Midnight Encounters Page 8

  Her brain went into overload trying to absorb all the delicious little details. Like his smooth, golden skin. And his rippled abs. And those firm, muscular thighs. And his…oh, gosh, his everything.

  “You’re letting the cold air in,” he complained.

  She swallowed, trying to regain her composure, then took a breath and stepped into the shower stall. The second she did, he shoved his hands on her bare hips, pulled her into the stream of water pouring from the showerhead and captured her lips with his.

  He gave her another one of those rough, drugging kisses, but this time she broke the contact before she could completely lose herself in his lips.

  “I don’t like being interrupted from my work,” she murmured, leaning on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his ear so he could hear her over the rush of water.

  He raised his brow, sending droplets of moisture down his aristocratic nose and into the thick stubble on his chin.

  “Okay. Should I apologize for stealing you away from your desk and making you come?”

  “No.” She ran her hand over his wet chest. One flat, brown nipple hardened beneath her fingers. “I’m just voicing my disapproval.”

  “So, what, you crashed my shower to punish me?” One side of his mouth lifted upwards in a crooked grin. His metallic blue eyes smoldered when he said the word “punish”.

  “Something like that.”

  She glided her hand down his chest and encircled his shaft.

  He inhaled, eyes widening then narrowing with arousal. Drops of water pooled over his upper lip and, feeling bold, Maggie leaned forward and licked the moisture off with her tongue. She met his gaze and offered a crooked grin of her own, then slid to her knees and took his cock in her mouth.

  This time his sharp intake of breath was followed by a low groan. His hands drifted down and tangled in her hair, which had matted against her forehead from the steam. She pushed a few wet strands out of her eyes and licked him from base to tip, enjoying his velvety texture and masculine taste.

  And, unlike Ben, she took her time teasing him. Tortured him with long languid strokes of her tongue and pulled back each time he tried to thrust deeper. She dragged her lips over his tip, sucking, kissing, stroking his balls with her palm.

  His husky moans and the feel of the hot water streaming over her breasts drove her crazy. She clamped her knees together and tried to focus on bringing him to the edge, until he tugged at her hair and she looked up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze.

  “Touch yourself,” he ordered, his words hissing through the steam filling the small space. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

  She swallowed back a whimper and nodded. Widening her knees, she pressed her fingers between her legs and took him in her mouth again. Going slow was no longer an option, not when she could feel Ben watching her as she rubbed her clit, not when she could feel his thick cock pulsing under her tongue.

  They came together, hard, fast. His semen filled her mouth and she swallowed every last drop, while her own orgasm sizzled her nerve endings, bringing with it a wave of pleasure that numbed every part of her body. With a ragged groan, Ben gently pushed her head back and sank to the floor of the tub, looking completely and thoroughly spent.

  As the water from above grew lukewarm, he reached out and brushed hair out of her eyes, then stroked one of her trembling thighs. “You okay?”

  She knew she must look like a drowned rat, still shaking from her climax and gasping for air, and she laughed at the concern she saw in his eyes. “I’m fine. Numb, but fine.”

  He grinned. “In case you’re wondering, I’m fine too.”

  She glanced down at his crotch. He still sported a rock-hard erection, and she was shocked to feel her nipples harden with desire. Again? She’d just experienced her second orgasm in twenty minutes and she was ready to go again?

  She wasn’t sure what made her jump to her feet, that startling realization or the sudden change of water temperature, which went from lukewarm to lukecold. Whatever the reason, she quickly tugged on the shower curtain and stumbled onto the fluffy pink bathroom mat.

  Ben called her name, but she ignored him.

  Two days, she realized as she wrapped a terrycloth robe around her wet body and hurried out of the washroom. Two days since she’d first met Ben Barrett, two days of allowing him to distract her to no end, and now two orgasms that still hadn’t managed to flush the man from her system.

  What was the matter with her?

  “What is the matter with you?” Ben sounded out of breath and annoyed as he marched into her bedroom a moment later wearing nothing but a towel.

  She tightened the sash of her robe and crossed her arms over the thick terrycloth. “Nothing is the matter.”

  “So you always sprint out of a room after sex?”

  “We didn’t have sex.”

  Laughter spurted from his throat. “We came pretty damn close. In fact, we came pretty damn fast.”

  Her cheeks burned. “But we didn’t cross the line.”

  A shadow floated across his face. “I wasn’t even aware there was a line.”

  “Well, there is.”

  She felt unbearably exposed, standing there in her bathrobe, the hardwood floor icy under her bare feet. And unbelievably confused, because her mouth kept saying words that made Ben frown and her body kept berating her for it.

  “So this line…” His frown turned into a scowl. “Is it the one that keeps you from having fun?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You crossed over from uptight land to fun world, and now you’re trying to convince yourself what we did was wrong.”

  He was right, she was trying to convince herself they’d done something wrong, but not for the reason he believed. It had nothing to do with being uptight and everything to do with the way he made her feel.

