Halos and Heroes - 15. Chapter 15

Love is a possible strength, in an actual weakness

-Thomas Hardy

Trying to make a relationship work in the military had always been a series of covert maneuvers-learning schedules and identifying times when Devlin and I could sneak away and not be missed for as long as it took one of us to drill the other into the nearest bathroom wall. There was very little wining and dining, unless we were both safe on leave. Even then, it was usually hamburgers through a drive-thru, and a cheaper motel room. Afterglow wasn’t ever even a limited-edition menu item. Forget spooning as if we were meant to fit together.

It’d worked at the time because I’d never been much of a cuddler. Being on constant high alert in hostile territory—both as a kid at home, then in the field— meant I slept light at night. Even the slightest touch would rouse me from precious sleep. Devlin was similar. We both also slept with guns beneath our pillows out of habit, so it wasn’t exactly a climate conducive to cuddling.

With Max, I’d had more breathing room when we were alone together, though we always downplayed things around his family, especially his father. It wasn’t because his parents would’ve had a problem with us being together. I’d been a part of their family since I was fourteen. Had Max and I announced we were officially a couple, there would’ve been toasts and well wishes all around because Vera and the Colonel loved me like a son. They loved Max, but were well aware that he could work his way through an entire phonebook of young, attractive and eligible names regardless of their natural biology, whereas I was discreet enough for it to seem I didn’t sleep around. If we’d ever confirmed our casual friends with benefits status, the optics wouldn’t be great for Max because they’d know it wasn’t my choice. I’d never put Max on the spot like that, not while knowing how much his father would disapprove. The Colonel believed hard in loyalty, and even harder in the idea that being monogamously loyal to a romantic partner, was what separated us from the assholes. Knowing that, we’d kept it as discreet as possible unless we were alone. Even then, when we shared a bed, we rarely woke up in the same lazy tangle of limbs that we’d fallen asleep in. Max had his side of the bed and I had mine. We’d never actually discussed, or drawn any clearly defined boundaries. They’d just sort of formed naturally.

Ben wouldn’t have any of that.

Whenever I moved in the middle of the night, he followed me like a drone locked onto its target so there was never a time that we weren’t touching. And it wasn’t all him. If I woke up and had moved too far away, I remedied that by immediately draping myself over Ben’s back, or urging his head to my chest. I liked to feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over my skin, reminding me of where I was, and who I was with before I drifted back into sleep.

When I finally became aware of the soft rays of morning sunlight creeping through Ben’s blinds, I yawned and rolled my shoulders in a preliminary stretch. The rain had stopped hours ago, and it looked like the weatherman was going to be right for once about a beautiful, sunny day being on the horizon.

Still mostly asleep, I was disoriented by my sore muscles now that last night’s hijinks were over, and the aftermath was catching up to me. Not even the highest level of endorphins could stop you from feeling your own humanity in your mid-30s after a night spent fucking like a teenager.

I rubbed the heel of my right hand over my eyes. When I blinked up blearily, I was looking at the underside of Ben’s jawline. At some point during the night, Ben had rolled onto his back and I’d turned his bare chest into my personal pillow. A pillow that kept rising and falling with the deep, gentle breaths of a man still peacefully asleep. My body was lined up along every inch of his chest and hip, our legs lazily tangled together.

I shifted carefully so I wouldn’t wake him, but Ben was just as beautiful asleep as he was awake so I wanted to take advantage of the chance to look my fill without him thinking I was a weirdo for staring.

Asleep, he looked even younger than he normally did, especially with the arm that wasn’t wrapped around my back, splayed with careless vulnerability over his head on his pillow. His dark lashes were long enough to be the envy of every woman who spent a fortune on cosmetics, and there was the faintest hint of a sunburn on the bridge of his nose from the time he’d spent with my family at the beach yesterday. Not even the lazy sweeps of the ceiling fans blades could completely cool away the faint sheen of perspiration on his body, that made his natural complexion gleam like melting caramel. Absently, I wondered if the subtle edge of sweat on his skin would make him taste like salted caramel if I licked him. I reigned myself in before my ingrained four-year old instincts kicked back in after decades of hibernation, and I treated Ben like he was made of legos-putting every interesting piece of him into my mouth might raise his eyebrow more than just staring at him would.

His lips were slightly quirked and when I gently stroked my thumb against the right corner, both sides twitched into a subtle lift though his breathing remained slow and steady.

He smiles in his sleep.

Before I could stop myself, I leaned over to brush the gentlest kiss over Ben’s plush mouth. I didn’t want to wake him, but now that I was alert, so was my bladder and having Ben wake up and think even for a moment that I’d left without saying goodbye was a plausible scenario I wasn’t okay with.

My hand brushed through Ben’s hair and I smiled when he made a soft sound of groggy approval. When his eyes opened completely, that smile deepened.

“Hi,” I said.

Ben’s dimples acknowledged my morning greeting because yeah, I was an eloquent motherfucker.

“Hi.” Ben smiled, and his body moved in a little side to side shuffle which was apparently his version of a morning stretch while he was still half asleep. “What time is it?”

I glanced at my wrist watch before answering him. “A quarter past 9:00 am. Damn, I haven’t slept in like this, in… God… not in forever I think.”

Ben grinned lazily, leaning in to bump his nose gently against mine. “I wiped you out, huh? Must be your body’s way of telling you that I’m the best you ever had. All. Three. Times.”

I laughed at his indulgent smile, leaning into him a little when his fingers carded lightly through my hair to tug me down to accept the kiss he pressed into my mouth with a contented sigh.

“Well, if you’re the best I’ve ever had, then I guess that goes both ways,” I murmured, before adding, “Unless you smile in your sleep, after a night spent with all your lovers.”

This morning was apparently going to be all about firsts; The first time that I’d ever woken up with a guy who wasn’t Max. The first time I didn’t have any inclination to run away after a night of multiple emotional epiphanies. The first time I wished I didn’t have to answer Mother Nature’s call to relieve my bladder because I didn’t want to get out of bed, even though I never slept in this late. It was also the first time since Benjamin Santiago had smoothly barged into my life, that I’d ever seen him blush.

With the natural, warm tone of his skin as a base, Ben didn’t turn the florid color of beets like I did when I was embarrassed, but there was a visible streak of rosy coral color along both cheekbones that matched the sunburn on his nose. The color hadn’t been there before we’d started talking, and when I pulled back to look into his eyes, the flush spread beneath my thumb as I traced it along the right side of his face.

Ben blinked. For a moment, it looked like he’d go for indignant denial, but then his lips twitched until they finally curved into a lopsided smile.

“Deal breaker?”

“Nope. It’s probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m also a little jealous. I don’t usually sleep this well. What were you dreaming about?”

“I honestly don’t remember. I never remember my dreams, though I used to talk in my sleep sometimes. Depending on who was listening, that could get very interesting.

He made a face. I chuckled, then sat up, shushing his protest with a kiss to his shoulder. “I’ll be right back. I just have to use the bathroom and maybe take a quick shower. I feel tacky.”

“If you get clean, I’m just going to have to make you dirty again, Sam. Having you wear my stink is kind of a turn on.”

“That’s grossly possessive.”

“Says the man who fed my spunk back to me in a kiss last night.”

This time, it was my cheeks that flared into heated panels of color. Yep. I’d done that.

“Sorry… You asked my preferences, but I didn’t ask you yours so I—”

Ben ended my stumbling apologies by rolling with the grace of a gymnast, to lay on his back, head in my naked lap with his cheek pressed right next to the stickiest spot on my body. My bladder really was full, but my dick didn’t seem to care as Ben rubbed his cheek against it with a lazy, purring sound.

“Sam, do you really think I didn’t get off on that?” His smile turned sly as he pressed the lightest of kisses to the tip of my dick before looking right at me. “Or did you just forget that I literally scooped my cum back into your ass the moment it started leaking out? If I’d had a butt plug handy to keep that part of me inside you, I definitely would’ve used it, carino.”

The sweetly affectionate endearment didn’t even remotely align with his filthy words, and I swallowed hard, my overflowing bladder temporarily forgotten as I imagined tangling my hand in Ben’s thick hair while l fed my cock into his mouth until he took me all the way down. During round two, I’d discovered that his body didn’t even know what a gag reflex was.

I groaned and it sounded defeated, even to me. “I really have to take a piss and we agreed on no water sports, so I have to get up. But hold that thought until I get back.”

Ben chuckled, but he let me up, taking pity on my flushed face.

“We could shower together. I’ll wash your back for you.”

“The part of my back that I can’t reach, is probably a foot above the parts you prefer.” I swatted him away with a chuckle when he protested. “Go make some coffee. When I get out of the shower, we can discuss a gameplan for getting dirty again. Do you have extra towels and sheets for the bed?”

As much fun as it’d been rolling around in said sheets, if we were starting from scratch with freshly showered skin, clean sheets were a priority for me.

“Clean sheets are in the hallway linen closet. I’ll get them for you and leave them on my dresser. I already put a clean towel in the bathroom last night. It’s the blue one. I was hopeful.”

This time, his smile was sweet enough to tug at something in my heart instead of lower regions, and I leaned over to steal a brief kiss.

“No sugar in my coffee.”

My warning was met with a soft tsk and a dismissive wave after Ben tugged on the nearest piece of clothing, which just so happened to be my t-shirt from last night. Whether that was truly by chance, or a stealthily deliberate choice I couldn’t be sure, since I couldn’t see what clothes were on that side of the bed. I chose to think it was the second possibility, because I liked the way Ben looked in my clothing. The shirt barely covered both his ass and dick.

Mine.

That was my official mental cue to excuse myself before the word actually left my mouth.

Within fifteen minutes, I’d showered and washed every part of my body- both inside and out- a lot more thoroughly than Ben would’ve, because I wasn’t distracted by my own body. Had Ben been with me, my shower probably would’ve taken twice as long from concentrating on making him come into my hand as I filled his ass before the hot water ran out. Since I was alone, I just washed my hair with Ben’s two-in-one shampoo, then rinsed it and his body wash off, before I got out to towel dry. Brushing my teeth with the brand-new toothbrush still it its package that he’d left for me on the sink, took only 2 minutes, but there’d been an additional five seconds added to the timeline because my mind had taken that long to register the flavor of cinnamon, instead of the more traditional mint. Between his body wash which had a subtly sweet, vanilla scent, the toothpaste, and Ben’s love of sugar, it made more sense now that I associated him with the warm, comforting scent of homemade baked goods.

