I was full and content (though, I would have been more content if I’d had a glass of Champagne) and we were both silent on the way home, but silent with Benny holding my hand against his thigh the entire way.
When we got in the kitchen, he turned me to hold me loosely in his arms, bent in, touched his mouth to mine, and said, “Go on up. I’ll be up in a minute.”
I did not argue this. I went up.
Now was now.
I would have preferred my first date with Benny Bianchi, where I’d begun to let go of what I was using to force a wedge between us, to end in a hot make out session. But from his words after his short kiss, I knew I’d be ending it likely cuddled in bed with him watching TV.
I’d take that.
After that day, I couldn’t take more.
And the good that was becoming awesome of all things Benny meant he likely knew that so he wasn’t going to make me.
“Babe, do me a favor?” he asked, eyes still aimed at the TV.
“Yeah?” I prompted when he said no more.
“Next time I take you out, a time when you won’t have a hole in you that’s healing, wear that dress.”
My lips curled up, but I said nothing.
He kept going.
“And I’m sure they’re sweet, but you got my permission to lose the panties.”
Of course, Benny Bianchi had the skills to spot the panties.
At that, I smiled inside but verbally muttered, “Whatever.”
He ignored my “whatever” and went on. “The shoes you can wear every day for the rest of your life and I’d be a happy man.”
Perhaps those shoes weren’t treacherous.
Perhaps they were miraculous.
I couldn’t hold back the smile at that, but I forced it to be small and trained it to the TV.
Five minutes later, when a commercial came on, Benny turned to me. He leaned in, lifting a hand to cup my jaw, and brought his face close to mine.
I looked into his eyes and held my breath.
“It’d make me happy right now I don’t have to sleep on that couch,” he said quietly.
I knew what he was saying.
It was too fast. Way too fast.
But after dinner that night, I didn’t care.
“So don’t,” I said quietly back. Though my voice may have been quiet, my heart was racing.
His eyes got soft, his face got closer, then his mouth was on mine. I only got a tongue sweep, but it was a tasty tongue sweep I liked a whole lot, before he pulled away.
Benny, not wasting an opportunity or time, shifted to slide under the covers. Then he shoved an arm under me and shifted me to cuddle into his side.
I slid my arm along his flat belly.
“Your checkup tomorrow is at ten,” he reminded me.
“Yeah,” I confirmed. I remembered.
“I’ll take you.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll also call Manny. After I bring you home, he and I’ll go get your Z so I can see to it.”
“All right.”
“Gotta get back in the kitchen, Frankie. You wanna call a friend to hang with you tomorrow night while I work?”
“That’ll be nice.”
He gave me a squeeze. “Right.”
After he finished squeezing me, his hand drifted up and into my hair. Then he started twirling a lock around his finger.
I don’t know why I did it, except that I wanted to do it and I didn’t get much of what I wanted, and a lot of what I wanted was right then stretched out beside me.
So I did it.
I turned my head and kissed his tee over his pec.
When I did, his fingers stopped playing with my hair and I felt his ab muscles get tight under my arm.
But when I settled my cheek back to his chest, his fingers started back up again and his body relaxed beside me.
“Nice night, honey. Thank you,” I told the TV.
“Yeah, baby.”
I gave him a squeeze and relaxed beside him, wondering if this was how it felt. If this was how it felt to get what you wanted for a lifetime. Have it stretched out beside you. The promise of it there all night so you’d wake up to it in the morning. The promise of it going to work the next day with you knowing it was coming back. A promise that would stay a promise—beautiful, forever there, beckoning, even as minute by minute it was being fulfilled, leaving you taking your last breath on earth knowing you lived a life filled with beauty.
If it was, it was weirdly serene.
You’d think something that magnificent would be about fireworks.
But if this was it, it wasn’t.
It was quiet, tranquil, comfortable.
Beauty.
Chapter Eight
You Grew Up
I felt arms tighten on me and the haze of sleep lifted, slightly.
When it did, I felt a whole lot more, and that whole lot more consisted of my body pressed snug against the hard frame of Benny’s, the warmth of our cocoon of covers, and the safety both created.
It was a strange feeling.
But I liked it.
I tilted my head back, opening my eyes, and I saw Benny.
Half asleep, my belly still did a dip.
“Hey,” he whispered, his voice deep, easy, and gruff, and right on the heels of the last one, my belly did another dip.
“Hey,” I replied.
“How you feelin’?” he asked.
Groggily, I did a mental scan and found that either Benny’s bed with his body in it was a miracle elixir, or the lateness with which I took the pill meant it hadn’t worn off yet, because I felt awesome.
“Good,” I answered.
“Good,” he murmured, and I tensed when he lifted his head and buried his face in my neck.
The tenseness lasted a millisecond before I felt his lips at my neck and my body melted into his, even as my hands slid from his chest, one pushing under his body, which he shifted to accommodate me so I could wrap both my arms around him.
“Gonna get up.” His voice rumbled against my skin.
“I’m gonna snooze,” I replied.
“Mm.” The soft noise he made rolled along my neck, causing a shiver to glide down my spine and my hands to move along the intriguing ridges and flats of his back.
His mouth glided up my neck and I felt his tongue touch the hinge of my jaw.
I closed my eyes and dipped my hands lower, going under his tee and shifting up so I could feel those ridges and flats, skin against skin.
That was better, by a whole lot. His skin was warm and soft, the ridges and flats fascinating.
When my touch came unhindered, one of Benny’s hands slid to my ass and cupped it.
I pressed my lips together to suppress my own “mm.”
Even so, his mouth came to my ear and he whispered, “Like your touch, baby, but like it too much. This’s gotta end now.”