“Well, apparently your sister and brother-in-law didn’t seem to share your opinion,” he informed her. “They’ve been worried about you, along with your parents.”
Lauren snorted. “Well, everyone needs to butt out and let me live my life,” she declared. “And that includes you – boss.”
“If you really mean that,” he replied gently, “then why did you come to my office this afternoon and want to talk?”
She shrugged. “Stupid idea. Call it an impulse, a bad one. And it’s all forgotten now, okay?”
Ben shook his head. “Not on your life. One way or the other you’re going to tell me exactly what you wanted to talk about. Will your aunt be at home when we arrive?”
“No. She’s busy making up for lost time with James this weekend over at his hotel. Guess she doesn’t want me to overhear their, uh, activities. Jeez, between her and my sister it’s a wonder I haven’t been warped for life. They just think they’re being quiet.”
Ben bit down on his bottom life, stifling a rather pathetic little groan as Lauren’s statement brought back memories of exactly how noisy she had been during sex. It was a good thing, he thought wryly, that the nearest neighbor at her place in Big Sur had been too far away to overhear anything.
By the time they arrived at her aunt’s apartment building, Lauren was almost dozing off, and he had to wrap an arm around her waist to help her inside the lobby. The security guard gave Lauren a friendly wave, and nodded at Ben as he half-dragged her to the elevator.
Once inside the elevator Lauren began to giggle, and Ben wondered just how drunk she was to be acting in such an un-Lauren like manner. He kept an arm looped around her shoulders to hold her upright, and at some point he felt her arms slip around his waist, her head drooping onto his shoulder. He tried in vain to ignore how good it felt – how right – to be holding her this way, even though his intentions were strictly honorable.
But those same intentions became a little bit tougher to stick to as Lauren drunkenly pressed one full breast against his arm. He was instantly hard, especially when she began to nuzzle her nose against the side of his neck, her lips brushing the skin, and his body temperature ratcheted up by several degrees. It had been so long, he thought with a silent groan, since he’d been this aroused, this needy for a woman. And sex had never been as good as it had been with Lauren, probably because what they’d shared had been so much more than sex. It had been –
“We’re here!” she announced in a silly, sing-song voice as the elevator doors slid open. “Home sweet East coast home. Follow me, Blue Eyes.”
She grabbed his hand and tugged him down a short, thickly carpeted hallway to a set of double doors. After she fumbled around in her little purse for several seconds, Ben took the bag from her with barely concealed impatience so that he could find the key himself. He shook his head in exasperation when he found it alongside another of Lauren’s switchblades. This one, at least, was much smaller and far less deadly looking than the military issue blade he knew she still took along on trips.
“You really felt a need to bring a knife along to dinner with your sister and brother-in-law?” he asked, deftly opening the doors to her aunt’s apartment. “Were you afraid the restaurant didn’t sharpen their cutlery on a regular basis and you’d need something to cut your meat with?”
“Hah, hah.” She snatched her bag from him as she tottered inside. Ben gave a quick glance around the living room, finding it to be a warm, welcoming space in spite of the overall grandeur of the décor. The initial impression the penthouse gave off was one of understated wealth and pleasing esthetics.
Lauren wobbled over to the built-in wet bar and began opening cabinets. “Want a drink?”
“No.” He walked over to the bar and shut the cabinet door authoritatively. “And neither do you. Unless it’s coffee or tea or something else that will sober you up a little”
“Tea!” she scoffed. “That’s for old ladies and British people. And I really need to get some sleep, as you pointed out. Thanks to cheap-o Nadine and her cut rate travel arrangements. So no caffeine. But I could use a little nightcap, just something to help me sleep.”
Ben shook his head and led her away from the bar. “Sweetheart, you look like you’re going to keel over any second now. One more drink and you’ll be comatose. How about a soda?”
Lauren grimaced and shook her head, one hand clutching her belly. “I’ll pass. I think that ceviche we ate isn’t agreeing with me. Maybe some bad scallops.”
“Why don’t you sit down then?” he suggested. “And take off those boots before you fall over.”
Instead of following his advice, she propped a booted foot on the arm of the sofa and smiled at him provocatively, the short, flirty skirt of her dress riding up high enough to expose the tanned, toned muscles of her thigh. “You don’t like my boots, Ben?” she purred in a throaty voice. “Weren’t you the one who told me I should wear a dress or a skirt more often? And I couldn’t very well wear sneakers with a dress like this.”
He gulped as she ran her hands enticingly over her breasts and ribcage before trailing a finger down her exposed cleavage.
“Lauren,” he admonished, willing his massive erection to subside but quickly discovering that such a feat was a lost cause. “Come on, knock it off. You know this is just the booze talking. And speaking of talking, no time like the present, sweetheart. What did you want to discuss earlier today?”
Lauren smiled, and to Ben the smile looked a bit sad. “Did you know that you’re the only person who’s ever called me sweetheart? Most guys say babe or baby or honey.”
He returned her smile. “And you’re the only woman I’ve ever called sweetheart. But you’re avoiding the subject, Lauren. What did you come to see me about today?”
She lowered her foot to the floor and began to walk towards him slowly, suddenly as serious as he had ever seen her. “I came to tell you,” she began hesitantly, “that I was finally ready.”
“Ready for what?” he asked, puzzled.
She was standing right in front of him now, her eyes half-shut as she whispered, “For you to explain. To tell me about Big Sur. I decided that I needed to know the truth, whether I liked what I would hear or not.”
Ben was startled, because of all the things he’d guessed she wanted to discuss, this had not been one of them. “And what exactly prompted this decision?”
Lauren shook her head. “That doesn’t matter anymore. Because I just decided that I don’t feel like talking right now.”
He sighed, realizing that in her present inebriated state talking probably wasn’t such a great idea anyway. “Okay. I’ll bite. Why don’t you feel like talking anymore?”
She gave a wicked little laugh just before she slid her arms up around his neck, pressing her curvy little body flush against his. “Because I feel like doing this instead,” she whispered, and then tugged his head down to meet hers.
The first brush of their lips against each other felt like a lightning strike, or a flame bursting to life. The kiss was wild, hungry, and definitely dirty, a tangle of tongues as they sought to devour the other’s mouth. He kissed her as though he was starved for the taste and feel and smell of her – because he was. He slid his hands into her thick, tousled curls, holding her head still as one kiss morphed into a second and a third, going on and on. At some point she took one of his hands and drew it to her breasts. He squeezed one full mound roughly, and then could only stare in spellbound lust as she deftly unfasted the halter top of her dress, letting the fabric drift to her waist and expose her gloriously bare tits.
“Christ,” he rasped, his hands cupping her reverently, his thumbs brushing over the erect nipples before bending down to suck one pale pink tip into his mouth.
Lauren’s hands clutched his head close, her breath escaping in short, staccato pants. “God, that’s so good,” she breathed. “It’s been so long, baby. I’ve missed this so much. Missed you so much.”