Make Me Bad (Page 42)

I’m beginning to realize that the superhero mantra “With great power comes great responsibility” might apply to sex appeal too. We’ve hit the crucial point in our conversation where I either need to turn and head back to Eli and Kevin or somehow work in that I have a boyfriend. It feels very much like Pete is hitting on me, and when he not so subtly checks me out, that point is made even more clear.

No. Don’t be silly.

Not every man wants you. Just Ben. Just Ben who is now lying to you and disappearing into the night…

With that thought, I turn back to Pete and smile.

“So, do you live around here?”

Apparently, he’s Arianna’s younger brother and he’s visiting from Dallas. He’s just down for the weekend, and we talk about the places he should visit while he’s in town.

“You’ve been to the beach already, right?”

He laughs. “Yeah, you know, Clifton Cove being a beach town and all…”

I wave away his sarcasm. “Right, okay. Ignore that suggestion. There’s a cool farmers market on Saturday mornings. This time of year, I bet they have some good produce.”

He looks at me like he doesn’t quite understand what I’m saying.

“How old are you?” I ask.

He grins. “22.”

I nod. “Right. Okay, so no farmers market. Probably forget about the train museum too. Unless—wait, are you into that kind of thing?”

His eyes narrow playfully. “Y’know, not really. It’s weird, but I’m not a big train guy.”

I chuckle. “Right, well, probably just stick to the beach then. Women in bikinis, sun, waves—you can’t go wrong.”

“Do you like going to the beach?” he asks, taking a step closer.

WHOA.

This dude wants to see me in a bikini!

I’ve officially crossed into the red zone. I feel bad now. Am I cheating?! Is this cheating!?

I open my mouth to quickly blurt out an apology followed by I have a boyfriend whom I very much love please stop looking at me like you want to kiss me because I will throw my drink in your face, but I never get the chance.

There’s a commotion near the front door. People are yelling, “Surprise!”, which is odd, because this is definitely not a surprise party. I think people got confused when they arrived and Andy wasn’t here.

Through the large back window, I watch as Andy steps into the living room and laps up the attention, more than happy to have everyone focused on him.

“No way! Guys, I’m totally shocked!” he shouts, accepting hugs and felicitations.

Apparently, he’s also forgotten this isn’t a surprise party.

I stand rooted to my spot as Ben walks through the door behind him. If everyone rushed in to greet Andy, they do the opposite for Ben. The crowd parts and stares. The special guest has arrived.

It’s like he’s stealing the spotlight without even trying. It’s his own damn fault, really. He shouldn’t wear that black shirt. With his brown hair and tan skin, it’s just too much. Jesus, wear pink or purple or just go without clothes altogether. At least then we’d all pass out and be put out of our misery.

Ben nods to a few friends but brushes past the people who step into his path, trying to stop him for conversations. His eyes are sweeping the room, looking, searching. My heart thunders in my chest and I nearly use Pete to block myself from his view, but it wouldn’t do any good. This is my life. Ben is my boyfriend. I’ll just have to get used to the overwhelming emotional grenade he sets off inside me by simply walking into a room.

When it’s clear that I’m not in the living room, he turns for the kitchen then pauses and glances out the window. The invisible rope tied between us pulls taut when he glances my way. We’re half a back yard apart and it feels like he just ran a finger down my spine.

“Do you know him?” Pete asks, turning to look between Ben and me.

I forget to answer him as Ben winds his way through the party and steps outside.

I forget to blink. I don’t think I’ve taken a breath since he walked in the front door.

He walks straight to me, confidently, boldly, and bends low, kissing my cheek, whispering next to my ear. “Sorry I’m late.”

I squeeze my eyes closed and nod.

When he steps back, it’s only far enough for him to loop his arm around my waist and tug me close.

“I’m mad,” I say quietly.

He glances at me. “Yeah?”

I have a frog in my throat that prevents me from continuing, so I nod. Yes, mad. Why again…? Ben’s shirt is so black and his arm is so strong.

“Because I lied to you?” he offers.

YES.

I jerk my gaze to his amber eyes and he can’t hide his smile. He’s not even pretending to look worried about my supposed anger.

“I’ll tell you all about it.”

