Take Me Under (7 page)

“I haven’t actually accepted anything yet.” Knowing damn well that she was playing with fire, and more than a little surprised by how much she enjoyed it, Reese arched her brow again. “Maybe I’m just trying to decide how to tell you I’m not interested.”

“Like hell,” he said with a husky laugh, suddenly taking her mouth in another hard, devastating kiss. One that was over far too quickly for her liking this time. He had his hand buried in her hair, and he tilted her head back even more as he tugged on the strands, the slight sting on her scalp only making her burn hotter, until she could feel the fire all the way down in her belly. “I meant what I said, Reese. I’ll give you whatever you need. You just have to let me know what you want.”

Beautiful words—but she knew they weren’t true. He’d give her sex, maybe even friendship, but that’s all.

It’s better than nothing.

She didn’t know where that pragmatic thought had come from, but she couldn’t argue with it. Not now, when he was standing in front of her looking like sin incarnate. Wanting to push him, to shake him up like he was shaking her, she pressed her palm over his erection again and tightened her grip, rubbing him through the denim. “You know what, Ben? This thing of yours is ridiculously proportioned. Kind of like your ego.”

A flush shaded the crest of his cheekbones, his eyes hooded and dark. But a devilish grin kicked up the corner of his mouth. “It’s only ridiculous if I don’t know how to handle it.”

“Do you?” she asked, unable to keep an answering grin off her lips.

“Take me for a test drive and decide for yourself.”

Her grin instantly twisted with regret. “If I tried, I don’t think I’d even know what to do with you.”

“It’s easy. Just throw me down and fuck me till my eyes roll back in my head and I’ll be putty in your hands.”

“Is that right?” she asked, muffling an embarrassing giggle.

There was something spellbinding about the way he was smiling down at her, his lustful look edged with some intriguing emotion she couldn’t put a name to. “Well, you know what I’m like. As much as I’d enjoy it, I’d rather be the one doing the throwing,” he admitted with another husky laugh. “And the fucking.”

She swallowed, and tried to remember why this was such a bad idea. “You make it so hard to do the right thing, Ben.”

“Then just do me instead.” Curving his hand around the nape of her neck, he held her hard and tight as he took her mouth in another one of those
Is the world spinning out of control?
kisses. From the far corners of her pleasure-hazed mind, Reese was aware of him curling his other arm under her bottom and carrying her through the narrow archway that led into her dining room. She felt the cold surface of her small table hit the backs of her legs, and then he was laying her down . . . coming down over her, his hard chest crushing her breasts while his mouth ate at hers in a way that was wild and raw and outrageously sinful.

She didn’t remember doing it, but she had both hands fisted in his hair now, her tongue rubbing hungrily against his as he shoved his hand back into the front of her panties, then quickly shoved two of those long fingers back inside her. She was so wet she could hear the sound of his fingers thrusting, and she arched her back, pushing her breasts harder against him as he brought his thumb into the action, working her clit. Her heart pounded, thoughts as tangled and fractured as her breaths. She was already tightening, trembling, ready to come out of her freaking skin. Then he hooked his fingers and rubbed that sweet spot deep inside her—and that was it. With a breathless cry on her lips, she started coming, hard, her sex convulsing around his pumping fingers, gripping him tighter . . . and tighter.

“That’s it,” he groaned, lowering his head and biting her nipple through the thin shirt, then sucking it hard. “Let me hear it, Reese.”

She gasped, keening, unable to hold in the raw sobs as he suddenly pushed a third finger into her. He was stretching her to a point just shy of pain, but she didn’t care, the thick penetration hurtling her into a deeper level of orgasm that made her close her eyes, throw her head back . . . and scream so loud it probably shook the rafters.

Holy. Freaking. God.

It could have lasted an hour, or a mere handful of seconds. Reese had no idea, all sense of her surroundings and time completely annihilated beneath the bursts of mind-shattering ecstasy. When she finally blinked her eyes back open, she had no idea how long she’d been caught in that . . . whatever the hell
that
had been. An orgasm-induced meltdown? A head-spinning trip to another dimension? Whatever it was, the sensations had been so intense she felt as if she’d been permanently . . . changed. As if he’d left some kind of indelible mark on the very center of her universe. On her entire concept of her body and her self and what she was capable of feeling and experiencing.

