Page 30 of Rebellious Hearts

“Oh,” I said. “Okay. I’ll be ready.”

“I’ll send you the details.”

He could have just called or sent me the details without coming to talk to me in person. His eyes were filled with need, echoing the need that had settled in my bones after that languid stare all over my body, but Ben’s voice was as cold and controlled as always.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. If you need something, anything, you can call the front desk. I’ll cover whatever, so don’t hold back.”

The way he said it sounded sexy.

“Thank you.”

He nodded curtly, but he hesitated for a second, lingering, before he turned and walked away.

I watched him walk to his own door. His shirt stretched across his broad back, and his torso was like an inverted triangle, that muscular body narrowing to delicious hips in those pants that would looksomuch better on the floor.

Stop it!

God, what was I doing? Ben was a grump. He was rude and he didn’t care about people. There was no reason to be drawn to him. Nothing about him was attractive.

Except… that was a lie.

Everythingabout him was attractive.

Even the way he was grumpy with me, and still suggested that I enjoy myself.

Well, if he wanted me to enjoy myself, that was exactly what I was going to do.

I walked to the phone and ordered a bottle of wine. The concierge was nice enough to suggest a bottle of Ch?teau Margaux. He’d explained to me that it was an exquisite Bordeaux with a smooth texture. And since I was used to the cheap kinds of wine that came with a screw top, this was the epitome of pampering.

While I waited for room service, I ran a bath. The bath had jets, and I added bubble bath from the well-stocked vanity.

The wine arrived, and I poured myself a glass before stripping. The bathroom had a dimmer—adimmer—and I turned the lighting down low. I wished I had some candles to add to the mood, but this was incredible.

I sank into the bubbles with my wine and sighed as every bit of tension bled out of my muscles.

It was impossible to be tense in a bubble bath with the kind of wine that made me feel like I was floating.

After two glasses, my head was sufficiently light, and I felt like my blood had fizzy bubbles in it. I leaned back in the bath, letting the bubbles and the jets caress my body.

I flashed on Ben and his muscular back. God, he was so incredibly attractive. And I knew what that back looked like without the shirt, too.

The way he’d looked at me when he’d come to tell me about the meeting, in person, had been so hot. It had been the same kind of look he’d given me the night we’d met at Jester.

He’d been so off with me since we learned we had to work together, but there was no denying the heat in his stare earlier.

What was going on in his head? Why was he giving me such mixed signals?

Or maybe it was all in my head.

Still, thinking about the way he’d looked at me turned me on, and the way the water massaged my skin like a physical touch and the warmth…

I put my wineglass down and slid my hands over my body. I closed my eyes, and I let the memories and the water play over my skin.

The water made everything slick and wet, and I massaged my breasts.

I thought about the way his hands had felt on me, his skin rough and his hands large and strong, but he’d been so gentle. His lips had been hot and delicious, tasting me, his body hard against mine as he’d grinded against me. My skin tingled and my body ached for a release. I imagined him pushing into me, filling me up, stretching me, and I slid my hands down, pushing my fingers between my folds. I moaned when I touched my clit, already throbbing and sensitive with need. I stroked the little bud and my hips jerked. My legs fell apart and thewater splashed as I stroked myself faster. The memories played through my head and I gasped and moaned.

In my mind’s eye, Ben’s large body covered mine, his arms planted on either side of my head, and his cock stroked in and out of me. It wasn’t just his size—it was his girth that stretched me out and made me shiver.