Misbehaving (9 page)

“The part where you’re inside me.”

Ben laughed, a warm, throaty laugh that made her toes curl.

“Mine, too.”

She moved slowly against him, wanting to stay like this all day long. She wished the wedding could be postponed, if just for a day or two, anything to give her and Ben more time together.

Ben brushed her hair off her back and over her shoulders. He kissed her neck, the center of her spine, bit her little bee tattoo. He took her hips in his hands and ground her against his lap as his cock tunneled deeper into her. He pushed her thighs wider apart, draping each leg over his knees. Beatriz groaned as Ben found her clitoris and pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. It swelled against his touch. The deep muscles in her vagina clenched around him as her clitoris throbbed against his fingers.

She reached down between her legs and touched him where he entered her. She felt so connected to him right now, and in more ways than just physically. So many men were intimidated by her sexual confidence and her work as a sex blogger. Her vibrators and dildos and array of sex books and erotica made them nervous, made them feel emasculated as one former lover told her.
You shouldn’t need all this stuff
, he’d said, pointing at her sex toys.
I should be enough for you
.

Beatriz had smiled when she answered,
But you’re not
.

So much for that guy. She didn’t even remember his name.

Ben seemed to find her work funny and sexy, and he’d even admitted he masturbated reading her columns. Not what she’d ever intended, but she certainly couldn’t complain about the mental image of Ben touching himself while reading about her touching herself.

“What would you do if I showed you my vibrator collection?” Beatriz asked as Ben rubbed tight circles around her clitoris.

“I don’t know. Probably ask if I could use them all on you.”

“Good answer.” Beatriz relaxed against his chest again while Ben continued to play with her clitoris. She closed her eyes and focused on her own pleasure as scenes from last night’s lovemaking flashed across her mind’s eye. The memories morphed into fantasies. She’d love to take Ben to the very edge of sex where all the walls of shame and fear came down, where flesh met fantasy, where the two of them could tell each other all their secret desires and then live them out every night in their bed.

Every night of her life…

Beatriz orgasmed in near silence, the force of the climax sucking the air out of her lungs.

“Stand up,” Ben whispered. “Put your hands on the bed.”

Beatriz did as instructed. She’d do anything Ben told her to do. That was one of the fantasies she longed to share with him. Some nights she’d love it if he took total possession of her body, made her his toy, his pet, his plaything, his slave.

Ben pushed her sundress up and entered her again from behind. He thrust hard into her, hard enough she gasped a little. But she didn’t ask him to stop or slow down or go easy on her. That was the last thing she wanted. She wanted to feel his cock ramming into her, wanted to feel like his desire for her had overridden his reason, restraint and self-control. She relished the feel of his fingers digging into her hips. She wanted to feel every inch of him as he pulled out and slammed back into her.

“Fuck,” Ben breathed, his voice barely more than a strangled whisper. It was the sexiest word he could have uttered. She heard the echo of his pleasure in that one word, the primal cry of a man lost in ecstasy, lost in her. She steadied herself against the bed as best she could even as Ben pounded into her, putting his entire body into his brutal thrusts. She loved that about him. He was always so nonchalant, so relaxed and cool out in the world. But during sex he dropped all pretense and threw his whole being into pleasing her and himself.

Pounding…pounding…she was lost in the pounding…. With a fierce final thrust Ben came, his hand on her shoulder, holding on to her as if she alone kept him from collapsing. Ben slowly pulled out of her as she remained bent over the bed trying to catch her breath. The sex had ended, but still the pounding continued.

“What the hell?” she asked.

“Shit,” Ben said, laughing. “Someone’s pounding on the door. Can you get that?”

“Bea, it’s Claudia!” came a voice through the door.

“Just a second,” Beatriz yelled back.

Ben disappeared into the bathroom while Beatriz pulled her dress up over her breasts and grabbed a tissue. She wiped herself off between her legs, pulled on the first pair of underwear she found and threw open the door.

Claudia rushed into the room and started pacing.

“What’s wrong?” Beatriz asked, seeing the panic on Claudia’s face. Ben came out of the bathroom looking much more put together than he did when he went in it.

“Henry called off the wedding,” Claudia said, her face a mask of pure fear and shock.

