Page 19

The Encore

My second date with Ben was a shining beacon getting me through the never-ending police interviews and sessions with Linda. Ben’s assistant, Catherine, had booked us seats for a theatre performance of The Taming of the Shrew in an amazing raised booth, champagne included. The stage was grand, with gold accents and cascading red curtains. I let my good leg rest against Ben’s, leaving my hand on his knee. He noticed, smiling at me and lacing his fingers through mine. They stayed intertwined the entire show. The costumes were spectacular. I laughed and cried, forgetting everything apart from the feeling of being there. I loved the theatre; anyone could forget their reality.

“Thank you, that was wonderful,”

I gushed as the final round of clapping subsided and Ben led me out, kissing the side of my head as we joined a small queue.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad to have taken another first, you should write a list so we can go through them all. I was more interested in watching your reactions than the performance half the time.”

We’d reached the bustling foyer when I heard a shout.

“Benji C?”

A well-dressed, broad, dark-blonde man strolled over and hugged him, taking me by surprise. They patted each other’s backs in that firm, manly way.

“I didn’t know you left the office these days, how’ve you been?”

the stranger asked, with a natural exuberance and well-spoken accent.

When they stepped back, I noticed how much Ben’s face had lightened.

“Good, cheers. I know, I’m sorry I missed the last quarterly. The figures look great, though. I can’t wait to see some of the projects finished.”

I made eye contact with the girl hovering awkwardly behind him. I noticed the bright glow she had in her cheeks, highlighted by a smattering of freckles. She was tall and pretty, very feminine, with mousy mid-length hair and a dainty, pointed nose offsetting hazel eyes. We smiled at each other, waiting for an introduction.

“You should see the library, Ben. I sketched out this middle apex that reminded me of the church in Bruges, do you remember? I’m hoping the light will have a similar effect. When it’s done, I’ll invite you to the opening, you should actually come this time.”

The mousy woman placed a tentative hand on the man’s arm. “Oh, this is Paige, my fiancée,” he continued, wrapping his arm around her proudly.

She seemed shy, but not displeased.

“Congratulations!”

Ben smiled, pulling me softly to his side. “Jenson, Paige, this is Ivy.”

“Nice to meet you both,”

Paige said quietly. “I’ve heard a few of the university stories.” She smiled, seeming to relax.

“Oh, I haven’t.”

I raised my eyebrows playfully at Ben. “Maybe you should fill me in. I just had you down as a swot.”

Jenson laughed. “I like her. I saw something on the news, but I didn’t realise you two were together. How are you both doing? Got time for a drink?”

He was easy to warm to, confident; like Ben, but more outgoing.

“Not tonight, mate, but I’ll message you and we can catch up.”

Jenson squinted at him. “Famous last words from you as always, Mr Carlson. Ladies, you’ve witnessed it.”

IvyMWhite Was lucky enough to see The Taming of the Shrew at The Bristol Theatre today. It was my first time seeing a live performance and it was amazing. The acting was incredible, and I particularly liked the costumes. I got so lost in it that my brain’s still talking in old English! I’ll be adding more classics to my reading list.

Bananabookworm22 2h

You look amazing, love your post!

BristolTheatre 1h

Thank you for coming, we are glad you enjoyed it!

ClassicsbuffOXO 56m

What have you read already? Happy to recommend some good pages to follow x

Conspiracyspotters 30m

See what I mean: no collarbone mole. This isn’t Maeve White.

BeauGInsta 5m

You’re right! I thought something was off about her, my husband is a doctor and he said she wouldn’t be going out like that.

Driving away in the slick Audi, the air remained easy between us.

“So, if you actually do have friends, what else do I need to know… Benji? I feel like Jenson just ruined your moody bachelor fa?ade.”

Ben chuckled. “I like Jenson. I have a lot of respect for him, actually. We met in our last year of uni, and although he could’ve gone and worked for his dad, who owns this big sportswear company, he chose to follow his passion for design and start his own architecture business. I’ve helped with a few bits before, but I just get too busy.”

