Running Wilde (The Winnie Wilde Series Book 1) (9 page)

She finally turned to him, a peaceful look on her face. “I’m more than okay. I’m happy. Very happy.”

He kissed her. “Good. Me too.”

Ben got up and left the room. She could hear him peeing in the bathroom followed by a few minutes of the shower running. He was toweling off when he returned to the bedroom. “Boy, was I sweaty after that.”

He’d brought a wet face cloth with him. Dropping his towel to the floor, he knelt down next to Winnie and started gently dabbing and caressing her body with it. It was very wet and warm.

“That feels nice,” she cooed.

He lay down next to her and continued running the cloth over her while his mouth followed behind it, licking and slurping. She giggled. He moved so that he was on top of her again, and started kissing and sucking his way down her body, starting with her armpits and neck and shoulders. Slowly and methodically he covered her body with his mouth, doing each leg individually until both of her knees and all ten of her toes had been property sucked. She giggled more and luxuriated in his touch. When he spread her legs wide and buried his mouth between them, she squealed with delight. Seconds later, she was bucking her hips against his face and gasping, but he didn’t let up. He went at her without mercy, driving her to the edge, stopping, then taking her back to the edge again.

She yelped when a finger entered her bottom. Ben stopped. When her body relaxed, signaling it was okay, he gently probed her while his mouth continued to drive her mad. She clutched the folds of the sleeping bag and held on, riding out each shivering wave. Winnie didn’t know if this went on for minutes or for hours and she didn’t care. She didn’t want it to stop.

She stared up at the ceiling with its crown molding and charming old fashion light fixture. Her eyes opening and closing as wave after wave of lust coursed through her from Ben’s manipulation. Winnie knew without a doubt that she would be on her back shivering with delight and staring up at that light fixture for a long time to come.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Now that we’ve agreed on a price,” Ben said between bites of kung pao chicken, “I’ll have my real estate attorney draw up the contracts.”

“Sounds good to me,” Winnie said. She scooped some spicy eggplant into her mouth and chewed, then picked up a piece with her chopsticks and held it out toward Ben. “Try this, it’s great.”

He opened his mouth wide like a baby bird and she popped the vegetable hunk into it. After chewing and swallowing, he said, “That is good. I’ve never had that before” He took a drink from a nearby water bottle. “This has to be the easiest deal I’ve ever done.”

“Which is a good thing considering I’m going to be fighting with Edward over the price of my house.”

“If he doesn’t give you what you want,” Ben advised, “walk away.”

“I know him,” Winnie said, pointing empty chopsticks in the air. “He’s obsessive about things. He’s barely shown his face to me in the past two years. If he came to me in person wanting to buy the house, he really wants it bad. I’ll get him to meet my price.” She paused. “At least Kathy will.”

They were standing at the kitchen island in the Santa Monica house gulping down Chinese takeout for dinner. Ben was in his jeans and Winnie was wearing his t-shirt. While they had waited for dinner to arrive, Winnie called Kathy and told her what was going on with the Cheviot Hills house and her decision to buy the house in Santa Monica. When she’d told Kathy the price Edward had offered for the big house and its furnishings, Kathy had cackled in disbelief. “If he wants to live there with his little bimbo, he going to have to pay for it,” she’d told Winnie. They discussed the bottom line Winnie was willing to take and Kathy said she would call Edward that evening with a much higher counter.

“Do you want to shower here before we leave,” Ben asked when they were done eating, “or wait until you get home? I keep a stash of clean towels in the bathroom.”

Winnie looked around, then said, “I am home. Can we sleep here tonight?”

Ben shrugged, “Sure if you don’t mind a sleeping bag on a hard wood floor.”

She grinned, “I’m game if you are.”

Ben reached out and stroked her face, tracing the thin lines at the corner of her left eye. “I know you have to go back to the Cheviot Hills house sometime, but you don’t ever have to sleep there again if you don’t want to. We can buy you a new bed.”

She thought about that while she polished off the last of the fried rice. “As tempting as that is, it will be easier packing and planning if I’m there. And you can finish this place faster if I’m not underfoot. I should be back here in a couple of weeks.”

“Less,” he told her. “I’ll start by painting the master bedroom that dove gray, just in case you change your mind.”

“And my bedroom furniture will be moved here,” she told him. “I bought it after Edward and I split.”

“That explains why it doesn’t match the rest of the house,” he said. “It’s more casual in design and the rest of the house is very traditional. It’s the only room in the house that feels like you. It will go nicely in the bedroom here.”

