A Life More Complete(4)
I glance back at him as I move into warrior pose, his board shorts hanging from his hips so low that I can’t help but think inappropriate things about him. He’s absolutely and incomprehensibly gorgeous and he wants me the way most women would kill for. His short dark brown hair drying into an adorable faux hawk. Stomach muscles clenched while the sun shines off his tanned body. A body that only surfing and manual labor can create.
As the class draws to an end I move swiftly into his chest wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. I nuzzle my head under his chin where it fits perfectly. I breathe deeply taking in his smell and basking in his comfort. Rarely do I touch him without warning or provocation.
“What’s that for?” he asks pulling away from me just slightly. I don’t answer his question. I can’t because admitting I need him shows weakness, which is a term I’m not comfortable with.
“Do you want to shower at my house today?” I ask and the look on his face is priceless as he grabs my hand, tugging me toward the public parking lot as I reach to pick up my shoes. I climb into the passenger seat of his old Toyota 4Runner. The SUV suits him perfectly and I love the smell of worn leather and ocean that radiates from within it. Without delay he hauls his surfboard onto the roof of the car and calls Roxy into the backseat. His smile is plastered across his face and his hand rests quietly on my thigh. He drives quickly toward my house before I have a chance to bail on my question. He whips into my driveway, knowing we have little time to spare before the impending workday will begin. Understanding what I have started, I do what I do best. I saunter to the keypad on the garage and punch in the code. The door rises slowly and as it does, I bend at the waist, ducking under the door. Standing at the door to the house, I bite my bottom lip and lift my tank top over my head while simultaneously hitting the garage-door button. Roxy trailing behind him, he runs at me and I squeal with delight. I turn quickly and jet into the house with him straggling behind. I pull off my bra and shorts mid run and stop in the doorway to the bedroom. I stand in only a pair of black underwear. He stops dead his mouth open slightly as he stares.
I long to feel him against me. Everything in my body is warm. It moves from my fingertips, heating every part of me as if I am climbing into warm bath water. Ben places me on the bed, straddling me, his hands on either side of my face. Gazing up at him a small smile crosses my lips and I whisper, “You’re my most wonderful downfall.” I feel my eyes soften at the corners and I swallow hard. His mouth presses firmly against mine, his tongue parting my lips and invading my mouth. I’m gone. I moan as he enters me and he responds, moving quickly. I feel my pulse and breathing increase. He matches my hips as they move against him. His breathing turns erratic and his lips cover my body in kisses so rapid that I can’t locate where they have touched. When he stills inside me and says my name, I come with him. His eyes are soft as he leans down and kisses me slowly. This is what I do to him. It’s heady and relaxing, yet frightening that I have this much control over him. I’m falling for him wholeheartedly and it’s all consuming.
I notice every detail about him, and like a favorite movie, I can recall almost everything he has ever said to me. I love the way he smells like nature, the outdoors—a smell that will forever remind me of him. He’s reserved and casual to the point that he might be called aloof. He chews Trident original flavor gum and on particularly trying days he greets me with a quick kiss because the smell of cigarettes lingers on his body. A habit he claims to have broken long ago, but I know he still seeks the comfort of a cigarette on occasion. He loves beer and surfing. He refuses to discuss politics with anyone, because in his words “it only causes avoidable arguments.” He’s the kindest, gentlest, and sweetest person I know. He’s perfect, perfectly wonderful. And I’m pretty sure he loves me. It is killing me.
Ben knows very little about my life before I met him. I share nothing, especially regarding my former serious relationship. I don’t want it to seem like I’m hung up on my ex, which obviously I am. But there’s no need to be so clearly desperate. Even without its mention Ben somehow knows not to ask. I, in turn, give him the same respect. There has always been a sadness in Ben’s eyes, something that called to me the day we met. Even though I know without reservation that Ben is damaged, I can’t bring myself to bear anyone else’s burden, too. So the past stays silent.
---Chapter 2---
As I step out of the shower I can hear Ben rushing around my bedroom. He’s sifting through t-shirts looking for one that, in his words, won’t make him look like he’s wearing a girl’s t-shirt. He’s wearing a worn out, dirty pair of Levis and he couldn’t look more seductive if he tried. He stands there shirtless with his jeans hanging loosely from his hips. I can’t help but smile when I’m around him and I know deep within me that I want to love Ben Torres. Maybe someday I will or maybe I already do. He pulls an unsuspecting t-shirt from my drawer and swipes it over his head. Looking down he notices that he’s wearing my Princess Half marathon t-shirt from Disneyland.