RUIN (The RUIN Series Book 1) (5 page)

"Doug said you didn't go home with him." Her voice is behind me. I hadn't closed the door to my bedroom when I raced into the apartment and down the hall. I knew I was alone the moment my key unhinged the lock. The space was quiet and empty.

I don't turn around to greet her. "He just wanted to have sex with me."

"Don't all men just want to have sex?" She blinks through a smile. "Is your face bruised?"

I instinctively want to retreat as she walks towards me. "I tripped and fell."

"What?" Her hand dashes over my cheek, skimming the edge of a bruise. "When did you fall?"

"When I thought I could wear heels on a sidewalk grate." I pull her hand into mine. If she pushes my hair away from my forehead, she'll see the abrasion. I don’t want that.

Her face lights up with a smile. "I've done that too. I fell into a hotdog vendor's cart a few months ago."

I laugh at the vision of that. "You're lucky he didn't sue you."

"I know, right?" She pats my forearm. "You're home early. Did you go to work today?"

Lying to Alexa isn't a path I want to venture down. I'm sure she's told me her fair share of small white lies, just as I have to her since we met. If I make a decision to lie now, I'll be changing the entire course of our friendship. "I can pick up my keys to my apartment in an hour."

She raises her eyebrows at me. "Seriously? I'll come with you."

"I'm excited to have my own place." I continue the detour around the subject of where I was last night, hoping she'll hold on for the ride.

She doesn't. "You were with a man, weren't you?"

I nod as my hand jumps to my chin.

"Maybe I can meet him sometime?" She tilts her face forward. "Is he someone I should meet?"

You have no idea, Alexa. You have no fucking idea.

"You'll meet him," I say with every confidence. "I know you will."

"Good." She turns on her heel. "I'll tell Noah we're going to your place."

***

I plow through my day, listening to Vivian's incessant ramblings about what happened on the latest episode of a crime drama that hasn't seen a production schedule in more than a decade. I should really tell her to Google that entire episode guide to save her the endless hours she'll stay glued to her laptop, watching a handsome, fit detective solve a crime, without any strings attached, in less than an hour.

"Were you seriously hurt?"

I turn abruptly to face the voice asking the almost-too-personal question. "I'm fine."

It's Vivian. The concern in her tone is masking the unusually high lilt in her voice. "I was worried when a doctor called."

"I was concerned about missing work," I offer in response. "I wanted to be here. I'm sorry I couldn't be."

"I'm shocked you're here today." She takes a step closer to me and I swear I see actual compassion in her eyes. "It sounds like it was a pretty hard fall."

"I was clumsy," I chuckle. "I need to get better at walking in heels."

"He sounded nice," she begins before she takes a short breath. "I mean the doctor that called about you, he sounded really nice."

"He was helpful." My words are clipped. I don’t want to delve into the personal details of my relationship with Ben.

She taps her hand on the edge of my desk. "Is he accepting new patients?"

I purse my lips together. I have to wonder if she's asking because she's nursing a pain or a stubborn cough that won't go away or if her interest in Ben falls beyond the scope of what he can offer in his office. "I have no idea."

"What's his name again?" She skims her finger across the screen of her smart phone.

"Dr. Foster," I say slowly. "His name is Dr. Ben Foster."

She taps something into her phone before she turns to walk away. "Thanks, Kayla. I'll give him a call."

As I watch her walk away my mind instantly wanders to thoughts about how many other women search Ben out to find out exactly how thorough his bedside manner is.

"How often do you fuck your patients?" The words sound less hostile coming out through a moan. This isn't the time to talk about this. I shouldn't be thinking of any other woman. I shouldn't be…

"Kayla," he spits my name out between heavy thrusts. "I'm fucking you."

He is fucking me. It's hard and slow. I'm on my back, his large frame hovering above me as he leisurely slides his cock into me, over and over again.

"Harder," I beg.

