Bennett (Bourbon & Blood #1) Page 9

  “What are you doing?”

  The intruder gasped, then jumped, bumping painfully into the corner of the desk. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, Beth!”

  “Elizabeth,” she corrected. “As of now, Mia has no idea who I am. She barely remembers anyone from high school unless it’s Loralei Crawford or Bennett Hayes. Speaking of which, I expect him to be sneaking in here anytime for another tryst so if you’re going to search, you better do it quickly and quietly. I heard you from the kitchen!”

  “Don’t take that tone with me!”

  “Mother, I took this position, working for a woman I can’t stand, just so you could find whatever it is that you’re looking for. But we don’t have forever.”

  “This is for all of us, Elizabeth! If this comes out, then your father is ruined… all of our chances are ruined!”

  Elizabeth eyed her mother coldly. “I can see why you and Samuel were drawn to each other. You’re just alike. Though I can’t imagine two people as cold hearted as the both of you ever managing a truly torrid affair. The night caregiver will be here at nine. That means you need to be gone by eight thirty.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Bennett took the path through the woods to Mia’s house. They hadn’t agreed to meet that night, but then again, they hadn’t agreed not to. She might welcome him with open arms or she might have gotten cold feet and push him right out the window.

  “At least I won’t be bored,” he muttered aloud. As he neared the backyard, he paused. Patricia’s caregivers were on a routine schedule, but that didn’t mean someone hadn’t stepped out back for a breath of fresh air or a secret smoke. When he didn’t see anyone immediately, he moved past the back porch and hooked his foot on the first branch of the oak tree.

  Sneaking around with Mia, meeting with her under the cover of night, it would be fun for a while. But he knew there would come a point when he wanted more. What would suck more than anything was that there wouldn’t be a doubt in his mind that she wanted it to. That didn’t mean she’d reach out and grab hold though.

  Mia was stubborn to the core and whatever it was that made her so convinced they couldn’t have anything more than a few stolen moments was something she wouldn’t share with him until she was damned good and ready. He had to admit that there was every possibility she never would.

  By the time he reached her window, he was slightly winded. Looking in, the lights were still on and he could see her curled up on the bed, her clothes askew and her hair a mess. An empty wine bottle was on the night stand. She looked like hell, like she’d done battle with the day and the day had won. But she still took his breath away, he stopped for a moment just to take in the sight of her.

  The window was cracked, so he didn’t knock, just lifted it slowly and let himself in. He didn’t approach her immediately, but took a seat on the impossible tiny bench in front of her dressing table. Hell, that’s what he thought what they were called, anyway. All he knew for sure was that it was covered with makeup and bottles of God only knew what all that undoubtedly cost the earth.

  On the bed, Mia stirred, rolling onto her back. Her eyes opened slowly and a slight frown turned her lips downward in a pout that was far more appealing than it ought to have been.

  “You’re being a creeper,” she said.

  “If I were truly a creeper,” he replied, “I wouldn’t have just been watching you sleep.”

  “Fair enough. I didn’t think you’d come here tonight.”

  He considered his answer carefully. Pushing her would only make their situation more difficult, but there was some nasty, bitter part of him that wanted that. The fight, the big blow up was coming. If they burned off a little steam now, they might avoid it for a while longer. “I wasn’t sure that I would either. But we both know this—whatever the hell is happening between us— it has an expiration date.”

  “So that means you just let yourself into my bedroom whenever you feel like it?” she demanded.

  “No, that means if you want me I’m here, and if you don’t… just say the word. You’re not the only one who can walk away.”

  “Is that supposed to bring me to heel? You threaten to walk away or throw the past back in my face and I’m supposed to just roll over and offer myself in apology?”

  They were both mad, and he was smart enough to know that it had very little to do with they’d said and much more to do with all the things that had been left unsaid between them for so long. “Goddammit, Mia! I’m not here to take potshots at you!”

  “That’s not how it feels from over here,” she snapped back as she sat up in the bed and attempted to right her clothes.

  Bennett knew of only one effective way to shut them both up and keep either of them from saying something that there was no coming back from. He stalked toward the bed, reaching her in two long strides. Without thinking, he gripped her upper arms and hauled her up until she was pressed against him. He took her mouth, claiming it, kissing her with all the anger, all the pent up fury and hurt from a decade of wondering just where the hell things went wrong.

  She kissed him back with the same intensity, with the same mix of anger and pain, but riding just below all of it, was the undeniable need for each other. It coursed between them like a fire out of control. Her nails scored his back through his clothes, even as he was tugging at her blouse, buttons popping and skittering over the floor.

  With her blouse torn open, he brought his hands up to cup her breasts. The hard points of her nipples against his palms only fueled the blaze. When she bit his lower lip, her teeth tugging at it less then gently, only to be followed by the delicate sweep of her tongue, he was lost.

  More roughly than he should have, Bennet pushed her back on the bed. Moving on top of her, he shoved her skirt up and gripped her panties, tugging them down over her hips, until they tangled at her ankles.

