the bed and collapsed together in a tangled pile of limbs. When she woke up, he was curled around her, her head pillowed on his arm and his lips pressed against her shoulder even in sleep.

She breathed deeply, taking in the scent of sex and Ben, and smiled. Snagging the suite had definitely been a good idea. When he’d told her that he’d gotten tickets to see Ireland play, she’d been ridiculously charmed by his thoughtfulness; she’d mentioned liking rugby maybe once in passing. That lawyer brain of his was like a steel trap, apparently. He remembered everything from her favorite coffee order to her least favorite pair of shoes.

Speaking of his lawyer brain …

She twisted within the circle of his arms and rolled to face him, discovering him watching her sleepily.

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured.

“Youth Mentors.” She answered honestly, without thinking.

He raised an eyebrow. “We’re naked in bed and you’re thinking about your volunteer organization? I thought I did better than that.”

She snorted out a laugh. “If you do any better I won’t be able to walk for a week. I was thinking about you, and your sexy brain.”

He looked faintly amused. “You think my brain is sexy?”

She nodded. “Of course I do.” She shifted, tucking herself closer in to him, and his arms tightened around her. “Tell me honestly; do you think the motion you filed will work? Will the developers back off?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I threw the kitchen sink at them. And I know what I’m doing, Maeve. I don’t mean to brag, but I always get my man. So to speak.” He smirked, and something in her belly twisted unexpectedly. His tone was oddly similar to Steve’s when he’d talked about ‘closing the deal,’ just one of the many red flags about the other lawyer she’d ignored.

But Ben wasn’t like that, she told herself. Ben was good, and kind … and the exact same kind of corporate lawyer, her annoying brain reminded her. He’d admitted himself that he’d never been on the same side as places like Youth Mentors. He’d always been the bad guy.

Maeve shook her head. She had to trust him. She’d already trusted him. He’d proven himself over and over again, and she didn’t need to worry. She didn’t dare think too far into the future, but nobody who made love like Ben did could possibly be a bad guy. Her legendary bad luck streak with men was finally over. It had to be.

---