Page 33 of Dark Ink

Ben’s grin turns impish, but instead of setting me on edge, it lights up a fire in my lower belly.

“Of course you can. You’re welcome to sit in my lap.” He straightens in the chair, smoothing his pants, inviting my gaze to his hips.

I scoff, thinking that he’s joking, but he raises an eyebrow in that almost forgotten flirtatious way. Should I do it? Put my ass on his crotch only to feel what that’s like? Do I even want to?

I want to.The tension between us has been building ever since the kiss. Nothing else has happened since then. It was surprising and at the time I wasn’t in a headspace to do anything about it. For me, men equate to people who could hurt me. With the exception of Damien and Mathias, of course. But I never excluded Ben from that list.

And now, as I see him as non-threatening, like a king in that chair I detest so much, maybe it’s time. Maybe he can make the list of men who are not horrible.

So I come behind the desk. He shifts but doesn’t allow me a lot of space. He clearly wants me to wrap myself around him, to push my body near his, to do something I might regret and love at the same time.

“You wanted to see the camera feed, right?” he asks.

I nod quietly, peering across to the screen. There’s a grid of nine tiny rectangle feeds and I can see everything that’s going on in grainy black-and-white detail.

I can see the girls and the boys in the private rooms, where the cleaners are, and the bar area. The hallways are all clear of cameras because Penelope doesn’t want to advertise how much of this place is being monitored until staff and customers are in their little rooms and it’s too late to backtrack.

It’s a fail-safe, for sure, but also an extortion method, a way to make sure that everyone stays compliant. The clients. The staff. Anyone caught on these cameras is screwed if the police ever got hold of them. Everything will unravel—who’s here, why they’re here, and how often.

A lot of what is happening on the screens is actually not that scary. There are two girls who are dancing in the rooms. Three other girls are just lying next to unconscious men. They’ve had to use the syringe and I’m glad to see it’s helpful to them. But also it’s very obvious that if Valerie ever decides to use her brain for more than calculating how to make people’s lives miserable, she will be able to tell that there’s too much sleeping going on and not enough fucking.

Ben outstretches his arm toward me, pulling me back to a lighter headspace. His palm is big and smooth, and it’s as if he’s inviting me to a dance. I take it. Unexpectedly, he pulls me forward and I fall into him.

And with that one tug, the tug of the desire I’ve been ignoring returns.

I’m in his lap now, my face pressed to his chest. I can hear the unsteady rhythm of his heart loud and clear. No matter how in control he seems, he’s excited by our encounter too.

He doesn’t know I’ve never been held like this—with affection and a lack of rush that puts me at ease. When a man is usually this close to me, he wants to take, take, take. So I give them my body and retreat into my soul. But right now, I’m fully present. My body ad soul both tremble in anticipation of Ben’s next move.

When he doesn’t do anything, I smile and take a deep breath. My hand starts exploring his chest, my fingers running across the thin fabric of his shirt, feeling a taut nipple. I want to lick it just to see his reaction, but I’m not brave enough.

He embraces me tentatively, without restricting my movement. I can get up and leave if I want to, which makes me press into him even closer.

His arms around me are not like the cage anyone else’s arms might be. They don’t feel like heavy shackles. They are warm and comforting. I melt into him, my breath steadying. I hadn’t realized how much I needed a hug because even though our operation of saving people is going great, the reality of things is that we’re still stuck until something drastic and dramatic happens to completely shake the foundation upon which Lavender is built. I’m destined to look at this vicious circle of new people coming to be hurt, only to be rescued by us, until something changes.

I’m a constant here. I want to believe that Ben is a constant, too. Because in this dark world, he’s my only star. Someone has to save Damien, too. But we can’t do that; we don’t have the power. We don’t have the means.

Although these depressing thoughts flit across my mind as usual, there is a louder voice coming through now. A voice that chants,kiss him, kiss him, kiss him.

Because he’s so close and he smells so good and his arms feel just right.

I look up and meet his half-lidded gaze. A question is there.

And I have the answer in my parted lips.

I scoot up, stopping a breath away from his mouth. But before I can let myself get lost in his soft lips, I need to know something.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

“Why areyouhere?” he asks in return. His breath plays on my face, warm and inviting.

I was hoping to get a straight answer, but thinking back, he’s never actually done that. He’s been great around me in any other possible way. But when I ask him a question, he usually finds a way to divert it, to ask something else, or to get me talking to someone else. Not tonight. It’s impossible to ignore the fact that we’re both somewhere we shouldn’t be.

“Please,” I say. “Answer meonce. It will make things so much clearer and so much better if I know what I’m dealing with. Are you on my side? Are you onourside?”

Something flashes in his eyes, and I pull back a little. It was the wrong thing to ask.

“I don’t know why. I think… I can’t,” he whispers. It seems like there’s a battle inside him. His eyes dart across the room and his hands tighten around me.

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