It didn’t take me long to make the bed. Ben had included both a top and fitted sheet, so I didn’t have to go through my usual routine of carefully tucking a flat sheet into military corners. I didn’t bother raiding his dresser to try and find something that would fit me since there was only about a 10% chance of us not getting back into that bed as soon as he finished making the coffee, and brought it up.

I did open the blinds completely, and had just finished neatly folding our discarded clothing to stack it on Ben’s hamper, when he returned to the room with two small white espresso mugs in his hand, and two cork coasters held between his front teeth.

I admired the awkward multitasking for a moment because it was nice to see that even Benjamin Santiago had moments that passed the terrain of, ‘less than suave,’ into the territory of, ‘adorable and unashamed dork’.

He let me take the coasters from him so I could set one on each nightstand before I accepted the cup of coffee he offered me. Still black, but I tasted the hint of warm cinnamon spice when I took a sip.

“Thanks,” I said, giving him a full once-over once I realized his hair was damp, and that he had a towel wrapped around his narrow hips. When I arched an eyebrow, he grinned.

“I showered and brushed my teeth in the main bathroom. Your shirt’s in the wash with some of my clothes. I know you won’t fit into my jeans, but I figured you could wear one of my t-shirts with your own jeans when you go home later today.”

“My boxer briefs are still in that pile,” I said, gesturing with my free hand.

“Well, you could put them back on, or you can see how it feels to be free beneath your jeans.”

“It feels like a chafed dick under denim,” I said drolly.

Ben smirked. “You can wear a pair of mine then.”

“Keep giving me all your clothes and you’re going to end up naked.”

“I guess that means you’ll need to leave some of your own clothes here.”

The puss in boots effect of his eyes, wide and imploring, was lost when he grinned with obvious heat lacing the corners.

“How a man who carried coasters up in his mouth can be so fucking smooth, confounds me.”

“Well, I also have a really big dick.”

I blinked. He wasn’t wrong, but… “What does that have to do with being smooth and a dork?”

“Everything. Most men who say they have big dicks are liars, or they don’t know how to use it. I told you I have a big dick and do, so I’m not a liar. I also know how to use it, so I’m an exception to the rule in that way. I’m also so smooth I give you shivers, while also being an adorable dork who you want to kiss until both our toes curl. I’m always two true things at once, baby.”

I just stared at him for a long moment, then cracked up. “Or, the shivers are actually shudders because of that brain frying logic.”

Ben showed me his teeth. I laughed again, then set my cup on my coaster so I could grab my cell from the charger Ben had lent me. After noticing the time, I figured I should text Sofia just to check in. When I relayed that plan to Ben, he grinned.

“Who knew responsibility could be so sexy?”

I snorted, but as I brought up Sofia’s number and started tapping away on the keyboard, I snuck a look at Ben after he casually let his towel drop so he could get back into bed. Hands down, the hottest thing about Benjamin Santiago—a man who was literally bringing sexy back, without the annoying, electronic, boy-minus-band beat— was that it came so naturally. Sure, he could probably seduce the panties off a nun if he put his mind to it, but most of the time, like right now, when he wasn’t doing anything other than drinking his coffee and scrolling through the emails on his own phone after he’d gotten settled into bed against the pillows, there was nothing orchestrated about his appeal.

I cleared my throat, then finished typing my message. It was brief because Sofia had helped dress me for my date with Ben last night and knew I hadn’t come home. She could do the math, though I doubted she wanted to fill in the blanks any more than I wanted to know what might’ve happened between her and A.J. past their public dinner. Contrary to popular porn plots, even if in-laws technically didn’t fall under the taboo category of incest, I considered Sofia my sister, so imagining her and A.J.. enjoying a private dessert, made me throw up in my mouth a little.

Her message pinged my phone back immediately.

Sofia: I’m okay. At home. A.J.’s at his hotel. We had a good time.

Sam: Good. I’ll make dinner when I get home tonight.

Sofia: No need… A.J.’s coming over tonight… he’s making lasagna…

I lifted an eyebrow at Ben who was looking over my shoulder. He shot me an amused look before he took another sip of his coffee. I had no idea what to write back. Saying A.J..’s lasagna was amazing was true, but it also fell into that weird, pseudo porno plot dialogue. I settled for simplicity.

Sam: Okay. Ben says hi.

Sofia: 😊

With that task taken care of, I settled my phone back into the charger, then lay back against the pillows, ignoring my coffee for now while Ben polished off his. When he was done, he rolled over to face me, then lifted up onto one elbow so he could rest his head against his hand. He was close enough for me to stroke my fingers along the rough stubble along his cheek. A two-day old, 5 o'clock shadow on Ben was enough to give me a beard burn that coordinated with all the marks along my throat and collarbone that I’d investigated in the bathroom earlier.

I’d apparently fallen for a really hot vampire, like 95% of the teenage girls across America.

Ben smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to the outer edge of my wrist when I laid mine over his heart. When he lifted a questioning eyebrow, I shrugged.

“Just checking to see if it’s still beating. The way you chewed me up last night, I thought you might secretly be a distant relative of those little chupacabra things.”

Ben chuckled though his gaze swept my throat with a satisfied look. “Sorry.”

“Uh huh. It’s alright as long as you plan to stick around when I get put through a revival of the Spanish Inquisition later. A.J.’s going to be at Sofia’s tonight, so it’ll be brutal. He lives for being a pain in my ass, but he makes an amazing meat sauce. So, there’s that.”

Ben’s response was to lean in and kiss me.

“I’m happy to go where you do, and I like lasagna. I can even wear your shirt back to the house.”

Ben offered me a bright smile. I laughed. “Ok, that’s not obvious.”

“Baby, we passed obvious the moment you let me put a semi-collar of color around your neck that’ll last longer than a pearl necklace. Though those are nice too. Classy.”

I laughed again. “Frigging hell, man.”

“Too much?”

Ben curled his hand around the one I had on his chest, and lifted it to brush a slow kiss across my knuckles like he had last night.

“You know it is, but that doesn’t mean I want you to stop. Just keep it below my collar going forward. I can’t threaten the lives of any of my teenage niece’s future vampiric boyfriends when my neck screams, ‘open season’.”

I snorted when Ben snickered as he nodded. “I don’t take my shirt off in public because of the scars, so consider anything below the collar, your personal playground.”

“You may regret that later.”

I shrugged. “Max and I never marked one another up, and I just gave you carte blanche. Do the math, Cassanova.”

Ben’s brow hitched and held, but his suddenly molten gaze trailed along every inch of my face. “So, I got two of your firsts…”

I cleared my throat hard when I felt my cheeks heat, remembering the other first very clearly.

“It’s been months for me, and years for you. A few firsts seem ok. Though… with men like Whelan, and your entire barista fan club around, how did you avoid at least not occasionally hooking up with someone for stress relief?”

“Aside from the obvious black and white reasons?”

“Are you seriously going to try and play that card when you’re naked in bed with me? Your sex drive isn’t exactly priestly standard.”

Ben chuckled. “That’s fair. I guess I’m just reserved when it comes to romance. And selective. After so many years of sex without love, the sex part lost its appeal, just like a rose without any scent would, no matter how beautiful it is.”

“Why switch gears with me then?”

I couldn’t be sure, but I could’ve sworn the Ben was blushing again.

“An unfair advantage I guess. Everyone I met at church, or around town who knew your family, always spoke highly of you, and with genuine respect for the sacrifices you made for the country. Between that and everything Sofia told me about you, it painted a picture that I liked.”

“People usually only see what they want to, so I apologize for any inaccuracies.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrugged. “I guess I’m surprised that some of what was probably said didn’t have the opposite effect, and make you consider an exorcism when you met me.”

“Pft. A little random side note, Sam, I don’t believe in exorcism. ‘Possessed’ people, are usually suffering from some kind of mental illness, or a psychiatric break from a deep tragedy. They need medical help and compassion, not a bath in holy water or demoralization spoken in Latin. But stepping off the soapbox, why would you think that anyone would have anything negative to say about you? You’re an American hero, a family man, and a good person.”

“I also had a really screwed up family life, which included a mom with cancer, an alcoholic father, and an identical twin brother who got into trouble the moment he opened his eyes in the morning. Max also likes to say our dad’s soul was soaked in kerosene and that Connor was an infinite source of matches. I usually got swept up in the explosions. Not always willingly, but sometimes I carried my own matchbox. Not proud of it, but it’s the truth.”

“We all make mistakes as kids.”

“Yeah, but I probably wouldn’t have stopped fighting and screwing around with my laughable grades in high school if the Melones hadn’t stepped in. They started the process of straightening me out. The military just finished the job. But things always come at a cost. After what happened at the funeral, and what could’ve happened if you and Whelan hadn’t stepped in, I’m sure what a lot of people saw was violence that looked exactly like Connor, just wrapped in prettier packaging.”

I shifted to mimic Ben’s position, facing him while lying on my side. I called the compassion and concern I’d find in his eyes even before our gazes met, but I didn’t look away to shut him down. The fact I hated being pitied, didn’t outrank everything we’d shared, and the promises we’d made to each other. So, when Ben’s fingers reached out to stroke along my jaw, I relaxed and closed my eyes instead of pulling away.

They popped right back open though, when Ben said, “If anyone ever says any of that to me, I’ll kick their ass.”

I shot him a bemused look, which turned into a silent stare for about ten seconds, before I burst out laughing.

“Oh yeah?” I asked when his lips twitched. “What happened to praying for their souls? Isn’t violence the complete opposite of turning the other cheek?”

“All people need prayers, and sometimes they need guardian angels. Other times, the jerky ones need sword wielding archangels.”

I didn’t believe for a moment that Ben himself would ever take a physically violent approach to anything, but if I was a betting man, I’d empty my bank account and put it all on Ben somehow wrangling a wrathful team of angels to his side when needed.

My gaze flickered to his lips as Ben doused any potential fiery flare up of self-deprecation with indignation on my behalf.

“You owe your jar a dime.”

“And I’m happy to pay it. No one gets to hurt you. Not in front of me. And even if I don’t see it, He knows,” he said pointing up at the ceiling for a moment.

I chuckled, then surprised myself by saying, “Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.”

The impulsive words should’ve embarrassed me, but I didn’t back down when Ben grinned. If he was willing to call down angel armies, I could try and communicate like a normally functioning human.

“Seriously”

“Yeah.”

His smile widened, but his eyes unfocused for a moment, like he was really thinking about it.

“Anything specific?”

“Not really. Just want to even up the playing field a little since you already know so much about me.”

