A Mess of a Man (Cruel & Beautiful #2)(25)

“Ben, can you put me down, please?” My voice is barely above a whisper.

His footsteps falter. “What? Why?”

“I really need you to put me down.” There is no mirth in my tone. He sets me on my feet so now I am forced to look at him. And much the pity because the man should have sparks flying off him he’s that hot. Cliché, but he is.

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

“You might say that.” I have no doubt my face is the color of a bowl of cherries.

His questioning expression quickly morphs into a cocky smile and he stands there, all full of himself, like he’s the greatest prize ever. And honestly, he is. But I’m not quite ready for this yet. He rubs his chin and flashes a sexy smirk.

“Hmm. You sure seemed okay a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, boy. You had to go there, didn’t you?” This is such a weird combination of awkwardness and regret. I don’t know quite how to handle this.

His forehead crinkles and a tiny V forms between his eyes. Why are men always so damn clueless? Do I need to spell it out?

“I guess I wasn’t quite ready for that step we just took.”

His jaw opens. For a second he says nothing. “Maybe the fact that you let me get you off, and from the sounds of it, enjoyed the hell out of it, gave me the wrong idea.”

And I can feel his growing annoyance.

“You’re right. I take responsibility for that and it was great, I admit. But that’s as far as it’s going for now. I barely even know you.”

His eyes narrow for a second before he lets out a chuckle. “It was your choice. And you’re lying to yourself for some self-righteous reason.”

God, why does he have to act like such an ass? Lying to myself? He’s right about one thing; I’m starting to feel self-righteous.

“Is that so? How many women have you done that to that qualifies you as an expert in this field?”

Any amusement on his face has totally vanished and his gray eyes darken. “Enough.”

“And that makes you an expert?”

“I didn’t say anything about being an expert.”

“No, you didn’t. That was out of line. I’m sorry.”

“So what’s going on here?” He motions between us with his finger.

Isn’t that a good question?

My hand reaches for my forehead. This has been one hell of a weird night. “I don’t know. I think we may have gotten a bit carried away, but I think it’s best if you go.”

He drops his head and that’s when we both notice the tent in his pants. He half laughs while adjusting himself.

“You know what? I think you’re right. I don’t have time to play games with little girls.” He gives me a circling salute, which almost reminds me of the you’re crazy gesture. “Have a goodnight, Samantha.”

His exit is hasty and the door slams making me wince. Games? I wasn’t playing any games. Things just moved so fast I didn’t have time to react until it was too late. I need lessons on how to deal with men. Why don’t they have classes for this somewhere? Fuck!

This night certainly turned into a disaster of epic proportions. The first thing that calls to me is the shower. Washing away the touch of Ben Rhoades might help me with the second, which is sleep. Maybe I can dream away tonight.

I crawl into my bed and curl up into a tight ball, trying not to relive the awkward night. But it’s impossible as thoughts of Ben making me come as hard as I ever have keep playing in my mind like a video stuck on replay. At one point I find myself so completely turned on I almost have to take things into my own hands. The only thing that stops me is I know if I do, all I’ll think of is that messy-haired gray-eyed devil. And he’s the one I’m trying my damnedest to forget.

“Ugh,” I groan, pulling the covers over my head. He’s cursed me for life. Even Trevor didn’t spell me up like this. I never had the feels for him this much and the sex didn’t come close. Fiddle-f*cking-tastic fingers, I can’t imagine what a whole night of Ben Rhoades would be like. Probably couldn’t walk the next day. Well, no worries on that one. I’m sure I’ve blown any chance of ever seeing him again.

Shoving the covers off, I climb out of my haven and march into the kitchen for a glass of milk. It’s two thirty in the morning and I’m exhausted with no chance of sleep in sight. The glass is now empty and I stare at the bottom of it. About four feet away is the wall my hands were pressed against only a few hours ago as I moaned out my pleasure in the form of one hell of an orgasm.

Stop, Sam. This is getting you nowhere, other than obsessing about BenSex!

“What are you doing up?”

Lauren’s voice scares the hell out of me and I let out a scream.

“What the hell, Sam?”

“You scared me.”

“I thought you heard me come home. Sorry.”

“No, I didn’t hear you. I couldn’t sleep so I got up to drink some milk.”

“Why can’t you sleep and how was the date?”

Those are questions I don’t want to answer. But she’ll wheedle the answers out of me so I might as well get it over with. “Trevor is a jerk and so is Ben.”

“Wait, what?”

“Are you drunk?” I ask her.