He shrugged. “I like being with you.”

Her chest tightened. She’d wanted this, oh, God, how much she wanted this. And now she was going to have to ruin it.

You ruined it a long time ago…

“You were at Reading Corner,” he said, halfway through his burrito. “Lucille told me.”

“Yes,” she said. “Your girls were there. They’re so smart, Ben.”

“I know. Dan’s working on custody.”

Her breath caught. “Really? How wonderful for all of them.” She paused. “You did that. You brought them together. You gave those girls a real family.”

He shrugged.

“It’s amazing,” she said. “You’re amazing.”

“No. I just couldn’t stand it, them not having anyone. I had my aunt Dee.” He ran his thumb over the backs of her knuckles. “Without her and Jack…” He shook his head. “I’d have fallen through the cracks. I probably wouldn’t even be here.”

Her heart squeezed. “You saved them from falling through the cracks. You gave them so much, Ben.”

He busied himself with cleaning up the trash and shoving it back into the bag the food had come in. Then he balled it, aimed for the trash can twenty feet across the room, and shot.

The bag swooshed into the can.

And still he stayed quiet.

“Did I upset you?” she asked.

“No. I like the way you care about stuff,” he said. “You aren’t quiet about it, and though you’re reserved, you aren’t shy. When you have your heart and soul in something, you’re in it.”

Her breath caught. Had anyone ever gotten her the way he did? No. And that’s when she knew. Truth was, she’d known for a damn long time. She had her heart and soul in something, all right—him. She closed her eyes and gave herself a lecture. Don’t you sleep with him. Don’t you dare. Not until you tell him…

He turned his hand over and entangled his fingers with hers. “I like the way you care,” he said again. “I like the way you care about me.”

“Is that why you’re here?” she asked, heart pounding. “And not at the Winter Festival?”

“I’m the seniors’ ride, but wasn’t in the mood for a crowd. I have to go back to get them later,” he said, and he rose. “I’ll take my spoils now.”

Oh, God. “We should play another game,” she said quickly, and jumped up, heading to the dartboard. “We’ll make it the best of two out of three—”

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, and he turned, effectively caging her in between the hard wall and his harder body. “You reneging?” he asked, mouth against her ear.

“No, but—” She sucked in a breath as his hands roamed over her, molding the shirt to her curves. “I was just thinking it might be more fair if—”

He whipped her around to face him and then backed her to the kitchen counter, lifting her to it.

Her bare ass touched the cold surface, and she yelped.

“I claim you,” he said, and his lips descended on hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and traced her tongue over his lower lip, knowing it drove him wild.

Pinning her with his big body, he let her feel what she did to him. “I’ve got a question,” he said. “A serious one.”

Her heart skidded to a stop. Oh, God. “Okay,” she whispered tentatively.

“What are you wearing beneath my shirt?”

She stared at him. “Not much,” she confessed.

This made him swear roughly, reverently. She laughed again and then realized that whenever she was with him, she was laughing, or smiling.

Or having an orgasm.

It’d been a long time since she’d had someone like him in her life. Maybe since…ever. But even as the warm fuzzies washed over her, so did fear. Because this was all an illusion; he wasn’t really hers. And at that thought, her smile faded.

His did, too. “Should I go, Aubrey?”

“You mean…leave? Now?”

“If you want.”

“No.” She knew she should be embarrassed by how quickly she answered, but she felt only panic at the thought of him leaving. “Don’t go.”

There. She’d said it. She’d put it out there and couldn’t, wouldn’t, take it back. Tomorrow would be a different story, and she’d face that then, but for now, right this very minute, she knew what she needed.

Him.

Inside of her.

Ben caught her close and slowly lowered his head to hers, giving her plenty of time to stop him.

Fat chance of that. Not only did she not stop him, she grabbed him and pulled him even closer.

He was smiling when he kissed her, his lips fitting smoothly over hers. Then he straightened and kicked off his shoes and tore his shirt over his head. “It’s only fair to even the score,” he said.

“So you’re being a gentleman by stripping?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll help,” she said, and unbuttoned and unzipped him so she could slide her hand inside his jeans.

Ben groaned, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent loft, a hotly erotic sound. “Ben?”

He cupped her face and deepened the kiss, and when she was completely lost, he slid his hands beneath the hem of the big T-shirt and cupped her bare bottom. “Mmm,” he said, low and husky. Tugging her closer, he continued moving against her so that she could hardly breathe. “Aubrey?”

“Yes?”

“Be sure.” Pulling back, he looked deep into her eyes, probably searching for a sign that she was going to regret this. “If I stay tonight,” he said, “I’m going to be in your bed in about five seconds. I’m going to make love to you until neither of us can walk.”

The words brought a rush of heat. “Was that supposed to scare me off?” she asked.

The faintest of smiles crossed his mouth as he pulled the shirt off her, tossing it behind him, leaving her bare to his gaze. He looked his fill with a groan, and then looked some more.

She was shaking for him. “Ben, I want—”

“Want? Or need?”

He was going to tease her now? “Need, damn it. I need—”

“Me.” His fingers skimmed up her inner thighs and then in between, making her forget to worry about what exactly he would decide to claim as his spoils, making her forget her stupid list, making her forget just about everything, including her own name. “Say it, Aubrey.” He was at her ear, the words hot along her skin. His lips grazed her earlobe, and a rush of heat shot hard and fast southward.

“Yes,” she managed as he took her to the bed, pinning her to the mattress beneath his delicious weight. “You. I need you.” Only you…

“How?” he asked, voice husky as the tip of his tongue played with her nipple before sucking it hard between his hot tongue and the roof of his mouth.

