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Authors: Kendall Ryan

Tags: #Romance, #Erotica, #Contemporary

Craving Him (4 page)

BOOK: Craving Him
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Ben

Emmy was dead weight in my arms. I hated seeing her like this, knowing she felt like shit. I placed her on my bed and went about removing her dress, bra, and panties. I dressed her in a pair of my boxer shorts and a T-shirt. My lucky Yankees shirt. Maybe it would make her feel better.

She curled into a ball in the center of my bed. “Benn . . .” Her arm failed out, her hand searching for me in a grabby motion.

“I’m right here, baby.” I gripped her hand, sliding my fingers between hers. “Shh. I’ve got you.”

“My head hurts,” she croaked.

“Let’s get you settled.” I shifted her so that she was positioned higher up on the mattress and slid a pillow underneath her head, then I pulled the comforter around her. “How’s that?”

She didn’t answer right away, and I was wondering if she’d passed out.

“You saw me barf.”

I suppressed a chuckle. “You were sick, honey. I wanted to take care of you.”

“I’m s-sorry. . . .” she groaned.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. Just rest, okay?” I smoothed the hair back from her face. She looked so sweet, so vulnerable, passed out drunk against my pillow, dressed in my Yankees T-shirt. I continued just watching her, caressing her cheek and tucking her hair behind her ear.

She mumbled something unintelligible. “Bennn . . .” she groaned.

Shit
. I was about to lift her up and carry her back to the bathroom just in case she was going to be sick again. “Yeah, baby?”

Emmy pouted, her bottom lip jutting out like she might cry. “She looked really pretty . . . she had a cute tummy. . . .”

What?

Oh.

Pregnant Fiona.

Emmy’s brow crinkled in concentration as she fought sleep. “She’s having a . . . a b-baby, and it might be your baby, right, Ben?”

“I don’t think it’s my baby.” I choked on the words. We were seriously discussing this
now
? I almost considered leaving her to sleep but I was too curious to hear what else she might say.

“Me and you are gonna make pretty babies,” she said.

Holy shit
. Was she serious? I didn’t want a baby.

“The prettiest,” I agreed. “Now sleep, honey.” I patted her butt and she let out a soft groan.

Fuck
. I paced the living room floor. I couldn’t handle seeing Emmy like this . . . and then hearing her talk about wanting a baby . . . with me? Maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but shit. I was nowhere near ready for a baby. I was still learning about how to be a boyfriend. And I wasn’t even very good at that.

Too keyed up for sleep, I sat down on the armchair with my iPad.

5

Emmy

The room was much too bright, and my throat felt raw and scratchy. I blinked my eyes open and attempted to swallow.

Ouch
.

It was raw and irritated.

What the hell happened last night?

Oh God.
Memories flashed into focus. Fiona with her perfect little baby bump. Me binging on liquor. I struggled to remember what happened after that.

I blinked at my surroundings. Ben lay next to me, asleep and resting peacefully, his hair rumpled from sleep and a crease across one cheek.

I was glad I was here with him but how had I gotten into his bed?

Memories of getting sick in his bathroom and him tucking me into bed danced in my subconscious.

God, my head was pounding.

I flung off the blankets and climbed from the bed on unsteady legs, trying to be as quiet as possible. I wanted to let him sleep. I shuffled to the kitchen for a glass of water. I’d downed half of it when my stomach grumbled loudly. Rather than finishing the water, like my parched throat craved, I heeded the advice of my stomach and set the glass of water on the counter. We’d need to take it easy today.

I heated up the shower to wash last night’s makeup and grime from my skin. The water felt divine, and after shampooing my hair with Ben’s all-purpose hair-and-body wash that smelled like light, crisp cologne, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and shuffled back to the bedroom. I redressed in the pajamas he must have put me in—boxers and a T-shirt.

When I climbed in beside him Ben rolled toward me and covered my body in a hug. “Mmm, morning, baby. . . .” he mumbled, his lips brushing my collarbone.