Damn it, she’d known getting a taste of Ben Hudson would be dangerous. The guy was too freaking addictive for his own good!

“You have freckles on your thighs.” He was bracing himself on his left arm, his dark gaze burning with heat as it swept over her pale skin, before focusing in hard and tight on her sex. He pushed his fingers in a little deeper, making a low sound in his throat. “Christ, you even have a few little freckles on your cunt. That’s so fucking sexy, Reese.”

She wet her lips, searching for her voice. “You like freckles?”

“On you? I fucking love them,” he said roughly, carefully pulling his fingers from her still softly pulsing flesh. She wanted to protest, wanted to keep him inside her, a part of her, but the words quickly caught in her throat when she saw him lifting his hand. Her jaw dropped as he put his drenched fingers in his mouth, a visceral, breathtaking look of hunger on his rugged face. Then he sucked on them, taking in every bit of her taste, before slowly pulling them out. “You’re so damn sweet,” he growled, exploding into movement as he gripped the sides of her panties, wrenching them down. But they’d only just cleared her knees when there was a loud knock on her front door.

“Oh, God,” she said hoarsely, her voice still wrecked from screaming. “That’s going to be the repair guy, isn’t it?”

He nodded as he took a harsh breath, looking as though he was bracing himself for something painful as he straightened. Reaching down, he grimaced as he rearranged himself in his jeans. “He has the worst timing in the world,” he ground out, still staring between her legs. “I wanted to get my mouth on you. I should have fucking tasted you last night when I had the chance.”

With a soft laugh, she drew her legs together. “It, um, won’t kill you to wait.”

“Feels like it,” he muttered, shoving both hands back through his hair.

It was probably unfair of her, considering he’d just given her such an awesome orgasm, but Reese couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “You’ll survive.”

“That’s debat—”

The ringing of his cell phone cut her off, the tone a rapid beat that repeated itself, and this time he didn’t ignore it. “Damn it, that’s our emergency signal. I need to take this.”

She sat up and pulled her cardigan across her chest, then smiled at herself. Her shot at modesty was a little ridiculous when her panties were still past her knees. “You take your call and I’ll get the door,” she said, wondering if there was a graceful way to hop off the table while pulling up her underwear.

He nodded, finally dragging his gaze back up to her face. “Put on some sweatpants before you go anywhere near that door. That shirt is too damn short.”

She gave him a jaunty salute. “Sure thing, officer.”

He laughed as he leaned in for another quick kiss, then turned and walked into the kitchen. She could hear Ben on his phone as she hopped down from the table, yanked up her panties, then quickly ran and pulled on some sweats. It didn’t take long to let in the repair guy, an older man named Frank who had an easy smile, and make sure there wasn’t anything that he needed. He got to work on clearing out the jagged pieces of glass that were left around the edges of the door frame, and she went back into the kitchen.

“Something’s come up at work,” Ben said, hooking his phone back onto his belt as he turned around to face her. “I’ve got to head in for a bit. But I wanted to ask if you’ll go to a beach party with me this afternoon. I should be back by one, but if I’m not, I could meet you there. I think it’s getting started around twelve thirty, just down the beach from us.”

“Is everything okay at work?” she asked, deliberately ignoring the bit about the party. After what had just happened between them, she needed some time to figure out what the heck she was doing. For a woman who had serious reservations about having a purely sexual fling, she seemed to be doing a pretty good job of it so far. “Did something happen?”

His face had that kind of closed expression that could only belong to a cop. “One of my deputies was patrolling the beach a little while ago and found a teenage girl. She was barely conscious, but it looks like she was beaten last night and then left behind one of the dunes, where she couldn’t easily be seen.”

“Ohmygod.” Reese covered her lips with her fingers. “Is she all right?”

“She’s at the county hospital. Chris, the deputy who found her, said she was banged up pretty badly. I need to get over there.”

Thoughts spinning, she ran her hands over her chilled arms. “Of course. I’ll walk you out.”

She started to move around him, but he caught her arm. “Reese?”

Distracted, she said, “Yeah?”

She could feel him waiting for her to lock her troubled gaze with his. “What’s going on, honey?”

She shook her head. “What do you mean?”