  It wasn’t just that he wanted her, it was that he needed her to crave him. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was just his own overblown ego, but he wanted her begging, and he wanted her to know that no one would ever make her feel the way he did.

  He felt her shiver beneath his hands as he gripped her thighs. He kissed her, his lips and tongue moving over skin so soft that it defied reason. Then he nipped with his teeth and felt her shiver beneath him. Her hand found its way to his hair, threading through the strands. But she didn’t push him away. She tugged him even closer.

  He inhaled deeply, drawing her scent into him. Then he parted the slick folds of her sex and settled his mouth over her. She tensed beneath him, her hips arching up as a shuddering cry escaped her lips.

  Bennett didn’t offer any reprieve. He tormented her relentlessly, his tongue moving over her heated skin, circling the hardened bud of her clit without ever quite making contact.

  Again and again, he offered more only to withhold the relief at the last second. She was burning under him, her body trembling and her breath coming in sharp pants. He slid one finger inside her, teasing her, offering just enough to keep her wanting more.

  Her hand in his hair tightened again, tugging forcefully. “Bennett, so help me God, if you don’t stop torturing me this way…” she hissed out between clenched teeth, unable to finish the threat.

  He didn’t smile, but it was exactly the outcome he’d wanted. Deliberately, slowly, he moved his mouth closer until his lips were poised above the most sensitive part of her. Drawing it gently between his lips, he sucked at her clit with long, slow pulls, savoring the taste of her and the sharp, shattered cry that escaped her. Flicking his tongue over her, he felt the first pulse of her orgasm, but he didn’t take that as a cue to stop. He wasn’t done with her, not by a long shot.

  *~*~*

  Mia shivered, her whole body convulsing with the unparalleled pleasure he was giving her. Bennett had always been good. Even when they were young and had more enthusiasm than skill, he’d always made sure she was taken care of. But this was beyond that. This was him proving a point and proving it well.

 
; He was relentless, driving her to that brink over and over again. Finally, he’d given her what she needed and let her coast over that edge. But that didn’t mean he was done with her. Every movement of his lips, of his skilled and wicked mouth was designed to wring every last bit of pleasure from her.

  He drove her over the brink again, one orgasm rolled into the next until her whole body trembled with it. Sweat slicked her skin and she was breathless.

  “Bennett, please… No more,” she finally pleaded. It was too much, too intense. She felt vulnerable and exposed, as if he’d activated every nerve in her body.

  He rose above her, unzipping his jeans, “This might be temporary—I might be temporary for you, but by God, Mia, you will never forget me or that we'll never burn for anybody else the way we do for each other.”

  Mia couldn’t think, couldn’t even attempt to respond to that. Her whole world had concentrated to the point of contact between them, to the sensation of his hard flesh sinking into her, branding her.

  His hands gripped her forearms, raising her hands above her head and pinning her to the mattress. He was making a point of her vulnerability, of his strength, but even then, he wasn’t hurting her. The part of her mind that was still even remotely functional, acknowledged that he never would, he never had. She’d been the one to cause pain in their relationship, for both of them.

  Tears formed, and she didn’t have the strength or even the awareness to blink them away. She was caught up in a maelstrom of sensation and emotion. The unrelenting physical pleasure and the driving need for more swirled with the regret and the abiding pain of knowing that whatever they had was finite.

  Thinking of that, of the coming moment when she wouldn’t have him anymore, Mia let go of thought altogether. She focused entirely on the present, on the feeling of his hands on her, of him moving inside her. The tension built again, coiling tight, and when it burst, he was with her, her name falling from his lips like a curse.

  In the aftermath, her body still shaking and neither of them able to move, they were both quiet. When he finally rolled off her, they both stared up at the ceiling for the longest time, until the stony silence stretched taut and uneasy between them.

  Finally, unable to stand it any longer, she rolled to her side and looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

  “What the hell are you sorry for? I’m the one acting like a fucking Neanderthal.”

  “For pushing you away. For pulling you close. For repeating the cycle a dozen different times before this is all done. I’m selfish enough to want you, and selfish enough to have you even when I know it isn’t good for either one of us,” she admitted.

  He looked at her and his expression was hard, unreadable. “It isn’t just you. I’m a grown ass man, Mia. I know we’re going to hurt each other. I could walk away right now if I wanted. But I’d rather have a little piece of you than nothing at all.”

  “You’re braver than I am. Half the time, I just want to cut and run now, before it hurts too much.”

  He sighed. “I don’t understand why… I’ve never understood. Is it just because my last name is Hayes? Yes, your dad fucking hates me, but what man isn’t hated by the father of the woman he’s sleeping with?”

  “Bennett, I—that’s part of it. He never let me date. I wasn’t sneaking around with you because of your last name. I was sneaking around with you because that was the only way I ever got to date anyone! But yes, you being a Hayes makes it more complicated.”

  “Mia, if you’d tell me, I could help you… whatever it is.”

  “You don’t want to know, Bennett. Trust me!”

  His expression changed, his eyes narrowing. “Mia, did he ever hurt you?”