Then his gaze flicks to my mouth and I think he wants to kiss me, but Pete’s still standing there, staring at us. “So, I take it you’re not single?” he asks, laughing good-naturedly.

Ben arcs an eyebrow at me as if to ask, Well?

“No,” I say, keeping my attention on him. “I’m not.”

Pete shrugs. “Figures.”

When he walks away, Ben turns and steps in front of me, pushing me back. The garage is behind us. The door is closed, but Ben clearly isn’t going to let that stop him. People are definitely watching us. If I looked up, I’d find faces pressed to the windowpanes in curiosity, noses flattened like pigs.

“Where are we going?” I ask nervously.

He reaches behind me to open the door and then he pushes me backward. “Step up. There’s a stair.”

He mostly lifts me up and into the cold, dark space.

A light flickers on and the door closes behind him. There’s a car parked inside and a bike leaning against the wall beside some tools.

Our footsteps echo against the concrete floor as he pushes me deeper inside.

“I’d like to apologize for my absence,” he says, his finger looping through my jeans so he can pull me close.

“Where’d you go?” I ask, arms crossing over my chest.

The skin around his eyes crinkles, but he doesn’t smile. “I’ll tell you after you say you forgive me.”

I shake my head and lift my chin. “No.”

He hums and reaches for my silky tank top, twisting the material in his hand. “It appears we’re at a stalemate.”

“Guess so. Maybe I should go back out there and chat with Arianna’s brother.”

I don’t mean the threat. There’s not enough heat behind it. He glances down to the floor, smiles, and then his eyes meet mine again. He’s not jealous. He’s amused. He thinks I’m cute. He wants to bop me on the tip of my nose.

“That’s it, huh? Now that I’ve turned you into the real Madison—the bad Madison—you’re just going to up and leave me?”

I have to bite down on my smile. I shrug and look away. I even manage to look at my nails as if I’m bored. It’s only half convincing at best.

I arch a brow. “Maybe so. I’m a hot commodity now, Ben. That guy wanted to take me to the beach. I think he was picturing me in a bikini.”

He steps forward and grips my waist, brushing his hands up under my tank top. His thumb drags across my bare navel. My stomach dips in anticipation and there’s no fooling him now. He just revved my engine and he knows it.

“Are you going to tell him about all the bad things you like to do?” he asks, dipping low and whispering the next words against the shell of my ear. “Taking your panties off at parties? Leaving them behind for anyone to find…”

If I were standing in front of glass, my breath would fog it twice over.

He pops me up onto the workbench behind me. I’m blinking over and over, trying to keep up. How does he do it? Seduce me? Slay me? There’s no point in even trying to fight it.

“Speaking of bad things,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck as he slowly pushes his hands higher. Big, rough palms glide across my skin. When he grazes the edge of my bra, I shudder and lose my train of thought.

“Madison,” he says, urging me to continue.

Huh? What day is it?

He kisses the edge of my mouth and then pulls back, waiting for me to continue.

“Right, yes. I was just going to say that I haven’t done anything bad in weeks, really, not since the skinny dipping…”

“So you want to make up for it?”

He gets me. We’re soul mates.

I reach down for his jeans as I ask, “How long do you think we have before Andy realizes we’re gone?”

“Did you see him when we walked in? He’s in heaven. Everyone wants to talk to him. He’ll be busy all night.”

So this is happening then—dirty garage sex. I imagine what I’ll look like after: oil-smudged face, hair covered in sawdust. Maybe we’ll get crafty and use the bicycle seat. I’m imagining that exact scenario just as Ben finds the zipper on my jeans. We can’t strip down all the way. There’s no time. We’re rushing. His hand brushes past the hem of my panties and my stomach dips. I unbutton his jeans and stroke his length inside his briefs. He’s silky smooth and rock hard.

Then his finger slides into me and it’s my undoing. I cry out and his mouth comes down hard on mine in a passionate kiss. It’s hot, mesmerizing, sensual. He’s so good, so giving. And when he tugs me to the edge of the workbench and thrusts into me moments later, his skill is only further demonstrated. Each hard thrust in and each slow drag out brings me closer…and closer. His finger circles around and around and my nails leave half-moons on his shoulders. We’re in a frenzy. My moans and gasps would be heard through the entire party if his mouth wasn’t silencing me.