Deep (Stage Dive, #4)(54)

“I’m supposed to be going.”

If I could just keep my legs shut I might yet win this battle. It seemed an insurmountable task, given the array of his arsenal. The size of his artillery. One hand dived down further, stroking between my legs, while the other held the back of my head. I was helpless, the battle lost. God, I sucked. All right, so I was too turned on to think straight and my hormones were in open rebellion. Any attempt at coherent, rational thought was mercilessly slain upon the altar of my lust. Damn it.

“B-Ben.”

In a move proving he was indeed one of the greats of rock ’n’ roll, he kicked my suitcase clear off the queen bed with one big, black boot while dipping me back into his waiting arm, while moving his hand around to the front of my panties to apply pressure to my clit in the most amazing way. Holy hell. Stars danced before my eyes, I was so ready to light up for him. Vegas had nothing on me.

Someone really needed to give him an award, though. Something to do with multitasking and hot sex moves and shit. Shoot.

My back hit the mattress and he climbed over me, situating himself between my legs. Fuck he was gorgeous. The strong, clean lines of his cheekbones and the moody-ass gonna-get-me-laid darkness of his eyes. I couldn’t catch my breath, but it didn’t matter. My breasts straining against his chest was its own reward. It was entirely possible I currently owned the hardest, happiest nipples in all of creation. They were so sensitive.

Who said pregnancy isn’t fun?

He covered my mouth with his, kissing me stupid once more. Man, he tasted good. All the while he kept his weight on one elbow, putting no pressure on my belly. The things he could do with his free hand were delightful—running it up and down the outside of my thigh, slipping it up, up beneath my shirt to trace my ribs. But wait … I couldn’t give up this easy. It was shameful. I’d been in the middle of making a point and everything.

“I was leaving. I was.”

No answer from him. Instead, his hard cock rubbed back and forth between my legs, making my back bow. One pair of jeans and one pair of panties too many. That was the problem right there.

I gasped. “I don’t think friends that are just friends are meant to do this.”

Without comment he sat up, grabbing the back of his button-down shirt and pulling it off over his head. His chest was so pretty. So hard and big and stuff, it made my IQ drop to my shoe size. Everything about him did. The bearded sex machine turned me into a stuttering fool. Sad but true.

“Ben, I can’t just spread for you the minute you decide you want some.”

Sitting back on his heels, he grabbed both of my legs, holding them up against him. Off went my shoes, followed fast by my panties.

“Wait.”

He didn’t.

“Maybe I’m not interested in having sex with you.” A blatant lie. But I was getting desperate for some kind of communication from him of the nonphysical sort. “Did you think of that?”

His gaze on mine, he held my underwear up to his nose.

“Oh my god, do not sniff my panties. Ben!”

A slow grin spread across his face.

“That’s terrible. You don’t see me going around doing stuff like that, do you? No.” On account of me not wearing any pants, they couldn’t catch on fire. Lucky.

He threw the innocent, soaked scrap of material aside.

“Anyway, my vagina is out of control. That proves nothing.”

He placed a soft kiss against one of my fat ankles, giving it a good looking over.

“And don’t look at my ankles. You know how I feel about them.” I tried to retrieve my limbs, but he held on tight, wrapping both arms around them, holding them to his hot chest. “Why are you doing this?”

Slowly, he started one-handed massaging my toes. Nice, but beside the point.

“Say something.”

“You said there wasn’t anything I could say that would fix things,” he mumbled, his warm, wet mouth kissing the side of my foot, his beard ticklish in just the right way. “Figured I’d just show you why you should stay.”

“Sex?”

“Seems to be what you want right now.”

I snorted. “You started it.”

The bastard smirked. “Tell me more about your * being out of control. This interests me.”

“No.” Me and my idiot mouth. “Nothing to tell.”

The lethal combination of his soft, warm lips and sleek beard was doing me in. The heat and strength of his body. Every time he touched me, I could have sworn there were sparkles inside of my skin. Little lights burning me up in the sweetest possible way. How the hell was a girl supposed to compete against that? The man had sexual superpowers and I was just me, dysfunctional at the best of times.

“Why do you want me to stay?” I asked, voice ever so slightly pleading. I didn’t even know what for. Fingers wrapped around my ankles, rubbing gently. “Because of the baby?”

“No,” he said. “Because of everything.”

“‘Everything’ being…”

His forehead went all wrinkly. “I don’t know. I meant what I said. I never wanted to be in a relationship. But then you never wanted to be having a baby so young. Guess we’re both just going to have to figure it out as we go along.”

“Um, no.” I shut my eyes tight. “Ben, we’ve been here before. You think you want something with me but then it’s all too much and you run. And it’s okay. It’s okay for you to just concentrate on your music and living free and easy and to not want to be in a permanent relationship. What’s not okay is for you to get my hopes up again, because honestly the comedown really sucks.”