“Morning.” I curled into him, tangling my legs with his.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay. A little queasy,” I admitted.

“I can make you some toast if you like.”

“That’s all right. I should probably get home.” Nothing like overstaying your welcome. He was used to having his own space, peace, and quiet, I was sure.

His arms tightened around me. “You’re not going anywhere today.”

I laughed softly. “Oh, really?”

“You’re mine today. Know that.”

I smiled at his conviction. I loved knowing I was his. Hopefully I didn’t do anything too awkward when I was drunk last night. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Of course, baby. You were kind of cute.”

My brows squeezed together, struggling to remember what I might have done or said. “Did I, um, say anything embarrassing last night?”

His body stiffened over the top of mine. “Don’t worry about that. You were drunk.” He climbed from the bed, tossing a T-shirt over his head and leaving me to wonder what I’d possibly said that had him acting standoffish.

Shit
.

“Ben?”

He looked down at the plush carpeting. “You, ah, mentioned something about us having pretty babies.”

“Oh.” Well, that was dumb. Sheesh, why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut? Alcohol was like truth serum for me. Things I didn’t mean to say just spewed out, apparently. “I’m sorry about that,” I apologized weakly.

He shook his head. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Okay.” It wasn’t lost on me that he didn’t address my baby comment. He’d all but fled the room.
Dammit.

I ventured into the bathroom, combed my hair, and secured it in a braid over my shoulder. I knew I was stalling but I just needed a minute before facing him. We hadn’t even been dating long, and now I was talking about having a baby with him. Lord, help me. I wouldn’t blame him if he went running for the hills. Several moments later I joined him in the kitchen.

He had brewed coffee and was rummaging through his nearly empty fridge. “That mug’s for you, babe. I’m trying to see what I can make you.”

I wrapped my hands around the warm coffee cup and peeked around Ben’s shoulder. The fridge contained an odd collection of condiments and expensive bottled water.

“Looks like I’ll have to go out hunting and gathering to feed my woman.” Ben smiled warmly, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. “Anything in particular sound good?”

I shook my head. Tolerating any food with my shaky stomach would be a miracle.

“I’ve got just the thing: Benji’s House of Noodles. Hangover-cure food. Trust me. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer, but maybe I should just head home. I won’t make very good company today. I’m hung over, PMSing . . .” I paused.
Oops
. Hadn’t really meant to say that part out loud.

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Hush. I’m taking care of you today. It won’t take me long to grab the food.”

His palate was surely more adventurous than mine. He was well traveled, and had lived in New York City for many years, one of the most culturally diverse places in the world. I didn’t think my queasy stomach could handle curry or anything too spicy or adventurous right now. But I merely nodded. I trusted him. I just didn’t trust my stomach.

“Go relax.” He gave me a gentle pat on the butt. “Advil’s in the bathroom cabinet. I’ll be back soon.”

I crawled into bed when Ben left, and though I hadn’t expected to fall asleep, the sound of the front door closing woke me a little while later.

I ventured into the kitchen and found Ben unpacking cartons of food on the butcher-block island in the kitchen. Fragrant aromas of garlic and sautéed chicken and vegetables greeted me. It smelled terrific and my stomach grumbled at the thought of something warm to fill it.

Ben gathered bowls from the cabinet and dumped the contents of the containers inside. “You’ll love this place. It’s a favorite of mine when I’m in New York. Just don’t tell Fiona.” His gaze flicked to mine, his eyes wide, like he couldn’t believe he’d just spoken her name.

I involuntarily flinched, but quickly recovered, shrugging it off. “My lips are sealed.” I smiled.

Ben’s easy smile returned as he recovered from his faux pas of mentioning she who must not be named.

The sight of the thin noodles tossed in light sauce with chicken and julienned vegetables made my mouth water. It wasn’t a conventional breakfast but considering it was already noon, it was perfect.