“Fair enough. I’m a pretty open book, but I have my share of mortified skeletons who never want to see the light of day. So, let’s see…” He hummed softly for a moment, then sighed. “Okay, when I was fourtee and still trying to figure myself out sexually, I played doctor with a female neighbor who was the same age.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Most kids do that. Connor and I played it together when we about twelve because we wanted to see if we were truly identical down to every part of our anatomy.” I made a face. “Kids are stupid. It was screwed up, and weird as shit because on a genetic level, we were basically jacking ourselves off. We obviously never talked about it again, no matter how drunk or stoned we were. Your story is hardly in the same league of weird shit.”

Ben’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “I didn’t get to finish the story, Sam.”

“Oh? Okay then. By all means, finish.”

“As I was saying,” Ben said, voice exaggeratedly slow, “We played doctor. Her ‘exam’ was first, and she was a very happy patient despite my awkward fumbling so she wanted to return the favor.”

“Full prostate exam?”

Ben laughed. “We were fourteen, so no. But she got my dick out of my jeans, which by the way, gave new definition to limp noodle. She couldn’t get any reaction with her hand, so she decided to try something she said she’d overheard her college age sister talk about once.”

My grin was widening, because I could only imagine where this was going. I gestured for him to continue.

“Well, it all went down like a tower of poorly stacked Jenga blocks, or dominoes arranged askew, depending on what’s a better visual for you. The point is, she tried to suck me off, but the feel of her lip gloss was as weird as the entire situation because I realized right then and there, that yep, I was definitely gay, and would’ve preferred having her brother’s mouth on me. Obviously I couldn’t say that, so I tried to just pull away. Because of my haste and her reluctance to stop trying, I accidentally kneed her in the face, busting her lower lip, and knocking her in the nose. Didn’t break it, but her nose bleed was epic. Then, rattled by her shrieking, I caught my own limp dick in my zipper as I tied to shove it away so I could help her. Needless to say, we never talked about it again. I don’t know if she ever told anyone, but I kept it a secret, even from her older brother who did successfully suck me off when I was sixteen, and he was eighteen.”

The sound my throat released sounded strangled, like it couldn’t decide between laughing or groaning.

“Father. Benjamin. Santiago…”

“What? Me being an escort doesn’t shock you, but almost breaking a little girl’s nose because I was a teenage spaz, does?”

We were both laughing now, and it felt as natural as everything else did with this man. Playful silliness like I had with both Max and A.J. but also tenderness, passion, and a feeling of just belonging.

“I think that might actually be worse than your jaw dislocation story.”

“I completely agree, so let’s try a softball question next.”

I snickered. “Okay. What do you like to do when you’re not being a messenger of the Lord?”

“Because that happens so often.” He squirmed when I gently goosed his ribs.

“I already know you take amazing photos, and rescue drunk men from bars before trying to poison them into sugar comas with your version of coffee. I want to know more.”

“One day Sam, I’m going to talk you into taking some cream in your coffee.”

“Shoot your load down my throat when I suck you off later, and we’ll consider that cream situation handled.”

Ben’s eyes glazed over slightly as his gaze dropped to my mouth. “Noted… And to keep us on track and answer your question, I paint. That’s actually how I met Sofia. We were taking an advanced class together. She’s amazing.”

“I know. She used to paint a lot of landscapes and portraits when we were younger. I hope she picks up on it again, now that she gets to breathe a little easier. Are the paintings downstairs all yours?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“You’re just as good as she is. Have you ever considered selling them?”

One shoulder rose and fell in a modest shrug. “Thank you, but I don’t think what I paint is that marketable. It’s mostly landscapes of local places, and religious themes.”

“You’d be surprised at what people go for. A.J. has a thing for modern art. Sh—stuff, that sometimes costs more than a car payment, but just looks like colorful jizz on a giant canvas.”

Ben laughed. “Pollock fan?”

“Probably, but a lot of this stuff is modern from young, 'up and coming,' artists. When he dragged me to a gallery showing in New York a couple of years ago, almost all of the artists looked adolescent, regardless of gender, so it might very well be biological body fluids mixed with some kind of color and preservative on those canvases. Not my thing.”

Ben chuckled, stroking his fingers lazily down my chest, tracing across my pecs, then skating them lower down my abs like he was mapping out a topographic design.

“Mmm, classical art lover, or maybe you’re just into nudes?”

“Neither. Naked is for desperate times when there are no clothes to be had, or some energetic moments on a mattress. I’m not into seeing some random guy’s cock and balls out on public display. If I’m indulging in porn, it’s private. Though,” I added, when Ben stopped chuckling, “if you ever want to try your hand at painting nudes for your eyes only, you have an option right here,” I said, pointing to myself, “because I don’t want you looking at any random guy's cock and balls either.”

Ben grinned. “It’s art Sam. If you look at renaissance paintings, they’re full of naked humans and people pay a lot of money for them.”

“Don’t care,” I said, with a scowl. “Those people are full of something themselves if they want to have that kind of crap on their walls.”

Ben laughed again, then stroked his thumb slowly enough around my navel.

I’ll keep that in mind, though truthfully, I’d rather photograph you. Still for my eyes only if they’re nude, but in general, I’d like to try and capture you on film.” His hand moved to my mouth, tracing the corners with light fingertips. “Your face is very expressive when you’re not ‘on’.”

“Because that happens so often.”

I protested when Ben’s fingers left my face to jab me hard in my midsection after I repeated his earlier words back to him.

“It happens more often than you think, especially around your family. Your face just softens when you let yourself relax. The Sam who I can always see beneath the stoic surface, appears for everyone’s viewing pleasure in those moments. It’s a beautiful thing, and I’d love to be able to preserve that emotion.”

A hard clearing of my throat, warned Ben I was changing the subject. I could use those words in my head about him all day long, but I wasn’t keen on them being used about me. It made me feel uneasy, like a kid arriving on the first day of school and realizing they didn’t fit in because they had the wrong lunchbox and backpack to make it into the cool kid’s circle.

“Speaking of photos, I told Max and A.J. about how none of us in that house are comfortable with the family photos on the living room wall except for Emma, because to her, Connor is a name more than a memory. Sofia, Addie and I, all sort of avoid looking at it. Connor’s dead, but he’s still haunting that entire damn wall. Max suggested asking Sofia if she’d be all right with replacing some of the photos of Connor and the girls with new ones, so I did. She’s ok with it.”

She’d been more than ok with it. Sofia’s relief had been palpable when I’d said that I wanted to put up some new photos in my room, and that if she wanted to change out any of the ones in the living room, that she could just stack the frames on my dresser when she had a chance so we’d know how many we needed to replace. We hadn’t said anything else about it, but when I’d come back to my room after working out, almost every single framed photo had been neatly stacked where I’d told her to place them. The only ones she hadn’t pulled down, were one of her and the girls last Christmas with Tara, the teenage photo of her, Max and I sitting on the steps of her parent’s house, goofing off before Adelyn was born, and the one of me holding a newborn Addie. I hadn’t bothered counting the frames, just showered, changed, then asked how she felt about hanging up some of those big collage frames where we could fit a lot of photos. We’d been on the same page.

“Neither of us wants studio photos. Those always feel stiff, like you’re trying too hard to look like America’s First Family. But I really like the one you took of Emma during that water balloon fight, and you said you have other photos of her and Adelyn from church activities, so some of those might be great. We need more positive associations at home. I have some recent selfies of Emma and I, and a few I’ve secretly snapped of the three of them here and there, but I think pictures of them in real time, doing things they love, are more authentic. That make any sense?”

Ben’s smile was soft, lips slightly curved. “Yes, it does, and I’ll be happy to help. We can also get creative with a family portrait of the four of you. It might mean me being around more often though, so that I can capture those unexpected moments you can never really plan for.”

He was fishing. I took the bait.

“I can handle that. The kids love you, and so does Sofia, so be warned that they’re probably going to insist on having a picture of you up there too. There are definitely some photos around somewhere, of them with Max when they were younger, and I’m sure they already took a thousand selfies with A.J. that they’ll want to print. Families are who you choose, right?”

After spending so much time around Ben these past few weeks, I’d been certain that I knew all of his smiles. But the broadness and brightness of this one, completely outshone all the others, like comparing your everyday twinkling star, to a supernova.

“I’d be very honored to be part of your family like that, Sam.”

As unexpected as the brilliance of Ben’s previous smile had been, the shy, warm hope in the one he offered me right now, reduced the other to a night light’s glow.

My gaze swept over the soft flush of color in his cheeks, and the way his full lips parted slightly. The moment lingered for another crosswords moment beat, then my right hand was in his hair, the other curled firmly into his hip to roll him toward me so I could kiss him.

I’d intended the meeting of our mouths to be sweet and tender, but that spark that was always simmering between us, ignited immediately. Our bodies slotted together like puzzle pieces as I settled between Ben’s legs, the vibe in the room shifting away from lighthearted and family focused, as our cocks hardened against each other with every kiss we exchanged. Ben’s hands were sliding down my back, and I had his face cradled between both of my hands so I could control the speed of our kisses, and where I put mine—mostly along his throat and shoulders—when I released his mouth to take necessary breaths.

I nipped Ben’s neck, and sucked up hard enough to bruise that little piece of flesh, though I kept it strategic. His clerical collar would hide them easily, but I’d know that they were there.

Ben’s body felt like a furnace beneath mine, that lush mouth warm, his tongue wet as he explored my mouth while the hand he sent scouting down my spine, paused to grip my ass and anchor me there. I moaned into his mouth, wanting to be closer even though there wasn’t even an inch of physical space left between us.

We drew apart, just for a moment. The hazel green of Ben’s eyes was eaten up by the dark of his blown-out pupils. I was sure mine were the cloudy, blue gray Max had always compared to stormy skies when I was this wound up. Granted, I’d never checked for myself, but the way Ben was looking at me right now told me he fully expected to be swept away in that storm.

I exhaled heavily, warring between the weird duality of wanting to fuck him stupid, just talking some more, like we had at the coffeehouse. Still on a date, but naked. The naked part was the problem though, because there wasn’t a saint Ben could possibly pray to, who wouldn’t be tempted away from missions of piety if he was in their bed.

“We were… having such a nice… conversation.”

Ben’s laughter was louder than my audible curse as the words popped out of my mouth. Because of course they did. I could plan and execute a flawless military op, run twenty miles in blazing heat and still have the energy to snap a man’s neck when he tried to kill me, but I couldn’t have an appropriately timed, social conversation with a man I liked.

As always, you’re an eloquent motherfucker, Sam.

I groaned, long and low, but Ben’s fingers trapped my jaw to keep me from turning away from him.

“Sam, look at me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know. Look at me anyway.”

There was a soft sound that might’ve been stifled laughter at my expense, but then a deeper, gravel hard, but honey sweet note, entered Ben’s tone.