“What?” Beatriz nearly shouted the word.

“What the fuck?” Ben asked, sounding as shocked as her.

“Henry got up at lunch to run to the bathroom. I asked him to stop by the front desk…” Claudia wrung her hands. “I got this text message from him.”

She handed Beatriz her phone.

Beatriz stared at the message in disbelief.

“What’s it say?” Ben asked.

“He says, ‘The wedding’s off. I’m sorry I’m not enough for you. Hope you find another man to swing with. If I wasn’t enough for you, you could have told me before we started planning the wedding. I’m staying at another hotel. Maybe we can talk tomorrow. For now, don’t even call me.’”

“What does he mean?” Ben demanded. “He’s not enough for you?”

Claudia ran her hands through her hair and collapsed onto the bed.

“I don’t know. I have no idea where any of this is coming from. I’ve never cheated on him, never wanted to. We’ve been together almost seven years. I didn’t invite any old boyfriends to the wedding. I don’t know what he’s talking about. None of this makes sense.”

“Did you try to call him?” Beatriz asked, putting her arm around Claudia.

“Yes, but he didn’t answer. I tried ten times. The wedding’s in four days. Our families are here. Our friends. Everyone. And he’s just…gone. And he won’t even tell me why.”

Beatriz nearly burst into tears of pure sympathy. And she would have if she wasn’t so furious at Henry.

“It’s a good thing he’s gone or I would rip his heart out and eat it for dinner,” Beatriz said.

“Can we get his side of the story first?” Ben asked.

“There is no
his
side of the story,” Beatriz said, enraged that Ben would even suggest there was a “his” side of the story. “Claudia’s not cheating on him with anybody. What possible excuse could he have for acting like this?”

“Something set him off. Henry is the most boring man alive. He doesn’t have a good enough imagination to even be paranoid,” Ben said. “I’m not saying he’s in the right. Just—”

“Just what?” Beatriz demanded. “Just you and Henry pulling this college-boy bros-before-hoes bullshit again?”

“What are you talking about?” Ben asked.

“Back in college, you and Henry just went off and decided you and I shouldn’t be together. And now Henry’s decided to dump Claudia and you’re taking his side.”

“I’m not taking his side, Bea. I’m just saying he has one.”

“So you’re saying he’s right? That Claudia’s cheating on him?”

“I’m not saying that.” Ben raised both his hands in surrender. “I’m saying something set him off.”

“He’s decided to lose his fucking mind four days before the wedding. That’s what set him off, Ben. You want to take his side?” Beatriz pointed at the door. “It’s out there. Go find it. And when you find him, you two just have a nice life together. We’re done with you both.”

Ben stared at Beatriz. She could see the shock and the hurt on his face.

“Look, you’re right to be pissed at me,” Ben said.

“Yes, I am. And that should be the end of your sentence,” Beatriz said. Ben opened his mouth and closed it again. He turned his back on her and walked out. Nothing surprising there. He’d done it before. She should have known he’d do it again. “
Hasta la madre
…I swear if Henry doesn’t get his ass back here…”

“I can’t tell everyone this is happening. I can’t,” Claudia said and Beatriz turned her attention back to her sister. “Everyone will freak out. Mom will have a heart attack.”

“Oh, God, she will,” Beatriz said. Their mother had burst into sobs last night just at the sight of Claudia and Beatriz standing side by side for the first time in over a year. Her girls, she cried. Her two beautiful girls…Mom cried at the drop of a hat. This constituted far worse than a simple hat drop.

“We’ll tell everyone you’ve got mild food poisoning and you’re not going to be able to leave your hotel room for a day or so,” Beatriz said. “No one will know anything’s up. They’ll just think you and Henry are holed up while you’re puking your guts out. Okay?”

“Okay,” Claudia said and blew her nose extravagantly. “You and Ben were fucking when I knocked on the door, weren’t you?”

“Like demon bunnies,” Beatriz admitted. She gave Claudia a kiss on the forehead as she stood up.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We were 99 percent finished by that point.” She handed Claudia a bottle of water and a tissue. “And we’re 100 percent finished now.”

