Page 115 of Burn Bright
“I’m glad you’re trying out,” I tell him. “You’ll get that last time to feel like a bird. Be all Nelly Furtado on the ice.”
He laughs hard. His face is one beautiful smile. “You aren’t worried I might fly away?”
It hurts a little, even knowing he’s teasing. “Oh no, I am very worried.” I try to joke back. It comes off more serious than I intended.
“Don’t be,” he says softly. “Everything’s going to turn out okay, Friend.”
“What if you get third-degree sunburn? Or a splinter that causes a bacterial infection? You could accidentally chop off your hand?—”
“That’s not going to happen,” he laughs.
“Have you ever swung an axe before?”
“Yeah.”
“And chopped wood?”
“Yes,” he says like it’s not hard and common practice. Now I’m picturing outdoorsy Ben. Which has to be one of his natural states of mind, considering he loves the earth. Being stuck in the city isn’t where he’s meant to be.
All birds need to be set free, I realize, and maybe convincing him to stay would be like trapping a wild creature.
I tuck myself more to his side. Trying to be okay with his plan.
He cups the side of my head and scrunches my hair a few times. It’s so effortlessly comforting. I’m drawn to him. To his energy and affection, and there’s a sudden urge to want more. To be consumed by Ben Cobalt.
I look up at him.
He looks down. The electrical charge between us pumps my blood. It’s paddles to my heart. On impulse, I slide my leg over his waist and roll onto his lap.
My palms meet the back of his warm neck, and his large hands fall to the soft divots of my hips.
Ben drinks in my bare thighs around him, and I run my fingers over the ridges of his abs. I can feel his dick hardening against me as his gaze fixes back on mine.
“Harriet,” he breathes out a knotted breath of arousal. “We can’t do this.”
“Because we’re friends? Or because we’re in the living room?”
“Neither.” He rolls me off him so easily—as if I weigh nothing. My head sinks into the soft pillow. He sits up and watches me scowl at him. He smiles when he says, “Glare at me all you want, but it’s not happening.”
“Give me a good reason because you already rejected two.”
“You’re my guest,” he says, grabbing a pillow to put over his semi-hard cock—because it’s distracting me. He’s fucking huge. “I don’t want sex in return for you spending the night here.”
Oh…
My face is on fire. “That’s not why I crawled on top of you.”
“It might not be your intent, but you obviously have a history with sex being transactional. Am I wrong?”
No, he’s not. Our body counts might be considered high for our ages, but my number rose to twelve because I did get more than sex out of it. Most of my one-night stands came with a place to lie down for the night. A bathroom to freshen up in the morning.
“This…” I choke up a little. “This isn’t like all those other times though.” He’s searching my eyes as vigorously as I search his.
I’m not all mettle and guts because I struggle to say what’s in my head.
This isn’t the same, Ben.
I have feelings for you.
