Blurred Lines (Love Unexpectedly #1)(46)
A quick glance over my shoulder confirms that he’s watching me, and the hungry expression on his face makes me feel bold.
On my hands and knees, I slowly move toward the middle of the bed, then look once more over my shoulder.
Ben needs no further invitation. He’s naked in seconds, then he’s on the bed behind me, his hands moving slowly over my hips, his thumb slipping under my panty line just barely.
“Christ,” he mutters.
His hands roam over my back, then my front, before he slowly unhooks the bra, letting the straps slide over my shoulders.
His hands are on my breasts before I even can toss the bra aside. I moan in satisfaction as he touches me just right, knowing that I prefer teasing touches over rough ones, knowing exactly when to circle, when to flick, and when to lightly pinch.
“Ben.” It’s a plea.
One he answers by sliding a hand down over my stomach, unhesitatingly moving under my panties until one finger slicks all the way inside me. His breathing is as harsh as mine as he adds another finger, and my back arches upward in a desperate attempt to get closer.
He fingers me for several torturous minutes until neither of us can take it anymore. He pulls a condom out of my nightstand drawer in record time, and then he doesn’t even take my thong off, he merely pulls it to one side and pushes forward.
I’m beyond ready for him, and he slides in in one smooth stroke.
One hand fists my hair, pulling my head back just roughly enough so that I gasp as his other hand holds my hips steady while he plunges into me again and again.
My fingers slide down, too turned on to be embarrassed as I touch myself.
“Yes. Parker, yes.”
And then he cries out with a sharp yell and I’m right there with him, sinking down onto my elbows as shudders rock through me.
I feel both of his hands splay over my back, his fingers against my rib cage, and his breathing is hot and heavy against the damp skin of my back.
A few moments later, he disappears (I’ve trained him to throw away the condom in the bathroom), and while he’s gone I somehow drag myself up the bed so that my head finds the pillow, although I lack the energy to pull the covers up all the way.
He comes back in and surprises me by crawling into bed behind me.
Not that we haven’t slept together in the past couple weeks, but usually that’s more of a pass-out-from-sex kind of situation, whereas this feels…different.
Deliberate.
The sheet comes up around me as he pulls me back against him, and I have the strangest awareness that Ben is spooning me….
And I like it.
“Night, Parks,” he says, his voice sleepy.
I smile, feeling, for the first time today, like all is right in the world.
But as I drift off to sleep, my last thought is a worried one.
We dodged a bullet tonight, obviously.
But we’re going to have to handle the other person sleeping with someone else eventually.
Won’t we?
Chapter 20
Ben
Parker’s parents are big on regular weekend trips to the Oregon coast. They’ve gone a couple times a year since Parker was a little kid. They always rent the same place, play the same games, eat at the same restaurants.
It’s like a Blanton family thing.
I’ve tagged along a couple times, but not since college.
Like Blanton family dinners, I sort of stopped participating in family things once Lance and Parker got serious.
But when Parker asks if I want to go with her and her parents the weekend after our failed “have sex with other people” experiment, I jump at the chance.
Mostly because I’m dying to get away from Portland.
Things at work have been more hectic since the promotion, and since I’ve been feeling kind of itchy and bored with the whole bar scene, I’m not really sure what to do with myself.
I’ve got this weird restless feeling, like change is on the horizon, and I don’t really know how I feel about it.
I need a break.
“So. Ben.”
Parker’s mom snags a carrot off the cutting board where I’ve been assigned to chop vegetables for the salad, and nibbles it as she leans back against the kitchen counter and studies me.
I continue to slice the carrots in careful, even rounds and don’t look at her, hoping like crazy that she’s not going to ask me about my intentions toward her daughter.
Parker says she hasn’t told her parents about the fact that we’ve gotten all sexy-times, but Sandra Blanton’s always struck me as the type of parent who knows things.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” she says.
My knife falters. Surely she doesn’t mean…
“On your promotion,” she continues, grabbing another carrot.
Oh. That.
“Yeah, thanks.”
She laughs. “Oh, come on! You sound like it’s a punishment.”
I shrug. “It’s just…not that big a deal is all.”
“Well, Parker seems to think it’s a pretty big deal. She talked about it for, like, thirty minutes straight when she called to tell us about it.”
I glance up to look out the window to where Parker and her father are manning the barbecue.
It’s cold and dreary, seeing as we’re at the beach in almost-winter, and she looks adorable in one of my oversized gray UO sweatshirts with the hood drawn up and the sleeves hanging several inches below the tips of her fingers.