  Again, it all came down to distraction, and what happened when you let yourself get sidetracked by a man. She’d learned the hard way how easy it was for your life to be destroyed by a preoccupation with sex and relationships. Hell, her own mother had abandoned her because of a man, and though Maggie had no children of her own to abandon—which she would never do—she wasn’t going to abandon the path she’d set up for herself. She wouldn’t desert her goals and her dreams for a man. Even one who made her entire body tremble from one penetrating gaze.

  “You think I’m uptight?” She decided to respond to the one remark he’d made that didn’t hit close to home.

  “Yep.” He leaned one bare shoulder against the doorframe and cast a blue-eyed glare in her direction. “You’re anti-fun, Red.”

  Irritation prickled her insides. “No, I’m not. I simply have different priorities than you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means my life doesn’t revolve around fun. I have a job, I have goals, I have responsibilities. Unlike you, I don’t have time to gallivant around, not if I want to pay my bills.” Her jaw tightened. “I’m not as lucky as you, Ben. Ten million dollars doesn’t just fall out of the sky and into my lap.”

  He made an exasperated sound. “I wasn’t asking you to quit your job, Maggie. Only to let loose and enjoy your day off.”

  “Sorry, but I don’t have that luxury. In my life there’s no such thing as a day off.”

  Shaking his head, he edged away from the doorway. “Wow. Sounds like you lead a mighty fulfilling life,” he cracked before disappearing into the hall.

  “Ben,” she called after him.

  His footsteps stopped. “Yeah?”

  She swallowed. “You should probably look for a hotel in the morning.”

  Chapter Six

  Ben strode into the bedroom he’d slept in last night and let his towel drop to the floor. He was aggravated as hell, a reaction that came out in a string of mumbled expletives. Who could blame him? He’d just received an incredible blow job from an incredible woman who’d then turned around and told him to get lost. If that didn’t merit a few four-letter wo
rds, what did?

  You should probably look for a hotel.

  Like hell he would.

  He grabbed his T-shirt from the foot of the bed and put it on, then slid into his jeans without bothering with his boxers. Tomorrow he’d buy some new clothes. Until then he was going commando.

  Maggie probably wouldn’t even blink if she knew he wasn’t wearing anything underneath his jeans. Why would she? It seemed like nothing he did would be enough to impress her.

  It seriously pissed him off.

  What the hell would it take to get under her skin? He’d thought the orgasm in the living room might do it. Or maybe the hot sex they could’ve shared if she hadn’t run out of the shower like a frightened rabbit.

  How was it possible that the one woman who’d intrigued him in a long time was also the one woman who wanted nothing to do with him? The chemistry between them was combustible enough to make anything it encountered burst into flames, but apparently chemistry didn’t impress Maggie Reilly either. They’d barely had sex and already she was shooing him off the stage.

  Of course, being the seasoned performer that he was, Ben had no intention of being shooed away.

  Maybe it was the challenge, maybe infatuation, or maybe she simply represented some level of normalcy that had been missing from his life since he’d become famous. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t walk away.

  You should probably look for a hotel in the morning.

  With those ten words, she’d thrown down the gauntlet, and no way would he come out the loser in this battle.

  Running his fingers through his wet hair, he smothered a grin and left the bedroom.

  When Maggie strode into the living room after she’d dressed and brushed her hair, she found it empty. The only signs of life came from the television Ben had left on, and Entertainment Tonight silently flashed across the screen.

  He’d obviously gone without saying goodbye.

  It shouldn’t bother her, but it did.

  “You’re the one who told him to find a hotel,” she muttered to herself, stretching out her legs and resting them on the coffee table.

  She had, hadn’t she? Right about now, every female in America would be screaming vile things at her if they knew she’d sent Ben Barrett away, but to hell with them.

  Growing up, Maggie never felt like she belonged. At school, she’d been a loner. At home, she’d been invisible. It wasn’t until she’d started volunteering at the Broger Center that she’d finally found a place where she fit in. She’d found her identity there, discovered that unwavering hunger to help the children and ensure they grew up feeling like they mattered.

  As a kid, she’d been passed up for adoption so many times she’d given up on ever finding someone who truly cared about her. It was like being the last person picked for a game of softball. Standing there as everyone around you got picked one by one, feeling humiliated and unloved, as useless as a piece of trash on the sidewalk.

  Only the stakes were higher than a silly sports game. It was about a child not being good enough to have parents.

  It had taken her years to get past that pain and resentment, and she didn’t want any of the kids she worked with to ever feel as alone as she had.

  So what if it meant putting relationships on hold for a while? She wouldn’t be single forever, just until she earned her degree. Then she’d go out and do what other women her age did. She’d date and flirt and maybe even get married. Other Ben Barretts would come along. It wasn’t like saying goodbye to this one would have life-altering effects or anything, right?

  “The ladies love Ben Barrett!”

  Maggie yelped as Mary Hart’s cheerful voice broke through the dismal silence in the room. Shifting, she felt the remote control dig into her butt and realized she’d accidentally pressed un-mute when she moved her legs.

  She yanked the remote from under her, but couldn’t bring herself to shut off the TV. Not when Ben’s ridiculously sexy face mocked her from the screen. It was like driving past a gory car crash. You just couldn’t look away.

