He did cry a little, however, when he came – his body bucking from the sheer, unadulterated pleasure of coming inside her for long, endless seconds. Unable to control his reactions any longer, to hide the sorrow he felt at knowing this was his good-bye to her, Ben buried his face against the side of her neck, hoping against hope that she would mistake his tears for perspiration, would think his body was trembling all over merely from the force of his climax and not from his silent weeping.
And when he sensed Lauren’s concern, felt her slender fingers caressing his damp cheek or rubbing soothing circles over his back, he didn’t allow her the opportunity to question him or think about it any longer. Instead, he kissed her again, his hands cupping her breasts, squeezing her ass, caressing her thighs until she was groaning with pleasure and his cock responded faithfully.
He kept at her for hours, as though in just one night he’d be able to make up for the lonely lifetime without her that awaited him. He kissed her until her lips were bruised and swollen, sucked her nipples until they were red and sore, and whisker burn covered every inch of her torso. And when she reluctantly admitted she was too sore to fuck again, he replaced his cock with his lips and tongue, not in the least concerned with the fact that she was still wet and sticky from the multiple times he’d come inside of her tonight. His balls ached from the numerous orgasms he’d enjoyed, his back scored in too many places to count from her fingernails, and his throat was raspy and raw from the cries of pleasure she’d coaxed from him.
And when Lauren finally succumbed to exhaustion, falling into a deep, soundless sleep, he held her in his arms for a long time, unwilling to let her go. In the end, it took every ounce of control he could summon up to gently ease himself out of the bed where he’d shared far more than just his body with her over the past ten days.
As silently as possible, he dressed in the same jeans and T-shirt he’d been wearing when he’d first arrived here a week and a half ago. He had never actually gotten around to unpacking, living instead out of his saddlebags as he always did. His fingers hesitated as he picked up the expensive Nikon camera Lauren had insisted he keep, at a loss as to what to do with it. If he kept it, then he’d feel like even more of a freeloader than he already did. But if he left it here, it would seem as though he was rejecting her gift – in much the same way, he thought grimly, that he was rejecting Lauren herself.
Furiously blinking back tears, Ben picked up the camera and focused it on Lauren’s prone body. He couldn’t help smiling as he watched her sprawled out carelessly, her small body nonetheless taking up more than half the bed in the way she always slept. Keeping the flash off, not daring to wake her, he snapped half a dozen shots to add to his already sizeable collection of Lauren photos – a good many of them showing her in various stages of undress, and even in the nude as she was now.
He put the camera away reluctantly, storing it with the utmost care among his things, and then gazed down at her one final time. When it had been time to leave Ohio to go to college, Ben had thought nothing of bidding his parents, half-siblings, and friends farewell, not giving any of them much of a second thought. And there had been no regrets, no overly sentimental feelings when he’d graduated from college and said farewell to his friends there. Ben had few real friends, no permanent ties, and he’d never once felt the urge to overstay his welcome anywhere or with anyone.
But as he stared down at the woman he knew would be his one and only, no matter who else might pass through his life in the years to come, Ben’s heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces. He blew her a kiss, not trusting himself to touch her again, for fear he’d tell all of his good intentions to go fuck off before crawling back into bed with her.
“Good-by, sweetheart,” he whispered brokenly. “Be brilliant for me. Shine brighter than the brightest star. And know that I’m doing this because I love you too damned much to stay and ruin your life.”
He made it as far south as Lucia, the tiny coastal outpost where Lauren had brought him to explore just a few days ago, before he had to pull off to the side of the road. It was only then that he allowed the tears to fall freely and without restraint.
***
She’d always had a bit of a sixth sense about things, and thus she knew something was different – wrong – the moment she woke. The other side of the bed was empty, though she could still smell his scent on the sheets, mingled with the unmistakable odors of sex. Lauren winced as she pushed herself to a sitting position, feeling sore and tender in too many places to count. A quick check of her body revealed several patches of red, rashy razor burn, a handful of love bites, some rapidly darkening bruises. Last night’s wild, out of control sex marathon with Ben had been far more physically demanding – and punishing – than any of the sporting events she’d participated in over the years.
As she forced herself out of bed on surprisingly shaky legs, the first thing she noticed was the absence of Ben’s bags. Since his first day here she’d nagged at him to unpack, showing him the space she’d cleared for his things in the closet and dresser. But Ben had always demurred, saying it was no big deal and that he didn’t have all that much stuff.
At the time she’d shrugged it off, but now – as she padded around the cabin stark naked, searching for any sign of her lover – she began to realize that Ben had never intended to put down any sort of roots, or make any kind of commitment to her.
Lauren grabbed some clothes out of the dresser, barely noticing what items she took, and dressed quickly, anxious to see for herself if Ben was well and truly gone. The rest of the cabin was as quiet and empty as the bedroom, and by the time she hit the driveway she was running. She didn’t flinch even once as her bare feet made contact with the gravel, didn’t slow down even though she was jogging uphill.
And when she saw that his motorcycle was gone, she dropped to her knees right there, welcoming the pain from the gravel digging into her skin. For long minutes she just sat there on her haunches, staring at the empty space where the bike was usually parked.
He was gone. From the cabin, from Big Sur, from her bed, her life. He’d snuck out like a thief in the night, without leaving a note or an explanation, or even telling her good-bye.
But then Lauren realized that he had told her farewell, that his desperate, devouring lovemaking last night had been Ben’s way of bidding her adieu. What he hadn’t been able to express in words, he’d done with his lips and hands and body.
As she continued to sit there in the middle of the driveway, too frozen to move, her shock gradually began to morph into disbelief, and then into a slow, burning anger.
She surged to her feet, her eyes snapping as the curses began to flow freely from her lips. “Bastard. Prick. Conniving, cold-hearted sonovabitch. Scummy, no-good liar. Putano. Pendejo. Fils de pute. Salaud. If he was here right now I’d kick his ass over the cliff, dislocate all of his fingers, slice off his balls. Just for starters.”
Lauren stormed back down the driveway into the cabin, slamming the front door so hard that all three of the dogs looked up in alarm. In the kitchen she took great pleasure in making as much noise as possible while starting a pot of coffee and popping a bagel into the toaster.
She ate and drank without tasting a thing before storming back into the bedroom to find some shoes. She glared darkly at the mussed bed, suddenly finding the lingering scents of sweat and sex offensive, and promptly stripped the sheets off the mattress.
She took the dogs for their usual morning jaunt, ignoring the fact that the three of them kept looking around anxiously for Ben. “Traitors,” she hissed at them crossly. “And stop looking so sad. He isn’t here any longer. The big jerk just up and left this morning without having the guts to even say good-bye. Or leave his fucking email address.”