Deep (23 page)

“He smashed your heart to smithereens?” Ev’s eyes got glossy. “That’s terrible.”

“I had … I have a lot of feelings for him. Each time he chose to not take things further with me, it hurt.” I slumped back in my chair, relaxing, giving my full belly a chance to get with the digesting. “Ugh, boys suck. Such is life. What can you do?”

“Spoken like a true psychology student,” said Ev with a smile.

“Thank you.”

The blonde gave her ponytail a tug. A cute nervous trait. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I should probably never have given you his number. I knew he didn’t date.”

“Don’t,” I chided her. “I was a little obsessed with him, truth be told. One way or another I would have seen him again. He just gets to me. I didn’t even think I had a type, but somehow he’s it, from top to toe.”

“He still should have thought of what he wanted, long before he came near you with his sperm.” Anne’s eyes narrowed in that deadly familiar way.

“Do you love him?” asked Lena, head tipping to the side.

I stared at the ceiling, my mind in a whirl. “Ah, like I said, I have feelings for him.”

“Are those feelings love?”

“I don’t want to answer that question.”

“No?” Ev set her cup back on the table, setting her elbows on her knees.

I was surrounded. Encircled by well-meaning friends. Now I got it, why Anne was so taken with these girls. They were authentic, kind, and funny. And while it was nice, knowing their questions came from concern, I squirmed in my seat at the thought of airing mine and Ben’s slightly soiled if not completely rank and feral laundry. I barely had a handle on the situation between us in my head, and by “barely” I mean not really at all.

“Because I’m not ready,” I told the crystal chandelier hanging above our heads. Sunlight reflected on the walls, prisms splitting the white light into small slices of rainbows. Beautiful.

“No need to rush,” said Anne, grabbing for my hand. “Slow.”

“Slow,” I agreed.

The suite’s door pushed open and Jimmy and Ben strode in, both dripping sweat. Basketball shorts hung low on Ben’s hips. He’d removed his T-shirt and was using it to mop his face.

“Hi, babe.” Lena held a hand up and Jimmy grabbed it, leaning over the back of her chair to kiss her cheek.

“Cute T-shirt. How’re my girls doing?” he asked, sliding a hand down to cover her belly.

“We’re all good. Taking it easy, just like the doctor ordered.”

“Girls?” Ev’s eyes lit up like twin full moons.

“Oops. Secret’s out,” laughed Lena.

“A baby girl! That’s so exciting.”

No response from Lena, on account of her being busy trading spit with Jim. Whoa, they were really going for it. I wasn’t so certain her obsession with pie was the only hormone enhancement.

“Hey.” Ben kneeled beside my chair, sweaty shirt slung over one thick shoulder. His smile was all for me. It melted my insides, turning me to mush. What terrible power he had over me. The man should be ashamed of himself.

“Hi.” I smiled. “Good workout?”

“Yeah, Dave even tagged along. It was fun.”

Like a dinner bell had been rung, Ev jumped to her feet. Pavlov’s dogs couldn’t have been better trained. “Which means my hot husband’s in the shower. Later guys.”

And she was gone.

“Um, yeah. Meeting adjourned,” Lena managed between kisses.

With a final evil-eyed look at my new boyfriend, Anne likewise got to her feet. “I should go see what mine’s up to. Leaving him alone for long periods of time is dangerous. See you all on the flight to New York.”

“Later.” I waved.

“Am I going to have to let your sister take a swing at me too?” Ben grumbled in a gravelly voice.

“She’ll come around.”

“Thought letting Mal have his shots sorted all of this out.”

“She worries about me.” I tucked his long fringe aside, reveling in the freedom to touch as I liked. Sweaty or not, I’d take him and then some. “Give it time.”

A scowl from the man.

“What? No.” Jimmy barked tersely from the other side of the lounge chair.

“Just a little one,” said Lena, stroking his face.

“I’m not growing a fucking beard. They itch.”

“But—”

“Where the hell is this coming from, anyway?” Jimmy pierced me with a cranky look. “You been talking up beards or something?”

I gave him my best innocent face.

The broody lead singer shook his head. “You girls shouldn’t be talking sex, for fuck’s sake. We’re all living on top of each other as it is.”

