Kiss a Stranger (8 page)

But I only fo
und myself gripping him tighter and fighting back the tears that surfaced behind my eyes as he continued to move into me. His breaths turned to pants as his thrusts quickened. He gripped my ass above the mattress and sent sharper, harder thrusts into me. He groaned at this, pulling my lower body a few inches up so it was elevated. His thrusts went deeper this way and I shook suddenly at the pleasure that I was edging toward.

How did he get me there so fast?

I moaned loudly as I began to approach the crest.

“That’s it, lovely,” he growled. “
You feel incredible. The way you’re hugging my cock right now, it’s killing me.”

I dug my nails into his skin and frantically kissed him. It was more breath than kiss, though.

“That’s it,” he repeated. “Get yourself there.”

I trembled and cried out.
Oh, the pleasure. On and on it went. On and on
he
went. It built and built and…

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
“Oh, my God.”

             
The orgasm that rocked my body was sudden and bittersweet. It stretched on, a buzz that seemed to flow as fast as my bloodstream. I shook and rode it out as Ben gripped me tight and followed with his own release. Eyes still locked with mine, he grunted against my mouth. I felt his cock jerk inside of me, and his body quaked as he came.

For a split second his walls w
ent down, and I saw a vulnerability in him. I felt his melancholy before he panted and buried his face into my neck, as though he didn’t want me to see.

             
The minutes that followed were silent as a grave. I felt the pounding of both our hearts against each other’s pressed chests, and I wrapped my arms around him. I held him close, and stared up into the darkness. I found myself asking the same question over and over again.

             
What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Chapter Seven
I’m very picky

He moved off of me. For a split second I expected him to get out of bed and start to get ready to leave. That had been my reality when I’d started bedding men: screwing someone and getting out of there minutes after it ended. Like a quota that had been filled, you were of no more use.

             
I watched Ben closely as he ran a hand through his hair and rested on his back. He was still catching his breath when his arm reached out and found me. To my astonishment, he pulled me to him, until I had my head over his chest and my front body against his side. We were sweaty and we smelled of sex, but beneath all that I still caught the whiff of his unique scent.

             
I relaxed after a tense few moments. He absently ran his fingers up and down my spine, and I couldn’t help but feel like one of the many heroines I read about in my books. The way they felt safe and warm in the hero’s arms, I understood that feeling now. Ben was the first guy that bothered to bring me close after he got what he wanted. But unlike the other guys that came and went, he’d looked after my needs too.

I felt cherished.

              “Why’d you ask me how long it’d been since I’d been with someone?” I wondered out loud, breaking the silence.

             
His fingers paused at my lower back. “Because I didn’t want to be another number to you,” he answered bluntly.

             
“You? A number?” I nearly laughed.

             
“Why is that so funny?”

             
“Because you can be with anyone. If anything, I’m the number.”

             
He chuckled dryly. “Then you’re a very low number because I don’t have sex with just anybody, little lady. I’m very picky.”

             
I smiled discreetly. What had I done right to be chosen? I hated having all these questions in my head. I was not the type of girl that liked to stew on shit or misconstrue it. So I simply asked him, “Why did you decide on me right now? I don’t understand.”

             
He looked down at me with knitted brows. “And I don’t understand why you find that so shocking.”

             
I shrugged, not meeting his eye. “Well, you just showed up out of nowhere and you tell me you want me… and I don’t get it.”

             
“I’m very attracted to you.”

             
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and slam my head against the wall. How many ways did I have to ask him why he’d suddenly appeared in my life? He didn’t strike me as the type that wanted to just bed me and move on. No, he
wanted
me. And I needed to know why!

             
“Have I taken advantage of you?” he asked.

             
“No.”

             
“I know I should have slowed down, but I couldn’t help myself.”

             
“Neither could I.” I inhaled sharply and closed my eyes. God, this warmth was addictive. “I’ve never been like this with someone before.”

             
“Like what?”