“Busy?”

“Busy.”

“Come on, we’re always in my head. He seems nice. Why do you shut people out?”

Ben adjusted his grip on the leather steering wheel, watching the road. “When I get close to people, it makes me uncomfortable. To feel like I need someone, or want to keep seeing someone, scares me. So I flake on them. That enough psychoanalysis for you?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll discuss it with Linda.”

“Don’t you dare discuss it with Linda.”

He laughed. “Oh, look, now we’re home.”

I rolled my eyes as the car swung under the barrier. Ben climbed straight out as the engine stopped whirring.

“Linda would happily do you a session, I’m sure,”

I teased as he opened the door for me.

He leant slowly into the car, reaching over me, lingering as he pressed the release on the seatbelt, letting the cool metal slide along the tops of my legs. He smirked as I took a sharp inhale, feeling his warmth and enjoying his cologne. Before I could think to speak, he scooped me up, lifting me effortlessly out of the deep seat.

“Ben!”

I shrieked, laughing.

“You look tired,”

he announced playfully as I clung onto his shoulders, appreciating how solid they were as my nose grazed a shadow of stubble on his neck.

“Ever the gentleman.”

“Gentleman?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes. I told you – I see you, Benji.”

I tapped him on the tip of his nose. “You’re not as broody as you think, you know.”

“Careful,”

he growled as he thrust me up in his arms, adjusting his grip.

I laughed. “Aww, see, so sensitive. I’m definitely texting Paige.”

My feet thumped down as he practically dropped me into the corner of the lift. I went to adjust my balance but he gripped my hips, pressing me back into the cold glass, holding me there. He reached to press the button without taking his eyes off my lips, looking like he was about to devour me. The excitement sparked through my whole body, humming as he rolled his warm torso into mine, crashing his lips greedily to my mouth.

“What if I don’t want to be a gentleman with you?”

he rasped between kisses.

“Ben,”

I moaned, instantly lost to him, lurching forwards and gripping the back of his head. My heels lifted as the lift lulled to a start.

“It’s too easy to get you to moan my name,”

he breathed. “Almost takes some of the fun out of it.”

My dress rose up around my hips as his chinos ground into me, but when I reached down, he pinned both my hands above my head, snaking his fingers into mine. It did things to me. I tried to pull them away and he just gripped harder.

“My mistake, I—”

His tongue roamed over mine as I instinctively pressed my knee into his leg, trying to balance and slide it up.

“Shh.”

He nipped at my lip, springing backwards abruptly as the doors opened.

I was left utterly flustered, with a bunched-up dress that I was desperately trying to smooth down as he strolled out of the lift with a huge grin on his face.

“Hey!”

I called after him, fumbling forwards, not missing the misted handprints on the glass.

He stood by the front door, holding it open, acting completely blasé.

“What rules do you have for second dates?”

he asked, enjoying himself far too much as I walked past him and into the apartment.

I looked back, unsure what he might do next, but excited all the same.

“Not being easy,”

I smirked, heading for the bathroom as I heard him lock the front door.

Alone, I paused to catch my breath and shake off some of what was bubbling inside of me. I ran my own fingers over my collarbone, savouring the memory of his touch. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, before dashing on a subtle flick of new mascara. I took my time letting the cold water run over my hands, patting them against my neck. When I felt I’d composed myself, I walked back out, looking for Ben whilst pulling down the half of my hair I’d pinned up, curls falling and tickling my exposed décolletage.

“I know what you’re doing,”

his calm, deep voice echoed from his bedroom.

I reached back and started loosening a button at the back of my dress, flicking my hair over my shoulder. “Getting water?”

I suggested, as coolly as I could muster, attempting to beat him at his own game, a dangerous game, no doubt.

He stood there, waiting for me to go past, his eyes smouldering.

I burst out laughing. “Okay, you win, but only because all the tension will disappear as soon as I try to hobble a glass of water back.”