Ben poured us each a glass of ice water from a filtered pitcher in the fridge and we took our bowls of noodles into the living room. Settling on the couch, I took a big bite. Ben watched me, waiting for my reaction.

“Awesome, isn’t it?”

“Oh my God,” I moaned through the mouthful of noodles. “Don’t talk to me.” I held up a hand, chewing slowly to savor the flavors. “Good Lord, that’s good,” I confirmed, digging in for another bite.

Ben chuckled and took a bite of his own. “Told you. I swear they put crack in their food. It’s fucking addictive.”

I nodded, happily stuffing another bite of the delicious noodles into my mouth. Once my entire bowl was gone, I stopped myself from actually licking the sauce from the bottom of the dish and instead let Ben put it in the dishwasher. Lounging back against the sofa, I rubbed my full belly. Gosh, this thing could almost rival Fiona’s right now. My little food bump.

I decided to text Ellie to let her know I was staying at Ben’s.

Me: Bad PMS. And a hangover. He’s pampering me so gonna stay here. : )

Ellie: Lucky girl. Guys I’ve dated usually want anal sex when I’m on my period. He’s a keeper! Lol.

I chuckled and stuffed my phone back into my purse. Lord, that girl cracked me up.

“Everything okay?” Ben asked, an amused expression on his face.

I realized I’d just been caught laughing to myself. “Fine.” I didn’t want to tell him about Ellie’s
anal
comment. No sense giving him ideas. But she was right, he was a keeper.

6

Emmy

Dating in New York was fun, exotic, and exhausting. We’d been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, dined at authentic ethnic restaurants in Chinatown and Little Italy, visited Broadway and the American Ballet Theatre, and spent an entire chilly Saturday at the Central Park Zoo, where Ben had been once before as a child and which of course I’d never seen.

We shared cocktails at cozy bars, and Ben taught me the fine art of slurping freshly shucked oysters at a quaint riverside seafood bar. He knew New York City and he’d taken dating and going slow to the next level. I’d never been so thoroughly wined and dined. And yet so sexually frustrated.

I was ready to take things to the next level but each night after our dates he’d either drop me off at home with Ellie or tuck me into his bed with a sweet kiss on the nights I stayed there. Nothing more.

Deciding to take matters into my own hands, I’d planned our date for that Saturday night. After consulting Ellie on what type of date might get Ben’s blood flowing in the right direction, and declining her idea of visiting a strip club together, I settled on taking him for dessert. Chocolate fondue, specifically.

I’d planned this romantic date and tonight was supposed to be all about me and him, but after spending my entire Saturday searching online and applying for jobs, I was frustrated and tired. I felt down about myself. For all the work I’d put in so far, I’d gotten only two calls on my résumé. And neither looked promising.

I was in the middle of apologizing to Ellie about my lack of ability to pay half the rent when Ben arrived.

His knock on the door interrupted a tense moment and I answered, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“You look gorgeous, babe.” His hand settled against my hip. “Are you ready?”

“I’m sorry, but can you just give us a minute? I was discussing something with Ellie.”

“Of course.” He patted my behind as he’d grown fond of doing.

Ellie shook her head. “Will you please take your girl out tonight, get her drunk, and tell her to stop worrying? Give her the dick or something because she needs some serious stress relief.”

“Ellie,” I warned.

“And since I hear you’re hung like a hippo, I’m guessing that large love-stick would do the trick.”

Crossing the room, I slapped a hand over Ellie’s mouth then shot a worried glance at Ben. His expression was amused, and not the least bit embarrassed.

“She said that, huh? A hippo?” A slow smile twitched across his mouth as his lips slowly curved upward. He was gorgeous when he smiled.

Giving him a look of apology, I bit my cheek.

Ben’s answering grin told me he wasn’t the least bit shy that I’d shared this information. “I’ll see what I can do to de-stress her, but first tell me what all this is about.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and waited.