  She laughed. “This isn’t a Lifetime movie. Unless you count manipulation and verbal abuse, no. He never laid a hand on me.”

  “That’s enough,” he responded, though his relief was evident.

  “You can’t fix this. You can’t take it to your shop and reshape the pieces to make them all fit. We have this… we have right now. And when my hand is better, and the money for round the clock care for mom runs out, then we go back to the way we were.” She took a deep breath, “Unless you want out now. If you do… I understand. I’m moody. Bitchy. Sometimes mean and hateful. There’s nothing here for you that’s worth the trouble.”

  He closed his arms around her and pulled her tight, her face pressed against his chest. “You’re wrong. Not about the first part. You are all of those things and then some. But you’ll always be worth the trouble.”

  Mia felt the tears threatening again. Rather than give into them, she focused on something else altogether. “You’re not keeping this shirt. It’s mine.”

  “It was mine first,” Bennett replied evenly, though she could hear the smile in his voice.

  “I had it for longer,” she protested.

  “We can fight about this all night, or…”

  “Or what?” she asked.

  “You could persuade me.”

  Mia sat up and looked at him, taking in the wicked gleam in his eyes and the grin on his face. This, she thought, was the flirting, laughing boy she remembered. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

  “I have a few ideas… but you’re still wearing too many clothes for most of them,” he paused. “For all of them, really. Honestly, naked is kind of the starting point.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Bennett was working on another one of Savannah’s crazy ideas in the smaller and much more cluttered work room at the back of Revision. Take this old and utterly worthless piece of barn wood, wire it for electric and add Edison bulbs, she’d said. He’d thought it would be the ugliest damn thing in creation, but now that it was done in the weird zigzag pattern she’d mapped out, it was kind of growing on him. He’d swallow his own tongue before he’d ever admit that to her.

  The heavy, reclaimed barn door slid open with a scrape as it moved along the track. Savannah walked in, Matt Crawford on her heels. Matt wore a frown and stared at the overly exaggerated movement of Savannah’s sashaying backside more intently than Bennett was comfortable with. Savannah had her own life, he knew that. But for his own peace of mind, he stayed as blissfully ignorant of it as possible.

  “It’s our very own little boy blue,” she said, being her usual smartass self.

  Matt glowered at her. “Your mother should have spanked you more often.”

  She looked back at him, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder in a way that was clearly, and deliberately, provocative and had Matt stepping back like he’d been sucker punched. Bennett wanted to choke her.

  “I prefer to get my spankings from other sources these days. You’re welcome to apply for the position,” she said.

  “I’m your brother,” Bennett said. “And I’m right here. In this room. Needing a massive amount of mind bleach. Fucking hell.”

  Savanna just rolled her eyes and left, calling out, “Don’t faint. You’re not wearing enough petticoats to cushion your fall!”

  Matt was still shaking his head like a fighter who’d took one too many punches. When he finally looked up, he stared straight at Bennett in horror. “When did that happen? When the fuck did that happen?”

  “What?” Bennett asked, moving the now finished piece to the one of the other work tables. Savannah would come in and determine what to price it at and his mind would boggle at the fact that an hour’s worth of work and a bunch of junk could fetch four figures.

  “That! That succubus who just walked out of here is not your baby sister.”

  “She is my younger sister. I don’t know that Savannah was ever a baby,” Bennett replied.

  “But pigtails, freckles and Hello Kitty backpacks do not turn into that!”

  Bennett turned back to him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m starting to be a little concerned about how much you paid attention to her then… even more by how much attention you’re paying to her now.”

  Matt raised his hands. “Look, you know and I know, t
hat I would never violate the code. Sisters and exes are always off limits. But, damn, you could have warned me!”

  Folding his arms over his chest, a better option than assaulting a police officer even if said police officer was an old friend, Bennett asked, “Is there some reason for this visit or did you just show up to make me uncomfortably aware of the fact that my friends routinely check out my little sister?”

  “Fine. You’re right. I am here for a reason… I didn’t find anything on Erica McCoy.”

  Bennett nodded, but he knew there was more to it than that. “You would have called if that was all you found.”

  Matt pulled his phone from his pocket and rolled his thumb across the screen before handing it to him. Bennett looked at the picture of Erica standing arm in arm with another pretty blonde, similar in age. It was the Derby apparently, or possibly the Oaks, judging by the size of the hats they wore. It was the background that caught his eye though. They were leaning against a large, black SUV and in the corner was what appeared to be the edge of a deer guard.

  “Who is she?”

  “I don’t know. Yet. All I could get from the post was a first name. I’m cross referencing it with vehicle registrations that match the one in the picture, but there’s more holes in this than a sieve.”

  Bennett rocked back on his heels, considering the options. “Lay it on me. What exactly what are we looking at?”

  Matt shrugged. “The car may not be hers. The car in the pic may not even be connected. Erica may not be connected… and, there may not even really be anything to be connected to. Still, I trust Mia. I trust you. And my gut says there is something up with all this. Too many loose ends that all point in the same general direction.”

  Bennett looked at the picture again. “She looks familiar, but damned if I can figure out from where.”