"Whoa, whoa. No need for that sort of behavior," he said.
"It was an accident," I said, panting. And it was, though I wouldn't have felt too badly about it if I'd caught him with my knee. Okay, maybe a little bad. "But you would have deserved it if it wasn't."
I didn't mean it, not at all, but he didn't need to know that.
"Vicious woman," he commented, giving me a quick kiss. Obviously, he wasn't fooled by my cold words.
His hand trailed up my abdomen to my breasts and I wiggled against him. I was definitely interested in another round, but I needed a break.
"I thought we were going to eat and watch a movie," I said, letting my head fall back so I could look up at him. He was so much taller than me that I could almost accomplish it.
Ben laughed and released me. "I didn't say anything about eating."
Probably because he'd done that earlier. I shivered at the memory. "Well, I did. I didn't get to eat dinner because someone didn't have it ready when I got here."
He shook his head and I walked over to the pile of clothes on the floor, fishing around until I came up with my ginormous t-shirt. It was loose and came down to mid-thigh. And it was the softest piece of clothing I owned.
Perfect. I would be adequately covered and comfortable.
When I straightened to slip it over my head, I squeaked and jumped back. Ben stood inches away.
"You don't have to get dressed," he said.
"Oh, yes, I do."
His hands came to my waist. "No one will be here to see."
"It's not that. I don't know you all that well, but I do know enough to understand that you won't keep your hands to yourself if I parade around you naked."
He grinned and released me. "Good point."
"But you can feel free to stay naked, if you want. I have incredible self-control."
"Says the woman who didn't get to eat the dinner I slaved over because she jumped me the moment she walked in the door."
Of course he would point out the real reason we hadn't gotten to dinner.
"Touché."
I would never ever tell him, but he was just as much fun out of bed as he was in it. I was in danger of actually liking him as a human being.
Normally, this is where my brain started a red alert, but I was lulled into a sense of complacency. I could see Ben being one of my guy friends. If I wasn't so interested in his penis.
So my brain rationalized this whole "I like him" thing as understandable because he was the type of guy I could consider a friend.
Yes, I believed all this.
Ben pulled on the athletic shorts he'd been wearing when I came in. They were the real cause of my behavior upon my arrival. It had been obvious that he wasn't wearing anything under those shorts when I saw them, and he'd been shirtless as well.
I guess a bad boy in off mode was a turn on for me.
I tried not to stare at the play of muscles in his back as I followed him to the kitchen. I think he had eyes in the back of his head because he always seemed to know when I was ogling him and it was a little embarrassing. He knew he was hot. He didn't need my drooling to reinforce it. Plus, I didn't want him to know that I couldn't keep my eyes off him. It gave him too much power over me and I had no doubt he would take advantage of it.
Especially since I now liked him as a person rather than just a hot bad boy I could blow off steam with.
Ben poured a cherry Coke into a glass filled with ice, stuck a straw in it, and placed it on the counter in front of me. "Have a seat at the bar. Dinner'll be ready in a few minutes."
He'd paid enough attention to what I said to remember that I liked cherry Coke but rarely had it because I couldn't drink it without a straw. Yes, it was a strange quirk, but it was mine and I wasn't ashamed. Why did his remembering that strike me as important?