Ellie removed my hand from her mouth. “Emmy’s freaking out because she hasn’t found a job yet. I told her not to worry about the rent. I picked up some overtime and I have it covered.”

Ben’s easy smile disappeared, curving into a frown. I’d been avoiding bringing him into my drama. I knew I’d find a job eventually, I just didn’t know why it was taking so long. “How much is her rent here? I’ll take care of it,” he said, his tone stern and unyielding.

“No. Ben, you’re not paying my rent.” I knew he had money but that was ridiculous.

He waved me off, still looking directly at Ellie, waiting for her response.

“Her half is nine hundred,” she squeaked out.

Traitor.
Damn her. He was intimidating when he pinned you with that stare. I knew that from experience. It seemed Ellie wasn’t immune to it, either.

I faced him, planting my hands on my hips. “Ben, don’t worry about it. I’m going to find a job.” I would. Soon. Even if I had to work at the coffee shop up the street. I’d figure it out.

His gaze slid down my body, caressing my curves. “Emmy.”

The careful way my name rolled off his tongue and the soft warning in his tone sent a tingle of awareness zipping down my spine. I found it difficult to disobey him in any fashion. I was needy for him, for his approval, and I subconsciously wanted to please him. In all things. My hands dropped from my hips in silent obedience. I’d missed him so much during our time apart. It had changed something in me.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” he said.

“Okay. Now?”

“No. Let’s wait until we get there and grab a drink.”

My stomach did a little flip-flop. I hoped it wasn’t anything bad. But why else would he want me sitting down with a drink in hand? “Okay.” I grabbed my purse and coat and let him lead me outside.

Henry drove us to the café I’d selected and dropped us off right in front, which was good because it was freezing out.

Soon Ben and I were seated in a cozy leather booth in the back corner of a dimly lit wine and dessert café. Giant snowflakes—the first of the season—were falling against a darkened sky outside. It was pretty, magical, and romantic.

I shrugged off my pea coat and Ben hung it on the hooks provided by our table. I was dressed in black ankle pants and a burgundy silk blouse with a chunky gold necklace. Ben looked yummy, as always. His dress shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, rolled at the sleeves, and only one half of the front was tucked in—showing off his belt and the bulge in the front of his jeans, which was rather impressive.
Focus, Emmy!
Tonight was about showing him I was ready for more.

We sat with glasses of ruby-colored wine, sipping them and chatting as I wondered what he wanted to talk to me about. We made small talk about his latest shoot—there was a live tiger there. It was for some luxury men’s brand I’d never heard of, but apparently using a tiger was the ultimate display of masculinity.

When our chocolate fondue arrived we both leaned forward to inspect the goods: a couple of long, two-tined forks, bite-sized pieces of angel food cake, luscious ripe red strawberries, sliced bananas, and brownies cut into quarters.
Mmmm
. Ben grabbed a slice of banana while I went for a strawberry.

The first bite exploded on my taste buds. Warm silken chocolate danced on my tongue and sweet droplets of juice from the berry mixed in an enticing way. This was the perfect meal, in my opinion. Taking a sip of the red wine, I let the flavors mingle.

When I opened my eyes Ben was still watching me, his dark gaze penetrating and possessive. It sent a pulse of heat racing through my core.

He picked up a piece of the brownie next, setting it on his plate. “Good choice, this place.”

“Thanks.” I beamed at the small compliment, happy that I could bring Ben somewhere he had never been. . . . After swallowing another sip of my wine for courage I asked, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Ben didn’t hesitate. “I just got booked for a job in Fiji. I want you to come.”

His tone left little room for negotiation. I knew I should’ve pointed out that I needed to be here, looking for jobs, hopefully attending interviews, but that wasn’t what my brain immediately jumped to. “Will Fiona be there with you?” I didn’t want them left unattended again.