She gave him a warm smile, pleased at his observation. “Have you ordered appliances yet?” she asked, turning her attention to the empty spots in the kitchen.

“Not yet,” he told her, “so if you want to pick out the ones you want, go for it. We can go together sometime this weekend to do it. And we can pick the paint for the other rooms. I was thinking of a soft taupe for the living and dining rooms and maybe a soft salmon for the kitchen, similar to what’s in the bathroom. I’ll get some paint samples for you to check out.”

“Sounds good. And Kathy said she wants to go with me to shop for furniture.” She paused. “I’m going to wait to see if Edward buys the house, lock, stock and barrel like he said. If not, I’ll have some things to bring over.”

After eating, they curled up in the sleeping bag and talked until they fell asleep. In the morning they made love. Not with the animal wildness of the night before, but sweet, tender lovemaking. By nine, he was painting the garage wall at the other house and she was packing up the kitchen. Vicki/Victoria may be sitting on her furniture in the near future, but Winnie wasn’t about to let her use her pots and pans and dishes. Just after noon, Kathy had called with a counter offer from Edward, which Winnie turned down, as Kathy knew she would. She said she’d counter him with another figure, still much higher than what he wanted to pay.

After a quick lunch of leftover lasagna and salad, Ben left to pick up packing boxes and moving wardrobes while Winnie continued going through things. In the cabinet at the bottom of the hutch in the dining room were padded containers containing her good china and crystal, most of which were wedding gifts. Kneeling on the carpet, she pulled out several containers and opened them, studying the beautiful but fussy pattern on the fine porcelain. She like it, but it hadn’t been her first choice. It had been Edward’s. Same with the crystal. Choosing wedding china, crystal and silver had seemed so important to her when she was a young bride, even if the dishes were only used two to three times a year. Closing the quilted containers, she returned them to the breakfront. Her life was not going to be so formal now, she decided. Let Vicki have them. Winnie would take the everyday dishes and if she needed nicer ones for entertaining, she’d buy some that she liked better. She looked into the cabinet at the dishes returned to the safety of their containers. No, she thought, let Tiffany have them. This was her wedding china and she wasn’t about to surrender that to Vicki and Edward. The house was enough.

Winnie heard the front door open and shut and went on alert. It had been locked and Ben didn’t have the key. Her first thought was that Edward had returned, but he didn’t have the key either. She’d had the entire place re-keyed when they’d split up. Nadia had a key, but Winnie didn’t expect her today. Just as she got up from the floor in front of the breakfront, she heard Chet called out, “Mom, you home?”

“In the dining room,” she called.

Chet and Tiffany came around the corner. Winnie started to greet them with a hug but the look on their faces stopped her in her tracks “What’s wrong?” she asked with alarm, worried that something had happened to Amanda and Kate or to Mark. “Why are you two here on a work day?”

“We both left work early today to come talk to you, Mom,” Chet answered. “It’s important.”

“Are you going to sell the house to Dad?” Tiffany demanded.

Winnie relaxed, relieved that the crisis wasn’t an important one. “We’re in negotiations now. He wants it and I don’t.” Winnie eyed her children as she walked from the formal dining room back into the kitchen where they could be more comfortable. “Did he send you here to get the price down?”

“You can’t sell it to him, Mom,” Chet said following her. “We don’t want that.”

Winnie went to the fridge and opened it. “Can I get you some tea or a soda or something?” When both shook their heads, Winnie grabbed a bottle of fizzy lemon water for herself. “I thought you two didn’t want me to sell the house. By selling to your father, it keeps it in the family and you can still come here like always. It’s a win-win for everyone. In fact, you can probably still keep the stuff here that you haven’t moved yet.” She unscrewed the cap from the water and took a long drink.

“We want you to stay here, Mom,” Tiffany said with a long face. “We don’t want that little bitch here.”

Winnie took a seat at the kitchen table. “According to your father, that little bitch is going to be your step-mother in about two weeks. As for me, I just put an offer in on the cutest little place in Santa Monica and I’m pretty sure the owner will accept it. By the time your father returns from his honeymoon, I’ll be gone from here for good.” She hesitated while the news sunk into their skulls. “By the way, I don’t want my wedding china and crystal, so if either of you want it, take it before Vicki and your dad take possession of the house.”

“But Mom,” Chet protested, taking a seat at the table with her.

Winnie held up a hand to stop him. “I’m starting over. I have a new life and new interests. Even before your father made a bid for the house, you knew I was going to sell it and move. This isn’t news.” She leaned forward and patted Chet’s arm. “It’s all going to be okay.”

“Is that a hickey?” Tiffany asked in horror.

