Dirty Little Lies (Dirty Little #2) (8 page)

His body stiffens, and he pulses inside of me with a long, low groan.
 

As we come down from our highs, breathing heavily, we both hang onto each other for dear life. In my blissed-out, hopeful, post-orgasmic haze, I find myself hoping like hell that everything he’s been telling me is true.
 

I think I’m too far gone now to keep pushing him away.
 

I’m not sure I want to anymore.
 

I wake up to the gentle tickle of Ben running his finger up and down my side, a pillow crushed under his arm, and he’s cradling his head in his hand as he sleepily grins down at me.
 

“Hi,” he says, his voice all sexy and morning-rough.
 

“Hi.” I reply with a smile that I can’t seem to help, and I brace my hands against the headboard, stretching out my tired muscles. They ache in the best way, from the best kind of overuse.
 

After once in the foyer, we made it to the steps before the next round, and then tested out the sturdiness off my bed and dresser a couple of times. It was mind-blowingly amazing. Like, better than it had ever been between us.
 

So, I’m happy, and feeling a little bit dazed this morning.
 

“I’m thinking about pancakes,” Ben says, his fingers still moving, finding their way along the curve of my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple.
 

I let out a surprised laugh, and pretend like I’m offended (I’m just a little offended). “You’ve got your hand on my breast, and you’re thinking about pancakes?”
 

His eyes widen in unbridled panic, and unfortunately for me, he removes his hand from where it was, stopping the very pleasant ministrations in the process.
 

“No! I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just…”
 

As he’s in the middle of his explanation, his stomach rumbles, loud and clear.
 

Ben slides his hand along the underside of my breast now, and gives me a sly grin. “What I meant was that I worked up quite the appetite last night-”

“And this morning,” I interrupt.
 

“Yeah.” His thumb cuts across my nipple again, and I let out a soft little gasp. “And I was thinking about refueling with some pancakes.”
 

Last night I took a step that I had been fighting for weeks, and now the two of us are in bed together on a Sunday morning, like we’re a couple again, no cares in the world.

I’ve spent so long thinking that this couldn’t happen again, swearing that I wouldn’t
let
it happen again, that it almost feels impossible that Ben’s here in bed with me, sharing this quiet intimacy as we tease each other about what we’re going to have for breakfast.

Here, in the warm light of the early morning, so many things seem possible.

I just hope I won’t wind up regretting this.
 

“I didn’t come home with you to have sex with you. Just so you know.”
 

I raise my brow, trying to look serious despite that pretty amazing thing he’s doing with his hand. “Is that particularly important now? After all the sex we had, I mean.”
 

“It’s incredibly important,” he says solemnly. “I just don’t want you to think that, I don’t know…that I took advantage of you.”
 

It’s almost unnerving to see him being so bashful now, but it’s endearing as well. “I remember being a pretty enthusiastic participant. Multiple times.”
 

He nods, and his stubble scratches against my forehead. “Yeah. I just wanted to make sure.”
 

“Four orgasms later, you have one very satisfied customer.”
 

Ben laughs, and the short huff of air blows a piece of hair across my forehead. It tickles, but I don’t dare move. Lying here with him like this is perfect, I don’t want to disturb it. But, I
am
curious.
 

“If you didn’t come over here for sex,” I say, sliding my hand across his broad, ridiculously muscled shoulder, “what did you come over here for?”
 

With an innocent shrug, Ben says, “You asked me to come up, and I just wanted to spend more time with you.”
 

It’s a good thing I’m lying down, because this man knows how make a girl a little weak in the knees. It’s not exactly a new thing, the pillow talk. He’s always been fairly good at seducing me, even back when he was a constant cheat. He can mess up a relationship for sure, but he also knows the right thing to say to get me going again. It can be a little unnerving to hear these things when I don’t totally trust him, but I believe what he’s telling me.
 

I know he’s being sincere.
 

“I’m glad you did.”
 

I can practically see the spark of hope that lights up his eyes. “Really?”
 

I nod.
 

“Is that you or your orgasms talking?”
 

A delighted laugh makes its way out of me. “Both?”
 

With a smile, Ben says, “I’ll take it.”
 

“There is one thing that I need to say, though.”
 

Ben inhales a long, unsteady breath. “Okay.”
 

I take his hand, so he doesn’t think I’m about to drop a bomb on him, or break his heart or something. “If we’re going to do this, if I agree to give you another chance…Ben, I swear to god if I catch you cheating on me again, I’ll…” I can’t even finish the thought. “I’m doing this against my better judgment, but I want to give you another chance. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, that you’ve changed and you’re a better person, and can be a better boyfriend than you were before. Please don’t make me regret that decision.”
 

He cups my face in his hands, his eyes earnest as he leans down and gives me a soft kiss. “I won’t make you regret it, I promise. I know my promises didn’t mean much before, but they mean something now. You won’t regret this.”
 

“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay.”
 

He kisses me again, all slow and tender, and my mind gets going again, distracting me. I just have to say one more thing before we can move on.
 

“I do have a condition, though.”
 

He nods without an ounce of hesitation. “Anything.”
 