“Samuel Thomas Trammel, look at me right now or you’ll never find out the tricks lurking in my kink box.”

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Ben was laughing at me now, but when I looked up at him through my lashes, his expression was neutral enough that his amusement was obviously playing dead in his head for the moment.

“You have absolutely no idea how appealing you are,” he murmured, before tugging me closer until our breath mingled again. “So. Darn. Cute, because you’re huge, and hot, and your mind is sharp enough to have kept you alive for all those years in the military due to good instincts, yet around me….”

“I fall apart like a shy teenage girl passing a note to a guy she likes in homeroom, with boxes to check yes, or no.”

Ben grinned as I inserted my own ending to his sentence.

“I think most teenage girls go for more… straightforward methods now. Love notes on lined notebook paper is pretty obsolete, at least according to the kids at Maplewood.”

“Apparently so is my dating game.”

Ben’s grin turned into a snicker, his hand still keeping hold of my jaw.

“I’ll teach you. And I want to keep talking and getting to know everything I can about you, but right now I think we need to take the edge off. The whole point of showering was to get dirty again.”

“Mood’s not broken?”

Without looking away from me, Ben took my hand, then wrapped it around his own dick which was all hard heat and soft skin. I didn’t need to touch myself to know that our current mood suited my adaptable dick just fine.

“Edge off, then more questions about nude photography, worst dates, hopes and dreams, and maybe even favorite foods, though I have a feeling you’ll break my heart with your answer to that last one.”

He was probably right about that last one if he expected me to say anything that’d rot my teeth or clog my arteries, but that discussion would be had at another time when I wasn’t returning the kiss he dragged me down into.

For what felt like an eternity, we didn’t speak, our lips too busy for conversation as our hands picked up where they’d left off. Ben’s mouth was blazingly warm, his tongue curling around mine and sucking with such filthy inspiration, I heard my own muse’s damn call. I broke from the kiss only long enough to spit generously into my own hand, before I reached down between us to wrap it around both our cocks, pressing them together as I kissed him again. The tip of Ben’s was as slick as mine, aiding my saliva so the subtle, dragging friction was the best kind as I jerked us off together.

I started slowly enough to appreciate the subtle differences in the texture of our skin, as well as the fact that even though I had big hands, my fingers couldn’t form as tight a ring around both our lengths, as they did with most men. I worked with what I had though, murmuring praise into Ben’s mouth, and licking his groans right off his tongue. When his hands dug into my arms, I picked up the pace, my own brain tumbling like a dryer cycle, with just as much heat.

Feeling Ben’s hands working all over my body, caressing everywhere he could reach, made my head spin, almost like I was drunk. I’d already made a promise to myself to give up the booze, but even if I hadn’t, this would’ve been a defining moment. Going stone cold sober would’ve been my only option because there wasn’t possibly anything more intoxicating in the world, than the taste of Ben on my tongue, and the feel of his body between my hands.

“That’s it, Sam. Yes. I’m so close, cariño. Keep going.”

Ben’s fingers dug into the meat of my ass as my hand flew over our cocks now that I had a better sense of what he liked. Forget the third time being the charm. The fourth was fantastic.

A fine sheen of sweat covered both our bodies until the scent of Ben’s body wash was almost obliterated by our arousal. We were so close to falling over the edge together. Ben’s breath was coming in pants as fast as my own. So close, yet still teetering, fighting for balance until he placed his hand over my racing heart and tilted his head to the side, baring his neck willingly. As tempted as I was by the long expanse of smooth skin, I chose to sink my teeth close to the other mark I’d made earlier.

Ben moaned as I sucked up hard, tongue and teeth working together until blood flushed to the surface, turning the mark into a florid shade of reddish purple that would never be mistaken by anyone for some weird sunburn or birthmark. When I licked over the hickey, Ben’s back arched as he came and I quickly angled my hand towards him, so the sticky heat of his orgasm mingled with mine and painted his skin when I fell over right behind him.

I kept stroking us together until we were too sensitive to keep going. But even after I released my hold, I didn’t give Ben any reason to get up for a washcloth once our breathing had slowed to a semi-normal pace. Instead, I leaned down and braced my hands on the mattress so Ben’s chest was bracketed between them. A broad, amazing chest that was still streaked with ropes of our cum.

Ben moaned my name when I licked every warm, white strand up with the flat of my tongue like a lazy cat. I knew he could hear the pleasure I took in playing clean-up crew, could feel it, when I gently sucked his cock clean. By the time I was finished, Ben was still breathing hard and his skin was damp, but clean. Some of the cum now coating my molars was definitely my own, but I didn’t care. Neither did Ben when I kissed him slow and deep to feed our combined flavors back to him. He just upped the ante by sucking my fingers clean until I finally collapsed beside him with my head resting lazily on his chest.

“So, that happened,” Ben said, and I could hear the affectionate tease in his voice as he went for a deliberate, Captain Obvious moment at my expense.

I bit the nipple closest to my mouth. Ben yelped for the insubordination, but I felt his chuckle rumble in his chest.

“Toothy.”

“Says the man who made sure I’m going to do my walk of shame in full living color.”

Ben snickered as his fingers moved through my hair. “If every part of your body didn’t always react like you’ve been electrocuted, I’d stop. But you’re so responsive, it’s intoxicating. Especially with nipple play. Are you really planning to get them pierced?”

“Yeah. It was something I wanted to do for a really long time, but the ink pushed the envelope as it was while I was in the military. Now that I’m out, I might add more ink too. Something more hopeful. New beginnings and all that hokey crap.”

New beginnings are always the best place to start, and you’re hot without visible ink. With it…” He let out a low whistle. “Where would you want to put it?”

“I’m not sure. Depends on the design I decide on, and how big it is.”

“If it’s representative of new beginnings, maybe it should go on your chest, close to, or spread over your heart if the design is large enough. The one on your back represents your past. Though you should never forget the friends you lost, they wouldn’t want you to keep looking back. You’re not going that way.”

“Onward and forward?”

“Always.”

Ben smiled. “I can get you the name of the place that Roman uses for all of his ink. The shop does tattoos and piercing, and they’re clean and do beautiful work. He’s also gotten both his nipples, and dick pierced there as well.”

I arched an eyebrow as I adjusted my position to be closer to him, then propped up on one arm to look into his face. “1) I couldn’t handle the dick thing. Makes my own balls shrivel and want to slink off to Alaska. 2 ) How do you know what he’s got pierced?”

“Roman is my best friend and he wanted my “professional opinion,” on the practicality of it since my clients spanned the wide spectrum of kink, and secret metal. Roman’s soul is a corkscrew, but he’s also a bit of a germaphobe who’s careful about the choices he makes. To be fair, he’s like that in every aspect of his life because of his past, so he comes across as effortlessly confident and controlled to the point of detachment, though he cares about his people, and me. He was my driver when I was working and always had my back, so we got close. We still are.” Ben paused to flick my lip with his fingers. “I’ve never slept with him, so you can stop turning colors.”

He grinned and my flush deepened. ”Sorry. I’m not usually like this.”

“Not in your nature?”

“I want to say no, but honestly? I’m not sure. Sometimes I’m overprotective of the people I care about, so that probably would’ve translated to low-level possessiveness with a partner if I’d had normal relationships. But I never cared about Devlin enough to be jealous. And I couldn’t be jealous with Max. It wasn’t how we worked. With you… it’s different. I haven’t decided if that’s good or bad yet.”

Ben’s expression softened. Well, just as FYI, I think different is, ‘amazeballs,’ as the kids would say. But as far as Roman goes, I’ll introduce you at the grand opening of his second nightclub in a few weeks. I have an open invite since I’m both his best friend, and an original investor in his first club, Allegria.”

“I remember you mentioning that. I’m not really a nightclub guy, but I’ll go where you do. I want to get to know your friends. I’ll just have to figure out what to wear. You’ve probably seen my entire wardrobe in the few weeks that we’ve been around each other. My t-shirt from last night is about as fancy as I usually get.”

“Have Tara take you shopping. She’s been to Allegria often enough to know the dress code, and it’s going to be the same at Deseos. She’s also invited for the opening.”

“You don’t want to go shopping with me?”

“I want to be surprised. I also don’t think the sales associates would appreciate me not being able to keep my hands off of you in the dressing room.”

“Wear your clerical garb and we can call it confession.”

I’d never gotten to goof off with a boyfriend, since needing to have a boyfriend, was a primary factor in that equation, but Ben laughed and the sound was worth all of my awkward conversational missteps.

I loved Ben’s laugh. It was as open as a child’s. Unguarded, and hopeful, despite all the trials that he’d probably had to deal with in his own life between his complicated family dynamics, and former career.

“You should invite A.J. if he’s still around. It’s a gay nightclub, but anyone is welcome as long as they’re there to enjoy themselves and not start trouble. The music is always good and the bartenders don’t water down the drinks. Roman runs a clean place and doesn’t put up with anyone hurting his patrons, or his staff. You two actually share a lot of the same protective instincts.”

“I’ll ask him. I know he’s flying back to Alabama in a couple days to handle some business, but I have a feeling he’ll be back sooner than later.”

“Oooh? Is his sudden accumulation of frequent flyer miles because of a certain pretty and talented, brunette mother of two?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a chick so I don’t gossip, speculate, or ask a lot of questions,” I said drolly. “Granted, if it were anyone but A.J. he’d already have gotten the whole, ‘hurt her, and they’ll never find your body,’ speech, but I trust A.J. with my life, so there’s no hesitation in trusting him with my family.”

“He seems like a good man. Smart, funny. Might flirt with linoleum.”

I laughed, stroking my fingers lazily across Ben’s hip. “Yeah, he is. Flirting is ingrained in his DNA. He plays the field, but he’s always respectful to the women he dates, even when it’s casual. His mother and sister’s would’ve torn him apart with teeth and claws by now if he wasn’t. His female cousins, and even his remaining grandmother would fight over the scraps. But Sofia could use some uncomplicated fun within safe parameters, and they both seem ok with whatever they’re doing. We’ll see where it goes.”

“Do you think it’ll go anywhere serious?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. He works a lot and she needs to figure herself out. I also don’t see him moving out of Alabama because his entire huge, crazy family is there, and he’s close to all of them. And Sofia… I don’t know, Ben. Maybe an eventual change of scenery would be good for her, but it would break my heart if she left. Addie will be starting college in two years, but Sofia would obviously have to take Emma with her, and I couldn’t go because I have another reason to stay in Florida now even if they leave….”

Ben’s knuckles grazed my cheek lightly as he leaned in to steal a gentle kiss. “Yes you do. But whatever it is, it’s still new, so there’s no point in worrying about it yet.” He stole another kiss, then said, “Since you asked me this question earlier, I’ll shoot it right back at you. Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.”