He nodded, his gaze darting down to his plate. He picked up the piece of brownie, swirled it in the melted chocolate sauce, then held it before my lips. “Open,” he whispered.

I obeyed and Ben fed me a bite of the decadent dessert. Something about the way he watched me while I chewed had all my nerve endings firing. Could I really go with him to Fiji? Could I handle an extended stay around
her
? “How long are you there for?”

“Six days. We leave on Wednesday.”

We
. Part of me hated how sure he was. And that was only a few days away. Most of me found it sexy. He was so confident and in control all the time. And apparently I was a sucker for an alpha male, if the growing moisture in my panties was any indication. “I don’t know. Do you really think it’s a good idea for us to be around each other?”

“You’re mine and I want you with me. It’s that simple.”

My stomach tightened with a flicker of desire. I wanted to be with him, too. Wherever he was.

He reached across the table and took my hand. “I’m not tiptoeing around Fiona. She’ll have to get used to us together, and I don’t want to be without you, so I’m hoping for my sake that you’ll come.”

I nodded. “I’ll think about it.” I should probably stay in New York to be available for job interviews but I found myself giddy at the thought of escaping the dreary, cold weather in favor of a warm and tropical climate with him.

We didn’t say anything for a long moment, just continued smiling at each other like two love-sick idiots. Ben broke the spell by chuckling and shaking his head.

“If I had known I’d be in a bikini in two days, I probably would have chosen a less fattening date for us tonight.”

“Nonsense. Your body’s perfect, baby. Eat up.”

I loved how Ben appreciated my curves. Not that I needed his permission to enjoy this dessert. No way any of this was going to waste. “Chocolate’s an aphrodisiac, you know?” I licked the droplet of warm, melted chocolate from my bottom lip then let my teeth graze the flesh there.

He watched me with a heated stare yet he remained poised and seemingly unaffected.

I upped the ante, slipping my shoe off under the table and bringing my foot to his lap.

His eyes were locked on my mouth and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Be careful, Emmy. I’ll take you in the back and fuck you in the bathroom if you can’t behave.”

My heart thumped erratically in my chest and my body instinctively responded to the dark tone of his voice. It had been my idea to wait and now he was using it against me.

“You said you wanted to wait. Did you change your mind?”

I met his stare, my breathing suddenly hitching in my throat. “I-I’m not sure,” I murmured.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he said, his voice low and seductive.

“What’s that?”

“The chocolate, the wine, the romance. You want me. It’s okay, I understand.” He treated me to one of his panty-melting smiles and I giggled nervously. “If you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is beg me.”

Holy mother.
I pressed my thighs together. I wouldn’t beg him. Would I? But I pretty much broke every rule when it came to him. I’d jumped into bed and into this tumultuous relationship with him. I’d had a threesome with him and his friend simply because I couldn’t stand the idea that Fiona had something I hadn’t. My brain didn’t work so well when I was near him. Logical thought went out the window, and instead I followed my body’s instincts. Still, I couldn’t believe how much he could turn me on with a heated stare and a bit of dirty talk. It really wasn’t fair.

“Ben . . . that word . . .”

“Fuck?”

“Yeah. It’s just so . . .”

“So, what?”

“Vulgar. Crass.”

“If you want to be fucked raw, or make love, I’m happy to oblige whatever you want.” He leaned closer, his intense, hazel gaze locked on mine. “But I seem to remember you liked it hard. I’m just trying to be helpful.”

Blood rushed into my cheeks as my face heated. More like he was trying to kill me. I clamped my thighs together and straightened my spine, refocusing on the uneaten food on my plate.

Ben chuckled under his breath.

Soon after he paid the check and led me outside to where Henry was parked and waiting for us. Ben opened the passenger door and I slipped inside. I knew without asking that we’d be going to his place to spend the night. And I had no plans of arguing with him over that.

Henry zipped away from the curb and Ben laced his fingers in mine.

BOOK: Craving Him
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