“I lose all sense of reason whenever I’m around you. It’s like my brain is a lust-filled pile of mush. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it the right way.”
 

He looks a little confused.

“I need to enter into this relationship with a level head. And the only way I can do that is if we take it slow. Be…I don’t know, old-fashioned.”
 

Ben’s eyebrows scrunch together adorably. “What’s old-fashioned?”
 

“You’re going to take me on a date, and if I have a good time on that date, then you can ask me for another one.”
 

“You…you want me to woo you?” Ben seems amused and…intrigued.

“Yes,” I say shyly, even though I’m the one who brought up this whole thing.
 

“Okay. I will absolutely woo you. Consider it done. Is that it?”
 

“No.” I slide my hand across his pec, relishing in the feel of it one last time…for a while. “There’s another part, and you’re not going to like that other part.”
 

“What part is that?”
 

“The part where you’re going to woo me, and while you’re wooing me, we’re not going to have sex. You’re going to have to work for it.” Taking sex off of the table is crazy, but it’s the only way I know I can keep a level head here. I
need
to keep a level head for a little while.
 

“Okay,” he says reluctantly. “On two conditions.”
 

I’m interested. “What are those conditions?”
 

“I’d like our first date to be this morning. I’ll take you to that diner down on Broadway that you like, and we’ll get pancakes and bacon, and two carafes of that orange juice.”
 

I enthusiastically agree to that condition. “Done. What’s the other one?”
 

With a sly grin, Ben’s hand slides down my belly, and between my thighs. He swipes his fingers along my slit, circling my clit with his thumb. It’s like a power button for my whole body. Every part of me wakes up. Without giving it much thought, acting purely on instinct, I buck my hips against his hand.
 

“One more time. That’s my second condition.”
 

He’s giving me this intense look, like all he wants is to live in this moment just a little while longer, like everything in his world is hinging on my answer. I gently push him until he’s on his back, and I bring myself up on my knees, then straddle his hips. I grind down on him, making his back arch off the bed, his breath coming in short puffs. His hands reach up to cradle my breasts.
 

I’m already
loving
this condition.
 

“Okay,” I say. “One more time.” I scrape my fingernails across his abs, making his muscles flex and tighten. “But you better put your back into it.”
 

At a diner that’s not too far away from my apartment, Ben and I are sitting across from each other at a small circular table, a carafe of orange juice between us, and half-eaten stacks of pancakes on both of our plates.
 

The fingers on my left hand are laced together with the fingers on his right, and we’re leaning toward each other like a couple of magnets, even while we’re eating. Ben reached out to take my hand when we first sat down, and we haven’t let go since. I was hesitant at first, but when he looked at me with those eyes that always manage to make me feel a little weak in the knees, I couldn’t help but oblige him.
 

Ben runs the pad of his thumb over my knuckles, back and forth, and the sensation is endlessly soothing.
 

“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?” he asks, as he reaches for his glass of juice.
 

I close my eyes for a second, mentally running through all of the appointments that I know are filling up my calendar, even though it’s a weekend.
 

“I have a conference call with a designer in Paris who wants to use my site to launch a new line. After that, I have a meeting with some developers who are hopefully going to get to work on some new features that I want to add to the navigation bar.”
 

Ben squeezes my hand. “I can do that for you, you know. For free.”
 

I’m not worried about the money, and the gesture is sweet, but I can’t take him up on his offer. It’s a bad idea on pretty much every level. Instead of flat-out turning him down, I decide to go with another argument first.
 

“You’re a software engineer, not a web developer,” I say, as I slide the tines of my fork through a puddle of syrup, swiping it across my plate into what I think is a pretty elegant design. I need to do whatever I can to avoid the look in his eyes when he starts to convince me that I should let him do the work for me anyway.
 

“I can do both,” he says.
 

Yeah, I didn’t think that argument was going to work for me, but it was worth a try anyway. I take a deep breath, and give myself a moment to figure out a way to frame this argument that isn’t going to make him fight me against it more, and isn’t going to hurt his feelings.
 

“I…I would prefer to keep my business life and my personal life separate.” I’ve got a great team of developers that I have a great relationship with, and I don’t want to chance burning those bridges just so I can start relying on Ben for something that will be taken away if things don’t work out between us this go ‘round. I’m hoping this short answer is enough, so I won’t have to explain myself.
 

He nods reluctantly. “I get it. But if you ever need a quick fix and can’t get them on the phone for whatever reason, I’m always here for you.”
 

I can’t help but smile at him. “I know.” I believe him now, whether or not I should.
 

“So,” I say, because even though he relented, he still sounds disappointed, and I don’t like hearing that tone in his voice. Especially not when I’m the one who put it there. “This has been a pretty good date thus far.”
 

He gives me a thoughtful look. “I’m not sure that I want this to be a first date.”
 

I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”
 

Ben shrugs. “Even though we had a ton of shitty memories from our previous…”
 

“Tries?” I offer.
 

“Okay, tries. Even though we had some bad memories from those, we had some really good ones. Memories that I don’t want wiped away just because we’re trying to start over.”