  “Bad boy Barrett might be stirring up some scandals recently, but the Heart of a Hero star still manages to stir up the ladies.”

  No kidding.

  “Shanika Thomas, our New York correspondent, spent the day in the Big Apple chatting with Barrett’s fans, who don’t seem to mind all the negative attention their favorite celeb is receiving. In fact, it’s unanimous—we all love him.”

  “Oh my God, Ben is sooooo cute!” a fan giggled into Shanika Thomas’ microphone. “I don’t care if he, like, slept with a married woman. He’s still hot!”

  “I’m a married woman and he can sure sleep with me,” another fan remarked with a laugh. She lowered her voice. “Just don’t tell my husband I said that.”

  “I don’t know who his new girlfriend is, but I wish it were me,” someone else sighed. “I’d go to a hotel with Ben Barrett any night of the week!”

  “Well, there you have it,” Shanika chirped into the mic. “Scandalous or not, it looks like Ben Barrett has still scandalized the hearts of his female fans.”

  Scandalized the hearts? What did that even mean?

  Sighing, Maggie turned off the television and then nearly fell off the couch when the door to the apartment swung open.

  “Oh,” she blurted, eyes wide as Ben entered the room. “You’re still here?”

  “Sure am.”

  He strode toward her, dropping a set of keys—her keys—on the hall table before approaching the living area. He held a large brown paper bag in his hands, and from where she sat, she saw the splotches of grease at the bottom of the bag and the steam rising from the top.

  “I went out and got us some Chinese food. I don’t like pizza all that much.”

  “But…”

  “You asked me to leave?” He cocked a brow. “That’s not going to happen, Mags.”

  She bristled at his use of her nickname. “And why not?”

  “Because you like me. And I happen to like you.”

  “I also like Joe the hot dog vendor. Doesn’t mean I’m going to let him move in with me and turn my life upside down.”

  “Who said anything about moving in with you?” He flopped down on the couch, set the bag down on the coffee table and shot her a look that said you don’t understand me at all.

  Well, she didn’t understand him. He was Ben Barrett, for God’s sake. After watching that two-minute segment on him, she was pretty sure he could walk out of there and have five phone numbers in his pocket before he even left the building. So why was he sticking around?

  “All I want to do is spend a little time with you,” he added. “And if you’re honest, you’ll admit you want to spend time with me.”

  “Ben—”

  He silenced her by raising his hand, and like an obedient third-grader, her mouth slammed shut.

  “I have a proposition for you,” he announced.

  Wariness circled her insides like a pack of turkey vultures. “What kind of proposition?”

  “I’ll have sex with you if you let me stay here a while.” With a pleasant smile, he began removing items from the take-out bag. He carefully placed each cardboard container on the table, and then reached into the bag for the napkins and cutlery.

  She just stared at him. Obviously she’d misheard him, because no way had he just offered to sleep with her in exchange for room and board. Deciding to chalk it up to hallucination, she focused instead on the food he was laying out on the table, wondering what the hell he was doing. She’d told him to check into a hotel, for God’s sake, and instead he’d come back with that cocky attitude and a bag of Chinese food that smelled too damn good and made her empty stomach growl in anticipation.

  “Gimme that,” she sighed, grabbing the carton of egg rolls from his hands.

  “That’s all you’ve got to say?” He watched as she munched on a roll, his eyes bewildered. “You’re not going to respond to my proposition?”

  Damn. She hadn’t hallucinated i
t after all.

  But that didn’t mean she wanted to discuss it either, so she spared him a withering glance and said, “No.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  “Because it’s so ridiculous it doesn’t merit a response.”

  “It’s not ridiculous and you know it.”

  “What I know,” she said, swallowing before reaching for another egg roll, “is that you’re nuts. I’m not giving you a place to stay in exchange for sex.”

  “Why not? We both know you really need the sex.”

  Her nostrils flared. Deciding it was best to ignore this entire absurd exchange, she reached for a carton of chicken fried rice, grabbed a fork and ate a mouthful of rice. Her silence seemed to work, as Ben closed his mouth, but he continued to watch her, so intently, so knowingly, that it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore that flicker of heat in her belly.

  Fine, so maybe his proposition wasn’t totally ridiculous. Maybe the thought of having sex with Ben was even more delicious than this food. Maybe giving him a blow job in the shower had been the most erotic experience of her life and maybe she wanted to do it again.

  Didn’t mean she’d give in.

  “How long is your roommate away for?” Ben finally asked.

  “Eight days.” She chewed slowly. “Not that it should matter to you. You’re not staying here.”

  He leaned back against the sofa cushions and said, “You don’t find my offer the least bit tempting?”

  “Nope.”

  “Liar.”

  She ignored him and dug into a plate of vegetables, hoping that sooner or later he’d see she was serious and go away.

  It was, of course, hoping for too much.

  Before she could blink, he’d swiped the fork from her hands and tossed it on the table. Then, without giving her time to protest, he pulled her onto his lap and grasped her hips with his hands so she couldn’t move.

  “Let me stay with you, Maggie.”

  “No,” she murmured, trying very hard to ignore the warmth of his hands against her hips, the heat of his groin against her thighs.