When Robert headed back home to Carmel a short while later, however, it was all Lauren could do to stop the tears from tracking down her cheeks unheeded. Over the years she’d gotten real good at blocking out all the memories, and the pain that accompanied them, but then there were times like today when nothing kept them at bay for very long.
Everywhere she went in this cabin, the surrounding grounds, the nearby bluffs and beach, brought back bittersweet memories of Ben. At one time she’d considered replacing nearly every stick of furniture in the house – the bed, both sofas, chairs, even the kitchen table – because they had made love on all of those surfaces and more. But to do so would have surely raised her parents’ eyebrows – and suspicions – and thus nothing had changed.
She did some work enhancing and cropping a series of photos she’d taken during her most recent visit to San Francisco, thinking that they might be something her mother would like for the gallery. She poured herself a glass of wine and watched the sunset out on the deck, unwillingly remembering each time she had done exactly the same thing with Ben. Dinner was a tamale plate she’d picked up in Monterey earlier today, and while she normally savored each delicious bite tonight everything tasted like sawdust.
She eyed a bottle of tequila and a shot glass longingly, but wound up putting them away, knowing that no amount of alcohol was going to cure her broken heart tonight. Instead she made herself a giant mug of hot chocolate, wrapped herself up in the ratty old flannel bathrobe, and padded barefoot back out to the deck to watch the stars come out, trying not to think about the times Ben had patiently pointed all the constellations out to her.
It took her a long time to fall asleep that night, and when she finally did it was to toss and turn fitfully, and dream of Ben.
He was laying on his back, his eyes shut, groaning as she kissed a path down his chest, her tongue flicking over each of his nipples in turn.
“You like that, Blue Eyes?” she whispered. Her hand slipped down his rock hard abs until she was grasping his erection. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
“You’re a witch,” he murmured hoarsely. “A green eyed, sexy little witch. And you’ve got the most incredible mouth, the – oh, fuck!”
Ben grabbed handfuls of the sheets, his pelvis thrusting up in sync with the long, arousing pulls of her mouth. His cock seemed to feel a bit harder and grow a bit longer with each stroke of her hand, each swipe of her tongue, until he was almost too much for her to take.
And then he surprised her, maneuvering their bodies until she was on all fours and he was thrusting into her from behind, taking control. He fucked her with long, deep strokes, until she could feel the head of his cock butting against the very tip of her womb. She gripped the wrought iron headboard, holding on for dear life as he took her with an almost savage hunger. She was gasping for breath, sweat covering both of their bodies in a fine mist, and she could feel her orgasm building with each hard thrust of his cock.
“Oh, God, Ben. That’s so good,” she cried. “Yes, keep it up! I’m so close, baby, so close. Just don’t stop.”
“Never,” he breathed, his arm banded around her waist as his lips brushed her throat. “I’ll never stop wanting you, Lauren, never stop being with you this way. I’ll always want to - ”
She came awake with a rude start, vaulting up into a sitting position as she struggled to catch her breath. Sweat beaded her forehead, and she was alarmed to discover how full and swollen her breasts felt, how the nipples were hard and almost painful. She closed her eyes and squirmed a little in embarrassment as she realized how wet she was, and how her body was begging for release. She knew from past experiences, past dreams, just like this one that all she would have to do was touch herself once and she’d orgasm instantly.
But perhaps the most disturbing reaction to the erotic dream she’d just had about Ben were the wet tracks of her tears. She brushed them away impatiently, furious at this betrayal of her weakness. But it was no use, because moments later her slender shoulders were shaking with the force of her renewed weeping. And it was then she finally realized that the only way she would ever be with Ben again would be in dreams much like this one.
Chapter Fifteen
November – New York City
“Hey, Ben. Robert McKinnon is asking to see you. He knows he doesn’t have an appointment but was hoping you could spare him just a few minutes.”
At Kym’s very unexpected announcement, Ben’s attention was immediately diverted from the pile of paperwork on his desk – the pile that never seemed to get any smaller no matter how many hours he devoted to it.
“He’s actually here in the office?” asked Ben incredulously. “Not just on the phone?”
“Sitting right across from me,” confirmed Kym in a hushed tone.
Once again Ben’s mind began to wander in half a dozen different directions about what Lauren’s father could possibly want to speak to him about. But even as he tried to come up with a plausible reason, he found himself tidying the various stacks of papers into one neat pile, and telling Kym, “Okay. Give me about two minutes and then send him in.”
“You got it.”
As he hurried to finish straightening up his desk, Ben glanced at his computer monitor and was startled to note it was already past four o’clock. It had been a relatively quiet day, save for the mounds of paperwork he was trying to catch up on, but he had figured that things would be low key given that it was only two days before Thanksgiving. The office was barely half staffed, with no one currently out on assignment, and would be closed starting tomorrow for a few days. He was determined to finish everything up by tonight so that he and Elle could leave town at a decent hour tomorrow. They were spending the holiday weekend with friends of hers who owned a sprawling estate in the Hamptons, and he wasn’t especially looking forward to it. They had spent last Thanksgiving with Katrina and Duncan, too, and Ben had felt very much out of place in their opulent mansion. Their “little holiday gathering” had wound up including over two dozen people, and he’d struggled for a good part of the time to pretend he was enjoying himself. All he had really wanted was to eat a hearty turkey dinner, put his feet up, and watch football for a few hours. Instead, he’d made small talk with a lot of pretentious snobs and tried his damndest not to let Elle know how miserable he was, especially since she was so obviously enjoying herself. Needless to say, a repeat performance of last year was just about the last thing he wanted to do this holiday weekend.
But he was trying, really trying, to work on his relationship with Elle, to do more things that made her happy, and therefore circumvent any of her little emotional upheavals and upsets. And things had been considerably calmer as of late, though part of that was because both of them had been traveling on business and hadn’t seen much of each other. Her parents had just left town this past weekend after an extended visit, and Elle always kept her emotions well in check when they were around.
Ben figured that spending the Thanksgiving weekend with Elle’s stuck-up friends was just part of being a supportive boyfriend, and that he would have to suck it up for a few days. Which unfortunately also meant dressing up each day, wearing the tailored slacks, dress shirts, and cashmere sweaters that every other male present would be wearing. He’d have to leave his favored attire – like he was wearing right now – of dark wash jeans, an olive green Henley, and Merrell hiking boots behind.
He worried briefly that he might be dressed a little too casually to be meeting Lauren’s father for the first time, but that worry was quickly dismissed as Robert McKinnon strode into his office.