This Is Not How It Ends(61)

Without warning, a gust shot through the air, and a branch cracked my arm. That’s when Ben appeared, shirtless, ruffled from sleep. “What the hell were you thinking, Charlotte? I told you not to go outside!”

A burning pain ripped through my arm, a bright red staining the hole in my sweatshirt.

“Get inside,” he said, grabbing me with one hand and taking hold of Sunny’s leash and securing it to his collar with the other.

He left me on his pristine couch and went looking for a towel. The house was lit up with candles, and I could make out the concern that lined Ben’s face. He shined the flashlight against my sleeve, pushing it up to get a better look. “That wound is deep,” he said, jumping off the couch and rummaging through nearby drawers. Sunny was at my side, his sorry eyes poking out from beneath the soggy fur. He licked the blood, but Ben shooed him away.

Ever so gently, he rubbed ointment on the cut, and the pain faded beneath his touch. He wrapped my arm tightly, asked if I was okay, and gave me a final reprimand. “It could’ve been worse, Charlotte.”

“I’m fine, Ben.”

Outside, the sounds of the whistling wind didn’t frighten me, but Ben’s soft hands lovingly stroking my damp hair had me on edge. I was suddenly aware of his bare chest, the flimsy pajama bottoms between us. He scooted closer, and his arm came down around me. It was subtle, unexpected, and the pain disappeared. “You scared me, Charley.”

Every fiber in my body was awake. His skin against mine, velvet against naked flesh. I stretched my body and turned to him. “You called me Charley.”

The flashlight between us highlighted more than our faces. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” he began, stroking the hair that fell down my shoulders. I’d stared at him a dozen times, but never this close. Never this vulnerable. Never this deep, where I could see his soul pouring into mine.

There was no hiding what I was feeling in that moment. I might have been out of sorts, but I knew what I knew, and I knew I loved Ben. I’d loved Ben for weeks now. I didn’t want to love Ben. I knew loving Ben was not going to be easy.

What happened next—I could come up with a dozen reasons why we weren’t to blame. Here we were, Ben and me, facing the pull of nature’s elements, a tidal wave of feelings that made us self-destruct. He was wind; I was rain. Together, we were the perfect storm.

But there were no excuses to be had when I slipped my ring off and dropped it on the table.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I reached for his cheek first, the betrayal dwarfed by a different sensation. His skin was smooth; he leaned into the curve of my hand. “Charley.”

The other hand found the other cheek, and I forced him to find my eyes.

“I love you, too.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said I love you, too.”

He was soaking it in, his face showing all the signs of confusion.

“We’ll tell him when he gets back.” He was quiet. My words were beginning to sink in. “He’ll have to understand. I know he loves me, but I’m not sure it’s enough.”

Right there I should’ve stopped myself. It was no one’s fault but mine. The decision, that too was mine, and its consequences would be terms I’d have to live with. And yet, I wasn’t afraid. I knew what I had to do. And when Philip returned, I was going to tell him. I couldn’t marry him. I loved him, but I couldn’t be his wife.

“Please kiss me, Ben.”

He was in my face, and his breath tickled my skin. “If I touch you, Charley, it won’t be a single kiss. I’m going to do to you the things I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Before he could say anything else, my mouth was covering his and my lips spread open. There was an urgency that had his hands trailing down my back and beneath my shirt. He stopped, but it was only to lift me up and carry me to his bedroom. His room was modern and masculine, and he dropped me on the bed, careful of my arm.

I kissed him, pulling him on top of me, forgetting I belonged to someone else.

There was no denying I had imagined what it would be like to make love to Ben. The imaginary dalliance consisted of rough hands and urgent kisses. Uninhibited desire set free, as though we were running out of time.

It was nothing like that.

Ben told me to slow down, laying me against the pillows and stroking my hair. “Look at me.” I stared into his eyes as he undressed me as though he were preparing a meal. First my shirt. Tender. Exact. Slowly, he slid my pajama bottoms off. They were dirty and still a little damp. I was naked beside him, and the way he looked at me dug deep beneath my skin. I reached for him, and he pulled back.

His lips, one by one, traced the lines of my hips and thighs, and I felt the throbbing ache that made it impossible to stop what was happening between us. He reached my breasts, and I arched my back, grabbing hold of his hair, urging him on, begging, “Please.”

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he breathed. “I’ll take my time.”

He kissed me again, his body pressing into mine. Ripe with desire, I needed to touch him. I tugged at his bottoms until he slid out of his pants. He let out a groan. We were skin to skin, heart to heart.

He held my eyes in his. “Do you want this, Charley?” I answered by opening my legs and letting him in. There were no words, just two people sealed together by fate.