The friction is pushing me to the edge quickly. He ate me as soon as I let him into my apartment. He was on his knees, my back splayed against the door, my skirt a twisted mess around my waist as he buried his tongue inside of me, pulling my lust from within, pouring it onto his tongue.

"You're so tight." He growls the words into my neck. His tongue is tearing a path across my flesh. "Your cunt is so wet."

My hips buck involuntarily at the words. He's so direct and uninhibited. His body owns his pleasure and he's not afraid to take what he wants. I've never been with a man who is so commanding in bed. I've never felt my desire heightened to this extreme. This is a man made to fuck women, hard and senseless.

"I'm going to come again," I spit the words out into his shoulder. "It feels too good."

"It's so good." He pumps harder. His cock plunges deep with each lunge.

I cry out as I feel my body tense. I hold steady to his shoulders, knowing that if I let go, my body will betray me. I'll flail helplessly. I won't be able to control its instinctive reaction. I'll be lost and I'll miss my chance to enjoy his release.

He watches my face intently as I come. His lips part slightly, his tongue darts over them. "You're so beautiful when you come."

I stare at him, challenging him with a deep movement of my hips. "Come, Ben."

"Not yet." The movement of his head mirrors his words. "I don't want it to end."

I push harder, grinding my heels into the bed. "I've never been fucked like this before."

His eyes widen, his breathing stalls and he drops a litany of curse words from his lips as he pumps his hips into me.

***

"What kind of a doctor are you?" I pull the sheet over my breasts as I watch him toss the condom in a wastebasket in the corner of my bedroom.

He turns his head sharply; the grin on his face is disarming. "A very good one."

I don't doubt that. He has a compassionate edge to him that I haven't noticed in Noah. I have seen small flashes of concern in his gestures and the way he cares for Alexa, but Noah has built walls around himself emotionally because of the stabbing. Ben doesn't have those same restraints.  I don't push the issue. It's not pressing on my mind like other questions are right now. "When will you talk to Noah?"

"I thought we were talking about me." His tone is teasing in an abstract way. He's preoccupied. I can sense it by the way he's reaching for his smartphone.

"I want to talk about Noah." I need to talk about Noah. I want to understand what happened between the two of them that was so significant it fractured their bond. "I'd like to understand your relationship with him."

He turns to face me now, his hand dropping to his hip. "It's very complicated, Kayla."

"He used the same word to describe it." I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping the sheet around me. "Noah said it was complicated too."

His brow peaks slightly at the admission. "What else has he said about me?"

It's a question typically reserved for teenage girls when they have their eye on a boy who will only share his feelings through a friend. "Noah doesn't talk about you."

I can't gauge his reaction. He throws his eyes to the floor to mask whatever emotion might be there. "I don't like talking about him either."

He's looking for an out. He came here to fuck me with the hope that I'd forget the reason I initially called him over. "I can't keep this from Alexa much longer."

The '
this'
I'm referring to isn't singular. It's not solely about the fact that I'm sleeping with Ben. It's not exclusively centered on my knowledge of who Noah's brother is and the fact that he lives only a few blocks from them. It's the entire fucked up scenario. I just had amazing sex with Noah Foster's twin brother. I ache inside to be near him when I'm not. I'm falling for him and whether that's my heart's way of masking the pain of Parker's rejection or it's genuine and is coming from a place of purity, it's my truth. My life is fucked up. My heart is twisting about in my chest and the only person I can talk to it about is the man at the center of my emotional hurricane.

"It won't be much longer." It's a classic technique meant to stall me. He doesn’t offer anything to back it up. His eyes dart to the screen of his smartphone again.

Ultimatums have no place in the bedroom unless I've been denied an orgasm. In that case I'll use them to my full advantage, but now, in the tortured place my mind is I'm going to pull one out and shoot it at him.

"If you don't talk to Noah soon about us, I will." There's not a drop of hesitation in the words. There can't be. I'm serious.

He drops his phone on the dresser before walking to stand next to the bed. "It's not as cut and dry as that, Kayla. He believes things about me that aren't true. He'll turn you against me."