It was a fair question, but when I’d asked him, the question had been motivated by my sudden desire to get to know Ben on a deeper level. In a part of my brain, I’d also known that his answers, as interesting as they might be, would be safe. For me, that wasn’t as true.

I had plenty of secrets, but most of them weren’t easily shareable. Too many from my childhood were dark and barbed. Most of the ones I’d accumulated in the military, well there wasn’t a chance in hell that I’d ever share more than a small fraction of those with Ben, especially not in bed where they’d taint what we had. Human beings aren’t naturally queued for violence. Our brains can only handle so much, before they shut down. I’d been prepared for the things I’d have to see, and do. Ben wasn’t a snowflake, but he didn’t deserve to be burdened with the horrors that I was. He wanted me to look forward, not back, so that’s what I was going to do.

“Most of that isn’t anything that would keep my legs from retreating.”

Ben studied my face for a moment. His didn’t reveal any pity or frustration with my shutting him down, just curious contemplation as he read between the lines.

“That’s fair. Let’s try something different then. What are some of the things that you want to do now that you’re home and moving forward?”

That should’ve been a much easier question to answer, but after years of not really thinking past the fact that eventually, my chosen lifestyle would probably get me killed, I hadn’t made many plans for the future. If I’d been killed in action, everything in my bank account would’ve defaulted to Sofia, and the girls. My few personal effects would’ve been sent to Max. That was as far as I’d gotten with planning for my future.

I huffed out a breath, then reached for Ben so we could lay facing each other, limbs lazily tangled as I ran my fingertips up and down his chest in slow figure eights. Pain had become a conduit of focus for me over the years, like digging my own nails into my palms until they bled and the pounding of my heart slowed. But now, my grounding came in the form of Ben’s warm skin, and his hand mimicking my movements, along my hip.

“I don’t know. Making things right with Sofia and the girls was my main goal when I came home. It’s going to be a perpetual work in progress, but it’s getting better. I was thinking of doing more things as a family, like days at the beach. Maybe I’ll take them to some of the summer carnivals later this year. Adelyn used to like them when she was little, because she was obsessed with the spinning rides. Which sucked, but she used to laugh her head off, and I miss that. Emma would probably lose her mind over every sugar-loaded snack there. Family dinners. Movie nights. Stuff like that.”

“That all sounds great, and they’d love it. But what about things just for you, Sam?”

He knew I hated putting focus on myself, but sometimes the shit we didn’t want to do, was exactly what needed to be done.

“Maybe talking to someone about the crap in my head, so I can silence some of it and focus on other stuff. Cars maybe. Fixing them, not boosting them.”

The reminder of our game of Truth and Lies at Maplewood, dragged an amused look out of Ben.

“I think that’d be good. You’d be working with your hands, and have to focus on the intricacy of what you’re doing, so it’s very mindful work You also have diagnose the issues, then come up with a plan to fix the problem. Those are all skills you have in spades.”

“Yeah, working on the Camaro was like that. Getting under the hood, turning wrenches with the smell of oil and rusty parts, all that just made sense. It definitely wasn’t as clean or cool as some of those car shows make restorations out to be, but I used to turn on the radio, and just check out.”

“What kind of music do you like?” Ben narrowed his eyes at me playfully. “I can’t decide if I want to peg you as a hard rock guy, or a country lover. Both have their own, ‘working through complicated feelings and experiences,’ factor.”

I laughed. “Both, though lately I’ve gotten into instrumental covers of modern popular songs, especially the hard rock stuff. You’d be surprised at how powerful an expertly played violin can sound with the right supporting beat.”

“I used to listen to some classical, though I prefer salsa to dance to, jazz to listen to, and an embarrassing amount of pop all the time.” His smirk matched mine. “I went to the opera in New York a few times with clients, including Charlie. I don’t speak Italian, but you don’t need to understand the language to appreciate the raw emotion of the performances. It’s dramatic as all heck.”

“I don’t think I’m up for opera. My life’s dramatic enough as it is. But maybe we can go to a concert together one day? They used to do free public ones in the park around here. All different genres, so we can probably find something that works for both of us. A.J. is from Alabama, and Max grew up in Louisiana until the Colonel was transferred to Florida, so between the two of them, I developed my love of country. I’m not as familiar with jazz, but I don’t mind learning new things. Maybe…” I hesitated, then swallowed before I bit a huge damn bullet.

“Maybe after things settle down I’ll look into buying a cheap vintage Camaro or another old, convertible muscle car that can be restored, and you and I can do a road trip down to Nashville and Memphis together. I’ve been all over the world, but I haven’t explored our own country just for fun in years. And I used to like doing that. Some of my best memories came from the trip I took with Connor and Sofia in the Camaro, and driving down to the beaches in Virginia and North Carolina with Max and A.J. once A.J. retired and Max and I were around at the same time. I think it’d be fun eveb if we have to listen to an embarassing amountof pop, especially because… well, you know…”

Ben’s smile said he did indeed know, but he was enjoying playing stupid.

“I know?...”

I grumbled at the gentle prodding. “Since you know that you’re a big part of my plans going forward, and I like the idea of making memories with you cross country.”

Ben looked delighted, and I was reminded that just because you know something in your gut, doesn’t mean you don’t still like, or need to hear it. I was definitely going to have to work on my communication skills.

“Sounds like fun. I haven’t ever actually done a real road trip before, so it’d be a first for me. In the meantime, we can run together on the beach in the mornings, after you spend the night.”

“You don’t think we’ll get enough cardio at night?”

“Oh, I know we will, but you said that running helps clear your head, and I like the idea of training with a former military bad boy. I want to stay sharp and sexy for my young lover.”

I snorted. It’s a four-year difference Ben, and you look younger than I do.”

“Say that to me again when I’m eligible for senior citizen discounts and you aren’t.”

“Isn’t vanity the devil’s favorite sin?”

“It is, but the bible also says we must use the gifts God has given us to serve others. This is me asking you to share your gifts.”

My lips twitched into a grin. “Noted. Cardio at night, cardio in the morning, then a few lazy hours spent watching TV shows or movies that don’t feature teen angst, teen angst with fairies or vampires. And definitely no Disney. I’m tapped out, man. I’m almost desperate enough to start watching telenovelas with Sofia, and that’s some crazy dramatic crap that makes me look well adjusted.”

Ben’s eyes lit up. “Really? Which one?”

My version of the hairy eyeball didn’t diminish his excitement. “Don’t tell me you’re into them too.”

“I’m Latino and grew up with sisters, so what do you think?”

“I think that the balls of the average man would shrivel up from that combination.”

Ben laughed. “I like the drama because after all the wicked stepmother angst, the turmoil of, ‘is he, or isn’t he my brother, because he’s definitely my baby daddy,’ mixed in with a dose of long-lost rich fathers who made the heroine when they made it with the maid, and plenty of revenge, the stories always have a happy ending for the good guys. I like that.”

“So… your romantic side likes the royally fu-fractured, dysfunction of “real life,” fairytales.”

“Uh huh. It’s my worst kept secret. The idea of finding true love is trippy. It’s the same reason I like watching, The Bachelor. Love always wins out, represented by a red rose.”

“You realize that it’s all faked, right?”

“The first few seasons weren’t.”

“Dude, you’ve watched more than one season?” I stared at him and was gifted with one of those rare blushes.

“Shut up. You know there’s a secret sense of romance deep down in your bad boy with a heart of gold DNA. You just don’t want to ruin your street cred.”

“Yeah because I have so much street cred walking around in t-shirts with cartoon characters on them, while holding the hand of a 7-year-old who sings Disney songs and makes me do the chorus when I drop her off at her Girl Scout meetings. I’m a true American Assassin hard ass.”

Been looked amused as fuck. “How long can you stay?”

“As long as you want me to. A.J.’s making dinner tonight, so I just need to show up at some point. But I don’t want to be in your way if you’ve got stuff to do.”

“You’re not in my way. Let’s give your a running legs a break today. I’ll be heading out of town in three days for a week-long retreat with the youth group, so I’d like to spend as much time with you as I can before then.”

My smile deepened into muffled laughter when Ben rolled over on top of me to pin me to the bed.. “ Hang out with me. I have to do the rest of my laundry. You can help.”

“Sounds sexy.”

“Oh baby, you have no idea. Wait till you see me fold. It’s next level.”

I laughed again, then gave into the deep, heated kiss that Ben laid on me. Thoughts of laundry, and how I’d finally be able to sneak a look at what detergent and fabric softener he used, so I could buy it to use at Sofia’s, were forgotten as he pressed his weight down, to sink me deeper into the plush pillowtop mattress.

Ben's hands swept over almost every inch of my skin. His mouth and tongue took care of the forgotten spots, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to know where he was headed when the kisses he trailed down my chest continued southward. My brain shorted out as my mind exploded with scenarios of every possible way Ben could blow my mind by blowing me.

"Want to play? I promised you the VIP treatment if you stayed over."

"What's on the menu?"

"Whatever you want. Complementary and complete room service is included for the entire duration of every stay."

Ben’s voice had gone almost syrupy, more full-bodied than fake saccharine sweetness-the difference between real maple sugar, and the cheap $1.99, on special, Supermarket brand crap. He grinned up at me through his eyelashes as he licked lazily around my navel.

“Anything…” Ben walked his fingers up my thigh, “you want….” then followed the line up my hip, “is on…” before trailing into the sensitive skin where my thigh intersected with my hip… “the menu..” before dropping low again, to skate his knuckles along the underside of my balls.

My breath released like it’d been punched out of my gut, when Ben flicked his tongue just below the head of my dick. I groaned, my hand sinking into his hair, even as mine fell back on the pillows for a moment.

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” I breathed. “You’re going to kill me. We were food stamp kids, man. One kind of cereal. Buttered noodles by themselves, or with a squirt of ketchup if we got fancy. Didn’t start any kind of culinary branching out until the Melone’s started feeding me. I’m not good with all-you-can-eat buffets.”

Ben’s low chuckle teased my skin before he took just the tip of my cock into his mouth, suckling it gently, obviously appreciating my full grasp of profane language for once. He released me with a soft pop, then scooted his body gracefully up the length of mine, making sure each part of our flesh touched along the way.

“I didn’t know that. We’re going to have to work on that, because I’m a foodie. We’ll start small if you want. Maybe with…” he pressed a kiss to the underside of my jaw, “the introduction…” then scooted up higher to my cheekbone, “of that…” for a smaller kiss across the tip of my nose, “special cream, we talked about earlier.”

