Reason #13: He had a talent for creating edible body art.

Who knew?

 

Olivia wanted to regret opening her big mouth, based on the confused apprehension marring Ben’s face, but she was also glad that particular confession was out in the open. There had been a herd of elephants in the room ever since they’d started sleeping together—er—having sex. They hadn’t officially “slept” together yet. Those elephants were creating barriers, and when she and Ben had conversations like this, those barriers were palpable. The tension. The unease regarding past events.

She was ready to take a wrecking ball to those walls and get to the real Ben.

Wash the slate clean. Start fresh.

“Your turn.”

When his gaze lifted from the table, she still couldn’t get a read on him. “My turn for what?”

“Now’s the time to unload the baggage.” She downed the last of her rum and placed her cup upside-down on the table. “Let’s get it all out there.”

Was it her imagination or a trick of the light, or had his face just lost all of its color?

His Adam’s apple bobbed. Were those nerves? His lips parted several times as what looked like conflict washed over his features. “What more is there to say?”

“Whatever issues we had back then, let’s mow through them.” She steeled herself for any harsh truths coming her way. “Anything still lingering you’d like to share? Open forum here. No judgment. No hard feelings.”

He coughed out a laugh. “I told you, I was a jackass. That about sums it up. I was a misguided kid who didn’t know how to deal with all the tumultuous shit in his life. To me, you represented everything I wasn’t. Honor student, active in extracurriculars. Every teacher’s favorite student and every parent’s dream child.” His tone was self-deprecating. “I thought you had it so easy. That was enough to piss me off and make me think I didn’t like you. That was all it was based on. I didn’t know you well enough to form real opinions.”

Okay, fair enough. They had both been dealing with tough situations in their own ways, trying to survive high school and life, in general. He was remorseful now. If she was being honest, she’d stopped holding a grudge against him the night they walked down the beach from The Clumsy Clam. When he’d told her he was making certain that he would never end up like his father. He’d peeled back layers and years’ worth of insecurities that night. She’d had a hard time holding onto her anger after that.

“Do you think you know me a little better now?”

His gaze heated as it lowered to her mouth, to her chest. “I’m starting to.”

She barely resisted fanning herself with her paper napkin. Unfortunately, the bathroom on this boat was far too small for Ben’s giant body to twist itself into a compromising position. Besides, it wasn’t like Shelley wouldn’t know exactly what they were doing.

“Should I tell him to start heading back to shore?” Ben rasped in a gravelly voice that had her fingernails digging into her palms.

“Our time should be almost up anyway.” The sun had set, turning the water around them a mystical blue color. The purple clouds in the sky partially concealed the moon. “Think you can hold off another few minutes?”

Without taking his eyes off hers, he yelled in a stern, authoritative voice, “Captain Bird Eye, sir!”

His military-slash-sheriff voice?

Shelley’s head popped out of the cockpit. “Aye, lad?”

Ben’s gaze never wavered from hers. “Would you please drop us off on the beach in front of the Paradise Cove Bed & Breakfast instead of the marina? You know where that is?”

“Can do, boss.”

Olivia quirked a brow as arousal quivered through her lower half. “But we haven’t had dessert yet.”

Ben’s nostrils flared. “Wasn’t planning on skipping it.”

Mama Mia.

All her nerve endings sparked to life in an instant, making her body tingle with anticipation. He was leering at her—there was no other word for it—with so much heat, filthy promises being made without words. Those sensations made her feel alive. Ben made her feel alive. Whether they were fighting over a massage table or solving a murder mystery together or simply talking over grilled mahi, he had an effect on her that couldn’t possibly be replicated with anyone else.

But when he actually put his hands on her—or mouth—she was transported to another freaking dimension. She’d had her fair share of dates over the years, and the percentage of those dates that had led to the bedroom was very small. The Ben Effect was not the norm for her. And that told her it was something to hold on to. He was worth holding on to.

“Gun it, Captain!” she shouted.

Ben smirked.

Shelley belted out a laugh. “Copy ya loud and clear, petal. I remember that feelin’.”

