Page 63 of Secret Nights and Northern Lights
“Ems.” He smiles down at me, kisses the center of my forehead. “Tell me what you really want.”
I take a deep breath, remind myself who I’m with, and say, “If you want to get the condom, I’m completely fine with that. But if you don’t, I’m more than okay with that, too.”
“As long as you’re okay with it”—he trails his lips over my cheek to the corner of my mouth—“I’d love to be inside you with nothing between us.”
“Yes, Ben, please.” I’m already reaching for his hips, guiding him against me.
Our mouths merge as I feel the press of him between my legs, then the escalating friction as he eases inside me. When he fills me up completely, I swear I see stars behind my eyes.
“It’s so fucking good,” Ben moans, finding a slow rhythm that sends me soaring. “Nothing could ever feel better than this. You’re it for me. I swear to god, you’ve always been it for me.”
His words are a balm to my old wounds, transforming them into faded scars.
“I’m already close,” I say, embarrassed at my lack of stamina.
He grins. “It’s okay, I’ve been close since I saw you in Cal’s office.”
Laughter bursts out of me, despite the fact that Ben’s currently thrusting into me. “Please donotbring up Calvin right now.”
Ben’s laughing now, too, and I wonder if this is what a relationship with him would be like as an adult. Laughter and sex and inside jokes. A history longer than a CVS receipt. A friendship greater than any I’ve ever known. Someone to always keep my secrets.
I want all of those things so much it becomes hard to breathe if I really think about it, and that’s a dangerous line of thinking anyway. Giving myself to someone in this way, knowing he could destroy my heart for good this time. And yet, it’s too late to hold any part of myself back from him. “More, Ben,” I say, hitching my thighs around his hips. “More.”
He pins my wrists over my head and drives into me harder. My mouth seeks out his, and I whisper against his lips, “Please come with me.”
Groaning, he slides a hand down between my legs and rubs circles against my clit, and that’s all it takes to throw me over the edge, spasms racking my body in one wave of pleasure after another. Ben follows behind, his movements erratic as he presses his hips into mine and we’re both left breathlessly spent.
We lie twisted in the bedsheets for a long while, me holding Ben in my arms, the stars sparkling in the sky beyond the window, those special three words floating through my chest, winding around my heart, almost spilling from my lips. But I hold them back. Because even after fourteen years, I don’t think I’d survive saying them and not hearing them back again.
And for now, for tonight, this will do.
Chapter 19
Tip #14 when visiting Iceland:Sometimes life gives you orca whales, but sometimes they’re pilot whales that look nothing like Free Willy at all.
I end up getting my late-night sleepover after all.
When I emerge from the bathroom in clean underwear, Ben is dressed in his gray sweatpants and rummaging through his suitcase, now placed next to mine in the loft. He looks up and spots me in the doorway and a nervous grin forms on his lips. “I, uh, don’t want to be presumptuous here, but is it okay if I stay with you tonight?”
My heart might explode from the hopeful look in his eyes, the chivalrous way he always asks and never assumes, although there’s something kind of heartbreaking about that, too. “Yeah, Ben. I want you to stay with me.”
I make my way over to our luggage, but instead of takinganything from mine, I grab one of his perfectly rolled T-shirts and pull it over my head. I sweep my hair from the back of the collar and peer up at him, and his eyes heat all over again.
“That looks really fucking hot on you,” he says, pulling me into his arms.
His mouth immediately goes to my neck, but as good as it all feels, I’m not sure I’ll survive round two without sustenance. “Ben.” I press against his chest. “I’m really fucking hungry.”
He pulls back with a soft smile. “Well, let’s get you fed then.”
We slip back downstairs and dine on cold pizza and warm sangria, and somehow it’s the best meal I’ve had in years. Ben finishes off a slice while standing over the deep sink on the opposite side of the island, and after he swallows the last bite of crust, his mouth quirks into a grin that makes me self-conscious.
“What?” I ask, preemptively swiping at my chin for missed crumbs. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Ben shakes his head. “I’m just really happy, that’s all.”
If my heart swells any bigger, I’m not sure I’ll be able to contain it. “I’m really happy, too.”
Abandoning the rest of my crust in the cardboard box, I make my way around the island and squeeze myself into the space between Ben and the countertop, my hands coming to rest on his hips. “I can’t believe the way this all worked out,” I say. “I mean, of all the photographers in New York, the factyouended up on this assignment with me? That has to be fate, right?”