I didn’t wait for him to kiss me, just growled as I pulled him down with my fingers curled firmly around the back of his neck. This kiss was just as hungry as the ones that had come before all the playful banter, and emotional connecting that made me feel slightly off-kilter, because it was new, and I didn’t like novelties. Novelty couldn’t be planned for. Novelty wasn’t usually a natural, A to B to C, trajectory. By its very definition, a novelty was a mutation of the usual. A weird change veering a hard left away from what made sense, under the guise of being something excitingly new and unique.

I was a man who liked patterns. I liked clear expectations, and planning for every probable outcome so I could have at least three different backup plans if shit went sideways. But I couldn’t ever have planned for Ben, or the fact that he could drag me along the spectrum of human emotion back and forth so easily, like it was perfectly normal for us to laugh at my pet peeves about bad grammar, kiss like the world was ending, fuck like it was the only way we could save the aforementioned world, then start all over again with more teasing, laughter, and sex.

Ben’s lips moved against mine, chasing after my mouth like he didn’t intend to give me a chance to question why a novelty felt so damn normal. Natural even.

Right.

Well, shit.

Maybe I was the abnormality here, because I was thirty-fucking-four, and finally, for the first time in my life, I had a boyfriend who I could enjoy every aspect of an adult relationship with, instead of dividing up what might be most appropriate for whoever was a temporary placeholder in my bed.

"Breakfast in bed?"

"For you or for me?"

I breathed out, looking up into Ben’s face as I rubbed my thumb lightly over his kiss swollen lips, before leaning in to steal another one that lingered until I traded my own lips for my teeth, biting down with enough pressure to make Ben moan. The flat of my tongue was an apology that he accepted with another low sound of approval.

“For me. Can I have anything I want from room service?”

Ben hummed his assent, letting that be my answer, though he added some show to his nonverbal tell, by lightly rocking his hips up against mine.

“I want you.”

Ben’s eyes were hooded and heavy as they met mine, one corner of his mouth lifting in a playful, ‘doh’ expression. “How?”

I swallowed under the intensity of his gaze, then swallowed again, trying to work my way through the overload of possibilities trying to declare themselves king of the mountain.

“I want to fuck you.”

This time, Ben’s brows lifted, and the silent, ‘doh,’ was replaced with, “Awesome. How?”

“Smartasses don’t get sex.”

“Are you sure? Because the house of Santiago is running a special on extra sides of sausage with breakfast for assertive men.”

Ben grinned, and despite the fact we were both naked, and rock hard, that novel playfulness was creeping between the heat of our bodies again. I’d always known that sex could be hot, and that it could be fun. The fact that it was not only both those things with Ben, but also encouraged at the same time, without any stipulations, was a motherfucking epiphany.

I tangled my hand in his hair again. “Every way I could possibly have you, I’ve imagined it.”

“Mmm so have I. We should compare notes.”

I swallowed down Ben’s laugh, taking his mouth in a hard kiss to feed on the sound as I rolled us over. My right hand cupped his jaw, running the thumb over his lower lip, then hissing when Ben nipped it in teasing challenge.

“Tell me one of the ways you imagined having me.”

“I’d rather show you.”

“And you definitely will, because I’m already clenching from imagining how good you’ll feel inside me. But I’m a romantic, Sam.” His eyes gleamed when he saw me hesitate. “A romantic who’s trying very unsuccessfully to get his boyfriend to talk dirty to him, because it turns me on.”

Ben chuckled when I blinked. I’d had plenty of time to fantasize about every single way that he and I could possibly suck, and fuck over the past few weeks. Some of them had been creative enough that even Ben might’ve been impressed by the kink. But my mind went completely blank as I tried to settle on just one right now.

My eyes met Ben’s as I brushed two fingers over his generous mouth. “No teeth,” I warned. “Suck, then I’ll talk.”

The heat that instantly flared in Ben’s eyes, should’ve incinerated me as he opened his mouth and greedily obeyed. Just like the first time, he sucked on my fingers like they were an extension of my cock. Up and down, using his tongue to skate over each knuckle, then lick between them, teasing the sensitive webbing.

“Oh, fuck,” I hissed. “Son of a bitch, you’re hot.”

Ben made a sound that sounded suspiciously like, ‘I know,’ before I pulled my fingers free.

“You promised me narration on this tour, Samuel,” he said, voice silky as his gaze flickered to my fingers.

Fuck it, let, go.

“I’m going to work you open slowly with my lips and fingers, teasing you until you’re on the edge, begging me to move things the hell along. Then I’m going to fuck you deep and easy while you’re on your hands and knees so I can watch your hole fighting my cock as it splits you open. Remember how I felt in your mouth when you were stuffed throat deep with me? Now… Imagine all that in your ass.”

Ben smile dropped, his lips parting into a surprised O as I reached for the bottle of lube with my free hand. My fingers were wet from his thorough tongue bath, but after four years of willingly playing monk, he had to be tight, and I didn’t want to hurt him.

“If you come before I’m inside you, ye of self-imposed monkdom, then there’s no dick for you, only a hands-off part in the audience. Got it?”

Ben bit his own lip, then nodded. “Understood.”

I allowed myself to be lost in the eroticism of his gaze, drowning in those hazel eyes for a moment. When I skated the edge of the lube bottle down the side of Ben’s hip and he exhaled, his accent was thick enough to walk on.

“Thought I got your fingers slick for a reason.”

“You did. The reason being, that I get off on watching you suck me, but I’ll need my dick for other things soon so I can’t come yet. This is me having the best of both worlds.”

The low, honeyed sound of Ben’s chuckle licked along my skin from my ears to my toes.

“I also know it’s been years since you last did this, and I don’t want to hurt you. So just shush, and let me enjoy this. Remember what I said happens if you come before I’m inside you.”

I took the pft, sound Ben made as acknowledgment. He propped back against the pillows to watch as I settled between his thighs. He followed my lead, lifting his right leg to brace his foot on the mattress. I pressed a kiss to his hip as I squirted a generous amount of slick on my fingers, then rubbed them together slowly to warm the lube, while deliberately keeping my hand at a level high enough for Ben to see. I glanced up briefly to catch him watching me, but pressed my smirk into his inner thigh instead of commenting on the glazed look in his eyes.

“Let’s see what the pro says about this,” I murmured against his skin, as I rubbed a slick finger across his furled hole, patiently circling the skin that parted when I tugged lightly at the edges it, only to have it curl back into itself, like a reluctant virgin cheerleader with her jacked up, jock boyfriend on prom night. Fortunately for Ben, I had every intention of putting out.

I smirked when Ben mumbled a curse in Spanish, as if the language was a barrier between him and his fine jar. “Shh, relax, and let me in baby.”

Ben moaned when I slowly worked my finger into the warmth of his body that was tight enough to make me wonder if he’d did even used his own fingers in the last four years.

“No, I didn’t.”

I looked up at Ben, his confirmation making me realize my thoughts had accidentally popped out of my mouth.

“Really? Why not?”

“For the same reason I don’t jerk off often,” Ben said. His voice was dark velvet, with a graveled edge of arousal that bordered on a growl, and made him less articulate than he usually was. “I indulged in sex just for the sake of it, when I wasn’t doing it for a paycheck. An orgasm was currency, but in a new world order, old currency isn’t worth anything.”

I licked into the seam where Ben’s thigh met his groin, to try and coax another growl from him before I slowly pulled my finger out, then worked it back in deeper, but just as deliberately.

“So… you’re saying that your ass is a representation of a post-apocalyptic world, and my dick’s bringing about the new world order?”

Ben made a strangled sound that I interpreted as a huff of laughter when I curved my finger, working it around lazily as I grinned at him.

“If it ever gets inside of me, sure, we can make that work.”

Instead of responding—because look who was being bitchy about foreplay now—I showed off my multitasking skills by continuing to press my finger in and out of Ben’s body, while using my free hand to push his leg up and brace it on my shoulder to display him more openly to my gaze. If I was going to be remaking his ass in the image I saw fit, I was going to make sure the gates were open in a hero’s welcome.

“Another one?”

Been nodded. Though I was as gentle as I could be, I felt the tension in his body as a reaction to the tight stretch. His hard-on wilted slightly, because former pro or not, it’d been a while, and pain happened.

But not on my watch.

I licked lightly at the tip of his dick to refocus his attention on me, before I gently suckled only the head into my mouth. Slow and easy, like I didn’t have an end goal in mind. Ben wasn’t the only one who liked sucking dick, and he was as responsive as he claimed I was. My vocal cords vibrated with a low sound of praise as I slowly scissored my fingers, trying to get his body to loosen for me. By the time I was finally able to work a third one in, my lazy enjoyment of his dick had made Ben hard again, and his hips were starting to push down onto my hand.

That’s it baby. Fuck storming the castle. You’re going to throw me a damn parade.

I rubbed my cheek against the head of Ben’s dick, loving the dazed look on his face. Arousal had infused his skin with a deeper color than his blushes. He looked wrecked, and we’d barely started.

Former Pro O, Emotionally Constipated Hardass, 1.

I’d like to believe that it was because I was a sex god. Sadly, I was too pragmatic for that kind of macho bullshit, but it was easier to pretend that was the case, than think about the more likely alternative- that Ben felt the connection between us building every time that we made love, just like I did. Normally, I preferred being on solid footing when it came to sex, just like I did most things in my life, thought I wasn’t opposed to trying new things in bed. Having Max as my primary bed partner for my entire adult life till recently, meant I fell into the category of open-minded, that came way after everyone else who considered themselves “open-minded,” had already been categorized. Aside from the commonsense NO-WAY IN HELL, scenarios that I’d mentioned to Ben, there wasn’t much I hadn’t tried at least once. Kinky sex didn’t shock me. Sex loaded with the depth of feeling I had for Ben… That shit rocked me to my core, and knocked me on my ass.

“We good?”

The question had been mostly rhetorical on multiple levels, but Ben nodded anyway, and I went back to my task of making him lose his mind. I pushed in and out, rotating my fingers, prodding deeper as I took more of Ben down my throat. I knew what I was doing, but I deliberately avoided his prostate with skill I’d achieved after many long and sweaty lessons taught by Max in our teens. Max, who’d made sure I knew exactly where to find that little mass of magic, spongy tissue. Granted, he’d also tried to verbally walk me through the process of finding a woman’s G-Spot once, with his usual gleeful sense of bisexual hedonism, just to get a rise out of me. Being put into a headlock had been his reward. But I was grateful for every other lesson that involved the inner workings of a man’s ass, because Ben was panting my name now as I pulled off to just lick a slow circle around the bell of his dick.

