Page 85 of Rebellious Hearts
When Ben got out, Luke pulled away.
“I was a dick,” he started.
“What?”
“To Luke. I have a temper, and when something doesn’t go my way, I have a tantrum like a child.”
I blinked at him. “That’s quite a confession.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m all about confessions today, apparently.”
I shook my head. “Ben…”
“I know,” he said before I could put what I felt into words. “I know all of this isn’t how things usually work. No one goes out there, looking—or not looking—for a soulmate, and endsup pretending to be married to someone for the sake of a job opportunity.”
My head spun when he saidsoulmate.
“Ben, I can’t,” I said. “I can’t let this happen. I can’t give up my job just because someone is in love with me.”
Ben frowned. “I’m not asking you to give anything up. I’m not asking foranything. I’m just telling you, I’m falling for you.”
He took my hands in his, his eyes drowning deep, the hazel turning to a dark chocolate brown. “I don’t talk about my feelings often. Hardly anyone knows who I really am. Aside from Luke and Amy, you’re the only person I’ve been able to talk to. That means something to me. If I can be myself around you, I want to be around you more. Because I like you, and I like who I am around you. I know it sounds selfish, but—”
“It doesn’t. I like who you are when you’re around me, too.”
Ben’s eyes searched my face, and then he smiled. He cupped my cheek, traced a line along my cheekbone, pushed the hair that had escaped my ponytail behind my ear.
“I’m not good at this,” Ben said. “I’m not good at anything more than a one-night stand. I’m bound to screw up because one-night stands are all I know. But I know I don’t want that with you. I don’t want you to leave. The rest I’m sort of flying blind with, so if I make a mistake, it’s not you. It’s me.”
I chuckled. “The oldit’s not you, it’s me speech, huh?”
“Well…” Ben laughed. “I guess so. But this is the good kind. Because with you, I can be honest. I can tell you that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I can tell you that I’m scared as fuck about this whole thing because I’ve never been here. I’ve never felt this way about someone. All I know is that whatever this is… I don’t want it to go away.” He cupped my other cheek and tilted my chin up. “I don’t wantyouto go away.”
He kissed me, and fuck it, I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know how to tell him that this couldn’t work, that he hadto stop falling for me. Because I was falling for him too, and when he kissed me like this, touched me like this, all I wanted was to be his.
I didn’t pay attention to how we got to the hotel room. As soon as we were in the elevator, we were all over each other. Ben kissed my neck, and my hand slid down his stomach, over the bulge in his pants.
His hands roamed my body—one in my hair, one sliding down to my ass. And then sliding to my breast, kneading, massaging until I ached for him.
By the time we stumbled into his suite, we were already shedding clothes. He kicked the door closed and pulled his shirt over his head, grabbing it at the back of his neck. His abs were delicious, and I dragged my nails lightly over him so that his breath came in shaky gasps. He pulled me closer, kissing me again, his hands pushing up my shirt. His palms were hot against my skin, and he pulled my shirt over my head. He found the clasp of my bra, undid it with ease, and my bra ended up on the floor, too.
Ben dipped his head, kissing his way from my collarbone to one nipple. He licked and sucked my nipple, and his other hand moved to my free breast, his fingers working magic against my skin. I arched my back and moaned. It was everything. The sensations of his lips and tongue and his fingers, his skin hot against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he lifted me off the ground. He carried me, still sucking my nipple, until we reached the bedroom. He tossed me on the bed, and I giggled.
He grabbed my trainers and pulled them off one by one. He got rid of my socks and slid his hands up my legs.
“Hmm,” he said, looking at me, sliding his hands higher and higher. “Do you have any idea how hot you look in these?”
I blushed.
“So hot… I want to take them off you.” He winked at me. “They’re really nice leggings, but they’ll look even better on my floor.”
I giggled. “Do you always use such cliché lines during sex?”
“No,” he said. “Usually I reserve my charm.”
“Well, aren’t I lucky.” I laughed, but when he pressed his fingers against my crotch, my breath hitched in my throat.
He rubbed me through my leggings, and the friction was amazing. My clit throbbed, and I wanted his touch.
