Make Me Bad (Page 13)

Your lacy panties, Madison. That’s what he wants me to leave behind.

My hand trembles on the book. I yank it away at the same moment I work up the courage to peek over at Ben. My mouth is hidden against my shoulder, but his is stretched into a mocking smile.

“I’m kidding.”

His amusement strikes a nerve inside me. He thinks I’m too chicken to do it.

“Close your eyes.”

His smile drops and mine widens tenfold.

“I said…close your eyes.”

He shakes his head in disbelief and lets his head fall back against the couch. Then he does as he’s told. I have an unobstructed view of his neck pulled taut, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows. It’s slightly unnerving to see a man like him in such a vulnerable position.

“I don’t hear clothes being removed,” he mocks.

I resist the urge to throw a book at him. With his eyes closed, it’d probably hit its target.

I sigh and then glance down at my dress, assessing the hem with fresh eyes. It reaches my knees. I’m going to be fine. No one will notice that I’m sans-panties when I walk back out into the living room. If anything, they’ll be too preoccupied with the fact that I apparently haven’t mastered the use of a cup yet.

“Can I open my eyes now?” he asks as soon as my hands reach up under my dress.

I panic. “No!”

“What are you doing?”

“Taking my panties off!”

He makes an inaudible sound and then throws his arm over his eyes like he needs extra reinforcement to keep himself from looking. Interesting. Just because he doesn’t want me doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be a little curious to see what I have to offer. That thought thrills me even though it shouldn’t. I truly need a boyfriend.

“Hurry up,” he says, rudely.

“Okay! I’m doing it.” My fingers hook on either side of my panties and I slide the lacy material down my thighs. If I’d known I would be leaving them behind, I would have worn one of my oversized cotton pairs, my period panties—the ones I put on when I’ve just about given up on life.

I push the silky material past my thighs and knees then step out of the panties as quickly as possible. I yank the The Divine Comedy off the shelf, stuff them inside, and whip the book closed with a loud clap.

When I glance behind me, Ben’s eyes are on me. Maybe he heard me close the book and knew it was safe to look…or maybe he was watching me the whole time. I’m too scared to ask.

“He’ll never find it,” he points out, standing up to walk over to me. “I don’t think he’s read a single one of these books.”

“You’re right,” I say, gloating. “It’s the perfect crime.”

He laughs and suddenly, there are voices out in the hallway, bits of conversation filtering into the room.

“She said she was just going to the bathroom,” Colten says, his voice angry and accusatory.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Jake reassures him. “She’s probably just—”

I don’t catch the rest of his sentence because Ben’s hand grabs my arm and yanks me across the room. There’s a niche carved out near the fireplace, mostly hidden from the door. There, Ben pushes me up against the wall and covers my body with his just as the door opens.

I’m holding my breath. My heart pounds against his chest like it would rather be in his body than mine. He still has his hand wrapped around my forearm but now it’s squashed between us, the backs of his fingers grazing the side of my breast.

My lips part and Ben presses his other hand over my mouth, apparently worried I was about to give us away. And oh god, maybe I was. His skin is on my parted lips. His scent is wrapped around me and it’s the first thing I take in when I finally remember to breathe, him and his exotic blend of spice and sandalwood. Having him press me against this wall and cover my mouth with his hand is as erotic as a first kiss, more so considering every guy I’ve been with has treated me like a porcelain doll.

His eyes implore me to keep quiet and then he turns his head, trying to listen.

“She’s not in here,” Jake says, sounding annoyed at having been forced on this wild goose chase.

“I’ve called her ten times,” Colten snaps, and then I hear the faint sound of a phone ringing through his speaker before my voicemail kicks in. “Hi, this is Madison! I can’t come to the phone right now, but if you need me, leave a message!”

Ben’s looking down at me again with mischief in his eyes.

He likes that he just heard my voicemail, likes the trick we’re playing on my brother.

