Page 121 of Between the Blue
“Just stop and go to sleep already,” he grits.
“Oh, yeah,” I deadpan. “Because I’m so relaxed now.”
“I’m not taking the bed, so it’s ridiculous for you to stay on the floor.”
“You’re the ridiculous one! You’ve been complaining for hours that you have a big game tomorrow!” I fire back, slipping sideways out from under Ben. “Just take the bed–”
He yanks me back by my arm, pulling the wind out of me and sending my back smacking flat back down on the mattress.
“Would you just–” Ben begins, but cuts off as I try to sit up and he has to force me back down.
“Just–” he tries again, but I continue to squirm beneath him, so he presses me down harder.
I have to take a moment to catch my breath, and that’s when everything comes into focus.
Ben on top of me. One of his hands pressed against the left side of my clavicle, the other at the top of my right hip. His face so close that I can make out the amber of his eyes and can feel his minty breath fanning across my lips.
The heat of himeverywhere.
I find myself swallowing, and I think that’s the moment it all sets in for Ben too. His eyes widen a fraction, his breathing deepening.
“Just what?” I whisper.
Ben’s lips roll together, his neck straining. “Stop fighting me.”
“Okay,” I breathe.
His brows pull together, and I reach up, grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt. “But, for the record, you’re the one who’s been fighting me all week.”
Ben’s eyes fall shut, and he presses his forehead to mine, letting out a heavy sigh through his nose. “I know,” he mutters so quietly that it’s almost inaudible.
“We could share the bed, you know,” I offer.
Ben’s fingers instantly tighten around my upper thigh, and I can feel his head shake against my own. “Cherry…”
“What?”
“We can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he says. “We don’t… I don’t think we want the same things.”
Without a second thought, I reach for his hand where it rests on my hip. Interlacing my fingers with his, I slide it up my inner thigh and into the opening of my shorts, pulling my own hand away allowing his fingers to slide against the fabric of my panties at my center.
Ben lets out a hiss, dropping his forehead to my shoulder.
“Why are you all wet?” he mutters into my neck, sliding his fingers against the damp cotton.
I reach down, easily finding and pressing my palm against his hard length straining against his shorts, causing him to groan.
“What was it you were saying about what we want?” I exhale.
Ben stiffens, lifting his head up to meet my eyes. He starts to open his mouth to say something, but I take advantage of his brief moment of distraction, gripping him around the waist and rolling both of us over so that I’m straddling him now.
“Jesus Christ,” Ben mutters.
“How about this?” I say, leaning in close to him. “I tell you something I want, then you tell me something you want.”
