Arsen: a broken love story, стр. 10

Slutty Cathy always shows up at the most inopportune moments.

I barely register leaving the house and making our way to his car. I’m now sitting on the cool leather seat and thinking about holding hands and slutty voices, when I sense Ben’s eyes on me. The way he’s staring at me…

Suddenly the car feels hot, too hot. I watch Ben following the movement of my legs as I rub them together.

“Screw it. I can’t wait any longer,” Ben says.

He grabs the back of my neck forcefully as he pulls me on top of him. I knew he was strong by looking at the muscles on his body, but not like this. As I straddle him, our lips touch for the second time and it’s like the air is being sucked out of me slowly, deliciously, tenderly. His lips, soft and sweet, kiss me as if mine are made out of glass. He’s gentle at first, but when our tongues touch fire explodes inside of me, inside of him, inside of both of us.

His kiss isn’t sweet anymore. It isn’t tender. It turns into an aggressive, rough, hungry, hard, teeth clashing, tongue against tongue kind of kiss.

And, I love it. Oh, how I love it.

When our lips part, we’re left panting and trying to catch our breath. As we look at each other in the little space we have allowed to come between our bodies, I notice the way our hands are tangled in each other’s hair, fisting handfuls of it, pulling our faces closer, clutching as if we are the other’s life support.

I can’t believe it. I can’t. This just doesn’t happen in real life.

“Fuck, Cathy…just like that you make me lose control, huh?”

Gulping, and trying to untangle the thoughts coming from two different directions in my body, inside my head and inside my panties, all I can manage to do is shake my head and grin.

Ben laughs, plants a quick kiss on my lips and moves me off his lap. Once I’m back in my seat, he rests his hand on my knee. “I’m sorry about that kiss. I was planning to take my time tonight…go slow, you know…but when you came down wearing that sexy dress, showing those killer legs, and looking so fucking sexy and beautiful…I kind of wanted to jump you right then and there, even with your dad watching us, but I figured he wouldn’t let me take his daughter out again. And after that kiss,” pausing, he grabs my chin so I’m facing him, “Look at me, Cathy…I want to see your eyes.” Applying slight pressure to my chin, “I need to see you again.”

Blushing, I’m so glad that the car is dark.

“But the date hasn’t really begun…how do you know you will want to see me again if we haven’t even started the first one?” My voice is small. I’m afraid because I so want his words to be true. I like him. I like him a lot.

Letting go of my knee, he grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth, planting a kiss inside my palm. “I just do. I’m sure of a few things in life…that no matter what you do, death will always catch up to you. You’ve got to work hard to pay for life, party harder to enjoy life, and love hardest to live life, and now, you.”

“Oh.”

DING-DING-DING.

Have I just won the lotto?

When we are in Serendipity, a group of drop dead gorgeous girls approach our table to ask him if he is Benjamin Stanwood, the ex-quarterback for the University of Florida. Blushing a little, Ben says he was, making the girls squeal and ask him for his autograph. As the girls flirt with him, he reaches for my hand. They all look at me as if they’re wondering how the hell a plain Jane has ended up with a hunk.

I’ve been wondering the same thing the entire night.

Ben clears his throat, “Sorry, girls. Here are your autographs. Thank you for coming over and saying hello. It’s really cool of you, but I’m trying to impress my girl…and so far it isn’t working.”

The girls turn to look at me, anger and disbelief written all over their faces. I have never been the kind of girl to gloat over others when something right goes my way, but in this moment some hidden attitude-ridden part of me wants to stand up, give them my best Queens bad girl fuck you look, snapping my fingers in their plastic faces and say, “Suck it, Bitches.”

But I don’t.

Instead, I grip Ben’s hand harder. His eyes meet mine and what I see in them elates me.

The rest of the date passes in a blur. I don’t remember much except for the softness in his eyes when he looked at me, his sweet but flirtatious smile every time his hands “accidentally” grazed my butt or boobs, the very pleased and smug expression on his face after every kiss we shared left me dazed and unfocused. But the thing that I remember the most is the way Ben never let go of my hand, almost as if he owns it or like it belongs there.

After he drops me off and kisses the hell out of me, I make my way to my bedroom, walking like a living zombie. The crazy beating of my heart has to be proof that I am still alive, right?

Lying in bed, I can’t remember getting out of my clothes and into my pajamas or removing the little make up I had left from the hot and heavy make out session we’d just had outside my house in his car. My lips feel numb, yet tingly like they are on fire. They are so hot to the touch; it’s like I’m burning from the inside out.

My breasts are sore from his hands, my nipples still hard, and I’m swollen and raw in between my legs from his fingers, but it feels good.

So very good.

My body is humming with excitement because it’s alive again. It has been so long.

Staring and looking at the shadows playing on my ceiling, I try to will my eyes to close, but I can’t. The images of him touching me, whispering what he wants to do to me, what he is trying hard to refrain himself from doing…the feel of his erection in my hand…

I’m still in a daze when I hear my phone ringing. Answering without looking at the caller I.D., I smile when I hear his voice.

“Hi, Cathy.”

“Hi.”

“I miss you already,” he says huskily.

“I...I am…me too.”

“You’re what?”

“Hmm…not sure I should say it.” I whisper.

“Damn, Cathy. I’m still in a fucking daze. I have been since we kissed back in my car when I first picked you up. Haven’t been able to shake it off. And I don’t want to.”

I hear him sucking in his breath, then releasing it. “I can’t close my eyes because when I do all I see is you. When I breathe, all I smell is you. And I would much rather have the real deal next to me than a dream. When can I see you again? I promise not to jump you like a starved man...but man, Cathy, do you have any idea of the things you do to me? Of the things I want to do to you? What I almost did to you in my car?”

“Yes.”

“You do? Well, shit.”

“Shhh…let me talk. I know how you’re feeling because I feel the same way. I’m feeling every single thing you just mentioned…just more,” I say.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I’ll be damned.”

Silence.

“Cathy?” Ben asks.

“Yes?”

“I like you. I really like you.”

“I like you, too.”

“Fuck, I want to…no, scratch that, I need to see you again.”

“Me, too.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“And the day after tomorrow, and the day after that?”

“Yes, and yes.”

“Cathy…”

“Ben…”

“Night, beautiful girl. And thank you for going out with me.”

“Night, Ben. And thank you for asking me.”

“Do we really have to hang up?”

“Yes! Night,” I say, giggling.

Closing my eyes, I grab my pillow and scream into it as I let myself believe that this magic night wasn’t a dream.

I can still remember being able to feel the smile on my swollen lips as I begin to fall into a deep sleep.