Tainted Love (Book 1) (36 page)

I’d like to continue fooling myself, but I am in so deep, it will be hard to leave or to have him leave me. Drifting off to sleep after that horrible dream I resolved that I had to try being a bet
ter girlfriend, a better person. That would mean opening up to him, a scary enough thought in itself.

I untangle myself from the warmth of his body, careful not to wake him.
Taking the time to watch him while he sleeps, I study his sleeping face. Even in the throes of slumber he is a force, but I see a softness in his features that shows me that there is something tender in this beastly man.

I want him to wake up. Now. I’m tired of being awake by myself. Rocking my own naked body into him, his eyes flutter open. Ben snuggles into my breasts and inhales deeply. He stretches his limbs out lazily then mashes me to him in a bear-like embrace.

“Good morning,” he says, a broad smile coloring his face.

“Good morning, handsome,” I murmur, running a finger down his cheek. “How did you sleep?”

“I always sleep well when I’m with you.”

My eyebrows shoot up at his revelation. “You don’t normally?”

Ben sighs then says, “Let’s just say I don’t usually sleep through the night.”

“Well in a humungous house like that, I would be scared too,” I joke, shoving his shoulders.
He really does have a huge house.

“Never scared, my sweet girl.” He cups my chin and kisses it. “I’ve got a great security team that guarantee
s my safety. I pay them very well for it,” he says rather matter-of-factly, tapping my nose with a long finger.

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes at him. “What are you doing with such a big house anyway? You’re the only one in it.”

“Not when you’re there,” he murmurs, kissing my neck.

“Don’t deflect, Ben. Answer me,” I urge, trying to stand strong against his seduction…and failing, but standing my ground anyway.

He exhales then turns on his back. “I’ve never really liked the whole apartment or penthouse suite thing. I’ve always wanted a house…a home, plus, I don’t like bumping into people. I like my privacy.”

“Well, you’re here with me now,” I point out. “And I live with my roommate…in an apartment complex where y
ou always “bump into people”, so I don’t see your point.”

“I’m here with you. Nothing else matters when I’m w
ith you,” he answers, staring at me with a look that has my heart swelling with emotion.

The butterflies that flutter in my stomach at
his words send a shiver of happiness through me and I can’t help but smile. I kiss him sweetly, running my hand through his soft, thick tresses. Breaking the kiss off, I smile as Ben leans in searching for my lips. I smile even wider at his responding scowl when he doesn’t find them. He opens his eyes and I see the flare of passion in them. Thrusting his hips into me, I feel his warm, rigid length pulsing against my thigh.

My
sex clenches and begins to moisten with anticipation, but, first thing’s first.

“You didn’t finish last night,” I say, breaking the moment.

Ben stares at me uncertainly. “I thought we did. Didn’t you like what we did last night?”

“No, not that. I loved
that
,” I answer, referring to our night of slow, passionate, lovemaking.

“Then
, what?” He raises an eyebrow at me, inching away to appraise me.

I take a deep breath before answering, “Your punishment…you didn’t finish.”

“That’s fine,” he says, brushing it off.

“No, Ben. I deserve it. Sh
ush,” I quiet him when he opens his mouth to protest. He glares at me and I gulp my attitude back down.
No topping from the bottom.

“Please, let me finish?” I request.

He widens his eyes at me, a crease forming at his brows as he continues to frown at me. Visibly relaxing, Ben allows me to say my piece, giving me a permissive nod.

“The way I behaved yesterday was appalling, childish,” I admit
and I sit up facing him and he does the same, facing me.

“Continue,” he bids.

“You told me you had a meeting. You were busy and I should’ve respected that, but I…well let’s say that somewhere in my subconscious, I thought that if I threw a stupid fit I could get my way. I got what I wanted. I got fucked
real good
.” In an elevator no less.
How hot was that?

I shudder with remembered pleasure then continue my
confession, “But it was all at your expense. You were late for your meeting. I wasn’t thinking. You could’ve been fired because of my immature stunt and I’m sorry. So based on that, I think I deserve to be punished.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Sullivan,” he says hoarsely.

“I know exactly what I’m asking for, Ben, and I know you need it,” I respond, laying a reassuring hand on his.

“I don’t…I don’t think you know who I am, Sullivan,” Ben says, his voice quavering. “I’ve been trying not to let you see that man, but you continually stoke that side of me. When you anger me, when you allow me to do things like that…” he gestures at the chair I was bound to the night before. “That side of me, that dark side of me threatens to break through this shell you see and I don’t…”

“Shh…” I place two fingers on his lips to quiet him. “I know who you are, Ben. I saw it from the first time I saw you.”

“I know you did,” he whispers against my fingers then kisses them, sending a chill up my spine. If he continues to do things like that I’m going to jump his bones.

“Ben, that’s what I want. I want you…and all that makes you who you are. Give me that, Ben. Give me all of you,” I request.

“Ditto,” he murmurs, covering my lips with his in a storm of emotion, just before he rocks my morning with some mind-blowing sex.

I know it is a plea from him, to get to know me deeper, and I’m going to try. There are some things, though, that I just don’t know if I could ever reveal to him.