He moaned, the sound long and low, dragged from deep in his soul as I sucked him all the way down again, humming at his base before drawing off again.

“I can feel you trembling,” I murmured. “Your balls are so heavy. You’re almost there already, aren’t you?”

My free hand slowly skated up the soft skin of his side, ghosting along his ribs, then up to his shoulder, then down his arm. The gentle touch, contrasted with the feel of my other fingers that were thrusting in and out of him faster and deeper, continually rocking over his prostate. It was a weird yin and yang balance I myself liked when I was right on the edge, like I could tell Ben was.

I licked at his cock, then moved my free hand to my own dick before I rested my head against the cradle of Ben’s hip and groin. Looking into his eyes was doing all sorts of off-center things to my brain.

When Max had gone through a brief, tantric sex phase, the emphasis on eye contact, and ‘mirroring our breath,’ hadn’t done it for either of us. I think my feedback had been something along the lines of, “This is fruity as hell.” Max’s response had definitely been, “I agree, let’s fuck.” And we had. Repeatedly. And like every other time that we’d been together before, and after that, it’d been amazing. But it had nothing on the sensation of feeling Ben’s breath fall into the same pattern as mine.

I twisted my wrist as I crooked my fingers deep inside him. Whether it was my low moan, the feel of my knuckles bumping Ben’s belly so he knew exactly what I was doing to myself when I wrapped the fingers of my free hand around my dick to start jerking it, or the repeated stimulation of his prostate, the waves of his desire finally broke.

Ben’s hands clutched the comforter and his leg jerked, heel sliding off my shoulder as he came all over my hand and his belly. Enough wayward droplets splattered my lips and chin that I had to choke my cock off hard at the base before I orgasmed with him.

Being sucked off by Ben was fantastic. Being fucked by him was amazing. Having him mark me up with his teeth had been primal. Feeling his spunk drip hot and sticky wet down my skin because he’d come so hard… that was everything.

Ben’s heavy breathing sounded louder in my ear when I pulled my fingers free, and wiped them on the edge of the no longer pristine top sheet before sliding up his body to see his face.

“You came,” I said, stating the obvious with the slow grin. “And I told you what would happen if you did.”

I reached down to pump myself again lazily, but with a firmer pressure then I’d been using before. I was right on the edge, so this wouldn’t take long. Not with the almost feral look Ben was giving me now that he was coming back to earth.

When he leaned up, braced on his elbows so he could gently lick the spunk off my face, my eyes closed and my hand whipped up and down my length faster and harder, twisting at the top with my thumb skating through my slit. I was so fucking close.

Ben’s mouth moved over my cheek, his breath a warm whisper over my ear that raised the skin on the back of my neck when he murmured, “When I agreed to those terms, I had my fingers crossed behind my back."

I barely had time to blink as he swatted my hand firmly away from my dick. Surprise gave him the advantage and when he pushed at my chest, I lost my balance and toppled back. Moving with that ever-present grace, he was on me immediately.

“Fucking cheater,” I said, thought I couldn’t say I actually cared.

“I promised you breakfast in bed, and extra sausage is complimentary.”

“How fast is room service delivery?”

Ben’s smile turned slow and wicked, that feral gleam back, making his eyes look so green, I got the distinct impression of a lithe cat ready to pounce. Not your average house cat, but something exotic. Something so beautiful, it was likely to kill you even though experiencing it’s grace might make the end worth it.

He licked his own lower lip like he was still tasting my spunk in his mouth. I swallowed hard when he nudged my shoulders back, then pressed me down into the bed with his mouth devouring mine. He gave me only enough space to obey when he murmured, “Roll over.”

His hands were gentle as they glided over my body to help me to my hands and knees, moving with that deliberate lack of haste despite the fact that he’d shamelessly cheated when I needed to come like it was a DefCon One situation.

I’ve never been into extensive foreplay, though Max had dragged things out whenever he really wanted to drive me out of my mind. I’d learned everything I knew about the importance of leather handcuffs, and silk ties from him. With Devlin, and all the other one-and-dones, random, ‘wham, bam, thanks, man,’ had worked just fine. The level of reverence Ben treated my body with as he massaged, and kneaded the firm muscle of my ass, was foreign, and almost too much. Feeling the scruffy scrape of his check against my skin, and his breath hot and slow over my wanting hole, should’ve felt excitingly dirty, and degenerate in the best ways. An almost loving sense of worship, shouldn’t have been part of the equation.

I finally exhaled when I felt the brush of Ben’s mouth skating along the inner crease of my ass, his breath heating my skin even before his mouth actually made contact. My hands fisted the sheets, because when I made a move toward my dick, Ben bit that intimate place with such obvious warning, I was glad he couldn’t see my face when my eyes rolled back in my head as pleasure rushed through me.

Ben rewarded my moan with the sweep of his tongue, wetly circling the furled rim of my hole, rougher there, than when he kissed my mouth. Pure lust knotted in my belly when he stroked one hand down my lower back, pressing slightly on the base of my spine so I got the hint. Once my knees were up under me, arms folded and stacked steady so I could press my face into them, body inverted like he wanted, Ben’s growl endorsed my compliance.

When I felt the tip of his tongue barely pushing into me, I bit them into my own arm to muffle my curses, the fingers of my right hand, knotting tighter in the sheets. Forget military corners. At this rate, even a solid tumble dry with starch, wouldn’t be getting out the evidence of how hot it made me to feel Ben lapping at my entrance, kissing every inch of skin there with the same devoted enthusiasm he gave my mouth, when we were wrapped in one another.

“God,” I groaned, my hips pushing back as my neglected, leaking dick fingerpainted on the already tumbled sheets with my precome. The single word was a prayer I doubted God Himself would approve of. Fortunately, Ben did.

“That’s right… Good boy.”

For about ten seconds, the stupid, sporadically macho part of my mind that’d been formed by my father’s opinions about what ‘real men’ should be, balked, wanting to point out that I topped Ben by at least four inches, and probably had at least thirty pounds of muscle on him. I also had the skill to easily manhandle him bac beneath me to take back control, even from this angle. Good boy my ass. However, my ass, was the entire problem, because it clenched around Ben’s tongue, and the two fingers he gently slid in beside it, to reduce me to a willing, pleading mess.

I’d teased Ben earlier about being able to balance soft and strong at the same time, and he was wasting no time reminding me of that, by taking advantage of the slickness he created with his mouth, moving his fingers slowly in and out, until I felt stripped to my bones. When he crooked them against my prostate, heaven was close.

I’d had plans to be inside Ben, to fuck him stupid. But apparently, if you wanted to make God laugh, all you had to do was release your plan to the universe, so he could flip the script on you. My plan has gone by the wayside as I was pushed to my limits by a man who refused to let me self-destruct. A man who pushed me to do better, be better, and have a little faith that this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing. We’d have to shower eventually, and as long as my dick didn’t fall off from more use than it’d gotten in ages, I was built for all kinds of strength-geared hijinks, including shower sex, with Ben’s long legs wrapped around my hips as I fucked him into the shower tiles. We also had tomorrow, and the next day. All the days, until he left for the youth group retreat. When he came back, there’d still be more days. We had time, so I didn’t have to manage this situation.

Ben stopped touching me when I reached my arm back to curl my fingers around his wrist, and stop his movements.

“I want you to fuck me.” My voice sounded as wrecked as I felt.

Ben’s lips grazed my lower spine, leaving a damp spot behind. “You’re not too sore?”

“I’m probably less than three strokes from coming, and I want it to be on your dick, not your fingers.”

A shudder rippled through my body when Ben removed his fingers, and kissed a gentle path long my spine, inch by inch, dragging every sensation out until he reached my ear. His teeth grazed the upper curve, before soft kisses peppered the same spot. He blew gently across the damp streak he licked across my neck.

“Breathe, Sam. I’m not going to rush, and you have me so hard again, we both need to calm down a little.”

“You’re driving me crazy.”

“Says the man who made me come like a teenager, despite my disciplined sense of self-control.”

“It’s been four years. I’m surprised you even lasted that long.”

Been snorted, then helped roll me to my back so he could see my face. “You broke my self-control, Sam. No one else has gotten even half a hard-on in years.”

“You want to talk about loss of self-control? I had plans for your ass.”

“Good. We can keep your order on file for future reference to ensure your continued patronage, and pleasure.”

My own smartass response was fed into Ben’s mouth when he kissed me. I caught a hint of myself on his tongue—His boy wash with my natural musk beneath—then concentrated instead, on the remnants of Ben’s toothpaste, and the coffee he’d finished earlier. That proved to be a mistake, when my head made a random parallel association between those two flavors, and the taste of the Ceylon cinnamon in my own morning espresso. Fantastic. Chubbing up in my jeans every morning when I drank my coffee in Sofia’s kitchen, was 180° away from family friendly.

Ben reached for the lube to slick himself up. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

“If you stop, I swear I’ll send you on a one-way trip to heaven, right now.”

Ben shushed me with a kiss as he pressed into me so slowly, I could practically count out the centimeters. I bit down hard on my tongue to keep from swallowing it, when I mentally converted those into inches.

“So tight,” Ben moaned. His eyes drifted shut as his hips tilted, pelvis pressed tight against my ass, balls gently scraping my skin like he was trying to get impossibly deeper. Kisses were swept across my clavicle and up my throat as I stroked my hands down his back. He pulled almost all the way out, before snapping his hips to fuck me at a slow, steady pace that soothed some of my earlier frenzy, while building it up again at the same time.

Ben’s hand slid under my left leg, lifting it higher to catch the calf against his hip bone, then dragged it even higher past that, until my ankle was propped on his shoulder. When his head tilted slightly, and I felt the graze of his lips along my ankle bone, my breath caught. I’d been kissed almost everywhere at some point in my adult sex life, but that was a new one. This was the fourth time that Ben was balls deep inside me, making me lose all rational thought, and what made me feel warm and fucking fuzzy, was that tiny intimacy.

The angle was better though, allowing him to get deeper, grazing my prostate even though he was still thrusting in a frustratingly lazy rhythm; one that was too slow to get me off, but kept me on a razor thin tightrope. His eyes were closed, so I distracted myself with a visual investigation of the thing of beauty that Ben was, when he was this single-mindedly focused on the way our bodies fit together perfectly.

My fingers brushed the cluster of little brown freckles on his left shoulder, and the rose-colored birthmark just below it. Within moments, I’d memorized the way Ben’s throat worked when he swallowed hard, spine arching gracefully every time he moved deep inside me.

“Damnit, Ben. I need you to fuck me.”

Ben’s eyes opened as he offered me a cheeky grin. “Isn’t that what I’m doing?”

