A Mess of a Man (Cruel & Beautiful #2)(45)

His hand still strokes his gorgeous cock, and then he rolls the condom on. With hands on my thighs, he yanks me to the edge of the desk and in one swift motion, enters me. Then he stills. A palm lands in the center of my chest and pushes me back. He bends one leg so my thigh about touches my chest and drapes the other leg over his shoulder. Honest to God, one thrust in this position and he hits every spot that rings my buzzers. I come almost immediately. About three or four pounding thrusts later, I scream his name, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps going as if he never heard me. And it builds again until I hit climax number three. That’s when I feel his body tense, he stands up straight and slides his hands under my ass and comes. And, Jesus on a picnic, I’ve never seen anything so arousing in my life. It dawns on me then that we both still have our shirts on, but that was one sizzling romp on the desk, if I do say so myself.

When he looks at me, I’m expecting that sexy-as-hell grin, but instead, I get confused by an ambivalent look. He drops his head back and runs his hands through his hair. I’m not sure what’s going through his mind, but it can’t be good. And since I’ve never done the f*ck buddy thing before him, I’m not quite sure what to say. So I opt for something fairly comical.

“Hmm… the many uses of a desktop. Workstation, computer space, and hotspot for sexromp.”

I’m greeted with silence. Now I feel beyond awkward. I’m sitting on his desk and his dick is still inside of me, and he hasn’t said a word. What the actual f*ck is going on here?

“Earth to Ben?”

He finally looks at me after closing his eyes for a long second then blinking down at me.

“Yeah?”

“You okay there?” I ask.

“Fine.” His voice sounds clipped.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Oh, okay, then. Would you be interested in grabbing dinner?”

“No, like I said before, I have work to finish. I’m sorry, but it’s been a terrible week.”

Maybe it is his work. But he’s whiplash Ben again. Or * Ben. And I’m too inexperienced to know how to deal with this.

He stands and slips out of me, removes the condom, and ties off the end. I wonder what he’s going to do with it when I watch him toss it in his trashcan. In another nonchalant move, he bends down and pulls up his pants, tucks in his shirt and I’m left sitting on his desk bared assed.

I can’t keep my mouth shut any longer. “Okay. What’s the deal here?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting strange. That’s what I mean.”

“Sam, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to connect with you. Work is crazy like that, which is one reason I don’t do the relationship thing. You came, you wanted to f*ck. I made time and did that. This is what f*ck buddies do; they don’t expect more.”

Why do I just feel like he slapped me in the face?

“Okay. But you’re Mr. Hyde. A few minutes ago you were Dr. Jekyll. Why the change? Why are you acting so different? We were f*ck buddies the other night and you didn’t act cold like this.”

His hand is in his hair again.

“I don’t know what you want from me. But this is the real Ben Rhoades. As you can see, there are many facets to me. And this is what I have to offer. If it’s not what you want …” He shrugs.

His blunt words sting so I keep my mouth shut, despite the dozen not-so-nice replies I’d like to throw at him. Instead, I hop off the desk and put my thong on and then my skirt as quickly as I can and with a, “See you around,” I do a fast walk of shame out of there.

What a douche. I’m not sure what happened after the explosive orgasm, but something surely did. And whatever it was, it wasn’t good. I don’t know if I want to scream in anger or cry my eyes out. Or maybe both. The damn elevator takes its time getting to the floor as I pound the call button with my fist. When the doors open, I fly through them like I have a firecracker up my ass. And I think I do. His name is Ben Rhoades, resident *.

By the time I get to my car, I’m sure my blood is as hot as the surface of the sun. Slow it down, girl. You’re going to crash the damn car.

As I stomp through my front door, I come to one resounding conclusion. This f*ck buddy thing was the biggest mistake of my life. What the hell was I thinking? Clearly, I wasn’t. Why can’t I be like other girls and choose men who treat them right? And not total twatheads who f*ck me over every single time. I am so done with this crap. So done.

Lauren is watching TV and she hollers out to me, so I pop my head in the room. “You do not want to be around me tonight.” And I burst into tears. What in the wide world of f*cks is wrong with me? I barely ever cry. Since Ben Rhoades, Produce Asshole From Hell entered my life, it seems that’s all I ever do. That and curse like a sailor.

“Oh my God, now what?” She immediately rushes to my side.

When I tell her, she just hugs me. In her true fashion, I don’t get the old, I told you so. And that’s what I love best about Lauren.

“Everyone has to go through the worst things to enjoy the best. You’ll get your knight in shining armor one day. I swear you will.”

That night I dream of my knight, only he has messy dark hair and compelling gray eyes, with a body that drives me to the point of orgasm. I wake up with the sheets all rumpled and my hand in my panties, bringing me to a climax. Damn that Ben Fucking Rhoades.