house with that stoner to attend a party three towns over."
I scowled, not believing him for a moment. "I'm pretty sure you're the one who ratted me out."
"Wasn't me," Ben said, making a lazy mock salute. "Scout's honor."
I glanced at him sidelong. Had he really been crushing on me for years? If so, he'd found a strange time to tell me…
"C'mon, Becca," he prompted. "Tell me your fantasy. I won't tell and I won't judge."
"Everybody judges. Especially guys like you."
He raised a brow. "Guys like me ? And what kind of guy am I?"
"You know," I said, waving my hand to encompass the dress-shirt, the clean-cut style and general blandness. Hell, his last name was White!
"Now whose judging?" he asked.
Busted . My smart-alec smirk fell away.
I didn't think it was possible for his expression to get more serious, but it did. "Becca, there's absolutely nothing you could tell me that's gonna shock me."
I snorted, leaning against my mom's car, which prompted Ben to take the cookie tray from me and set it down on the stairs next to him. "C'mon. What's your fantasy? Or are you going to make me guess?"
"You can't guess," I said, hugging myself against the bite of winter air.
Ben tilted his head. "You wanna be with a girl."
"Pfft! Only in Geece Grove would girl-on-girl action shock anybody. You think I'd be afraid to tell you that ?"
His smile widened. "Oh, so you're afraid to tell me. This gets better all the time…"
I felt weirdly vulnerable, and wanted my cookie tray back for armor. "It's just a weird kink, okay? Now, give me back my cookies and let me go inside."
"A kink , huh?" Nudging the cookies out of my reach, he said, "So, you wanna be spanked. Ropes, blindfolds, whips and chains?"
I shrugged. "Much dirtier than that."
I made a grab for the cookies, but getting close to him was a mistake, because he caught me by the belt loop to my jeans, and corralled me between his knees. My breath caught at being tugged so close to him. At the warmth of his legs around mine. At the way he looked up at me so intensely.
"Dirtier?" he asked. "Becca, you've gotta tell me now. Or else, I'll know you're all talk. C'mon. Shock me. I dare you."
I swallowed, not sure how to respond to this new, more aggressively flirtatious Ben. I had no intention of telling him my fantasies, but I found that I didn't want to shove him away either…
I could just make up a lie. That'd be easier than telling him. Heck, I'm not sure I'd ever really admitted the truth to myself. And now I felt slightly dizzied. Terrified, really. "Fine. You called my bluff, Ben. There's no dark fantasy."
Both his eyebrows lifted. "You're a really bad liar for an actress. So you're going to make me guess. Ok, then I've gotta assume you want to be a pony girl."
I nearly choked. " What ?"
"You don't know what a pony girl is?"
"Yes, I know," I hissed. "But how do you know?"
He grinned. "This may come as a shock to you, City Slicker. But I've had access to a thing called the internet. So is that your kink? You want to play a round of giddy-up?"
He was teasing, but remained remarkably sober, as if steeling himself in case he'd actually guessed right. And something about his effort to keep a straight face, no matter what I might say, was unexpectedly endearing. "No. No pony girl fantasies…"
"Then tell me," he said, his thumbs gently caressing my hips where his fingers still looped in my jeans. And I felt a spark of definite sexual heat pass between us. Could the boy next door have somehow become… sexy ?
I wanted to reach forward and muss up his hair. Yank open the tie he'd worn to the party. Bite his lower lip. Roll over him like a sexual hurricane, leaving him wrecked in my aftermath. Maybe it was because of his admission that he'd been crushing on me since we were in braces. Or maybe it was because I didn't want to admit to myself that there might be more to him than met the eye. But suddenly I wanted to shock him.
"It's a call girl fantasy," I said, all
I scowled, not believing him for a moment. "I'm pretty sure you're the one who ratted me out."
"Wasn't me," Ben said, making a lazy mock salute. "Scout's honor."
I glanced at him sidelong. Had he really been crushing on me for years? If so, he'd found a strange time to tell me…
"C'mon, Becca," he prompted. "Tell me your fantasy. I won't tell and I won't judge."
"Everybody judges. Especially guys like you."
He raised a brow. "Guys like me ? And what kind of guy am I?"
"You know," I said, waving my hand to encompass the dress-shirt, the clean-cut style and general blandness. Hell, his last name was White!
"Now whose judging?" he asked.
Busted . My smart-alec smirk fell away.
I didn't think it was possible for his expression to get more serious, but it did. "Becca, there's absolutely nothing you could tell me that's gonna shock me."
I snorted, leaning against my mom's car, which prompted Ben to take the cookie tray from me and set it down on the stairs next to him. "C'mon. What's your fantasy? Or are you going to make me guess?"
"You can't guess," I said, hugging myself against the bite of winter air.
Ben tilted his head. "You wanna be with a girl."
"Pfft! Only in Geece Grove would girl-on-girl action shock anybody. You think I'd be afraid to tell you that ?"
His smile widened. "Oh, so you're afraid to tell me. This gets better all the time…"
I felt weirdly vulnerable, and wanted my cookie tray back for armor. "It's just a weird kink, okay? Now, give me back my cookies and let me go inside."
"A kink , huh?" Nudging the cookies out of my reach, he said, "So, you wanna be spanked. Ropes, blindfolds, whips and chains?"
I shrugged. "Much dirtier than that."
I made a grab for the cookies, but getting close to him was a mistake, because he caught me by the belt loop to my jeans, and corralled me between his knees. My breath caught at being tugged so close to him. At the warmth of his legs around mine. At the way he looked up at me so intensely.
"Dirtier?" he asked. "Becca, you've gotta tell me now. Or else, I'll know you're all talk. C'mon. Shock me. I dare you."
I swallowed, not sure how to respond to this new, more aggressively flirtatious Ben. I had no intention of telling him my fantasies, but I found that I didn't want to shove him away either…
I could just make up a lie. That'd be easier than telling him. Heck, I'm not sure I'd ever really admitted the truth to myself. And now I felt slightly dizzied. Terrified, really. "Fine. You called my bluff, Ben. There's no dark fantasy."
Both his eyebrows lifted. "You're a really bad liar for an actress. So you're going to make me guess. Ok, then I've gotta assume you want to be a pony girl."
I nearly choked. " What ?"
"You don't know what a pony girl is?"
"Yes, I know," I hissed. "But how do you know?"
He grinned. "This may come as a shock to you, City Slicker. But I've had access to a thing called the internet. So is that your kink? You want to play a round of giddy-up?"
He was teasing, but remained remarkably sober, as if steeling himself in case he'd actually guessed right. And something about his effort to keep a straight face, no matter what I might say, was unexpectedly endearing. "No. No pony girl fantasies…"
"Then tell me," he said, his thumbs gently caressing my hips where his fingers still looped in my jeans. And I felt a spark of definite sexual heat pass between us. Could the boy next door have somehow become… sexy ?
I wanted to reach forward and muss up his hair. Yank open the tie he'd worn to the party. Bite his lower lip. Roll over him like a sexual hurricane, leaving him wrecked in my aftermath. Maybe it was because of his admission that he'd been crushing on me since we were in braces. Or maybe it was because I didn't want to admit to myself that there might be more to him than met the eye. But suddenly I wanted to shock him.
"It's a call girl fantasy," I said, all
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