Tainted Love (Book 1) (40 page)

I lead him upstairs to the main bedroom where I slowly undress him, brushing my lips over his toned chest. In the bathroom, he is amazed to see a similar setup to which he had for me the day before. Instead of rose petals though, froths of fragrant, soothing soap decorate the top of the bathtub. Guiding him into the tub, I wash his body appreciatively, reaching down and cleansing his hardened cock. I swear the slightest touch can turn this man on.

A chuckle escapes my lips and he looks up at me all wicked and wanting. He grinds in my palms and I swat his balls,
tsk
ing at him. He groans and throws his head back in frustration and I giggle, enjoying having the upper hand for once.

Drying him off, I hum the tune of
Promise
by Ciara. Then an overwhelming sadness unfurls inside me at the words.

I promise that I will never lie to you, boy.

I really hate lying to him about who I am. I want to tell him the truth, the whole truth about me, but I’m just so scared that he’ll walk away from me.

Cupping my chin, Ben studies me. “What’s wrong?” I forgot about his eerie way of knowing when something is wrong with me.

“Nothing. Just really grateful for you is all.” Well, it’s half true. I really am grateful to have him in my life. I’m fucking in love with him; not that I’d ever admit it to him. Simply admitting that shit to myself is a big enough step as it is.

“So, all this…” he gestures at me toweling him down, “is just gratitude?”

“You say “just gratitude” like it’s a bad thing,” I snort, swatting him on his very firm ass, sending him jumping forward in surprise.

“It’s not bad,” he says, grabbing me to him and rubbing his rapidly growing erection against me. “I love the attention,” he continues, nipping my earlobe then sucking it between his teeth. This sends dark, carnal signals to my sex and up to my breasts where my nipples bead into taut peaks.

Oh, he knows how to make me weak, but I am not going to give in. No. Not this time. Not when I have such delightful plans.

“Let’s eat first and fuck later.”

“How about I do both right now?” he murmurs huskily and I feel his erection poking me and I desperately want to ride him like the stallion he is, but I have to be strong.

I kiss him and wait until his hands loosen before I make a break for it. “Get dressed and come eat,” I order from the doorway.

He growls, pouncing after me, but I hurry away knowing he wouldn’t possibly follow me stark naked and super horny. At least, I hoped he wouldn’t.

We sit eating the tasty meal Vivian has prepared and Ben has barely said two words to me. He is being so petulant and pouty. Absolutely cute. He eats slowly, poking around his food which makes my plans easier to carry out.

I try to stifle my giggles as I watch Ben grumble under his breath about stubborn women trying to top. As soon as I finish my last sip of wine the giggles turn into full-blown uncontrollable laughter.

“You’re not being fair.” His voice is rough, but quite obviously a whine, which makes me laugh even harder.

“Oh, honey. All will become clear in due course. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” I pat him on the shoulder as I hop from the high chair.

“Dinner was scrumptious, Viv,” I compliment Vivian as I discard my plate in the sink.

“Viv?” Ben raises an eyebrow. “You two are friends now?” he huffs.

“Jealous?” I say, kissing his cheek then escaping his grasping hands. “I’m going to the bathroom.” I wink at Vivian as I retreat, hoping she can keep him side-tracked long enough for me to get everything in place.

Upstairs in the bedroom, I quickly set up the iPod dock and the video camera, so it captures the bed and as many areas around it as it can. I strip out of my clothes and slip into the V-neck red and black lace bustier with garters and red lace thong. The outfit boasts lace frills that make it look like an ultra-short skirt. I fasten the garters to the black sheer thigh-high stockings I put on and, rounding out the look, I step into the same red heels Ben had fucked me in the night we solidified our arrangement. That night seemed so long ago. Hard to believe that it was just last Monday.

Strutting over to the
iPod dock, I start playing my
Appreciation
playlist. I made the playlist while at work which consisted only of two Beyoncé songs. I wanted to show him just how much I appreciated him. Simply saying “I appreciate you” didn’t seem like enough for me, so I took Ben’s route, planning this grand gesture.

Turning the music up, with the remote, to a level where Ben would be able to hear it from downstairs,
Speechless
starts humming through the speakers.

I sit in the plush chair that I
’d moved to the glass doors, stretching a leg over one armrest, awaiting his arrival.

Ben lights the doorway and I see him draw in a heavy breath when he sees me. He stalks toward me and I halt him with a raised hand. I sashay toward him, chair dragging behind me, and I place it in front of him.

Turning the volume down, I command, “Sit.”

He raises his eyebrow at me, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Dominant as ever.

“Please,” I add with a smile.

Smiling and raking his gaze over my body, making me feel extremely desired, Ben plops down onto the chair. I disappear behind him and switch the camera on. Nerves hit against my bones as I face him once more. I am going to be doing something that I haven’t done in a while. Not only am I going to sing – the last person I sang for was Jared – but I am also going to give him an exotic dance.