             
“Like
this
.”

             
“Never?”

             
I shook my head slightly and continued to relax. I listened to his heartbeats, and it soothed me. Nine months of rainy days and the sun finally came out. Whether this was just a fleeting moment of happiness or not was irrelevant. The point was I could feel again, and that gave me hope.

             
He resumed stroking me, and, like a child, I wrapped my arm around him and clung to him like he was my lifeline. It felt good, yet my heart was acting funny. While it felt like it was soaring, it also squeezed as though it’d been wound up tight by a thread. That thread was tugging, and with every tug it felt painful.

Is this what likeness was? I’d never truly experienced it before. I’d been attracted to men, sure, but never gotten close enough emotionally to truly
like
them.

             
And to think, I used to hate the heroines in my books for turning into spineless goo around a man. If this was just a tenth of what they felt, then I was in deep shit.

Because at this rate, I was becoming one of them.

*****

It wasn’t dreaming that brought me back to that
horrid event every morning. It was the feeling of waking up. The one thing that stayed with me – imprinted into my soul like a tattoo – was the fear I felt when I woke up.

It was a fear that churned my stomach and made my heart race. It made my skin break out in sweat and my body tremble. The fear of being hurt, of confronting what I’d done – the lives I’d ruined because of my actions – that was what came crashing down on me every morning.

I opened my mouth just as the panic swept it. Like a machine, I stepped back into the usual dreaded routine that occupied me most mornings. Jumping out of bed, I raced out of my bedroom. Nearly tripping over my feet, I made it just in time to hunch over the toilet and throw up.

N
othing came up. I wrapped my arm around my sore stomach and dry heaved over and over again. Until hot tears started falling down my face, reminding me of my pathetic weakness.

I’m vile. So fucking vile.

I nearly startled out of my skin when a hand touched my shoulder.

And then reality came crashing down like a wall of bricks.
I remembered last night. The club. My stranger. The sex. And then I realized what I was wearing. Or lack thereof.

I’m naked.
I’m naked because I had sex with a man.
A man I barely know.
And he’s watching me right now.
Naked.
Throwing up.
Ah, fuckity-fuck times a million fucks.

“Are you alright?” Ben
asked, and then he added just as quickly, “Stupid question, actually. You clearly aren’t. Let me put your hair up –”

“No, go!” I interrupted him after a violent heave.

“I can’t leave you like this –”

“Please, I’m sick!”
And very naked.

He didn’t go. Instead, he brought the hair that had splayed across my face back behind my ears. I heaved some more and cried out, “Please go. I’m naked, Ben, please.”

“So am I. Nothing to hide here.”

Fuck, he really wasn’t going to go away.
And I just
had
to peek at him to learn that he was, indeed, naked. My goodness, even in my sick state I had to admire this body. Under the light, every muscle was all the more pronounced, making me glad I hadn’t conjured up last night’s version of him in the dark.

He settled down behind me, his heat against my back. His hand moved up and down my spine as I cried into the toilet like
a child. To boot, he was comforting me, like I was made of fucking glass and on the verge of shattering. I didn’t deserve to be comforted, and yet I was torn because I didn’t want him to stop.

After several minutes of this
unbearable humiliation, I flushed the toilet and wiped my mouth with a wad of toilet paper.

“Are you feel
ing better?” he asked me.

No.
“Yeah.”

“Was it something you ate? Because I don’t remember tasting alcohol on your tongue when I kissed you.”
God, only
he
could make that sound erotic.

“I don’t drink
anymore,” I stated vacantly.

It was only after a while of tense quiet that I realized I hadn’
t answered his question.

“
Must have been the food,” I mumbled.

“Hmm
. And you’re feeling better now?”

“Yeah.” The feeling of sickness eased away
significantly.

“A nice hot shower might help you some more
.”

He let go of my hair and stood
up. Opening the shower stall door, he turned the water on. He adjusted the water with a hand under it until he was satisfied with the temperature. Then he turned to me and offered his hand.

