Where We Began (Stone Lake 2.5)

“Where’s your mind at, Junie?” Ben asks, his fingers trailing against the side of my neck.

“What do you mean?” I ask, dragging my gaze back to him and my breath catching in my throat as I see the intensity shining in his eyes, even with the waning light.

“You were a million miles away from me,” he says. I roll my bottom lip inward, letting my teeth capture it, the top ones raking against the tender flesh. I do this because Ben’s hand has moved down to my midriff, pushing my shirt up and out of his way. His fingers move across my stomach, which is mostly flat—except for a small area that betrays my love of ice cream. The tip of his index finger glides over the small rhinestone at my navel.

“I’m right here,” I tell him my voice so breathless that it sounds foreign to my own ears.

“Don’t leave me again. I want all of you when we’re together.”

“Now that doesn’t sound like a line…” I murmur.

“That’s because it’s not. This is just you and me, Junie.”

“Ben…” I gasp as his hands move to my back and he curves my body up, bringing it closer to him. My head goes back against the bike, letting him have his way, despite my nerves.

“That makes twice,” he whispers. His lips are so close to my stomach that I can feel his heated breath.

Need shoots through me, heating me from the inside, and firing my blood to the point that I could almost purr with how delicious it feels. My panties are wet with desire. The air around us thick as we’re both caught up in this hunger we bring out in each other.

“Two times and it just gets sweeter,” he says and his lips barely touch my stomach in a featherlike kiss that feels better than anything I’ve ever experienced. Anticipation is killing me. I want more. I need more. “Two times, Junie.”

“Two times?” I ask, breathlessly, just as his lips skim against my navel, and I feel the brush of the tip of his nose.

“Twice you’ve said my name. I want more of it,” he groans as his tongue comes out and twirls around my piercing, his teeth raking against my skin. Chills move through me, a gush of wetness gathers between my legs, and my nipples harden painfully against my bra.

“Ben,” I gasp.

“Third times the charm,” he growls and he pulls me so that I’m sitting up, facing him. Our lips are so close, his breath almost as ragged as mine. “Third times the charm, Junie,” he repeats, his voice graveled, so much texture in it that it feels like a touch. Then, his lips claim mine.

I tense up immediately. I don’t mean to. It’s the last thing I want to do. I fight through it, pushing the thoughts that threaten to intrude on the moment away. His tongue plunges into my mouth, searching mine and then the panic swallows me. My body becomes rigid. I don’t pull away, but I retreat in every other way that matters and Ben can tell immediately. He pulls back, and looks at me, his gaze moving over me. Sharp, appraising, and I hate that I’ve ruined the moment.

“Too soon,” he murmurs.

“Ben, I… I’m sor—”

He puts his finger against my lips, not letting me finish. “Do not apologize, Junie. You never have to apologize to me about this. Understand?” he asks, and tears sting my eyes, but I don’t let them fall… not until he kisses the top of my head and then holds me to him, making me feel like he cares…

Ben

Two Weeks Later

It’s been a hell of a day. I ran into Howie’s mother at the DMV. She blames me for his death. It ended up being an ugly scene while she screamed at me for letting Howie get killed all to try and save my girlfriend. How I didn’t watch over him, didn’t protect my own men. She screamed over and over, accusing me of trying to play the hero to win Luna back.

I didn’t do it, at least not consciously. Was that what I tried to do? Did my decisions kill Howie? Fuck, everything just keeps replaying in my head. I walked away from the DMV feeling bile rise in my throat and my gut twisting over all of the shit that I wish I had done differently.

Then Junie called. I didn’t pick up. My head just wasn’t in the right place to talk with her. She’s another problem I can’t seem to sort through, even if she doesn’t mean to be. It’s just that this game Junie and I seem to be playing is fun, exciting and… frustrating. So fucking frustrating that I’m not sure I can take much more.

I swear, I’m pretty sure my poor balls have gone past blue and have turned a cold lifeless purple. There are days it hurts to walk. I jerk off nightly to the thought of Junie, but it’s not the same.