Make Me Bad(76)

Colten turns back to Ben. “You got this?”

“Yeah. We’ll be back when you need us. Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

They’re talking and blabbering on, meanwhile I’m searching high and low on Colten’s desk for his keys. I shuffle papers. Where does he keep the damn things? On his holster? I’ll just take that too. Oh, look, there’s his gun—even better.

Big hands wrap around my waist and I’m hauled up and over Ben’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Hey! Wait! No!”

“See ya, Colt.”

“Bye, Ben.”

“Oh, okay, I see, you two are best friends now?” I ask, dangling upside down. Ben’s beautiful butt is right in front of my face. I poke it to be sure he’s listening to me. “Hey, you, put me down.”

He doesn’t put me down.

He carries me right to his car and plops me down on the seat. Then he buckles me in nice and safe.

“I hate you.”

He bends low to give me a kiss. “I love you. Should we go back to the party now?”





22





Ben





Two months later





Today’s a big day for me.

A day I’ve been counting down to with mixed emotions.

A day I’m not sure Madison is aware of.

This morning, she seemed perfectly happy. We ate first and second breakfast in my bed. I checked work emails on my laptop, propped up against pillows while she watched an episode of a PBS miniseries. She records a bunch of stuff at my house since she doesn’t have a TV at her apartment. It’s all stuff I’d never even heard of before her: Downton Abbey, Poldark. If it doesn’t take place at least a hundred years ago, she’s not into it. I watched a little of the show this morning, but mostly I watched her watching it. She smiled whenever the handsome guy walked on screen. She really has a thing for men in old-timey outfits.

She caught me staring and held up her mug, waving it as if to say, Refill this for me, would you?

When I refused to get out of the warm bed, she just stole mine, sipping it slowly as she leaned against my chest. When I tried to get it back, she tsked and pulled it out of my reach. So, I guess things are getting pretty comfortable with us. She’s been staying over a few nights a week, when I can persuade her. I had to start slow, compromising with just one night. That slowly morphed into two, then three. I can’t believe she ever wants to sleep in that apartment on that futon—which, by the way, is broken now. We had sex on it last weekend and one of the screws came loose. Seconds into her losing herself to a toe-curling orgasm, we both tumbled to the ground in a heap of writhing, naked limbs. I found the screw, but I lied and said I didn’t. It’s part of my master plan to get her to move in with me. On my way out that day, I also stole her coffee pot. The less amenities she has, the sooner she’ll come crawling to me, begging to move in. It’s a pretty solid plan, if you ask me.

After her show ended this morning, we finally decided to get out of bed, but then I caught a little glimpse of her butt sticking out of her pajama shorts. Just one peek at her curves and I yanked her right back down, throwing the covers over us so there was no possible hope for her to escape.

“We’ll be late!” she protested as I slid down her body, taking her shorts and panties off on my descent.

Turns out, she was wrong. I can be very efficient when I need to be.

Now, we’re up at the library in the storage room grabbing a few last-minute things for story time.

Madison’s partially hidden behind a row of boxes, digging for a stuffed penguin she says the kids will love, when I finally announce why today is so important.

“This is my last day volunteering here.”

“I can’t hear you.”

I smirk. It’s dead quiet in this room. She heard me just fine.

“Madison…”

She pokes her head around the edge of the box and narrows her eyes. “What?”

“I’ve completed all my mandated hours.”

“Oh.” She looks down at the floor. “That’s great, Ben.”

“You sound sad.”

Her bright green eyes jump back to me. “I do? How’s this?” She forces a smile and raises her voice a few octaves with her second try. “That’s great, Ben!”

“Madison…you knew this was coming. You’ve been signing off on my volunteer hours every week.”

“I know, but…” Her finger traces the edge of the box. Guilt laces her next few words. “I’ve been shaving off hours here and there as a way to keep you here longer.” I already know this. I look at the form she signs and it’s blatantly obvious. I should have finished volunteering over a month ago. “I was even thinking of telling Judge Mathers I didn’t think you had really reformed yourself. I was going to ask that another 100 hours be added to your sentence.”

She’s crazy. I love her.

I tilt my head, studying her. She has that damn stuffed penguin in her hand now. She’s toying with it, flapping its wings. She looks so sad, and my heart breaks a little.

“Eli is going to take over for me, right? And he’s probably much better at this stuff than I am. Most of the time I just linger in the back of the room while you lead everything.”