You and I Together Read online

  “I just worry about him.” She says apologetically.

  “Of course you do, he's your son.” I say.

  “Do you know that you are the first girl he's ever brought home?” She asks, standing and slowly crossing the small space to the mantel that sits just above the fireplace on the far wall.

  “But I thought.....” I start, but she cuts me off.

  “He's had a lot of girlfriends.” She repeats her previous statement and then looks back at me, a smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. “I call them that. I don't think he realizes that I have seen the pictures floating around the internet. He probably doesn't even think I know what the internet is.” She laughs to herself, turning back to the mantel to retrieve a picture before slowly crossing the space towards me.

  “I prefer to call them girlfriends. I'm sure he has a much more appropriate name for those women.” I can't help but laugh lightly at her words. “But as I was saying. You are the first girl I have ever met. The first girl that has ever been to my home. Even as a teenager, Bentley never brought home dates. I used to think it was out of respect for me, but over time I started to realize that it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with him and his lack of trust in people. I think a lot of that stemmed from his biological father.” She pauses, taking one last look at the picture she is holding before handing it to me, my eyes immediately falling on a family photo. One that was taken long ago.

  A much younger Rebecca is smiling wide-eyed into the camera, a handsome light haired man at her side. But the moment I spot the young Bentley sitting in front of them, it's like he's the only one in the photo. Bright blue eyes and those adorable dimples light up the cutest face I have ever seen. He looks so happy, so innocent. For a moment, I imagine that this is what our son would look like if me and Bentley ever had children of our own.

  The thought, while beautiful, sends a whole different kind of panic and fear through me and I immediately shake off the thought. Turning my eyes towards Rebecca, I see that she is studying me.

  “That is the man that raised Bentley. My Lucas.” She says, smiling down at the photograph in my hand. “Bentley hasn't been the same since we lost him.” She reaches for the photo, taking it from my hand when I reach it out to her. “It's been nearly five years but everyday that passes feels like an eternity without him.”

  “Bentley talks very highly of him. He sounds like he was a wonderful man.” I speak softly, not really sure what else to say but feeling like I need to respond.

  “He was.” She smiles, taking the picture back to the mantel. Returning it to its original spot, she turns back to face me. “When he lost soccer, I had never seen him so low. He had built his entire life around one thing and in the blink of an eye, he lost it. But Lucas knew how to handle him. When Bentley shut the world out, Lucas pulled him back. He gave him ideas, things that Bentley could focus on. He had made enough money from his soccer career that he could do just about anything he wanted. Slowly, he started coming around again and Lucas even helped him with the start up of Allure.” She says, surprising me with her statement. I don't know why I'm surprised that she knows about Allure. Of course she does, she's his mother. “But even then, something still wasn't right. It hasn't been since his injury. Like a piece of him died out on that field.”

  I can feel the hard knot forming in my throat as the pain of a loss I am all too familiar with comes to the surface, bringing with it not only my own pain and loss, but Bentley's as well. This is the most I have heard about his career in soccer, considering he refuses to even speak of it.

  “And per usual, I digress.” She says, laughing to herself. “The point that I am trying to make Anna, is that I have not seen Bentley this happy in a very long time. The way he looks at you, well, it's enough to bring happiness and sorrow to a mother's heart.” She says, crossing the room and reclaiming her seat on the couch.

  I open my mouth to respond but then close it again when I catch sight of Bentley stepping into the room. Crossing it in the matter of two seconds flat, he leans down and kisses my forehead the moment he reaches me.

  “Everything okay?” He asks, looking curiously between me and his mother.

  “Everything is wonderful.” Rebecca answers, her smile locked firmly on me.

  “Is it time for cake yet?” Shira's voice dances behind me, pulling my attention to her and Ethan as they re-enter the room “Every year Rebecca makes the most incredible Red Velvet Cake. It is amazing.” She practically sings the word.

  “It's not that good. But thank you honey.” Rebecca shakes her head at Shira as she stands and makes her way into the kitchen, in the next room over.

  “We won't stay much longer.” Bentley promises, taking my hand as he collapses back down on the floor by my feet, crossing his legs in front of him. “The dessert I want I can't have in the presence of my mother.” He laughs, giving me a seductive smile as I quickly scan the room to make sure no one else can hear what he is saying.

  Shira and Ethan are talking quietly about something on the couch and seem thoroughly distracted. So I turn back to him and drop my voice to just above a whisper. “What dessert is that?” I ask, suspecting what he's getting at but wanting him to say the words anyways. The simple reply I get has me immediately craving the release that he denied me earlier.

  “You.” His eyes go dark and dance across my face with so much promise, I wonder how I am possibly going to get through the rest of the evening.

  “Why Mr. Reed.” I put on my best southern bell accent. “You sure know how to talk to a lady.” I say, smiling widely when laughter bursts from deep within his chest and echos through the small room.

  I turn to find Shira and Ethan both looking at Bentley like he's lost his mind and then a slow smile curves up the corners of Shira's mouth and her eyes find mine. Giving me a warm smile, she nods her head at me and then turns her attention back to Ethan.

