“Because something’s been troubling you for a while now, Laurie.” He was the only person in the world who could get away with using that particular nickname. “You seem sad sometimes. Maybe even a little depressed. And that, my girl, is not like you at all. So tell your old dad what the matter is.”
Lauren hesitated, sorely tempted to cry it all out on her father’s broad, comforting shoulder, knowing that somehow he would make it all okay. But she was too old now, and far too proud, to go crying to her daddy when she needed soothing. It had been a long, long time since she had done something like that, having been fiercely independent from the time she could walk.
“It’s nothing really, Daddy,” she fudged. “Just, well, I guess I’m still mad at my boss for not sending me to Brazil. And I don’t care what excuses he gave me. I still say he held me back on purpose.”
Robert guffawed. “You do hold a grudge, don’t you, darlin’? Well, in my opinion, your boss is both very wise and very brave. In fact, the next time I’m in New York I’m going to buy him a drink to thank him. And if he had let you go to Brazil knowing the danger involved, I would have either insisted he got fired or had his head examined.”
“Daddy, you aren’t serious are you” asked Lauren, trying to disguise the panic his words had initiated. “You’re not really going to ask Ben out for a drink, are you?”
He winked. “What’s the matter, Laurie? Afraid your boss will tell me tales about some of your adventures? Trust me, darlin’, there’s really nothing I’d be shocked to hear about you at this point.”
‘Oh, yeah?’ she asked herself wildly. ‘How about the fact that my boss and I had a wild fling five years ago right here in this very cabin. In fact, I think one of the many places we, uh, flung was right about where you’re having pie and coffee.’
But of course she said nothing about her ill-fated affair with Ben, keeping it to herself as she had done for such a long time. She quickly changed the subject, asking her father about his favorite soccer team, knowing that he’d happily converse on that topic for endless minutes.
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.