To him this is all a big game, and that’s okay. It’ll hurt less when I eventually fall in love with him if I know there’s absolutely no hope he feels the same, and I am going to fall in love. I’m falling at this moment, with his piercing amber eyes locked on mine and my lips pressed to his palm.

My breasts heave and brush against his chest with every breath, his smile slowly fading into something more sinister. His expression is one I’ve never seen him wear. I swear it’s carnal.

“She’s probably back in the living room, looking for you,” Jake says. “C’mon, man.”

Colt groans then the sound of their footsteps echoes down the hall. They left the door open. We’re alone again, but we have to be quiet.

Ben removes his hand slowly and I breathe deeply, but he doesn’t move. His hips have left no room between me and the wall. I wouldn’t be surprised to find he’s flattened me like a pancake. If he wanted to cage me in, he could. His body would completely eclipse mine. My dress is hiked up to the middle of my thigh and his dark jeans feel like sandpaper against my skin. Abrasive. Raw. He follows my gaze down to where our bodies are touching and we must remember at the exact same time that I’m no longer wearing panties because he steps back and I leap to the side as if to get away from him, which is ludicrous because he’s already getting away from me.

He wipes a hand down his face, brushing his jaw like it’s giving him pain.

My cheeks are so red, I’m fairly certain they’ll stay that way permanently.

“Mission one: accomplished,” I quip, trying to lighten the mood. Jesus, I need to reach behind him and pop that window open, air this place out a little—or better yet, throw myself out of it.

Where do we go from here?

I can’t think of one witty or interesting thing to say. My nerves are still frayed from where he was touching me. I need a moment of silence for Ben and the fact that his glorious body was just touching mine, but there’s no time for that because he’s telling me to go first, to leave.

He sounds gruff, and I hate that I’m disappointed.

I should have realized—he wants to go back to the party. He has friends to attend to, women to kiss.

He lifts his chin toward the door. “I’ll hang back until the coast is clear.”

I nod and brush past him to exit. I try to rack my brain for some sendoff, some way to make this night as memorable for him as it was for me, but I come up empty. All I manage is a lingering glance over my shoulder before I turn the corner and flee.

9

Ben

It’s late and I should go straight to bed, but I’m not tired. I left while the party was still in full swing, but by the time I made it back out to the living room, Madison was gone and Andy was busy trying to woo Arianna. I pulled an ol’ Irish goodbye and headed home.

Now, I walk into my kitchen and flip on the light. I don’t use this room as often as I should, especially considering how much money I put into it during the renovation. An interior designer picked out all the countertops and finishes, assuring me my wife would love every detail.

Wife.

My stomach clenches at the thought and I swear my house has never felt quieter or more isolating.

I pull open my pantry door, looking for a late-night snack, and settle on the best comfort food of them all: sugary cereal. I pour myself a bowl, sit down at the oversized marble island, and try to ignore the hard object poking me in the ribs. I eat a few bites before I cave and reach into the inner lining of my jacket, feeling for The Divine Comedy.

Yeah, I stole it.

I guess I’m more of a criminal than I thought. First a misdemeanor, and now petty theft.

I slide it onto the counter in front of me and take another bite of cereal, staring at it. I didn’t steal it because I want her panties. I’m not going to take them out and do weird shit with them; I just couldn’t leave them in Jake’s house. They don’t belong to him.

Her book choice was interesting—I’ll give her that much. She compared me to Virgil the other day, and I suppose she’s continuing the inside joke. I wonder, though, if I open it on a whim, will my finger land on the circle of hell designed for thieves or the one reserved for lustful sinners? Apparently, I’m both.

I can’t believe I pulled her into that library. That was stupid, reckless. Her brother could have found us. Worse, I could have acted on the all-consuming urge I had to kiss her while he was in the room, when I was pressed up against her and her dress was nearly see-through, when I watched her wet her bottom lip and then take it between her teeth. Her green eyes were staring up at me with such sincere openness. I could have seen the outline of her soul if I’d looked hard enough. Every emotion was right there, brimming on the surface. She was afraid to get caught, but more than that, she was excited. Every part of her was begging for a kiss.