Jill Shalvis - The Street Where She Lives

“You’re the best, Mom!”

Rachel shook her head and laughed. “Could you do me a favor and try to remember that?”

With a grin, Emily danced out of the room. A moment later they heard the front door slam as she left to catch her bus.

“I wish you hadn’t agreed to that,” Rachel said, sitting back down at the table.

“Why? After this Asada thing, meeting an online friend seems pretty tame, especially with us right there.”

“At a different table.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to her, Rach.”

“You’re not going to always be there.”

He stared at her bowed head as she calmly paid bills, and marveled that she never broke stride in writing her checks while she managed to dig in hard at his heart. “I thought we were okay.”

“We are.”

“So what’s the matter?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out?”

“I’m a guy,” he said so despondently she actually let out a laugh. “I need everything spelled out.”

“Well, we could start with Asada.”

Just the name on her lips swamped him with guilt. “Who’s dead as a doornail.”

“Not in my dreams, he’s not.”

Another nail in his heart. “Rach-”

“No. I’m sorry.” Tipping her head back, she stared at the ceiling. “It’s Emily, too. I just realized how much she’s growing up. I mean look at her, she no longer even needs me, and I’ve…I’ve just come to understand my show of strength with her is really just a farce.”

“You’re an incredible mom.”

“Thanks. It’s just…”

“Just what, Rach?”

“You’re out of here tomorrow.” She smiled sadly. “And I just might admit to missing you this time.”

He reached for her hand, took the pen out of it and linked their fingers. “I’m going to miss you, too. So damn much. Do you remember the other night? In your bed? Where we came together like we’d never been apart?”

“I remember.”

“You were into my touch, and God knows, I was into yours.” He pulled her up against him. “Neither of us can have what we really want,” he whispered, skimming his lips over her ear. “But wouldn’t it be nice if we could have one more night?”

“Ben-”

He opened his mouth and sucked the edge of her ear-lobe into his mouth. Her fingers tightened on his, her breath left her lungs in a whoosh. As he took his mouth on a tour down her throat, her eyes drifted closed. “Ben, what are you doing?”

“Getting you there,” he said. “To that one spot we can both share, where we can both be happy.”

“Mindless sex?”

“If that’s all we can have, what’s wrong with that?”

“Spoken like a true red-blooded male,” she said on a breathless laugh, but he had her, he could feel her softening beneath his hands, which were roaming her body now, could hear it in her breathing against his shoulder. She tilted her face a little, and when he gently touched his mouth to hers, she opened for him, nipping at his lower lip, then soothing it with a lazy swipe of her tongue.

As an act of acquiescence, it was an irresistible offer, an artless seduction.

“Mel’s here. She went shopping though.”

“Shopping is good.”

“This won’t change anything.” She sucked on a patch of skin at his throat, making his knees weak. “Nothing at all.”

“No,” he agreed, catching his breath when her hands ran down his chest. “Rach…” His eyes crossed when she boldly caressed his thighs…between them. He struggled to remember they were right in the kitchen. “Upstairs-”

Her fingers did the talking, outlining the erection he sported, which was threatening the seams on his jeans. His body arched slowly into her exploring hand. Stifling a groan, he caught her fingers, then lifted her in his arms.

With a laughing gasp, she held on. “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

“And I thought you were so adventurous.”

“I’ll give you adventurous in your bed.”

When they got there, he tumbled her to the mattress and followed her down, carefully pinning her arms over her head, holding her captive while he slowly and surely stripped her bare. Insinuating himself between her thighs, he looked into her beautiful eyes. Her beautiful, wet eyes. His heart cracked and broke. “Ah, no. Rach-”

“Love me, Ben. Just shut up and love me.”

Hadn’t he always?

“This has to last us,” she whispered. “After this…I can’t do it again, I can’t-” Her breath hitched. “I can’t keep watching you go-”

“Shh.” He bent his head for a kiss, filling his hand with her breast, indulging himself in her softness, the feel of her, the sounds that came from her throat, the taste of her skin… She was hot, ready and more than willing when he slid down farther, running his mouth over every inch.

The way she arched and squirmed and cried out nearly undid him, so he held her writhing, damp body still. If she so much as touched him, she’d take him right over the edge. He might have let her, too, if he hadn’t wanted more, so much more.