“Liz just happened to mention the enhanced benefits of oral,” said Lena, her face the picture of serenity. “You want me to be happy, don’t you?”

“I keep you plenty happy,” said Jim, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Of course you do, babe. I just thought you might want to think about growing one. You know, just to try something different.”

Smirk in place, Ben took up the cause. Sort of. “Takes a real man to grow a beard. You’re just not there yet, Jim. Don’t feel bad.”

“Go fuck yourself, sunshine.” Jimmy hid a smile. “Both of you, out. I apparently have to prove my oral prowess to my girl, yet again.”

“Sorry. My bad,” said Lena, looking not the least bit sorry.

Ben snickered, rising to his feet, drawing me up by my hand on the way. Holding hands was nice. What was especially nice was how he didn’t let go. Out we went, the suite’s door locked soundly behind us.

“What’ve you been saying?” he asked, heading toward our own room. “Thought sex shit was private.”

“Sorry. Girl talk. I got carried away.”

“Hmm.” His brows became one unhappy line.

“Are you really upset?” I asked, more than a smidgen worried. Relationships were so tricky. Me and my mouth needed to take more care and do no expounding on him or his facial hair’s sexy-times goodness.

“Nuh. Worth it to see the pissed off look on Jim’s face.” He chuckled.

“Oh good.”

“We’ve got two hours before the flight,” he said, dark eyes looking me over. “Plenty of time for some serious slow.”

My pulse took up residence between my thighs. The man had my pussy’s number and he used it with zero hesitation. Boyfriend-wise he was all over the sex, and I have to say, I really did respect him for that.

“Figure we’ve got some more getting to know each other to do,” he said.

“You do, huh?”

He swiped the key through the lock, pushing open the door. “I gave you a hand job last night and my mouth this morning. If slow means we’re doing no penetration for a while, then sweetheart, I need you to take mercy on me. I’m in desperate need of your fist wrapped around my cock.”

“I’d like that.”

“Trust me, I’ve been thinking about it all day. You sitting naked on my lap, jerking me off while I play with your gorgeous, sensitive tits. Bet I can make you come just from that. What do you say we do some experimenting and find out?”

My body buzzed, my breathing speeding. I swear I nearly came just from listening to him talking dirty. The man had hidden talents. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl. Who knows, maybe you could even write a paper on it.”

I burst out laughing. “I don’t know about that.”

He grinned down at me, already lifting my oversize T-shirt off over my head.

“Your pants don’t fit?” he asked, inspecting the hairband looped through my jeans’ buttonhole. The sole means by which I could keep them up, since the zipper was completely out. And these were my loose low-cuts.

“Not much fits since I popped.”

“You need some maternity gear like Lena. Jim said she found some real cute shit,” he said. “You’re spilling out of the bra too. Not that I don’t like the look, but that can’t be good.”

“You and Jim talk about girls’ clothes?”

He gave me a dour look. “Jim was just giving me some hints, what with Lena being further along than you and everything.”

“The clothes aren’t an issue. I can make do for a little while longer.”

“You don’t need to ‘make do for a little while longer.’ I want you comfortable.”

“Weren’t we going to have sex?” I asked, crossing my arms over my bountiful boobs and checking out the room. For some reason I just didn’t feel like looking at him right then.

“Have you touched that money I put in your account?”

“Not yet. I haven’t needed to.”

“Clearly you need to.” He crossed his arms too. No fair—his were so much bigger than mine. The fact that they were muscular and covered in tattoos pleased me just then. To be fair, Ben didn’t seem so happy himself. “What’s going on here, Liz?”

“Nothing. Which is the problem. I thought we were fooling around.”

He just looked at me.

“What?” I asked.

A long-suffering sigh. Then his fingers dealt with the band on my pants in less than two seconds, the denim pooling at my feet.

“Up,” he ordered, lifting me off the ground.

At last, sex. I wrapped my legs and arms around him, refinding my happy. “Were you really thinking about me all day?”

“Yeah, I was. And you’re sure as shit on my mind now.” Lines covered his high forehead. “So tell me, what’s this bullshit about you not touching that money? It’s yours for buying what you need, and clearly you need stuff.”

“It’s for Bean.”

“It’s for both of you.”

“I don’t like taking your money.”

A grunt of disapproval. “You didn’t take it, I gave it to you.”