He smirked. “I’ll get you one, hold on.”

My teeth grazed my top lip as my eyes followed him to the sink. When he walked past, he intentionally brushed himself against me, taking the glass into his bedroom.

“Er, wrong way,”

I said, watching him disappear round the door.

I looked around for no reason at all, trying to figure out what to do. I couldn’t have sex with him, of course I couldn’t. The site had taken so much from me; not this, not with him. I knew the odds were that this would happen, one way or the other; it had been brewing since Rose Cottage, whether I wanted it to or not. Against my better judgement, here we were. I wasn’t going to waste it dragging around a cast. Plus, that was all this was, sexual tension. Once that was gone, it would just be us, and ‘us’ couldn’t work. I didn’t work with anyone.

“You coming?”

he called through the semi-darkness.

I took a few tentative steps forwards. I hadn’t really been in his room much. The oak bed was even bigger, higher, than the guest room’s. It had a fluffy white duvet and pillows. There were three white walls – one dark green behind the bed’s headboard. Ben was unbuttoning his shirt, steadily exposing his tanned chest. It wasn’t overly muscular, but you could make out the shapes of his abdominals. He draped his shirt over the washing basket as I shamelessly watched.

Pausing, he took steady steps towards where I was stood, uncommitted, in the entrance, my hands gripping each other behind my back, one restraining the other. He leant his hand to the wall above me, leaning in, running the tip of his nose up the curve of my neck. I gasped, and my hands tried to break free, wanting to explore his chest.

I spoke softly. “If I come in, I might regret it.”

The control ebbed away as more parts of him touched more parts of me.

He drew back slowly, looking at my lips again. “I understand.”

His mouth pressed hard into my neck, sending waves rushing through me as I desperately swallowed another moan. “There are so many things I’ve wanted to do to you. It will make it all the more enjoyable… waiting.”

He kissed me again just under my ear, the tip of his tongue flicking lightly. Ben was playing me like an instrument, toying with me, sensing my body reacting beyond my control as I let out a heavy breath. I couldn’t let him, I reminded myself, for so many reasons – least of all because I couldn’t be easy for him, I wouldn’t be. I gripped my hands together, feigning control, repeating in my head cold thoughts, you’re in a cold bath.

“We’ll have to do it a few times, because after the first time, I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself,”

he continued, even the breath from his words caressing me sensuously.

My chin tipped up, exposing more of myself.

Iceberg, you’re on an iceberg. Naked. No, not naked! Lots and lots of clothes.

My legs pressed together, twisting against each other, rubbing. “Fucking tibia,”

I muttered, reminding myself of my predicament.

“You realise,”

he whispered, “I only need the very top of your legs.”

He bent down, catching me by surprise again, looping an arm under my hips and lifting me as my hands flew to grip his back, the feeling of his warm skin delicious against my palms. Pulling the duvet down with one hand, he slowly laid me onto his soft bed, pushing my dress up, gripping the top of my tights, easing them down my legs. I flinched as the elastic waistband caught on my thin knickers, nudging them down. He looked at me wickedly, slowly taking two fingers and running them along the hem, daring to breach the boundary as my skin became more and more sensitive. My hips arched up into his touch as my breathing grew heavy, the feeling of his large hands wrapped around my hip bones dizzying.

“You’re sure? You’re sure you don’t want me to go any further? Because I would really, really like to see how you feel, see how I can make you feel.”

I swallowed, rasping out a desperate reply. “Mm.”

Ben ran two fingers over my arse, gripping the elastic of my knickers and pulling them higher. I felt the lace press exactly where my body wanted it to, sending my eyes rolling, my knees gripping his firm torso.

His grin was filthy. “I know you don’t want to have sex, but you don’t have to deny yourself completely. I could just, make you feel good?”

His fingers were firm and rough as they ignited my skin, continuing to pull down the tights; contrasting against the tender feeling of his soft lips as he began peppering my legs with kisses. His attention was so focused, so intense, like he was cherishing each new part of me.