  “Here we go.” Rebecca re-enters the room, carrying a circular glass cake holder containing a perfectly made three layer red velvet cake. Sitting it on the table in the center of the room, she smiles widely at Bentley as she lifts the lid and begins placing candles sporadically all over the top.

  “Seriously mom.” Bentley laughs lightly, shaking his head. “I'm thirty-three years old not thirteen.” He laughs again when she turns her head slightly and sticks out her tongue at him.

  “And thirty-three years ago I spent twenty-three hours in labor bringing you into this world.” She quips. “If I want to put candles on your cake, I think I've earned the right.”

  “You tell him Rebecca.” Shira laughs from the couch, clearly loving the scene taking place in front of her. I'm sure it's night and day compared to how she usually sees Bentley. He's the boss. The one calling the shots. But not here. It is clear to see that when in the presence of his mother, Bentley is the one that takes the orders rather than giving them.

  “Shira.” Bentley warns, a large smile across his face. “And what are you laughing about?” He turns narrowed eyes on me and gives me a playfully mean look when I try to stifle my own laughter.

  “Nothing.” I squeak, looking to Shira who throws me a wink.

  Sitting back, I watch as Rebecca lights exactly thirty-three candles. I watch Bentley, head in his hands, as everyone sings Happy Birthday to him. I watch him reluctantly blow out the candles, his gaze meeting mine just moments before the smoke billows around his face.

  It's so strange how different everything feels here. Rebecca still lives in the same townhouse she raised Bentley in. Her furniture is older and worn, her décor that of which you might find in any average home. There are no traces of wealth or power. Nothing that sets her or her surroundings apart from what my family probably would have lived like.

  It's odd but also refreshing at the same time. It's nice to see that moments of normalcy can actually exist, even in the life of someone like Bentley. I needed this. I needed to see that there is so much more to him than he lets people see, including me.
/>   He hides behind his money and his power, his control and his looks. But not here. Here, he seems relaxed, happy. The smile on his face reminding me of the one I saw in the picture of him as a child just moments ago.

  He catches me watching him out of the corner of my eye as Rebecca makes her way around the room, handing everyone a plate with cake on it. Throwing me a playful wink, he turns his smile to his mother as she hands him the biggest piece.

  My heart instantly swells inside of my chest at the interaction. I am having an immense amount of trouble grasping the amount of happiness and love I feel flooding through me in this moment. A moment where I can imagine this life. A life with Bentley. A life where we have dinner with his family and celebrate birthdays by coming to his mom's for cake. A life with simple things. Where love and happiness are really all that matters.

  “Everything okay?” Bentley asks, pulling my focus to the present moment and the incredible man sitting next to me.

  “Perfect.” I smile, for the first time really meaning it.

  Chapter

  Eighteen

  “Thank you.” Bentley says as he opens the door to his hotel room and ushers me inside. Flipping on the lights, he tosses his things down onto the small table next to the door.

  “For what?” I ask, slipping off my heels before turning to face him.

  “For tonight.” He says, smiling shyly when I begin slowly peeling the straps of my dress down, inch by inch, revealing my pale blue lace bra.

  “Uh huh.” I say, pushing the material down further until it is bunched up at my hips, hoping he will continue. When he doesn't, I speak again. “You don't have to thank me. I didn't do anything.” I point out, loving the feeling of his eyes on my flesh as I push the material past my hips and let the dress fall to the floor.

  His eyes trace along my collarbone and then across my chest before dipping lower to my lace panties that match my bra. His smile stretches further as his eyes find my face again. I can tell he's trying to keep his train of thought and that I am making that task very hard for him.

  “You did actually.” He says, taking a step towards me, his eyes dark. “That's just one of the things I love about you though.” He takes another step and then another until just two feet separate us. “You don't see how incredible you are. How happy you make me just by being you. Having you with me tonight, it meant a lot.” He admits, eyes jumping across my face.

  “Bentley.” I pause, not sure what to say next.

  “You make what used to feel unimportant and frivolous feel like so much more. Every moment means more, simply because you are there.” He says, taking another slow step towards me, his hand reaching out to skirt lightly against my collarbone. “Thank you for going with me. For indulging my mother. Just thank you.”

  My breath hitches at the intensity of his stare and I sway slightly when he takes another step and completely closes the distance between us, his hand skirting around my waist and pulling me firmly against his body.

  “I had a wonderful time.” I manage to get out on a winded breath as he dips in and trails his lips down my jaw. “Thank you for allowing me to be a part of it.” I say, not prepared for the look on his face when he pulls back and meets my gaze.

  “I love you.” The words fall from his lips as he pulls me to him, his lips finding mine instantly and lightly dancing against them.

  “I love you.” I whisper against his mouth, deepening the kiss. I gasp slightly when his tongue slips inside of my mouth and his sweetness dances across my tongue. Pulling me tighter into his body, his hand trails down my bare back slowly and then back up, tangling into my long strands of hair hanging loosely behind me.

  “But I still need to give you your gift.” I pant out, pulling away from his mouth, fearful that if I don't make a move now, I will get lost in his kisses and in his touch and the little plan I came up with on the way over here will fall to the wayside.

  “What gift?” He questions playfully, pulling me back to his lips.