I took it and
he pulled me up swiftly. He grabbed the toilet paper from my other hand and tossed it into the toilet.

“Alright,” he said,
motioning to the stall, “in we go.”

I stepped in and waited for him to follow, but he stood by the bathroom door and peered out questionably.

“Is there anyone else in this house at the moment?” he asked. “I didn’t hear anyone coming in during the night.”

“No,” I answered. “
My mom’s in Melbourne.”

He nodded and
shut the door. He stepped into the shower and I moved back to make room for him. He looked so casual about this, moving under the spray to soak himself. It was like one of those commercials: main focal point his drenched upper body, water cascading down the face in slow motion, him shaking his head and running his hands through his hair.

I fucked that
, I smiled to myself. Yep, and I was proud. I’d high five myself if it didn’t make me look creepy. I’d just have to reserve it for Emily.

             
“The shampoos are all… girly,” I said as he grabbed one off the rack.

             
He smirked at me. “As much as I want to smell like Cherry Blossom, this is for you, not me. So turn around.”

             
“You’re going to wash my hair?”

             
“No, I’m going to wash that plump little ass with Cherry Blossom shampoo.”

             
He chuckled and I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm, turning my back to him. He wrapped an arm just under my breasts and pulled me closer to him. My breath hitched and my core clenched when I felt his mouth lightly licking a path down my shoulder.

             
“It’s like touching a metal rod,” he muttered in my ear. “Loosen up a bit, beauty. No need to be shy now.”

Easy for him to say. This wa
s yet another first with a man.

I stood still as he ran his hands through my hair.
He soaked it thoroughly before he squeezed the shampoo into the long strands. He handed me my toothbrush and toothpaste while he massaged my scalp in the most relaxing way.

With my eyes closed,
I brushed the nasty taste in my mouth away, welcoming the cool mint on my tongue. There was no better feeling than a clean mouth… except Ben’s hands on your body, of course.

I rinsed the toothbrush and said, “There’s a spare one in the cupboard if you want me to grab it. Just in ca
se you want to brush your teeth too.”

“I have a better idea,” he replied.

After he rinsed my hair, he turned me around and took my finger. I raised a brow at him as last night’s memory of where this finger had been flashed through me. As if reading my mind, the corner of his mouth quirked up. Yeah, we were totally thinking about the same thing.

He pushed out a bit of toothpaste over the tip of my finger and brought it to his mouth.

I giggled –
fucking giggled
– when he started using it as a toothbrush. He rubbed the pad of my finger up and down his front teeth, looking hilariously serious down at me with a twinkle in his eye.

“You’ve got perfect teeth,” I remarked as he then rubbed my finger against his tongue. I laughed nonstop, and it suddenly occurred to me that he was most likely doing thi
s to loosen me up. It was working.

“So do you,” he replied, running the thumb of his free hand along my lower lip. “Beautiful smile.”

“No, my teeth aren’t perfect,” I rebutted. They were far from
perfect. My lateral incisors clashed with my squared front teeth, making them appear pointed and far from straight. I used to get told the way they looked when I smiled was “charming.” In other words,
you look goofy, but it strangely suits you.

He took my f
inger out and rinsed his mouth before giving me a wide grin.

Feeling comfortable and in the moment, I reacted out of impulsive and
brought my arms up and around his neck. I pressed my chest against his and stared up at him. He didn’t look surprised by my abrupt move, instantly embracing it. An arm went around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I was fully under the spray with him when he brought his face down to mine and kissed me.

“You have sexy lips,” he murmured, flicking his tongue along them. “They beg to be ravaged.”

“So ravage them,” I told him with a smile.

He did.
God, he kissed me like it meant something to him. Either I did in a short amount of time (unlikely), or he was just a phenomenal kisser (most likely).

It was only seconds later w
hen I felt him hardening. It was hard to believe I was really doing this to him. I loved it. I felt so desired and sexy.