Locked in a freezer, a gross one, a meat freezer, no sausages, I chanted to myself as I felt his tongue trail up the inside of my knee.

“Ben, I want to, I—”

“Yes?”

I took a focused breath.

Thankfully, as he carefully pulled my tights over the cumbersome cast, the awkward reality of it cooled the building heat in my thighs, as good as it felt, as desperately tempting as he was.

“You can trust me.”

He watched as I licked my lips. “We can stop at any time, Ivy. I will stop, you just have to say the word.”

His fingers were running touches across the sensitive patches behind my knees, easing my legs apart.

“I don’t trust myself, though,”

I admitted. “I won’t want you to stop.”

I released the grip I apparently had on the duvet as he tossed the tights into the basket, turning back to take my hands and pulling me up into a sitting position. I took in his brown eyes as our faces drew close, his serious expression, his flushed lips, as he lifted my dress over my head easily. My hair fluttered down, tickling the skin of my back.

“Alright,”

he murmured, shifting back slightly, giving me space.

“You always smell so good,”

I breathed as I slid my hands to his waist, unable to stop my fingers from gripping his leather belt, unfastening it.

I felt him tense underneath my touch; heard him groan as he took my hands.

“That I can’t take,”

he protested, stepping back to slide off his trousers.

I felt a delicious tinge of satisfaction at seeing his shape again.

Steadily, gently, he knelt on either side of my legs, laying me down from where I was sat, gazing at me reverently. I watched as he trailed fingers over the bumps of my ribs, bending forwards slowly to kiss the ugly patches of bruising.

“Does it still hurt?”

he asked in a heartbreaking tone, reminding me exactly why we couldn’t do this.

He looks at me in my underwear, and that’s what he thinks?

Linda’s words crashed into my mind: survivor, victim, sexual assault, rape. I was suddenly cold. How could he want me like that; what did I have left to give that hadn’t been taken? Sam was a distraction from it all; that was how I needed it, intimacy. When my cold reality came back, I felt dirty.

“Not really.”

He threaded his arm underneath me, pulling me to where the pillow was.

“I adore this green set, it suits you,”

he murmured, referring to my underwear.

Laying himself behind me, he pulled up the duvet so we were cocooned together in a puff of heat. He began softly stroking my hair away from my neck, exposing it to the cooler air. But my thoughts were still raging. Ben was a drug and I kept wanting more; I wanted him to touch me and kiss me and not stop… so I didn’t think. So I could keep these feelings locked up. His tenderness was shattering and I had no idea how I was ever supposed to explain that to anyone in a way that made sense.

“I’ve wanted you in my bed since you started staying here,”

he whispered, before turning to switch off the light, wrapping his arms around me.

The smell of his bed and warmth of his body enveloped me.

I couldn’t find the words to respond.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet, Ivy. Are you okay?”

he asked after a moment, shifting our bodies so he could see my face.

“Yeah, sorry, just tired. Thank you, for tonight, Ben. For everything,”

I breathed, nestling into his body.

I felt him smile as he nuzzled into my hair.

“Any time.”

I woke up first as the light broke through a gap in the green curtains, white shapes dancing across my eyes. We hadn’t moved; Ben’s arms were still laced around me, his breathing deep and gentle. Sleeping in his arms had healed more of me than I could describe; parts I had surrendered to pain so easily before.

When I reached slowly for the glass of water on his bedside table, he instinctively pulled me back to him.

“Just a little longer,”

he whispered, tightening his grip.

I reached for the glass all the same and sipped the cold water, placing it back down before returning happily to the warm patch of bed.

“Will you come with me today, to meet Susan and Derek properly?”

Ben pushed himself up onto an elbow, my body rolling under him as the mattress dipped.

He looked surprised, leaning over me to drink from the water glass. “You want me to come with you?”

I smiled at him, at our closeness. “If you don’t mind?”

He looked at me like I was something valuable. Like, in that moment, I meant something to him. Like I meant something at all.

“I’d love to.”