about you? This is the second time you haven't gotten anything." Feeling guilty.
"I want to please you, and by doing so it pleases me. You don't have to worry," he tells me, but I have to wonder: If he's not getting it from me, then is he getting it somewhere else?
"But you have needs, and this cannot be enough for you. Do you see someone else after you leave me?" I am afraid of his answer.
"No. No Tess, you're the one I want to be with, even if that means a cold shower after we part ways, or a solo job." And I get all hot again, just imagining him in the shower, pumping himself. And then I get a little brave again...
"Do you think about me?" I can't believe I just asked that. But, hey, I want to know.
"Yes." He breathes.
Oh. My.
I wake up in Ben's bed. I look around for a clock; it's after three o'clock in the morning. I roll over to see if Ben was asleep, but he wasn't there. I sit up, wrap the black sheet around me, and head out to the main living area. The room is dimly lit, by the city lights beaming through the large windows. I find him sitting on the sectional with his back to me, holding what looks like a bass guitar. His back is bare and all of his muscles look defined from the way he's holding the bass. He has it plugged into a small amp and the volume is down so low I can barely hear it from the hallway. I quietly tiptoe over to him, not wanting to mess him up or startle him. He's playing a slow tune, nothing I recognize. I walk around one side of the sofa and sit down next to him. He looks over to me and smiles, but doesn't stop playing.
"Did I wake you?" he asks.
"No, I woke up probably knowing I wasn't in my own bed." He nods and smiles.
"Not too many people play the bass. Most want to play the cool guitar." I wink.
"Well, I make the bass look cool."
"No, more like dreamy and sexy as hell."
He sets the bass down and that's when I notice that he has his black boxer briefs back on. Bummer.
He strides to the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"
My stomach growls, giving me away.
He smiles and reaches into the fridge. Pulls out a few different Tupperware containers, filled with God knows what. "OK, I have spaghetti and meatballs, baked chicken, roasted garlic potatoes and vegetable lasagna." He lists off.
"Vegetable lasagna, please, and did you cook all of this yourself?" Nothing is sexier than a man who can cook.
He looks proud. "Yep. With mom gone and dad at work most nights, it was either Maria the maid slash nanny slash cook, which all she knew was mac 'n' cheese or how to dial a phone for takeout. So I learned how to cook. Really wasn't that hard. Added bonus that I learned I enjoyed it too."
He throws the container in the microwave, then grabs a bottle of wine and two stem glasses. "Do you like Moscato?"
"It's my favorite, actually." I take a small sip, of the cold refreshing liquid. I lick my lips to savor it, and I notice Ben watching me intently with thumb at his mouth nibbling the tip. Hot.
Moments later, he dishes out the food, and sits next to me at the breakfast bar. "So, I told you about my family drama. What's your story?"
"Not much of one," I begin. "Dad cheated on my mom when I was a baby, they got divorced. He married the other woman, and years later we found out he already had a son with her. Hence the brother you 'met' at the show. Mom raised me alone with little help from my dad, never knew I had a brother for a while. When we did meet, we became inseparable."
Ben nods that he understands, and I know he does. I know what Caroline means to him. I go on. "I went to school, shows, painted, taught myself how to use a camera. Got a job at the coffee shop after high school, took a few years off, saved up some money, and am now taking a few classes over at the community college, which you know."
He stares at me, wide-eyed. Ha!
"See, not so exciting," I say.
"It's your life. It's exciting to me." Wow, he knows how to lay it on thick.
We finish our meal and I get dressed. I ask
"I want to please you, and by doing so it pleases me. You don't have to worry," he tells me, but I have to wonder: If he's not getting it from me, then is he getting it somewhere else?
"But you have needs, and this cannot be enough for you. Do you see someone else after you leave me?" I am afraid of his answer.
"No. No Tess, you're the one I want to be with, even if that means a cold shower after we part ways, or a solo job." And I get all hot again, just imagining him in the shower, pumping himself. And then I get a little brave again...
"Do you think about me?" I can't believe I just asked that. But, hey, I want to know.
"Yes." He breathes.
Oh. My.
I wake up in Ben's bed. I look around for a clock; it's after three o'clock in the morning. I roll over to see if Ben was asleep, but he wasn't there. I sit up, wrap the black sheet around me, and head out to the main living area. The room is dimly lit, by the city lights beaming through the large windows. I find him sitting on the sectional with his back to me, holding what looks like a bass guitar. His back is bare and all of his muscles look defined from the way he's holding the bass. He has it plugged into a small amp and the volume is down so low I can barely hear it from the hallway. I quietly tiptoe over to him, not wanting to mess him up or startle him. He's playing a slow tune, nothing I recognize. I walk around one side of the sofa and sit down next to him. He looks over to me and smiles, but doesn't stop playing.
"Did I wake you?" he asks.
"No, I woke up probably knowing I wasn't in my own bed." He nods and smiles.
"Not too many people play the bass. Most want to play the cool guitar." I wink.
"Well, I make the bass look cool."
"No, more like dreamy and sexy as hell."
He sets the bass down and that's when I notice that he has his black boxer briefs back on. Bummer.
He strides to the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"
My stomach growls, giving me away.
He smiles and reaches into the fridge. Pulls out a few different Tupperware containers, filled with God knows what. "OK, I have spaghetti and meatballs, baked chicken, roasted garlic potatoes and vegetable lasagna." He lists off.
"Vegetable lasagna, please, and did you cook all of this yourself?" Nothing is sexier than a man who can cook.
He looks proud. "Yep. With mom gone and dad at work most nights, it was either Maria the maid slash nanny slash cook, which all she knew was mac 'n' cheese or how to dial a phone for takeout. So I learned how to cook. Really wasn't that hard. Added bonus that I learned I enjoyed it too."
He throws the container in the microwave, then grabs a bottle of wine and two stem glasses. "Do you like Moscato?"
"It's my favorite, actually." I take a small sip, of the cold refreshing liquid. I lick my lips to savor it, and I notice Ben watching me intently with thumb at his mouth nibbling the tip. Hot.
Moments later, he dishes out the food, and sits next to me at the breakfast bar. "So, I told you about my family drama. What's your story?"
"Not much of one," I begin. "Dad cheated on my mom when I was a baby, they got divorced. He married the other woman, and years later we found out he already had a son with her. Hence the brother you 'met' at the show. Mom raised me alone with little help from my dad, never knew I had a brother for a while. When we did meet, we became inseparable."
Ben nods that he understands, and I know he does. I know what Caroline means to him. I go on. "I went to school, shows, painted, taught myself how to use a camera. Got a job at the coffee shop after high school, took a few years off, saved up some money, and am now taking a few classes over at the community college, which you know."
He stares at me, wide-eyed. Ha!
"See, not so exciting," I say.
"It's your life. It's exciting to me." Wow, he knows how to lay it on thick.
We finish our meal and I get dressed. I ask
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