I am restless all day in my classes. I can’t concentrate, what with Ben telling me that he would continue the rest of my punishment at his home. Anxiety has been racking my body, my thoughts; every thought of our sex-filled morning and his threat of punishment is making me blush. Thank God no one notices the big smile plastered across my face right now as I take notes in my Psych class. I don’t even remember the name of the class; this Ben cloud has billowed in and isn’t clearing up anytime soon. And I can’t say I want it to.

This man is changing me and as much as my brain keeps putting up resistance, knowing I am bad for him, a small part of my heart – the only piece left – is telling me to throw caution to the wind and enjoy this; to make it last. But I don’t know if it ever could.

“So, class, let me ask you this,” Professor Thurgood begins. Marina Thurgood has been one of my main psychology professors since I’ve been here. The woman knows her stuff, but beyond that, she desires for us to know our stuff as well.

“At the advent of your studies, we had a very spirited discussion about nature versus nurture and what has more of an impact on socialization and the development of one’s psyche. For those of who had an opinion, do you share the same position now that you are on your final lap of studies?” she asks, leaning against her desk with ankles crossed. Her white linen pants fit her perfectly and her coral, cowl neck sweater brings out her complexion in vibrant ways. If ever I decide to become a lecturer, she would be my role model.

Raising my hand above the noisy conversation that her question starts, I decide to answer.

“Yes, Miss Beal,” she acknowledges.

The class quietens, some of the sorority girls scowling at me as if I stole their man. I probably have, but that’s beside the point.

“Professor Thurgood, in the beginning I thought very much it was nature that shaped a child’s life,” I begin, doing a mental recollection of what I call a life. “Looking at my own childhood, my own life, I thought it had to be true.” How else would one explain my continued fuck ups and bad decisions?
I am my mother’s child
, I’d often think. It was Fiona showing herself strong in my life in those times. Now, though, I am beginning to think differently.

When I look at all I’ve got now, the friendships, my parents, my childhood because of their involvement in my life and their unconditional love, I have to disagree with my initial stance.

“Now, I have to say that I was wrong.”
Unequivocally so.

“You see, it can’t just be nature –
one’s biological makeup – that influences development. It has to be both. Both one’s nature and external factors help to shape who children grow up to be,” I explain. “I am a living testimony to this theory. If it was just for nature I’d probably be in jail or worse.”

“Not too late,” I hear one of the sorority bitches mutter behind me. Her legion of heifers snickers at her vapid comment and I roll my eyes.

“Not too late to get an A either, Lauren. There’s hope,” I retort. The class breaks out into hysterics; even Professor Thurgood snickers but schools her facial features quickly.

“As I’d been saying,” I say, winning. That’ll shut her up. “It can’t be one thing that shapes us; it has to be a variety of things, situations, experiences that shape us. I mean, look at Lauren, she couldn’t shape that nose all on her own.” A low blow, but well worth the punch.

The class starts laughing again and I hear Lauren choking back a scream. I smile in victory and get a nod of approval from Professor Thurgood for my answer.

“Very good, Miss Beal,” she commends. “Does anyone else share Miss Beal’s view?”

The class raises their hands around me, but I am too proud of myself to actually pay attention or engage in any further debate. When I look at where I have been and where I am now, I am looking at two different people. I was Little Redd as a child and now I am no longer identified by that wretched name. I am Delilah now – or Sullivan to those who don’t know the truth – I have worked hard to be where I am now, past hidden. I am broken, but the cracks are so hidden that you have to look deep to find them. I might never be whole, but I can pretend to be.

Conversation ensues around me as a lone tear seeps from the right corner of my eye. I might be hiding who I really am, but this is the best me I’ve been in about four years. I intend to keep growing if I can, but self-sabotage is never far from my door.

My day finishes at three and, like a giddy school girl, I quickly pack my things and rush out of the room, excitement threatening to make me burst into tiny rainbows. Descending the steps from the psychology department, I find Simon waiting for me.

He opens the door and tips his hat to me, “Miss Beal.”

“I thought we agreed to call me Sullivan when Mr. Hayes isn’t around?” I say, smiling at him and slipping into the car as he opens the door for me.

“Yes, we did.” He smiles back, closing the door when I’m comfortably seated. Sitting in the driver’s seat, he buckles himself in then asks, “Would you like to hear some music, Sullivan?”

“Hip hop,” I answer, feeling very hyped up.

Simon shoots me wry smile then says, “As you wish.”

The speakers come to life and Drake’s
Best I Ever Had
flows, surreptitiously I think. I smile, concurring with the lyrics. Ben has been the best I’ve ever had that’s for sure.

“Oh,” Simon utters, turning the music down a bit. “I almost forgot.” He hands me an envelope. “Mr. Hayes asked me to give
this to you.”

I ta
ke the envelope and rip it open and a key slides onto my lap. I assume it’s for Ben’s house. There is also a card in the envelope and I take it out, smiling gleefully as I read.

Make yourself at home, please. But when I get home, I want you kneeling in the outfit that I bought for you that’s resting on my bed.

I press the note to my lips as butterflies assault my belly and my panties soak with my juices. Even in a letter, his commanding presence permeates and renders me pliant.

I set the note
back inside the torn envelope and clutch it tightly in my palm. This man makes me feel anticipation like no other. Simon turns the music back up and we set off to Ben’s house, with me smiling like the Cheshire Cat.