Winnie glanced at her daughter and noticed her looking down the front of her shirt, where it gaped when she leaned forward to comfort Chet. She looked down and saw one of the hickeys from the night before, the largest, exposed like a purple blossom just above her left bra cup. Winnie straighten, “Yes, it is,” she answered truthfully. “You said you wanted me to find companionship and I did.”

“That’s disgusting,” Tiffany spat out. “So Dad’s right? He told me you’re sleeping with the handyman.”

“What?” Chet asked with surprise. He turned to his sister. “You didn’t tell me that, Tiff.”

“Because I didn’t believe it until now.”

“Ben is not a handyman,” Winnie said, getting defensive. “He’s a licensed contractor with his own business and a college graduate.” She swallowed hard. “And even if he was just a handyman, it’s really none of your business. I like him. We like each other.”

“What happened to the guy you met running?” Chet asked, getting to his feet. “I thought you were dating him.”

“That’s Ben,” Winnie answered. “We met while running, before he came here to work on the house. We’ve been dating for a couple of weeks now.”

“Dad said this guy is our age,” Tiffany said with growing disgust. “Is part of finding yourself becoming a desperate cougar?”

It was Winnie’s turn to leap to her feet. “Listen here, young lady. I’ll do with my life as I please. For the record, Ben is twenty-eight. We like each other and we’re going to continue seeing each other. He treats me much better than your father ever did.”

“I don’t recall you ever having love bites when you were married to Dad,” Tiffany shot back.

“No, I didn’t,” Winnie snapped. “Maybe if I had, we would have been happier in our marriage.”

Just then the back gate opened and Ben entered carting folded up moving boxes. The three of them watched through the large kitchen window while he stacked them against the inside wall and left to get more.

“Is that him?” Chet asked. “Is that the Ben guy?”

“Yes,” Winnie answered. “He’s done with the house and is going to help me pack and move.”

“Does he have hickeys all over him too?” Tiffany asked with a sneer.

Winnie turned on her daughter. “As a matter-of-fact, he does. Maybe if you ask nice, he’ll raise his shirt and show them to you.”

Ben returned with more boxes and stacked them with the others, oblivious to the drama going on inside the house. Chet yanked open the back door and stormed outside. “Hey,” he called to Ben before he could leave to fetch more boxes from his truck. “I’m Chet Crenshaw.”

Ben turned and smiled, holding out a hand toward Chet in greeting. But Chet had other ideas. Instead of shaking Ben’s hand, he threw a punch at him, landing it squarely on Ben’s jaw. Ben fell back against the wall. He staggered to get his bearing and came back to take his own swing at Chet. Chet ducked and the blow glanced off his side shoulder. Chet responded with another jab, but this time Ben saw it coming.

Winnie and Tiffany both let out a succession of short screams. Winnie ran out to stop the fracas. By the time she reached them, the two men were locked tightly together, getting in whatever blows they could, grunting and swearing, moving and turning together like dancers to disjointed music. They were getting very close to the end of the pool. When they were on the edge, Winnie ran at them, shoving them into the water.

The two combatants came apart in the pool. Flailing and sputtering while they each got their bearings.

“Enough!” Winnie shouted at them. “Enough.” She turned to her daughter, who was standing by the back door wide-eyed. “Tiffany, go grab some towels.”

Ben was the first to climb out of the pool. He hoisted himself up and over the side and rolled onto the concrete apron. By the time he was on his feet, Chet was sloshing his way up the end steps. Tiffany came out with the towels but just stood there clutching them. Winnie grabbed them from her and threw one at each man.

“Chet, shame on you,” she said to her son as he dried off. “Ben offered you his hand and you hit him.”

Ignoring her, Chet pointed at Ben, “You stay away from my mother.”

Ben ran the towel over his head. “That’s her decision, not yours.”

Chet looked at Winnie, his face contorted in anger and hurt. “Have you no shame, Mom? He’s my age.”

Winnie crossed her arms in front of her. “Vicki is your age too,” she said to both of her children. “Did one of you try to punch her lights out when she started dating your father?”

“That’s different,” Chet said, rubbing the towel over his body.

“How is that different, Chet?” Winnie asked angrily. She moved to stand in front of him. “Both your father and I have found people much younger than us. Big deal! Look around. It happens all the time. At least I waited until after our divorce to sleep with someone. Your father was having sex with Vicki upstairs in our bed when I wasn’t around.” She looked from Chet to Tiffany. “Did you guys know that? And who knows who else he had up there when I wasn’t home?”

“That’s not true,” Tiffany protested.