“It feels the same.”

“Fine. Okay.” His hands cupped my ass, fingers massaging. “I don’t want you feeling weird about this. And relationships are about compromise, right?”

“Ri-i-ght.” Suspicion was my middle name.

“Tomorrow we go shopping and put all the shit you need on my card.”

“That’s not compromise!”

“You don’t like touching that money I put in your account, so don’t. In fact, you don’t have to touch any of my money at all. I’ll deal with it.”

“Ben.”

“Liz. Fact is, you’re probably never going to have the kind of money I’ve got. Since the band started earning, pretty much all I’ve done is invest it. I’m not like Jim with the flashy suits or Mal with the massive beach house and parties. I don’t need much, live pretty simply. Drive the same old truck. I’ve got one expense, but it’s under control.” Dark eyes drew me in. “You’ve made your point. There’s nothing in me thinking you’re into me for the money, okay? Now, I’m not having this discussion with you every time you need something. You and Bean are mine, and I look after what’s mine.”

I took a deep breath.

“We good?” he asked.

“I’ll try.”

“Do more than try. Rely on me. It’s what I’m here for.”

“That was a really sweet thing to say.” My eyes misted up. Crazy-ass hormones. “I guess because I didn’t grow up with much it just … it feels weird even having it there but not having worked for it. Like I stole it or something.”

“Sweetheart, you didn’t steal the money. You stole me. The money comes with me. Okay?”

“Okay.” A tear trickled down my cheek. “I really like you, Ben. So damn much.”

“Christ, what are you crying for? Come here, give me that mouth.”

I did as told. After that, there was more coming than crying that day.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ben was gone again when I woke up the next morning, in New York. Due to the three scheduled concerts, we’d be in the city for nearly a week. The thing about being on tour was the endless possibilities for late mornings. I’d be part sloth by the time we got home. There’d been a band dinner the night before, despite Jimmy’s complaint about everyone living on top of each other. I think his eternal bad mood secretly hid one hell of a soft inside. And yes, that was my professional opinion. I’d caught him stroking his chin while giving Lena a thoughtful look, more than once. Wouldn’t surprise me if we had another beard on board in the near future.

With my sloth side in mind, I met Anne at the gym and we took up residence on a pair of exercise bikes for half an hour. The last gyno I saw a few days back had said light exercise was fine and dandy. Despite the occasional fetish for some weird food, and Lena’s pastry party yesterday, I hadn’t been indulging too much. Lots of salad and vegetables and the occasional trip to the dark side of decadent desserts. Total denial didn’t suit me. At the end of the day, a healthy Bean and happy me was more important than the size of my butt.

The menfolk had gone off for a sound check, followed by various TV appearances before they hit the stage. Maternity shopping could fall by the wayside for a while, no biggie. A reporter from some big-name music magazine had taken to tagging along with the band, adding to the busy. Apparently an in-depth Stage Dive on Tour: The Real Story Behind the Public Facade article was in the making. Ben had seemed singularly unimpressed with the whole thing. But then, little moved him. He tended to take the bulk of things in his stride.

Which was great.

I could, I know, become rather strung out at times. Overthink things a little. Though with the gene pool Anne and I came from, it was probably a wonder we hadn’t both become crazy cat ladies at the age of eighteen or something. Not that I was making excuses or suggesting that passing on blame for a person’s personal behavior was a go. But for me, I think Ben’s aura of calm and direct was a good thing. People with low self-esteem fear love. (Yep. Psychology degree rears its head again.) They doubt another person’s ability to appreciate them, because they don’t see the worth in themselves. I knew I deserved good things. Or at the very least, I wouldn’t settle for less than a good thing.

In my rolled-down yoga pants, tank top slightly too small to contain the boobs and belly, and sweaty ponytail, I wandered back into our suite. Charcoal gray with features of slate this time. Awesome view of Manhattan. Very nice.

What was waiting inside for me, not so much.

“You are fucking kidding me,” the stranger snarled, glaring at my baby belly.

I put a hand to my middle, stopping cold.

The woman was tall, brunette, slick beyond belief. Around thirty maybe. It was hard to tell, the way her sneer warped her model-like face and cherry red lips. Guess she was Ben’s hookup in New York or something. How awkward. Also, how the hell had she gotten in here?