I was silent for a moment, stroking the thick line of his pectoral muscle. “I didn’t set bounds to harm you, you know,” I said finally. “Now that we’ve done this, are you going to be okay with them?”

“If it will make you happy, yes.”

“Good. I imagine it’s a lot harder for you than it is for me.”

He grinned. It was a wicked grin, one that melted me. “It’ll be hard for you again if you give me a little time to recover from your lusty demands.”

I pinched his nipple. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Mr. Mind Reader. It was hard for me to feel the need inside you, and not want to give you what you wanted.”

He rolled onto his side, both arms around me as he kissed my eyes. “I promised to not ask you for more than you can give, and I appreciate that you have done the same for me.”

An echo followed those words, so faint I wasn’t sure I caught it. You’re mine. I could ask for nothing more.

I kept my thoughts from him as he pulled up the blankets and settled me so I was more or less tucked under him, one of his heavy legs thrown over mine in a manner that left me feeling protected. Ben might not want to ask for anything more, but I could. The question was, did I want to?

Chapter 12

Some nine hours later I stared at a little beam of sunlight that had penetrated the blinds, falling with golden cheer onto the spot on the bed next to me. I leaned forward, unable to keep from sniffing the sunshine. It smelled like Ben. My toes curled happily.

Are you still awake? I asked softly, just in case he had gone to sleep. He’d woken me up a short time before to tell me he was returning to Naomi’s trailer before the sun came fully up.

Yes. You’re not still angry with me?

No. I was for a bit when you insisted you had to go back to Naomi, but I understand, Ben, I really do. I’m sorry I called you a ratty pustule on the buttocks of a slug.

Your apology is accepted.

And I’m sorry I threw that fire extinguisher at you. You’re sure the lump on your forehead has gone down?

Yes. You have remarkably good aim considering the bulkiness of the weapon you wielded.

And I much regret telling you I never wanted to see you again, and that you could rot in the scummiest part of the underworld, eaten by plagued rats and cockroaches. I didn’t mean that.

I know you didn’t. For which I am truly thankful.

I do miss you, though.

I miss you too, love.

I smiled at the word. Oh, I knew full well it was used as a term of endearment and not a declaration of his emotions, but it still made me feel cherished. You sound kind of distracted. What are you doing?

Waiting for Naomi to finish ranting at me so I can take a shower and go to bed.

She’s yelling? I smiled with satisfaction. Because you were out with me all night?

I didn’t tell her I was with you. I told her I was confused and conflicted by your presence. She just threatened to have you turned into a water vole.

I hope you discouraged that.

I haven’t had the chance to say a word yet. She’s too busy screaming at me.

Poor little Ben, I said with mock sympathy. Left one pissed-off girlfriend, only to find your other girlfriend is just as angry. I feel for you.

She’s not my girlfriend, and that statement would carry a little more weight if you weren’t thinking all sorts of smug thoughts about me getting my just deserts. Ah, at last.

At last?

She stormed off to go into town to pick up breakfast. Now I can have a shower and try to get some sleep before she returns to harangue me again.

I sat up straight in bed. You’re going to take a shower? Right now?

Yes.

I almost started drooling at the thought. An idea popped into my head, one so audacious I almost couldn’t believe it. I leaped from the bed and snatched up a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

Why do you ask? Did you wish for me to touch myself again and allow you to see? He flooded my head with the sensations he was feeling as he stepped into the small shower in Naomi’s trailer. Warm water cascaded down his naked self, his hands running down his chest and belly until he was cupping himself.

I was out of the trailer and across the common area before he could do more than ask, Did you want me to do this?

I moaned under my breath as he swirled soap around his chest.

“Good morning, Fran. Isn’t it a lovely day?” Tallulah’s voice wormed its way into the dense haze of lust that filled my mind at the feeling of Ben stroking his wet, soapy chest, bringing me to a halt. I whimpered.

“What was that, dear?” she frowned at me.

“Ben. Shower. Soap,” I said, somewhat desperately.

“Ben needs soap? How very odd.”

“No. He’s in the shower. Right now.” I clutched Tallulah’s arms as Ben soaped up his rear. “Oh dear goddess. He’s all wet. Completely and utterly wet!”

“One generally gets that way in the shower.”

Do you wish it was your fingers touching me? Ben asked as he stroked soap onto his long legs.

“Calf muscles,” I gasped, whimpering once again. “Thighs!”