“No. You’re dr—”

You’re driving me crazy was what I’d intended to say, but the sudden cant of Ben’s hips drove him deeper and harder into my body. For a moment, as pleasure burst through every nerve ending where we were connected, all I could focus on clearly, was my own frantic heartbeat.

My groan was muffled enough to make Ben open his eyes in time to watch me sucking my own fingers wet and sloppy, so when I reached down with that same hand to curl it in a tight ring at my entrance, Ben felt that increased wet, solidly tight friction each time he stroked in and out of me. I felt vindicated when his breath caught, and his pace quickened.

I loved the hitch in Ben’s voice when he said my name, eyes glazed as beads of perspiration dappled his forehead and cheeks, rolling slowly down the clenched line of his jaw, and the curve of his neck. Straining against his iron hold made my shoulders ache, but it was worth it when my tongue caught the drip, and lapped the salty flavor away so I could have another bit of him inside me.

"Samuel…" Ben’s hazel eyes had bled dark, the glints of gold coming out in them like the color of good whiskey.

"Yeah, Ben," I answered, though the efforts were rhetorical on both our parts. We didn't need words. I knew exactly who I was with, and what was happening between us. Every stroke of his cock into me, the pull of his lips, and the torrent of muddled Spanish in my ear told me he needed the same thing I did—to call someone home.

Picking up the pace, he drove his cock into me until I arched up, meeting him stroke for stroke. Each time I thought we'd found a rhythm to the end, Ben changed the angle until I was close to screaming from the frustrated need to fall apart for him. I scraped my hands down his arms, using the blunt edges of my nails as encouragement. Ben recaptured my mouth in a clumsy meeting of lips and teeth that was too fast, too wet, but I loved it. Relishing the fact that he was as close to losing his mind as I was, I pushed the envelope harder, because I needed him harder. Needed him to fuck me like he meant to keep me hostage in his bed because I couldn’t walk straight for a while.

"Is that all you've got, sweetheart?" I whispered, nuzzling his ear. "This is what you want me to give up everyone else for?"

The narrowing of Ben's eyes was the only warning that my tease had hit home. The room spun when he pulled out fast, then flipped me to my hands and knees that betrayed me like Judas when they cooperated without hesitation. Exhilaration rippled down my spine when I realized I'd judged a book by its holy cover and was going to pay for it. Angelic people didn't normally do well in my world, but the firm bite of Ben’s hands on my hips as he shoved back in hard, bottoming out without any hesitation, reminded me that all demons had been angels before they’d fallen.

Ben didn't move after that initial thrust that sent him balls deep, but the tremor in his hands told me that the control he showed was for his benefit, not mine. He was trying to keep himself from breaking, wanting to direct my pleasure for as long as he could. Maybe tomorrow I'd be happy to explore just how willing he was to take full command over my body. But there was a time and a place for everything, and right now I didn't want it slow, gentle, or careful.

The fraying ends of Ben's control were close enough for me to grab, and unravel completely. I tilted my head back for a kiss, grazing his lips with my teeth. "You said I’m yours, that it’s just you and me, right? Prove it, or—”

There was no true, ‘or else,’ to that sentence. I was fucking his, and on a rational level, Ben knew I’d never lie or cheat on him, but his primal lizard brain was as green as mine.

I choked on my sharp inhalation as he drew out almost all the way, then shoved in hard and fast, his quickening strokes tinged with that edge of erotic violence I wanted. My elbows trembled, an indication to the rest of my body that they were an insecure support system right now. If I’d been standing, my legs would've relayed the same message. Ben's arm wrapped across my chest to hold me when he correctly read the tremble, but he didn't let up. His accent was so thick I could barely make out the guttural rasp of his words.

"Am I hurting you?"

"Fuck, no, not even close."

The huff of sound that teased my ear could've been a laugh or a groan. "Do you trust me, Sam? Es cierto o no es cierto?"

"True," I said in English, responding to his question without hesitation. "Why? What are you going to do?"

I felt his smile against the sweaty nape of my neck. "Going to give you what you need."

"God yes."

Two words and that was it.

I tasted blood on my tongue from its introduction to my teeth when Ben slammed into me so hard I lost my balance and fell forward, face down in the mattress. The strength of the hand splayed out on the lower part of my spine didn't allow me to get back up. I was forced to clutch handfuls of the sheets for traction again, as Ben stole all the air from my lungs. The pounding in my ass was demanding everything as he drove me to the edge of the cliff and made me jump, without giving me time to consider the depth of the fall.

I turned my head on the mattress so Ben could hear when I came, shouting his name as my body clenched down hard on his cock. My skin vibrated with full body pins and needles as I stuttered through my orgasm, but he still didn't stop. Ben fucked me right through the pleasure, riding me without mercy so I couldn't catch my breath. When my vision clouded around the edges from lack of oxygen, I came as close to hearing a choir of damn angels as I ever have.

I was too far gone to make out more than a distant echo of Ben's shout when he followed me over the edge, and we collapsed together into a sweaty, fucked-out heap.

I don't know how long we lay there unmoving, but Ben finally shifted to brush a kiss over my shoulder. I grabbed the hand he didn't have wrapped around my body, squeezing when I turned my head to smile with lazy indulgence and stop him from voicing the apology I saw rising in his eyes. He hadn’t hurt me. I was sore, so if we somehow managed to rouse ourselves for a fifth round before we left for Sofia’s tonight, I’d be on top. Unless we decided to neck like teenagers just beginning to experiment, using only our hands and mouths. But I could handle sore, because I'd come harder than I ever had in my life, and it was all because of the man dropping kisses along the damp hair at my temple, then along my cheek.

“You’re amazing,” Ben whispered into my skin. I felt the curve of his smile when he rested his cheek under my shoulder blades, trying to catch his own breath which was still ragged. His sweaty skin felt cool in contrast to the heat that radiated from my body.

I closed my eyes, and time had no meaning for me. Eventually Ben got up to get a washcloth as usual. When he came back, I was still in the same position he'd left me, too relaxed to move out of the wet spot. I just let him clean us both up after halfheartedly wiping myself off with the edge of the sheet that wasn't touching me.

When we were done, Ben drew me up against his chest so could rest his chin on top of my head. We relaxed, enjoying the intimate silence before he said, "Sam?"

That was it, but in my name I could hear the underlying reason he'd just lavished everything he could on me with lips, cock and teeth. The words I’d pretended I hadn’t heard last night, rested on his lips right now.

I tensed, not sure I was ready to go that far, which was irrational considering the things we’d said to one another less than an hour ago. The things I’d said, including being his, and wanting to explore the world together. All that was much more telling than three simple words, but words sometimes had power, and those three were finite. I might’ve allowed Ben complete control over my body last night and this morning—he'd nearly fucked me into a coma—yet that small, chicken-shit part of me, was still afraid of saying words no one else had ever heard from me in a romantic context.

It was tempting to run, but my modes of escape were limited by the fact that my birthday suit wasn't acceptable for mixed company if I ran out the door, and half my clothing was in Ben’s washing machine. I had to settle for a noncommittal mumble about needing to pee, as I gently extracted myself from his arms and retreated into the bathroom.

I left the door slightly ajar, because locking it felt too spinless. Instead, I turned on the faucet to splash cold water on my face, feeling icy droplets slide down my cheeks to pool in my clavicle. The chill felt good against my skin, combating the surge of heat that rose in every fiber of my being each time I thought about the words Ben wanted me to hear.

Get it together, Sam. You know you want to hear it. You want to say them back.

I heard him coming, but Ben kept me from shutting the door against him in time by jamming his hand and hip into the doorframe. Not wanting to hurt him, or ratchet up the coward factor any higher, I let him in when he asked. I didn't make eye contact though, focusing instead on flipping up the toilet seat as if I was going to take a piss, even though I was just stalling for time.

"A little privacy might be nice."

"You're going to tell me that a guy who was career military, and probably watered plant life regularly, is pee shy? Go ahead. I won't look." He made himself comfortable on the edge of the bathtub, closing his eyes, then putting one hand over them.

I knew he was peeking when I scowled and the corners of his lips quirked into a smile. Ignoring him, I finally anointed the toilet bowl before flushing, and washing my hands. Ben moved before I could finish, trapping me up against the sink with his hard belly flat against my back. He hadn't bothered with clothing, and with mine still MIA in his bedroom somewhere, all I felt was the warmth of his skin, and the press of his soft cock against my body.

The slide of his arms around my mid-section was gentle, but I knew he could feel how uncomfortable I was, because he leaned forward to drop a soothing kiss between my shoulder blades.

"You need to start finding better hiding spots if you don't want me to find you." I could hear the affection his voice before he peeked around my head to meet my eyes in the mirror. "Sam..."

"Stop."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"Yeah I do, and it's not the right time..."

"Says who? What happened to freedom of expression? My heart is the one that wants to talk. All you have to do is stand there and listen."

I wasn’t expected Ben to kick his foot between my legs to brace me against his thigh and the sink so I had nowhere to go, but I admired the pragmatism.

"I'm learning that sometimes, ‘no,’ means yes with you. And this is one of those times you need to follow someone else's lead. Let me be that guy. Your guy. You’re mine. I’m yours. Don’t be afraid to admit that now, just because words scare you.”

“What scares me, is your unholy ability to read my mind. Maybe you’re the one that needs an exorcism.”

Ben’s smile and calm eyes met my conflicted ones in the mirror, not dropping his gaze for a second. “Sam, I’m going to say this only once, because I don’t want to make it a habit of bringing up past relationships in ours.” He paused to kiss the side of my neck, then met my eyes again. “I'm not Connor, and I'm not Devlin. I'll never lie to you, or cheat on you. Sofia, the girls, Tara and A.J. would maim me if I ever caused you pain, and I happen to have a selfish love for my balls." His lips tilted into a smile. "And unlike Max, I will always put you first. So, try something new with me, Sam. It's called trust."

He left it there, allowing the words to ramp up the emotional intensity. I looked down and back a half dozen times, but Ben's gaze never faltered.

When I finally gave consent with a tilt of my head, he pressed another kiss to the side of my neck and closed his eyes. I could feel the warmth of his breath in a slow, steady puff against my skin as my own eyes closed. Once again, my breath eventually slowed into the same steady rhythm as his, and the continuous thump of his heartrate matched the beat of mine. I felt him smile against my ear when I pressed back more securely into his embrace.

"¿Me quieres? Es cierto o no es cierto?"

Loving Ben wasn't the problem. Allowing myself to believe that I had any right to, was what had held me back. But when Ben asked me for the truth about loving him, I gave him what he asked for. Go big, or fucking go home.

"Cierto."