 

The boat glided through the shallow surf and onto the sand in front of the B&B. When they were in ankle-deep water, Ben hauled himself over the side more gracefully than she would have expected and landed with the smallest of splashes. Olivia’s gaze was riveted on his arm as he reached up to help her out. His bicep winked at her, teasing her in that short-sleeved button-up that put all those sharply honed muscles on display.

“Coming, Liv?”

“That’s the plan,” she said to the hand she hoped would be gripping her headboard as he drove into her in T-minus five minutes.

He growled under his breath. “Woman, you’re asking for it tonight.”

“I really am.”

She nearly combusted when his hands molded to her waist and lifted her out of the boat like she weighed no more than a feather. God, all that strength was such a turn on. Especially when instead of quickly dropping her to her feet like he was struggling to support her weight, he kept ahold of her and slowly lowered her to the ground. Painstakingly slowly. He dragged her body against his front, allowing her to feel every hard, flexing inch of him. Her breasts were smashed against his pecs, her pelvis cradled between his hips.

“Get me out of public view, Liv,” he demanded harshly. “The sheriff can’t be caught fucking his woman through his clothes on a family beach. Even at night.”

His woman.

The possessiveness in his tone should have unnerved her. But she didn’t think two words had ever thrilled her so much in her life.

“Looks like my work here is done,” Captain Shelley chortled from the deck.

Ben finally set her on her feet in the sand and reached out to shake Bird Eye’s hand. The captain then tipped his invisible hat to Olivia, prompting her to blow him a kiss.

“Keep hold of each other, kids. And watch out for those grease balls!”

Olivia giggled as Ben helped shove the boat back into the water. Shelley reversed, turned the wheel, and punched the throttle with a banshee cry. When Ben turned back around, hands hanging at his sides as he stood in knee-deep water—

Talk about punching the throttle.

Oh, he had wicked, wicked things in mind.

The man was a veritable force of nature as he stormed through the water toward her. Those hands clenching at his sides, his eyes laden with so much need it nearly knocked her over. His hair was disheveled from the boat ride and if she had her way, it would be nothing short of wrecked by the time she was done with it. Everything about him in that moment was carnal. When he was mere feet away, he crouched down with a feral expression.

“What are you—?”

He threw her over his shoulder.

The sound she emitted as she appreciated the sight of his tight, upside-down ass was full of so much joy she could have slapped herself. Again, he acted as though lugging her dead weight across the sand and up the back porch steps required barely any effort at all.

“Keys,” he ground out in a menacing voice.

She shivered.

It was after nine o’clock, so the back door was locked, as was their policy. It took more effort than it should have to ignore her raging hormones long enough to dig through her purse. He was practically shaking with impatience by the time she held them up and he ripped them out of her palm. She fought back her laughter at the sound of the jiggling doorknob, followed by a long string of expletives.

“Having trouble, Sheriff?”

His hand connected with her backside.

She let out a high-pitched squeal, much to her embarrassment. He hadn’t just smacked her ass—he’d spanked her. She’d never been spanked before. And she couldn’t believe how much she liked it. At first, the contact was followed by a brief sting, which quickly faded. Now, the spot almost…tickled. In a good way.

He eventually managed to unlock the door and shoulder it open. After getting them inside and re-locking the door, he turned toward the stairs—

“My room.”

He stopped on a dime, his labored breathing sending his shoulders heaving rapidly beneath her stomach. “What about your aunt?”

“She’s in Orlando this weekend visiting a friend. She won’t be back until Sunday.”

With renewed purpose in his steps, he marched past the stairs and down the hallway. His footsteps were heavy and commanding, even in flip-flops. Very few men could still sound that intimidating in sandals.

Two table lamps were on as they passed the living room. She prayed there wasn’t a guest—

“Evening, Mrs. Fimmel,” he murmured.

May God smite me now.

“Captain on deck!” Lifting her head, Olivia watched Mrs. Fimmel drop her knitting and shoot to her feet, saluting Ben. “Captain Kirk, sir, the Enterprise is ready for its main voyage. The crew is awaiting your orders.”

“Very good, Lieutenant,” Ben said in that military-slash-sheriff voice. “Warp speed once we are on board.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ben continued on down the hallway without explanation.