"He can't." My voice is insistent. "There's nothing that Noah can tell me that will change what I'm feeling."

"What are you feeling?" His hand scrubs the back of his neck. The nervous energy that surrounds him is palpable.

"I like you," I offer.

He pinches his fingers together on the bridge of his nose. "I like you too, Kayla. I really like you."

I smile at the confession. "I'd like to see you more often."

"I want to see you every day," he says in a low voice. "I actually want to see you every moment of every day. I wish that I could."

"It's so strange that I met your family before I met you. Do you talk to your father?" I throw the question out as bait. I want to show him that I'm already connected to his family in a roundabout way. Smoothing over the issues between him and Noah is inevitable, given the budding connection between us. Alexa is an integral part of my life, just as I'm an integral part of hers.

"My father?" He parrots back with a furrowed brow. "Do you know my father?"

"I've met him." Once. It was a few months ago at Noah's thirtieth birthday party. His father was brilliant, bold and very charismatic. I remember thinking that if my mother was single; Ron Foster would be the perfect fit for her. Now, the thought borders on uncomfortable.

"When? Where?" The questions rush out on top of one another.

"On Noah's birthday," I begin. "Wait. That was your birthday too."

He closes his eyes. A heavy breath draws his muscular chest up. "My father and Noah have a special bond."

It's an opening to something more. "What do you mean?" I inch sideways on the bed. It's a silent invitation for Ben to sit next to me. He doesn't move.

He teeters back on his heel. "He's closer to Noah than he is to me."

I'm getting nowhere. We're traveling in a circle that keeps leading us back to exactly the same place. "Ben, I've never had issues with my family." I haven't. When I was younger the disagreements were brief and forgotten easily.

"You're lucky."

"I know," I offer. "Alexa is part of my family though. She's like a sister to me."

He sits on the edge of the bed now, his thigh moving quickly up and down as his foot taps the floor. His cock dangles there, adrift in the space between his legs. "You're asking a lot of me."

The words sting even if their intention was something softer. He's going to turn this on me. He's going to tell me I'm pushing him into something he's not ready for. I hear it. I hear it beneath the rhythmic strumming of his heel against the hardwood floor. I see it in his shoulders, the way they're set forward and tense. 

"I'm not. I'm telling you that if we continue to see each other I can't hide who you are from them. I'm asking you to talk to him and explain our relationship."

"What if I don't?" It's a challenge. His eyes don't engage me at all. He's staring straight ahead. I doubt he's focused on anything but the next words that will leave my lips.

"I'll talk to Alexa. She'll tell him."

He lets out a heavy sigh. His head drops to his hands. "This is so fucked up."

I reach for him, as much to quell the anxiety I see in his stance as to quiet my own shaking heart. I feel trapped in the middle of a family feud when I should be watching it from the sidelines. This is Alexa's family. These men make up the fabric of her future children's history. They are both a part of who her family will become. I didn't want this. No one would ask to be part of this willingly.

He recoils the instant my fingers brush against his knee. He's on his feet, his hands reaching wildly for his clothing. His boxer briefs are on in a flash. The slacks he was wearing when he arrived are pulled back on and buttoned in haste. The shirt that he slung over the back of a wooden chair in the corner is now over his shoulders. "I can't…"

He can't. He can't what. What the fuck can't he do?

I want to jump to my feet and stop him. I should. I feel connected to him in ways I haven't felt with a man before. This is different. He's not the same as anyone I've ever known.

"I need to go. I'm sorry."

Parker. Those are Parker's words. He said those exact words to me as he packed up a suitcase and slammed it shut with a loud finality before he ran out of my life and into the night.

"Go," I say without thought. The words come from inside of me. "Just go."

I won't get on my knees and beg for a man to stay again. I won't sacrifice myself for a brief reprieve from the pain. He's leaving. I'll let him. Whatever this was, it's over now too.