Rebel Hearts: Outside The Lines Part 20

I wash my hands and run them through my messy hair while Erin uses the bathroom. I give up on my hair. I need something more substantial than my fingers, and loosen the ties on my bikini top. I kept it tight to hold the girls up, but my neck is starting to hurt. The struggle is real when it comes to these puppies. But it's a love-to-hate problem.

Ben gets along great with everyone, and everyone likes him. I've never been ashamed of anyone I've brought home with me, but I've never exactly been proud of them either. And I'm not talking about his incredible good looks. I'm talking about Ben. Who he is. What he does. He's just an all-around great guy.

The sun is almost set and I get hit with a blast of hot, humid air when we leave the house and step out onto the deck. My entire family is crowded on it, all sitting in a circle around a fire pit that is probably dangerously close to the house. But in our family, we drink and roast marshmallows wherever the f.u.c.k we want. Even if it's against a fire code.

"I love nights like this," Mom says. "When it's still hot after the sun sets."

I put my hand on Ben's and pick up a red plastic cup from the deck floor. It might be mine. It might not be. I'm just drunk enough to not care. As long as alcohol gets in my mouth, I'm fine.

"I love summer," one of my cousins chimes in. "It always goes by so fast after the Fourth."

"Especially for us teachers," Danielle says, and another cousin agrees. He teaches math at the high school here in town.

"I can't wait for fall," Mindy says. "I live for pumpkin spice, leggings, and Ugg boots."

I cannot hide the horror on my face. Not only is Mindy an insult to the female race, she's the most basic one at that. I stare at her like she just got caught not was.h.i.+ng her hands after taking a s.h.i.+t, then shake myself. I don't care, remember?

We continue talking and drinking, then turn our chairs when the fireworks start. We "ooo" and "aww" for nearly an hour, eat some more, talk, laugh, and continue drinking. The party breaks up around midnight. I walk Erin to her car, give her a hug goodbye, and promise to call once Ben and I get back into Grand Rapids.

Zoey and Mindy leave without saying bye, which is fine by me. Jake, Danielle, Ben, and I help my mom and aunts clean up most of the mess until the others are too tired to keep going on. Danielle kisses Jake goodnight, saying she'll see him in the morning. I see the question in Ben's eyes, so I'm not surprised when he asks me about it once we slip outside.

"They say they are waiting for marriage," I explain and collect red Solo cups from the deck, pitching them into a recycling bin.

"Waiting to have s.e.x?" Ben asks like he can't believe it.

"I haven't asked for details, like if just slipping the tip in counts or not, but yeah, they say they haven't slept together yet."

Ben's nostril flare. "People still do that?"

I laugh. "Some people, yeah, I guess. Hmm ... maybe I should go cold turkey and save myself too."

"h.e.l.l no," Ben says. "I love f.u.c.king you."

The smile is back on my face. "I a.s.sumed so. And I love f.u.c.king you too."

"You better."

I shake my head and run my eyes over him. He's still s.h.i.+rtless, somehow not sunburned, and just ... amazing. I'm floating above the sand, looking down at the sh.o.r.e. Is this real life?

Fireworks continue to go off, reflecting on the lake. We end up on the edge of the dock, swinging our feet above the water, arms around each other. We talk about everything and anything, and the next thing I know, the sun is creeping up, and storm clouds are rolling in on the horizon. Exhaustion hits me when I stand (and probably dehydration; it's hot and I drank a lot) and I hold onto Ben to keep from faltering. We walk down the boardwalk hand in hand, and thunder rumbles distantly over the lake.

"Good timing," Ben says slowly. He yawns and pulls me in. I twist and wrap my arms around him. The wind picks up and he kisses me. Time stands still. My heart races and everything is finally perfect in my world.

It's been just over a month but I think I'm in love with him.

f.u.c.k. Me. This shouldn't be happening so soon. He pushes his tongue into my mouth and I'm hot and wet in an instant and ready to throw him down in the sand. Actually, who cares what "should" be. I've never been one for rules anyway. We tangle closer together, stumbling over the sun-warped wooden boards until we get to the cabin. I rummage through my purse for the key.

We strip out of the little clothes we have on. I yank down Ben's swim shorts and he pulls my dress over my head, then slowly pulls the strings on my clamsh.e.l.l bikini top. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s are still damp from the material, and feel cold under Ben's warm hands. Sand sprinkles on the floor and rubs my skin. He unties my bottoms and we head to the bathroom and into the shower.

The water is still cold when we step in, but we're so wrapped up in each other neither of us cares. Ben kisses me, then trails his lips down my neck and onto my breast. He pulls back, makes a face, and spits.

"You're all sandy," he says with a laugh.