She looked at me oddly for a moment, then gave a quick nod. “Yes, I see. Go to him, my dear. I believe you have made the right choice.”

“Slick, soapy chest!” I babbled and then realized she’d given me her blessing. I grinned and ran to Naomi’s door, opening it cautiously to make sure she really had left.

The room was empty, but the sound of running water had me stripping off my clothing and hurrying to the narrow door that led to the tiny shower.

Or perhaps you wish for me to do this? His fingers wrapped around his penis, partially erect, and growing more interested in every passing moment.

I’d rather you let me do that, I told him.

I’d rather you would, as well, but since you can’t—

I jerked open the shower door, the warm mistiness of the environment enveloping me as Ben, startled, spun around to face me. “Oh, I think I can.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” He gave a surprised jerk, his dark hair slicked back from his forehead, warm water and steam cascading around him. “Naomi could be back at any minute.”

The shower wasn’t large, but it was big enough for the two of us. Barely.

“I know. I figure it takes at least fifteen minutes to get to town and back.” Joining him in the shower pretty much meant I was smashed up against him, a fact I wasn’t going to protest at all. I closed the shower door, avoided hitting the showerhead, and wrapped my arms around the slippery, soapy Ben.

“This is not at all wise,” he started to say, but I stopped him by kissing him, and rubbing my demanding breasts against his chest. “Naomi—”

“—isn’t here, and I am, and we have fifteen minutes, so let’s make the most of it. Are you a dirty boy? Do I need to soap you up?”

Ben frowned, annoyance and passion mingling in his eyes, which were darkening with each passing second. “I am not dirty, nor a boy—” He stiffened when I slid my hands from his chest to his penis. “Perhaps I am a little dirty. Would you like some soap?”

“Oh, yes,” I purred, accepting the sea sponge that was lathered with a spicy-scented soap. With my back to the showerhead, I blocked most of the water, which allowed me to swirl the sponge down his chest and belly, to his groin. Although I wouldn’t have minded soaping all of him up, I was conscious of the need to be quick, and went straight for pay dirt. So to speak.

Ben splayed against the back of the shower, his eyes closed as I lathered him up, spreading my fingers through the slick hair, exploring the length of his quickly growing penis and accompanying scenery. He groaned as I found a tempo that pleased him, his hips making little thrusts, sending his slippery length through my hands.

“This is so much better than you doing it,” I said, water cascading down me. I watched him move in my grasp, gently rubbing the underside, as I understood men liked. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since you let me see you the first time.”

Ben said something in another language, then gave a little head shake and returned to English. “That’s an understatement. You said you’re double-jointed?”

“Yes.” I was fascinated by the feel and sight of his arousal, wanting to touch it in all sorts of ways, wanting to stroke and lick and kiss all the rest of him, too. Confined in a small space as we were, however, I would have to content myself with just indulging in some tactile pleasure.

“Good. Put your arms around my shoulders.”

“Huh?” I looked up. “You don’t want me to give you a soapy hand job?”

“Oh, I do, but I think if we’re fast, there’s time for more.”

“More? You don’t mean—”

He bent slightly, grasping me around the waist and hoisting me up. “Legs around mine,” he said, slipping his hands down to my butt to pull me up a little higher before pressing me against the wall.

“Sun and stars, Ben! You don’t mean—hoo!” He lunged forward, his penis sliding along my private parts. “In the shower? Standing? Oh, you missed, just a smidgen to the left. Merciful goddess, I didn’t know we could do this. Am I too heavy for you? Am I hurting you? Should I maybe put one leg down to take some of my weight off your back? No, you missed again, a little higher, I think. Oh! No, not quite. Close but no banana.”

“Francesca,” Ben said through what seemed to be gritted teeth as he lunged somewhat wildly now, his aim, given the fact that we were now both soapy and wet, not as good as could be hoped for.

“What?”

“Too much talking, not enough helping me.”

“Oh.” I could help? I released one arm from where I’d been clutching his shoulders. He moved his hips back slightly so I could snake my hand down between us, positioning him where he would be assured success. “Sorry. I’m new to this.”

“Believe me, I’m well aware of that,” he said, groaning again as he sank into my welcoming flesh. “And no, not because you’re doing it wrong. You’re very tight, Francesca. So tight it makes my head spin. No, don’t try to help. Just tilt your hips up slightly . . . Ahhh.”