Hunger Moon Rising Page 20

“'Plain old vanilla Ben' might surprise you with what he's in to,” I said dryly.

  “Maybe.” Tara grinned and sat down again, prying at the lid of the ice cream. “I know one thing he's into though—you.” She dug out a spoonful and popped it in her mouth.

  I looked down at my hands and traced an aimless pattern across the tabletop. “Not anymore,” I said. “I think…well, I think he just wants to forget anything ever happened between us.”

  “Oh.” Tara winced sympathetically. “It got weird, huh?”

  “You have no idea.” I grabbed my spoon and leaned across the table to dig into her ice cream.

  “Hey!” She pulled the new pint out of my reach. “Like you didn't just eat a whole gallon all by yourself.” She leaned forward and waved her spoon at me. “I know you, Dani. You don't eat like that unless you're really depressed. So come on, what gives?”

  “I don't know.” I sighed. “Except…you know how Mitch hurt me, and I was really afraid to have any kind of romantic relationship for a long time because of it?”

  Tara rolled her eyes. “Duh—that's the same analysis I've been giving you for ages. Of course I know. So what happened?”

  “So…” I shrugged. “So some things happened last weekend that helped me sort of get past that, and I realized…or thought I realized, anyway, that, well…Ben is the guy for me.” I looked up at my sister and put down my spoon to run my hands through my hair. “I mean, I really love him, Tara. And I thought that he loved me.”

  “He does love you,” she said with complete certainty, digging out another spoonful of ice cream.

  “Sure,” I scoffed. “That's why he didn't call me for four days in a row.”

  “Did you ever think that maybe he was waiting for you to call him?” she asked. “I mean, Ben is so laid back. Haven't you always been the aggressor in the relationship?'

  “Thank you, Doctor Phil,” I said dryly, but in fact, some of what she said made sense. “He was acting really weird today when I saw him, though,” I pointed out.

  “Weird how?”

  “I don't know.” I sighed. “Well, I was out today and I had Pete with me to help sort through some paperwork—he's one of our copyboys—completely harmless. And besides, he's more your age than mine.”

  “And?” Tara raised an eyebrow.

  “And Ben walked in and saw us working together and acted like a complete jerk.” I frowned. “I mean—I've never seen him act like that before. It was like he had ten times as much testosterone as usual. He scared poor Pete to death and accused me of all kinds of things. That's just…” I shook my head, “Just not like the Ben I know.”

  “Maybe he was jealous. Or maybe there's a different Ben—one you don't know so well,” Tara pointed out.

  “As a matter of fact, there is. You have no idea how different,” I told her, thinking of the weird double life my writing partner had been leading for so long. “But that's not the point. The point is that Ben practically admitted that he was interested in taking our relationship to the next level this weekend, but then he didn't call after we…”

  “Had sex,” Tara supplied.

  “Right.” I nodded. “And now he's acting so strange, and he practically told me he wanted to forget everything that happened between us and just go back to the way things were before.”

  Tara frowned. “Ben said that? Are you sure? Tell me exactly how he put it—what words did he use?”

  “Well…” I frowned. “No, I guess I sort of said that. Actually what he said was that he regretted what he'd, uh, done to me and he'd give anything in the world to take it back.”

  Tara frowned. “What exactly did he do to you?”

  I thought of the rough sex we had shared—the way Ben had thrust into me, like he was reaching for my heart with every stroke—and shivered. “Nothing I care to talk about,” I said primly. “The point is, it was consensual. But he seemed to think he'd, uh, hurt me in some way. I tried to tell him it wasn't true but that's when he said what he did about wishing he could take it all back.”

  Tara dropped her spoon on the tabletop with a clatter. “And you took that to mean that he doesn't want to move forward with the relationship? Dani—I really don't think that's how he meant it. Ben loves you—I know he does. I've known it from the first time you introduced me to him and I watched the way those big brown eyes of his followed you everywhere. Besides, I heard him say it.”

  “Shut up, you did not.” I leaned across the table, searching her face eagerly. “Did you? When? Recently?”

  Tara nodded solemnly and picked up her spoon again. “As recently as Sunday night when he brought you in. He tucked you in bed and kissed your forehead—it was so sweet.” She sighed and put the hand holding her dripping ice cream spoon to her heart, getting a smear of rocky road on her green sweater. “And he said—are you ready for this? He said, 'I love you, Dani. God, I love you so much.'”

  I sat back in my chair, my heart pumping hard. Could it be true? Could all of this be some big misunderstanding? Did Ben really still feel the way about me that I had only recently realized I felt about him? I was getting so confused I felt like a clueless character in a romance novel, not that I read many of those. Junk food for your brain—that's all they are.

  “I'm telling you.” Tara said around another bite of ice cream. “The man is stone-cold crazy in love with you, and you're an idiot if you can't see it.”

  I shook my head. “How can I be sure? I mean, I don't want to make him uncomfortable if you're wrong.”

  Tara made a disgusted face. “You mean you don't want to take the risk of getting hurt again. You know, you're the most fearless woman I know when it comes to your career, Dani. I've seen you go into situations that were ridiculously dangerous—like that time you agreed to interview that bank robber who was holding hostages with no police escort. Or the time you went out on a ledge seven stories up to talk the mayor's aide out of jumping and got all the dirt on the current administration and talked her out of committing suicide. Or what about the time—?”

  “Enough.” I held up a hand to stop her. “What's your point?”