“Umm.”

“Not a word.” He hiked her higher on his shoulder, effectively shutting her up.

Pivoting on his heel, he kicked open her door and darkness spilled out to greet them. He crossed the bedroom to turn on her bedside lamp, casting the room in soft light. When he deposited her on the bed, she was prepared for him to go savage and ravage her like his life depended on it. And she was poised to maul him right back.

God Almighty, what woman wouldn’t?

But he…backed away?

“Where are you going?”

His hooded eyes scanned her prone body. “Don’t. Move.”

He disappeared through the door and came back moments later with chocolate syrup in one hand and a bowl of strawberries in the other.

Holding up both items, his tongue ran across his front teeth. “Told you I never skip dessert.”

Yahtzee.

Her insides melted like butter, her body sinking further into the mattress. Before she could take more than two breaths, he tossed the syrup above her head, placed the strawberries down, and fell on her with a hungry mouth and desperate hands. And she didn’t just sink into the kiss. She was pulled under and drowned with the first flick of his tongue against her parting lips. That sensual swipe had her fingers stabbing into his hair, needing more. All he could give. The man could kiss. When he took a woman’s mouth, it was like she was the first and last woman he would ever kiss. He put everything he had into it, going as deep as he could, his tongue acrobatic and relentless. She could get lost in the way he kissed her for hours, days.

He tore his mouth away to attack her neck. “Knew yesterday wasn’t a fluke.”

“What do you mean?” The last word ended on a moan when his tongue found that spot beneath her ear.

He’s a wizard.

“On the fishing boat,” he clarified. “How frantic we were for each other. That bathroom was a fucking frenzy. Thought at first maybe it could have been a one-off. We were just horny for it.” His hands covered her breasts possessively, fingers splayed wide. “But this is no fluke. There’s no way once was enough. We barely did anything in that tiny ass bathroom. And there’s so much more to be done here. Isn’t there, baby?”

The words came unbidden from her mouth. “I hope so.”

Her lightweight skirt was wrenched down her legs on an irritated growl. “Keep saying shit like that and we won’t get to it all tonight.”

“At least some of it, though, right?”

Holy Lord, was she actually begging Ben for sex? How was she supposed to look herself in the mirror after this thing between them ended, knowing she’d asked her sort-of-former nemesis to sex her up dirty?

He pushed up to his knees and loomed above her, like a Greek god on his high throne. Which was appropriate because when they were together like this, Ben made her feel like a goddess. “Baby, we’re only going to get through a fraction of what I have in mind for you. But that fraction, Liv? It’s going to make you scream into your pillow so hard you won’t have a voice tomorrow.”

He released the top three buttons of his shirt, grabbed the back of his collar, and pulled it over his head. Hello, old friends, she mentally greeted his abs. We should hang out more, don’t ya think?

With that hooded gaze locked on her teal silk panties, he palmed his significant bulge and squeezed. “And you’ll damn well feel me tomorrow. If you don’t think of me every time you sit down, I won’t have done my job, and I’ll just have to make up for that oversight next time.”

Judging from his tone, she was betting he wouldn’t let her leave that bed until she was sensitive everywhere. Ben was thorough like that, she was learning.

The material of her top was more delicate than her skirt, which he surprisingly noticed and took extra care with. But once the material was clear of her head, ferocious Ben returned. His expression was untamed—wild—as he stared at the piece of clothing encircling her wrists. Something flickered in those dark eyes seconds before he yanked her up the bed by the tangled top restraining her hands. They might have joked about restraints, but she’d never actually used them in the bedroom. And instead of being uneasy with something she’d never done before, she was enthralled by it. Ben looped the shirt around her wrists and tied it through the wrought iron bars of the bedframe, securing her arms above her head.

Once he was done, he dropped his chin, gazing down at her. There was no denying the excitement in his eyes. “Too tight?”

She tested the knot. “No. But I can’t move either.”

“Perfect.” His cracked his neck. “Let’s see how much you trust me.”

She must have already trusted Ben more than she thought, because all she felt toward him in that moment was unwavering confidence. She knew he’d make whatever he was about to do so good for her. She could hardly believe it but…she was surrendering herself to him. Completely.

