No Strings

Images of him tying me up and having his way with me flicker through my brain, heading straight to my lady parts. Would he let me ride him or demand to be on top? I bet his dick is big, too. Neil was extremely insecure, and he had a small dick. Ben, on the other hand, seems very, very sure of himself.

“Ms. Cartwright, can I help you?” he asks again, popping my fantasy bubble.

I clear my throat. “No… umm… Yes?” I squeak out.

He tilts his head to the side slightly. “Which is it? No or yes? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m in the middle of conducting a meeting right now.”

I don’t know what comes over me, but when he raises a single brow in what looks like half-curiosity, half-impatience, the words just fly out. “Sorry to interrupt, Benji”—his team of employees gasp at the nickname—“Brody ordered lunch, and I was wondering when you’ll be joining us.” It’s a simple question, but my tone conveys how I feel about him forgetting about his son.

Ben’s jaw ticks, no doubt in anger and probably annoyance, but I can also spot a hint of regret. He glances down at his watch, then looks back at me. “It would seem I lost track of time.” He turns his attention to his employees. “Everyone, go ahead and break for lunch. We’ll reconvene in thirty minutes.”

“Make it sixty,” I say. “Thirty minutes is hardly enough time to eat lunch.”

His eyes go wide, and a devilish smirk plays in the corner of his mouth as his employees’ gazes volley between the two of us, waiting for their boss to confirm one way or the other. “Sixty minutes.” He shakes his head slightly as if he can’t believe he’s agreeing to something so ludicrous.

Once everyone is gone, and it’s only the two of us, Ben closes his laptop and stalks over to me, only stopping once he’s cornered me against the wall with our faces mere inches apart. Up close, his hazel eyes are like nothing I’ve ever seen—different shades of greens and blues and browns all mixed in a beautiful, chaotic way. His chocolate brown hair is cut short on the sides and slightly longer on the top. My fingers itch to run through the strands to see if his hair is as soft as it looks. He’s sporting several days of stubble, yet it’s trimmed neatly. When his eyes sear into mine and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, I wonder what it would feel like to kiss him, like really kiss him. So deep his stubble would burn my face. And then my thoughts shift, as I imagine that same stubble burning between my legs as he licks his way—

“Nobody interrupts my meetings, ever,” he says, knocking me out of my erotic fantasy. “They don’t argue with me or question me, and they sure as hell don’t call me Benji. Who the hell are you, and what are you doing to me?” His questions come out less accusatory and more in wonderment. They’re clearly rhetorical, more or less aimed at himself.

I open my mouth to answer him—something sarcastic at the tip of my tongue—when Brody crashes into the room. “I thought you left,” he says to me, hurt and relief woven in his features.

Ben backs up slightly, taking his eyes off me to look at his son.

“I was just telling your dad we were about to eat. He lost track of time, but once I snapped him out of it, he ended his meeting so he could have lunch with us.”

Brody’s lip quirks up enough to hint at a tiny smile. “Really? You ended your meeting?”

“I did,” Ben tells him. “Is the food here?”

“Yeah. I ordered Italian. Your favorite.”

Ben smiles. “That sounds good. I just need to have a quick word with Savannah, and then we’ll meet you in my office.”

Brody looks confused but shrugs. “All right, but hurry. It’s going to get cold.”

He leaves through the same door he came in, and once we’re alone, I turn to Ben, trying to appear nonchalant when I’m anything but. Being this close to him has me feeling things I have no business feeling. “What’s up?”

“I can’t remember the last time I felt this way,” he murmurs, scarily voicing my same thoughts. “First you take over my gym, messing with my morning workout, then somehow you win over my son… a kid who seems to hate everyone these days.” He steps forward, encroaching on my personal space. “Then, you crash my meeting, undermining my authority with my employees…” He drags his eyes over my face. “Calling me a name you know I hate…”

I swallow thickly as he drags his tongue across the seam of his lips, looking at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t figure out.