Switching the song, the smooth tones of
Dance for you
begins, and before I know it, I’m singing. I am lost in this performance. Not because I love the song – I do – but because I am doing it for Ben.

In the middle of the song and the rather sensuous and tempting dance, Ben leaps from the chair in frustration and kisses me roughly, taking my breath away.

“You’re a dream,” he makes out softly, his voice cracking, before throwing me to the bed and taking me ravenously.

We lay in bed wrapped around each other, clawing our way impossibly closer – lips gliding over faces, shoulders, bodies. We are so spellbound by each other that it’s impossible to come down from our sexual high.

“Why?” Ben breathes. “Why all of this?”

“Because you make me want to appreciate you. You make me want to worship you,” I answer, almost to tears. I bite back the sudden urge to tell him that I love him, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip.

He caresses my cheek and something passes through his eyes. It scares me, it’s so powerful, too powerful for words. People have killed for someone to look at them the way Ben just looked at me. I bite down harder on my bottom lip to stave off the tears and those three words that threaten to surface.

Ben kisses me reverently and once again we’re lost. He makes sweet, s
teady love to me and I’m sated.

We’re
sated.

I am officially exhausted when Rachel and I sit down to eat dinner at Upper Deck, an intimate restaurant located on the rooftop terrace of an apartment building. Upper Deck boasts a beautiful view of the Philadelphia skyline. Tonight, it has no dash of color indicating sunset; no stars. Just dark clouds, like a storm is brewing.
Trouble,
my mind conjures. I shake off the thought, choosing to appreciate the towering buildings around me. One can’t help but be awed by them. Such power and prestige outlandishly wrapped up in high-rises. The only place to rival such buildings is New York and, in that case, there is no comparison. God, do I miss it there.

“What’s going on here?” Rachel asks when I try to cover a yawn, pointing her assessing index finger a
ll over my face.

I groan then answer, “Ben.”

She laughs loudly, causing heads to turn. “Sorry,” she apologizes, chastened. “Back to your meals everyone.”

“Don’t laugh, Rae. He’s got the stamina of a goddamn sixteen year old boy. He’s never tired, always inside me – even when he’s not around me. I swear, he’s going to give me a heart attack…or break my vagina,” I complain jokingly.

“He’s virile. All men his age are. You should be more worried that he’s
not
trying to get between your legs, that would mean he’s gay and I have a hard time picturing Ben taking it up the ass,” she says bluntly making me choke on the glass of water I am sipping.

“No,” I
splutter, clearing my throat. “Ben is definitely
not
gay.”

We order the roasted pork tenderloin with grilled potatoes and asparagus and a serving of macaroni and cheese. We eat until we were stuffed, chattering away as only best friends do.

“Damn it,” Rachel swears when she polishes off the last of her wine. “I’m gonna have to call Ryan up later to help me work off all this food.”

“
How is that going? You haven’t kicked him to the curb yet, so that must be something good, right?” I inquire.

“I’m happy, babe. Haven’t been in a while,” she answers, with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Are you, really?” I press, holding on to my best friend’s hand. I have to know that if things get even more serious between Ben and I, that I am leaving her in the best hands, despite my suspicions.

Rachel entwines her fingers with mine and gives them a squeeze. She really does look that and more when she says, wholeheartedly, “I am.”

I give her a happy smile, chucking my suspicions of Ryan. I look forward to getting to know him.

“He’s a great guy, Lilah. And he’s good to me.”

“He’d better be,” I mumble.

“I know you only want
what’s best for me.” Rachel reaches for my hand, squeezing it.

“I do, Rae. You’ve been the best to me even when I wasn’t the best to myself. You need that too and not just from me,” I voice.

“And I’m telling you, he’s the best guy for me, unlike your brother.” I cringe at that.

My bro
ther and Rachel’s on again, off again, why don’t you call me, don’t ever call me again, fuck when they see each other and hate each other when they don’t relationship drives me insane; but I always had hope that they would eventually get back together. Complicated doesn’t even begin to describe the kind of relationship they have. She hasn’t mentioned him in months, the longest she’s ever gone. I guess now I can give up on my best friend ever becoming my sister.

“Light years away from that prick Joey who cheated on me with that stupid bitch, C
ara, in high school,” she continues, obviously still cut up over Joey’s infidelity.

Glad to be off the subject of my brother, I latch on to Joey the prick. “When are you going to give that up, Rae?” I laugh.

“When he’s dead!” she expresses irritably. “I gave that asshole my virginity. The least he could’ve done was wait until the blood from my torn hymen dried up before he went and slept with that skank.”

“True,” I agree. “I hope he dies a painful, horrible death.” I raise my wine glass to her. “Death to assholes.”

She smiles and raises her glass as well. “Death to the Joey’s of the world.” We clink glasses then drain them.