Being restrained added an extra thrill to her pleasure. Without the use of her hands, she had to rely on the other parts of her body to connect with his and get them both where they needed to be. He slipped off his shorts with one hand while the other dexterously flicked open the front clasp of her bra. Impressively, he did all of this while kissing the living hell out of her. The way he groaned every time she sucked on that tongue or drew on his lower lip made everything between her legs feel that much heavier. Like all of her body’s sensations were being directed toward that one location. Everything was centered there. He took her breasts in his hands, rolling her nipples between his fingers. Her back arched on reflex, presenting them to him in what she knew was a salacious pose.

“You giving them to me, baby?” He dragged his tongue down her cleavage. “Look how hard your nipples are. I saw these poking through your top tonight, all through dinner. Swear to God, if we hadn’t had an audience, I would have pulled these tits out and licked the salt air right off them.”

Her toes curled into the comforter. Her breaths were escaping in erratic pants, her brain short circuiting. When he used his teeth—because the man was the devil—her hips bucked hard against his.

He groaned. “Don’t you dare rush me, Liv. There are things I have to do before I lose myself inside that pussy that I know is wet as fuck. I see your panties. I feel that spot against my briefs every time you rub yourself on my dick. I know. And if you think it’s not taking every ounce of my control not to push your legs as wide as they can go and fuck you so hard that we break your goddamn bed, you’re seriously mistaken.”

With her breasts thoroughly loved and his words reverberating in her skull so loudly she couldn’t find her speech, he reached for the chocolate syrup. He drizzled a long line of it right down her middle, two circles around her puckered nipples, then continued with the line before stopping just above her mound. Having been stored in the refrigerator, the chocolate was cold and instantly had her in shivers. It contrasted the heat that was lighting up her insides, making the act feel that much more…titillating. He was concentrating so hard on his actions, like she was an art project he just had to get right. When he was finished, he tossed the bottle aside, sat back on his heels, wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs, and just…stared at her.

“What?”

His hand scrubbed down his mouth, over his chin. “I never thought in a million years I’d get to have you like this. I can’t believe how gorgeous you are.”

He didn’t seem concerned with getting a response to those momentous words. Reaching above her head, he grabbed a strawberry from the bowl. It was ripe and bright red, and the mere sight of it made her mouth water. But that was nothing compared to watching Ben dip the tip of it in the chocolate and swipe it through the line down her middle. She was wracked with sensation at the sight of his teeth biting into the chocolate-covered fruit, juice shining up his firm lips. It was like every erotic fantasy she’d ever had meshed into one.

Tantalizing. That’s what he was.

His eyes fell shut. “Fucking delicious. The only thing that could make this better is cream.”

“There’s some in the—”

“Oh, I think I can track some down on my own.” He said that while glowering at her panties. Like he hated them for blocking her most private area from his view.

Crawling back up her body, he repeated the action with the strawberry and the chocolate but lifted it to her mouth for a bite this time. Juices ran down her chin, which he promptly licked up and gave back to her with his tongue. He did the same with the chocolate in the corners of her mouth. Being denied the use of her hands added a whole other element to the foreplay. One that she never thought she’d revel in, but here she was. With flushed skin and hypersensitive areas that were begging to be touched.

After consuming several more bites of strawberry each, he shoved the bowl out of the way and traced one of the circles around her breast in a long, rapturous lick. She needed to clench her thighs together—it was all just too much—but his knees kept them splayed open, preventing any relief for her. Was he doing it to torture her? Wasn’t this torturous for him, too?

Then he took the flat of his tongue and dragged it all the way down that line along her middle. When he reached her panties, he deftly removed them without pausing his movements. His mouth dipped between her thighs, nipping at areas he knew would elicit a gasp from her.

She wasn’t prepared for that first lick up her slick folds. She should have been. Everything so far had been leading up to it. But she wasn’t. She was throbbing and needed penetration so badly she thought all the wires in her brain were on the verge of fritzing out.

He sucked on her clit once—once—and she was already in a frenzy.

His head lifted, though his gaze remained locked on her sex. “You can finish the strawberries. I’ve found something better down here.”