I'm laughing too as I step away from him to let the water rush over me. "Better?"

"I think so." He picks up where he left off, and I cast my eyes down to watch his big, beautiful c.o.c.k rise to action. I take it in my hand, slowly pumping up and down while he kisses me all over.

Then he drops to his knees and keeps his hands on my waist. I lean back against the shower wall, holding onto the little plastic bar in the middle for support. Carefully, he props one of my legs up over his shoulder.

And I slip.

He catches me, uprights me, and puts his head between my legs. The water isn't just warm now. It's hot, as hot as I'm feeling for Ben right now. I'm holding on for dear life. I don't want to slip again and risk him stopping.

His tongue lashes against me and my other hand goes to his strong shoulder, pus.h.i.+ng myself against the shower wall to keep from sliding. He parts me with his fingers, hot tongue on my c.l.i.t, and slips two fingers inside, working along with the rhythm of his mouth. He pushes against my g-spot, holds his fingers there for a second, then releases, all the while he's licking and sucking and-holy f.u.c.k-using his teeth just enough to drive me absolutely wild.

I'm screaming his name in just minutes, coming so hard he has to hold me up to keep me from falling. I'm tingly all over from the o.r.g.a.s.m, panting and heart racing. He hooks his arms under mine and pulls me to him.

"Felicity," he says and looks into my eyes. "I ... I think I-"

Thunder booms above us. The storm is coming in fast. It's probably going to be bad. There's something unsafe about being in the shower during a storm, right? I can't think straight, and I honestly don't care.

I wrap my arms around Ben and take a breath, steadying myself before I bend my still shaking legs. I take a second to appreciate the girth of his d.i.c.k before opening my mouth and welcoming it in. I take my time, enjoying feeling Ben squirm from pleasure, hearing him pant and groan until he's so close he pulls back and lifts me up.

He spins me around and I bend over, my a.s.s against his front. He enters from behind, reaching around to stroke me while he thrusts in and out, fast then slow, until we are both coming at the same time. I've never had that-o.r.g.a.s.ming together at the same exact moment-but I've always wanted to.

We're out of breath, panting, and not at all clean, when I shut the water off and grab towels. Rain and wind slap the small cabin, and the lights flicker.

"Storms come fast and hard off the lake," I comment as I dry myself off.

"Kind of like you," Ben says with a grin.

I shake my head and smile, legs still unsteady. I move over in front of the mirror, flip my head upside down, and wrap my dripping hair in the towel. Hastily, I rub lotion over my sunburned skin, then wind my way into the bedroom and collapse into bed. Ben joins me, pulling the blankets over our naked bodies.

I yank the towel off my head and drop it on the floor, wiggling closer to Ben. He envelopes me in his muscular arms, and we drift to sleep, snuggled safe inside together, listening to the storm rage around us.

It's still going strong when we wake at nine.

"This is good sleeping weather," Ben mumbles and rolls over, lazily throwing his arm around me. "And I think I can sleep all day."

"Me too," I say and adjust my pillow. It's only a matter of minutes until the rain and the wind lull me back to sleep. We don't get up again until close to noon. Ben is sprawled out when I slip out of bed. A day filled with stuffing my face and drinking leaves my stomach not so happy.

I hurry to the bathroom, needing a few minutes alone before Ben gets up. I close the door. Turning on the fan is too obvious. Well, I do need to shower. I nod, thinking that yes, this shall work. The water goes on and I'm about to sit down when the bathroom door opens.

"Showering without me?" Ben asks, giving me that I'm-going-to-f.u.c.k-you-again look. When I don't return it, he raises his eyebrows. "It's fine if you want to."

"It's not that," I blurt.

"Then what is it?"

I try to come up with a lie but shake my head. I hate how women aren't supposed to admit they go to the bathroom yet everybody has to take a poo every now and then. "I was using the shower to cover up the fact that I really need to p.o.o.p."

Ben bursts out laughing. "Yeah, don't want to be in here for that."

My cheeks heat up just a bit. I refuse to be embarra.s.sed by a totally normal body function. "Raincheck?"

"Maybe in a while, once the air clears. Should I pack my stuff?"

"Yeah, we can do that then go to breakfast, well, lunch."

Ben still has a look of amus.e.m.e.nt on his face. "I'll work on that while you take care of business."

I press my lips together but end up laughing. "Deal." I do take a shower too, since there is still sand in my hair that needs to be washed out. I get out, towel my hair, and get dressed while Ben hops in for a quick shower.

Since it's raining and we need to leave soon anyway, we drive to my parents' house and I get my dad to open the garage door so we can run in and stay dry. We eat leftovers from last night, say our goodbyes, and head home.