“Th—that,” she said on a moan.

“Me kissing you?” He switched to her other breast and gave it the same torturous teasing. “Is that what you want?”

His questing fingers were inching closer and closer to where she needed them, close but not…quite…getting there. “And your fingers!” she gasped, giving up and arching into him.

He rewarded her with both, kissing her hard as his fingers traced their way up her thighs, and then between. The touch nearly levitated her off the bed, would have for certain if she hadn’t been anchored by his body. Applying pressure in the exact right spot, his lips—God, those lips, doing diabolical things to her as well—combined the sensations so that her head spun, and she cried out.

“Anything you want,” he murmured against a breast. “You want me to touch you? My mouth on you? My hands gripping your h*ps as I sink in and out of you until we’re both screaming each other’s name?”

She let her eyes drift closed as her lips parted on a “God, yes…” He was still just playing with her, but she was done playing. Fisting her hands in his hair, she pulled his mouth to hers. He let her control the kiss, and another, and another. Finally he lifted his head, gave her a wickedly naughty smile, and took over, shifting down her body, kissing every inch he passed. He didn’t stop until he’d made himself at home between her legs, holding them open with his shoulders.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, nipping first one inner thigh, and then the other, and then…in between. “Say the magic words, Aubrey. Tell me what you want now.”

“Your mouth, I need your mouth.”

He gave it to her, and her breathing hitched, and then stopped altogether. Her blood seemed to flow through her veins like liquid fire. White-hot, pulsing need ripped through her as he gave her exactly what she wanted.

When she’d stopped shuddering, he was resting his head on her belly, watching her recover.

“Now you,” she said, reaching for him. “I want to feel you inside me. Please, Ben. Inside me now.”

He rose up. “Wrap your legs around me.” His voice was rough, his hands gentle, as he slid his hand up her legs and directed them around his hips. He sank into her, hard. Perfect.

Their groans of pleasure commingled in the air. Leaning over her, he bent low and kissed her—fervent, erotic, rough, and wild.

Her body, already on fire for him, erupted again. Ben’s hands slid to her hips, cupped her ass, and, lifting her up against him, he thrust deep. It was enough to have her crying out, arching against him in an attempt to draw him even deeper. “Yes,” she moaned, clutching at him. “Like that.”

He growled low in his throat as he gave her what she wanted, on his terms. Slow. Purposeful. Taking her to the point of no return and beyond, to a place where she couldn’t have said what she wanted next if her life had depended on it.

It didn’t matter. Ben seemed to know exactly what she wanted. That was the thing about him. He instinctively knew when to be aggressive, when to be gentle and coaxing, and, best of all, he knew how to drive every last worry right out of her mind.

Chapter 25

A long time later, they collapsed on the bed, gasping, sweaty, breathing like lunatics. Ben threw a hand over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath, because though he could lie smooth as silk when he wanted to, he never lied to himself.

This wasn’t just sex between him and Aubrey. This was love.

“I need to talk to you,” she said.

“Okay.”

She was quiet so long that he dropped his arm from his eyes and turned his head.

She was looking at him, eyes shimmering with a suspicious sheen. “It’s about my list,” she said softly. “You’re on it.”

Ben stared at her. “You said I wasn’t.”

“I…misled you.”

He took this in for a full minute, running through his memories and coming up completely blank. “I don’t understand. What did you ever do to me?”

She sat up and reached for his shirt again, pulling it back over her head and down to mid-thigh.

Covering herself from him.

He wasn’t liking this much. “Aubrey.”

“Don’t you want to put something on?” she asked.

“After you answer me.”

She ran a hand over her eyes, and he realized her fingers were shaking. “I’m trying,” she said. “I’ve been trying for a while.” She shook her head. “No, that’s a lie. I didn’t know how to tell you. It’s been killing me slowly, but I—” She broke off and let out a long breath. “I screwed up.”

He pulled her hand from her face. “Just say it.”

“Okay.” She drew a deep breath. “Do you remember when Hannah broke up with you?”

“Yes.” It had been the summer after he’d graduated high school, and he had been night surfing. Alone. It’d been a dangerous, reckless thing to do, but he’d been stupid back then and had often pulled such stunts. It’d been some sort of teenage testosterone-driven dare, a challenge between him and life, and he hadn’t been too particular about who might win.

When he’d come back to shore, Hannah had been waiting on the beach for him. She’d stared at his feet and told him she was breaking it off because they were going to college in a few months, and they needed to spread their wings.

He remembered feeling blindsided. He’d told her that he didn’t need to spread his f**king wings, and she’d smiled a little bit sadly and said she was setting him free anyway.

He hadn’t seen her for two years. He’d finally run into her by sheer accident on spring break, and they’d reconnected. And though she’d never asked and he never told, he’d spent the two years away from her having a damn good time spreading his wings.

“What about it?” he asked Aubrey now.

“I told her you slept around with other girls, one of them being me. It was why she broke up with you.”

It took him a moment to find words, and even then he only had one. “What?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, chewing on her lower lip. “I caused her to…break up with you.”

He shook his head. She was making no sense. “You were two years behind us in school. You didn’t even know Hannah.”

“We were in after-school tutoring together. I was there for Spanish Two. She was in danger of failing Spanish Four.”

“You’re lying,” he said flatly. “Hannah was a straight-A student.”

“She’d always been, yes,” she agreed. “But Spanish flattened her. She had to get her grade from an F to a C or lose her upcoming college scholarship. She came to tutoring every day for an hour.”