“You look scared to death,” he said with a frown.

“I’m fine. I just feel bad about what happened.”

He wasn’t any better at hiding his frustration than she was at hiding her fear. “You don’t tell the truth very often, do you?”

Her chin kicked up a notch. “I’m not a liar.”

His gaze got a little sharper. “You can trust me, Reese. You don’t need to keep things from me.”

Shaking her head again, she said, “Really, I’m okay. You need to go, Ben.”

He pulled her closer, one hand splayed at her lower back, while the other lifted to her face, brushing her hair back. “Not until you give me an answer about the party.”

“Oh . . . I uh—”

“Come on and just say yes. It’ll be fun. McNamara Clinic is throwing it, and they’re a good group of people. It’s where my friend Brit works as a therapist. There’ll be an open bar and a big crowd, so we won’t stick out. We can blend right in.”

“Um, wouldn’t I be intruding on your time with your friend?” she asked, hedging. She knew damn well that Ben would be the focus of attention for nearly every woman there, which just sounded . . . stressful.

“She’s my
friend
. Like a sister. And you wouldn’t be intruding on anything. She wants to meet you, and I want you there with me.”

“Well, that’s really nice of you, Ben. You’re being very, um, neighborly.”

He bit back a smile, but she could tell he was amused. “Call it what you like. Just say that you’ll come.”

Reese knew she’d be nervous if she went, but it was probably a better option than sitting at home and worrying herself sick over the idea that trouble might have followed her here. Ben Hudson in a pair of swim trunks had to be about the best distraction she could think of, and there was no denying how safe he made her feel. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

“You do that. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He released her and headed for the doorway, then stopped and turned back, looking a little guarded. “You’re not going to run off on me, are you?”

“Run off?”

His expression bordered on grim, but there was a touch of a grin on his incredible mouth. “Just remember that if you try to leave, I’ll track you down. So you might as well stay put.”

She almost snorted. “What? Are you going to handcuff me if I don’t?”

Something dangerous and male darkened his eyes. “You ever been handcuffed before, Reese?”

Realizing he wasn’t joking—that he
liked
the idea of handcuffing her during sex—she started breathing a little faster. “Are you really into that kind of thing?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth kicked up as he walked back to her, and she could just hear his voice over the hammering that had started in the sitting room, the jarring sound mirroring the hammering of her pulse. “Not usually, though I’m definitely eager to see your sweet little ass tied up and spread for me.” He must have read something in her expression, because he added, “I’m not a control-freak misogynist, like a lot of other assholes out there. And I definitely believe that women have a hell of a lot more brains than men. But when it comes to sex, I like to be the one in charge.”

She was about to tell him that he liked to be bossy when it came to
everything
, but he suddenly had both hands in her hair and was kissing her senseless again, his tongue thrusting against hers, driving her wild. She didn’t know how long the kiss lasted, minutes . . . hours . . . days, but when he pulled back, his voice was like gravel. “I
will
see you on the beach.”

Oh yeah, definitely bossy. “Ben, I’m—”

“Just be there, Reese. We’ll sort everything else out later.” Then he gave her another quick kiss, and left.

Reese stood in the middle of the kitchen, eyes closed, arms wrapped tight around herself. She refused to follow after him like a lovesick puppy, no matter how tempting it was. It took a little effort, but she finally cleared the sexual haze from her mind and got her thoughts focused on what she’d learned from Ben about the teenager who’d been attacked. Did the girl have anything to do with her? Or was it just coincidence? She was so uncertain about what to do, and the damn lust still messing with her head wasn’t helping.

“I’m just being paranoid,” she finally muttered under her breath, pouring two cups of coffee. She took one mug to Frank, then headed back to her bedroom to get dressed and unpack some more boxes. She was still working through the first box when she heard the sound of Ben’s truck starting up, and listened as he drove away. Her cell phone buzzed a moment later, signaling a text message, and she lunged for it, wondering if it would be from Ben. As she swiped her finger over the screen to pull up the message, she realized how stupid she was being. Ben didn’t have her number. It was probably her sister, wanting to know how the morning had gone. Or even her mom. But as the text popped up on her screen, Reese realized it was from neither. The number was blocked, and there were only five little words staring back at her, chilling her blood.