An hour into our drive, Ben tells me he has two events to go to this week. He doesn't even mention bringing me with. After a weekend like we just had, I don't know how much more it will take for him to want me to be his girlfriend and be worthy of going to fancy art s.h.i.+t with him.

I think about it for too long, and I use the excuse of being tired when Ben asks why I'm not talking. I force myself to put on a smile the rest of the way.

"I'm starving," Ben says when we pull into my driveway.

"Come in and I'll make you something," I say. "Mac and cheese sounds good."

"It does, actually. I haven't had that in a while."

I raise an eyebrow. I thought all single people lived off of a diet that consisted of at least 50% mac and cheese. He brings in my suitcase, sets it in my room, and joins me in the kitchen. I'm feeling better and not so insecure when we take our bowls into the living room.

"I don't want to go to work tomorrow," I say and take a bite of food. Ben just nods, his mouth too full to answer. "Even though it was just as weekend thing, I feel like I need a day to recover."

"Me too," he agrees once he's swallowed. "I probably will take tomorrow off. Perks of being my own boss."

"That is so not fair."

"You went into the wrong profession."

"Apparently." I take another few bites. "I have a feeling you're going to have an awkward reunion with your secretary when you do go back too."

He raises his eyebrows. "You can say that. And I'm sorry she gave you s.h.i.+t."

"Why are you sorry?" I finish my mac and cheese and set the bowl down on the floor for Ser Pounce. He likes to lick the leftover cheese sauce.

"Ah, f.u.c.k. I forgot you didn't know."

My throat goes dry. That's never a good thing to hear. "Didn't know what?"

"I know you guys had a bad history in high school or whatever, but Mindy was extra b.i.t.c.hy because she's jealous of you."

There's only one reason she'd be jealous of me, and that involves Ben. "She likes you?"

He nods. "I don't think she ever got over-"

"Got over? Wait. You two had a ... a..." I couldn't bring myself to say it.

"Yeah, we dated when she first started working for me."

My heart stops beating. Ben, perfect, amazing Ben, dated Mindy f.u.c.king Abraham. I blink, then turn away.

"It wasn't anything serious," Ben says and it's like his voice is echoing in my head. "We went out and hooked up a few times, that's it."

Now my stomach is twisting. Hooked up. He hooked up with Mindy. I can't hide the abhorrence on my face.

"Felicity?"

"You ... you and Mindy?" You and Undesirable No. 1, more like it. "Hooked up?"

"Yeah, but it's over and it never meant anything to me."

All I hear is how what we have might not mean anything to him as well. "I just..."

"It's not a big deal," he says slowly. "I've hooked up with other people in the past, and I'm sure you have. Actually I know you have because you're quite good at more than a few things, and I'm thankful for that."

"It is a big deal," I say and I know the words are coming out of my mouth on their own accord and there is no stopping once I get started. "You put your d.i.c.k in her, and then in me, so it's basically like I had s.e.x with her."

"It doesn't quite work like that," he says. "You're mad, but I'm not really sure why. I didn't do anything wrong, Felicity." He's getting defensive.

I blink. Somewhere, deep down in the hallow pit that is now my heart, I know he's right. But another part of me, the part that I try to ignore, the part that houses all my insecurities, tells me this makes sense.

It makes sense that Ben would date someone like Mindy. It makes sense now why he wouldn't take me to a fancy art event when he could take someone like Mindy instead. She might be a c.u.m-guzzling thunder c.u.n.t, but she doesn't look like one. Well, as long as she keeps those fake t.i.ts under control and her stupid mouth shut.

No, Mindy is perfect on the outside. Perfect hair, perfect skin. Her nails are always polished and not chipping. She'd never wear miss-matched socks or forget deodorant or have frizzy hair when it rains or even when it doesn't.

She might not be a nice person, but can't tell by looking at her.

And my Ben-my sweet, wonderful, pa.s.sionate Ben, who I'm pretty sure I'm f.u.c.king in love with-dated her. But it's more than that. He dated the type of woman that I hate. The type that brings others down to make herself feel better, who doesn't give a s.h.i.+t about what's right or wrong as long as it benefits her.

Suddenly I'm a teenager again watching Mindy shove her tongue down the throat of my crush.

"Hey," he says. "Come on." He nudges my arm. "Let it go."

"I need time to process this, to process that you literally slept with the enemy."

"I thought you said you were over that."

"I am! But still ... she's f.u.c.king married and has a kid! You slept with a married woman!"

"She's getting a divorce, and she doesn't have any kids I'm aware of, just a niece. She told me they were separated at the time and not living together. I believed her and didn't check into the facts. I never would have hooked up with her if I knew she was still living with her husband, I promise. I'm not like that. And it wasn't anything serious. Just a fling that meant nothing to me."