Chapter Ten

In the hallway outside Beatriz’s room, Ben stood with his back resting on the wall and his hands balled up into fists. He would beat Henry to death for pulling this bullshit on them all. Things were going so well with Beatriz, and Henry had to go and fuck it all up by flipping out on everyone. And Claudia was in there sobbing her heart out while he was standing in the hallway eating his heart out. And Beatriz was pissed. Pissed enough to bust out the Spanish and that meant business.

That was it. Henry was a dead man.

Ben checked the internet for all the hotels within a twenty-five-mile radius. He’d find Henry and haul him back by the scruff of his neck and throw him at Beatriz and Claudia’s feet. Let her accuse him of the bros before hoes mentality then.

Luckily Henry and Claudia had chosen this area of upstate New York for its small town beauty and unspoiled river vistas. That meant he had only ten hotels to comb through in the area on his hunt for Henry. Five were within walking distance. The other five would require cabbing it or renting a car. He started with the furthest one out that he could reach by foot. No luck at the Umstead. No one claimed to have seen a deranged but roguishly handsome twenty-six-year-old man walking around accusing innocent women of mysterious crimes. Ben flashed everyone at the desk a picture of Henry and Claudia he had on his phone. No dice. The Capital Inn was also a big fail. He also struck out at the Pinehurst and the Washington. He bribed every clerk at every hotel to call him if Henry showed up.

Disappointed and disgusted, Ben returned to the Hotel Essex. The Essex desk clerk helped him round up a rental car, and Ben headed out again to the next town over and the other five hotels he wanted to check out. If he failed there, he didn’t know what to do. Check the airport maybe? Call the police? Hire a hit man?

Hit man—that sounded about right. “Henry, you asshole,” Ben growled as he turned out of the hotel parking lot. Ben knew he should be seven inches inside Beatriz right at this moment, not out hunting down a runaway groom who’d decided to break up with his fiancée and reality on the same day.

He shoved all thoughts of Beatriz away. He was a man on a mission—a mission to kill another man. He drove into the next town over and found the first hotel. Then the second. Then the third. After the fourth he stopped and called Henry again. No answer. Ben didn’t find Henry at the fifth and final hotel either. He hated the thought of returning to the Essex a failure. He would find and throttle Henry and he would do it for Beatriz. And Claudia. And him. And for Henry, too. And maybe he’d throttle him just for the fun of it.

So Henry wasn’t at any of the other hotels in town. Where else could the man be staying? Did he get a fake mustache and shave his head and book himself in under a fake identity? No way. Henry had a good heart and great work ethic, but Claudia was the brains of the operation. Ben had checked every hotel within any reasonable driving distance. Nothing to do but go back to the Essex empty-handed and hope Henry came to his senses.

“Henry, if you cost me Beatriz again so help me…” Ben muttered as he returned the car to the rental office and walked the two blocks back to the Essex. “You’re not smart enough to hide anywhere. Where the hell could you be?”

Once the words came out, Ben knew exactly where Henry was hiding.

He raced to the front desk of the Essex and rang the bell.

“Can you call up to Henry Bard’s room?” he asked the clerk.

The clerk typed something into the computer.

“Which room? He’s got two booked.”

“I knew it.” Ben slapped his hand on the counter. That bastard had booked a second room at the Essex under his own name. It was such a stupid hiding place it was actually smart. “I don’t know. What are the room numbers?”

“I can’t give those out, sir.”

“Fine. Call both of them.”

The clerk rang both hotel rooms. He shook his head. No one had answered.

“That’s it, I’m killing him.” Ben thanked the clerk for trying and started to wander around the lobby. The Hotel Essex had only six floors. Maybe he could walk the halls and knock on every single door until Henry answered. But then he ran the risk of knocking on the door of Henry’s mom, Claudia and Beatriz’s mom, the maid of honor, wedding guests. Knocking on doors wouldn’t work. He just needed a room number. He’d give anything for a damn room number.

“Can I help you, sir?” came a voice from behind him. Ben spun around and saw a young man in a bellhop’s uniform with
Keaton
on his nametag.

“Can you be bribed?” Ben asked, deciding to cut through pretense.

“Yes. Yes, I can,” Keaton the bellhop said and gave Ben a jaunty salute.

“Good. Will a Jackson buy me a room number?”

“Tito?”

“Andrew.”

“Janet?”