  “You'll see.” I promise, deepening the kiss again for just a fragment of a second before pulling back and leaving him standing in the middle of the living area. “Well, are you coming or not?” I ask, spinning back around just as I hit the hallway that leads back to the master bedroom.

  He smiles wickedly at me and then begins walking towards me. Not wanting him to catch me, I spin and do a half sprint down the hall and duck inside the bedroom, immediately heading for the closet. I hear him laugh when he pushes his way inside the room, clearly realizing that I am up to something.

  “Take your clothes off.” I command from the closet, not allowing him to see what I am up to. “And then lay on the bed.” I add, smiling excitedly to myself as I pull down one of his ties and a gray button down shirt.

  “I think I like where this is going.” I can hear the laughter in his voice but I also know he means it seriously.

  “Now, close your eyes.” I instruct, slipping out of my bra and panties and into his shirt, sliding a black and gray tie around my neck and tying it off loosely. “No peeking.” I add, leaning slightly out of the closet door to make sure he is doing as I instruct.

  I can't help but smile when my eyes land on his bare body, the sliver of light from the closet allowing me to see enough into the room that I can see the perfect definition of his thighs and the rigid massiveness of his erection as it lays against his stomach, hard and begging to be touched.

  I take a deep inhale and then push the closet door the rest of the way open, allowing the light to filter into the room. I want him to be able to see this. I want him to enjoy every moment of his birthday present. It may not be the standard gift but given that I had no time to actually buy him something, this will just have to do.

  “Keep your eyes closed.” I remind him, grabbing two more ties from the closet before stepping out into the room. Crossing the space, I loop one tie around his wrist the moment I reach the bed. He jumps slightly at the contact and then smiles, realizing immediately what I am up to.

  “Wasn't I supposed to be the one to tie you up?” He asks, peeking one eye open to look at my face as I quickly knot the tie around the bedpost and pull on it to ensure it's tight enough to at least semi hold him in place.

  “Eyes closed.” I scold him. He smiles wickedly and then closes his eyes again, resting his head back on the pillow as I cross to the other side of the bed and repeat the same process as before, knotting the fabric around his wrist and then the bedpost.

  I tug on the tie one last time before crossing the room and powering on the touch screen music panel that sits on the far right wall. Selecting the pop genre, I scan through a few selections before finally settling on “Dance For You” by Beyonce. It's the perfect song. Slow and seductive with the perfect lyrics. Selecting the play button, I smile to myself when the slow beat starts filtering through the speaker system, overwhelming any other noise or sound as I turn it up louder.

  I wait until I am standing at the edge of the bed before speaking again. “Open your eyes.” I command, my voice giving away just how strong my need has suddenly become as I gaze upon his naked body, arms tied above him, his erection standing to the ready. I lick my lips, having to physically force myself not to crawl up his body and take him into my mouth this very second.

  When his blue eyes land on my face, I take a shaky inhale, trying to gather my courage from somewhere down deep. It seems silly really, to be nervous. But that is what Bentley does to me. He makes me feel emotions on such an intense level, I have trouble grasping them.

  Climbing up onto the bed, I push myself into a stand, my legs straddling Bentley. I slowly begin to sway my hips in time with the music, his eyes following my every movement. I trail my hand along my upper thigh, sliding it in between my legs teasingly before slowly gliding it back up my body. I hitch my finger into the button closure of the shirt and seductively unbutton the top two buttons before slipping my hand inside of the fabric, moaning out as I twist my nipple between my index finger and thumb
.

  I watch his eyes glaze over the further I go. I watch his breathing increase and his pull on the ties stretch as he fights against his restraints. Tisking my finger at him, I shake my head slowly and begin working the remaining buttons of the shirt. I push the material aside as the last one comes undone. The fabric falls open, hanging loosely on my shoulders, the tie around my neck laying perfectly between my bare breasts.

  Trailing my hands slowly down my torso, I make sure he has the perfect view of my hand as I slide it between my legs again, running my fingers along my own moisture. He takes a raspy inhale when I slip one finger inside and then pull it out, immediately putting it into my mouth and tasting myself on a heated gasp of pleasure.

  I have never done anything like this before. It's like dancing at the club only every part of me is bare to the man below me and the look of pure desperation on his face has me so turned on, it is taking everything I have not to slide down onto his impossibly hard erection and give us both what we want. But the game, the anticipation, it's what makes it all worth while.

  Dipping low, I skirt my inner thigh across his erection and then push myself back up, pushing the shirt from my shoulders and allowing it to slide down my arms. Tossing it to the side, I grip the tie and slide my hand down it slowly, not stopping once I reach the bottom but continuing down until my hands are on myself again.

  I watch Bentley's expression. Watch how his face tightens with each moment that passes. The way his muscles flex and then release with each move that I make. I know that he is fighting to maintain control. I know how badly he wants to touch me right now. I can feel it in the heat of his gaze and the way his hands clench into fists against the ties holding him in place.

  When the song changes to something a little more intimate,“Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran, I drop down to one knee and reach my hand out, trailing my fingers down his rippled stomach so slowly that I can feel his skin prickle under my touch.