The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures in Modern Dating(41)

"Earn what?"

"But I don't," he continued, ignoring my question. "I don't get it right. Do you have any idea how much I want to do this thing, even though it's too fucking late? How much I want to follow your orders and meet your expectations? And then how much I love it when you don't put up with my shit?"

"Oh, you enjoy that?" I pursed my lips in exaggerated annoyance. "I was unaware."

"There are so many things you don't know," Ben whispered, his scruff rasping over my cheek. "I'm not saying that like some kind of mansplainer asshole. My grandmother didn't raise me to be like that." He squeezed his eyes shut, blew out a breath. "But you don't know what it does to me when you come in here yelling orders with that little t-shirt and those jeans and the tool belt straight outta the 'Girls Who Hammer' edition of Playboy."

"The March '92 edition?" I quipped. "Or the August of 2011?"

He pressed his teeth to my jaw, growling. "Both."

"Mmhmm" was my only response. What was there to say? I'd already used my allotted sassy tokens for this conversation and I was notoriously bad when it came to handling deliciously hot, tense interactions like a normal human lady. Instead, I went for obscure humor (I mean, I'd been talking trig) and awkward comments or—even better!—straight-up silence.

Again, it was no surprise I was single.

"Magnolia?" he asked, pressing his body against mine. He felt glorious. The sweetest rock and hard place in the world.

I ran my hands up his back, settling on his shoulders. My fingers slipped under his shirt, introducing myself to his skin. "Yeah, Ben?"

"I'm going to kiss you," he said. "If that's not what you want, tell me now."

He kept one hand on my hip but released the other as he stroked my waist, my flank, my shoulder. When he reached my face, he dragged his knuckles down the line of my jaw before tucking stray hairs over my ear.

"Tell me now," he repeated.

I met his gaze, blinked. I didn't say no. I wasn't going to.

Ben kissed me like the sand was almost out of the hourglass and this moment was slipping away. Fierce, unrelenting, frantic. His tongue swept over mine in a command, an order levied just as sharp and exacting as any of mine. And I surrendered to him. I wanted it.

"I've needed this for so long," he murmured against my cheek. He pressed a kiss to the corner of my lips. It was sweet. Chaste, even. It was nothing like the heat pulsing between us but it was right. "Goddamn, it's been so long."

"Not that long," I replied. "We met a few weeks ago."

"Yeah and you came in here with your tits out, honey," he said, his hold on my hip shifting to my backside. "I almost followed you across the street that night."

"Almost, huh?"

"I stood there, staring out the door, wondering how a little thing like you could walk in and rock my entire world." Ben nodded, dragging his rough scruff against my skin. Up my neck, my jaw, behind my ear. Right into tingle territory. "I watched from the front door. After you yelled at me for forty minutes."

"No more than five minutes."

"I watched you go home, turn off the lights. Thought about you getting into bed in that loose shirt. Jesus. Held on to the doorframe so hard I yanked the damn thing off."

"Is that what happened?"

"It is," he replied with a laugh. "I'm going to kiss you again. The molding will wait. We're doing this now. Okay? Answer me this time. I want the words."

"Okay," I said.

I didn't have to solve for f this morning. Not when the focal length was pressed right up against my belly.





Chapter Twenty





My date was going to town on a waffle cone.

When I noticed this, two thoughts crossed my mind.

First, demolishing a double scoop of gelato should be an Olympic sport, and second, that tongue had skills.

"Not liking the pistachio?" Rob asked when he took a breath.

His lips were shiny. It reminded me of…mmm. Like I needed that reminder. Every time I was with Rob, my body felt like a harp string pulled too tight.

Just waiting to be plucked.

I hadn't been plucked in ages. And I did mean ages. I barely remembered how a good plucking went but I knew shiny lips usually meant we were off to a good start.

I glanced down at the small dish in my hands. I hadn't touched it. I tended to do that when Rob was around. Forget about everything save for the quiver of anticipation conveniently located right between my legs, at least for a few minutes. "Oh, no. It's fine. I like pistachio. Love pistachio. It's great. Like, if I had to rank the nuts, I'd put pistachio right up—"

Rob swirled his tongue around the inner edge of the waffle cone while he stared at me, and yeah, yeah this was what it meant for panties to fall right off. For a chick with hips like mine, that was some kind of magic.

"Stop that," I said through a groan. I reached for him, wrapping my fingers around his forearm. "You have no idea what you're doing right now."

I glanced around Hanover Street, expecting to find someone staring at this obscene display of tongue prowess. Perhaps a mother covering her child's eyes or a police officer writing up a ticket for public indecency. The only thing I found was pistachio gelato melting onto my hand.