“Ben…please, now.”

“Now,” he agreed, and put his lips on her, there.

She bucked right into his mouth. Perfect. Holding on, he took her slowly, using his tongue, his teeth, teasing her with soft, little licks, and when she was mewling at him, he pushed her harder, switching to long, languid strokes that choked another cry out of her.

Her head thrashed on the pillow, her fingers fisted in his hair, pulling, holding him…as if he intended to go anywhere. “Come for me,” he whispered. “Come in my mouth.” He slipped a finger into her soft folds, coaxing the sweet spot on her body into a hard little bud.

“Don’t stop,” she begged him, shamelessly arching into his hand. “Please…don’t stop.”

“Not on my life,” he promised, and watched her fall apart for him.

When she’d stopped shuddering, he surged to his knees and managed, barely, to get on a condom.

Then, while she was still sighing with pleasure, he sank inside her. At the hot, wet feel of her surrounding him, hunger and desire mingled, skittering down his spine, pooling between his legs. Curling his toes. Moving his mouth to hers, holding her to him, he thrust all the way home, and she went wild beneath him.

Watching her, hearing her, with the taste of her still on his lips, he thrust again, catching her every whimper, her every breath, with his mouth. Her shudders rippled down her body to his. Another thrust and his body started to tighten and contract, too, pulsing with the need for release. Again. Then again, losing himself in her soft, wet heat, following her over, shattering into nirvana as he poured himself into her.

Dazed, spent, he stared down into her face, knowing the truth.

There was no doubt now.

He’d gone and fallen all the way in love with her.

Again.

RACHEL LAY SIDEWAYS on the bed, her head hanging off, and a heavy weight on her chest that turned out to be Ben.

With a groan, Ben lifted his head. “Did you ID whatever hit us?”

“Don’t worry, it’s on its way to Africa.” It came out of her mouth before she could think, and of course, she regretted it immediately. “Ben…”

“No. It’s okay.” He rolled to his side, putting a hand flat on her belly to hold her to the bed. His fingers danced over her skin, and even now, when she should be sated and limp as a noodle, he drew shivers with his touch. “I can’t change, Rachel.”

“Because you’re too stubborn? Or too old?”

While he pondered that, she pushed his hand away and sat up. Forcing her boneless legs to function, she got off the bed in search of her clothes.

Which, apparently, they’d lost far before the bedroom, as there wasn’t a single item to be found.

“Here.” He came up behind her with her robe, then turned her to face him, his eyes filled with so much pain she could hardly look at him. Try my pain on for size, she wanted to cry, but she fisted her hands rather than beat them over his chest. He was a grown man, and she wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t even ask. “I can take Em to L.A. tomorrow. You can catch an earlier flight out. Tonight, if you’d like.”

“I have one last night,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t take it from me.”

You could have an infinite number of nights if you’d but ask. Pride made her push instead. “I wouldn’t take a thing from you, Ben Asher.”

“But you’d see me go early?”

She stared up at him, the lie backing up in her throat, but it was far too late to save her heart. She’d long ago lost it-to the only man she’d ever given it to. The very man standing in front of her, stricken, lost. Alone.

Of his own making, she reminded herself. “Yes, I’d see you go early.”

“No,” he said in such a low voice she almost missed it. “But I’ll stay out of your way.”

“Fine.”

“Goodbye, Rachel.”

She didn’t answer, and Ben had no idea if that was because she didn’t know how or she didn’t care.

Once, he’d wondered if anything could hurt as much as losing her all those years ago, and now, as he walked out of her room, he had his answer.

This hurt as much. This hurt worse. His insides shattered along with his heart and soul, and as he entered his bedroom and grabbed his duffel bag out from under the bed to pack it, everything within him rebelled.

This trip had been temporary, he reminded himself. He’d wanted temporary, he lived for temporary.

But that had been before. Before he’d gotten to know Emily as a father should. Before he’d lived the actual little details of everyday life and found them not nearly as tedious as he’d imagined them.

Before, the urge to move around had consumed him, but somehow that urge had vanished, and in its stead came a different yearning all together. A yearning for a place to call his own. A home.

Too bad you’ve blown it, Ace. He started tossing his things into his duffel bag, knowing that by tomorrow night he’d be fifteen thousand miles away from the bed Rachel had kicked him out of.