  Tara sighed. “The point is—if you're willing to risk your life for work, why not be willing to risk your life for love? Maybe Ben is feeling rejected too. Maybe he needs you to be the one to make the first move.”

  I looked hard at my spoon, as though I could bend it with my mind. “I don't know if I can. I wouldn't even know where to start.”

  Tara gave a loud, huffy sigh. “Honestly, you two are pathetic—you're so in love with each other it's made both of you just plain stupid. You start by just being near him. Put on something sexy and get in his personal space—see how he reacts. You'll feel it if the chemistry is still there.” She shrugged. “Then just take it from there. Find an excuse to spend time together. I mean, aren't you two working on a big story right now?'

  “Sort of,” I said, thinking of our continued efforts to change McKinsey Cullen from the big, bad wolf back into little red riding hood. I frowned at her. “How did you know that, anyway?”

  Tara grinned. “Because you're always working on a big story. So invite him out for a working dinner. Or better yet, get him over here for a long night of purely professional work and research.” She leaned across the table and nudged me with her elbow. “I promise to make myself scarce.”

  “I don't know,” I said. It seemed wrong to have to manufacture reasons to get Ben over to my home. Before all this craziness had begun, all I'd had to do was mention that I was in the mood for a movie night or that I had too much Kung Pau chicken left over to ever finish by myself and he was there.

  “C'mon,” Tara urged. “I'm sure you can think of an excuse to get him over here if you try hard enough. Then just see what develops.”

  “I'll think about it,” I said. “I did have an idea I wanted to follow up…but I don't know if it would work.”

  “It'll work,” Tara assured me. “Whatever it is, it'll work. It better, anyway.”

 
; “Why do you say that?” I asked, picking up my spoon and going for her ice cream again.

  “Because if it doesn't you're going to weigh five hundred pounds,” she said, pulling the rocky road out of reach. “Just give it a try. Trust me, Dani, I know what I'm talking about. And trust Ben to still love you.” She waved her spoon at me. “And most of all, trust yourself. Okay?”

  “Okay, I'll try,” I said, getting up.

  “Where are you going?” she asked as I scooted around the tiny table and headed for my office.

  “To make a few phone calls,” I said. “I think I have an idea.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ben

  I didn't know what to expect when I got to the Sun Times—maybe that Dani would be giving me the cold shoulder treatment again. Or maybe that she would be brisk and professional and pretend that nothing had ever happened. What I didn't expect was for her to be wearing her shortest black skirt and her highest black heels and looking like a goddess. Oh, don't get me wrong—she still looked professional. The tailored black jacket that went with the skirt and heels was sexy in a severe kind of way but Fifth Avenue to the hilt just the same. But still, she looked amazing.

  “Morning,” I said, trying not to stare as I put down my briefcase on my side of the huge mahogany desk.

  “Morning, partner.” Dani didn't sit on her side. Instead she swayed over and perched herself on the edge of the desk right beside me. I heard the faint whisper of her pantyhose as she crossed her long, beautiful legs and the short skirt rode up to mid-thigh. It was all I could do not to put my hand on her leg. I wanted to look down and pretend to be engrossed in the contents of my briefcase, but I couldn't do it. I let my gaze wander over her body, helpless to look away.

  Dani started to talk about something to do with work—what I didn't know because I couldn't make my brain concentrate on anything she was saying. Then she leaned across me to pick up something off the other side of the desk. When I saw the tops of her full breasts pushing for release beneath the white silk shell top she had on under her black jacket, my mouth went dry.

  That was how my Friday started, and it went on like that all day long. Wherever I went, Dani seemed to be there, giving me a view of her shapely legs or full breasts. The way her long, silky hair swished over her shoulders and her heart-shaped ass swayed as she walked was pure sex. Even the way she ate her sandwich at lunch was sexy. When she licked a crumb off the corner of her mouth with her little pink tongue, I wanted to throw her down on the desk and lick every other part of her luscious body.

  Everything she did, every gesture she made, seemed purely innocent, as though she didn't know what she was doing to me. But she had to feel my eyes on her, didn't she? I couldn't figure out if she was coming on to me deliberately, or if she was showing me what I was missing. Or maybe she just had no idea how hot under the collar she was making me.

  By mid-afternoon I was in serious pain from a hard-on that hadn't gone down all day, and a red haze of frustration hung over my vision. My need for Dani was reaching a fever pitch, and I had no choice but to acknowledge that I wasn't going to be able to work with her anymore—not like we had in the past, anyway. The days of a platonic partnership were behind us, and I hadn't gotten a thing done all day except jerking off in the men's room twice. Not that it helped the situation much.

  I just couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. I mean, I'd seen Dani in sexy clothes many times over the years. In fact, I'd often thought she liked showing her body off to me, as long as me looking at her was as far as it went. But now my hands were itching to touch her, and my mouth ached to kiss her all over, just as I had at the Mabon ceremony. I kept remembering how soft and warm and willing her naked body had felt under mine, how tight her soft little pussy was wrapped around my cock, the way she'd gasped and moaned as I'd thrust deep inside her…

  “Ben?” Dani's voice drew me out of my contemplation. She was standing by the door of our office, looking at me expectantly.

  “Huh?” I realized that I sounded less than articulate and tried to drag my mind out of the gutter. “Yes?” I asked pointedly, as she closed the door, cutting us off from the rest of the news staff.

  Dani was biting her full bottom lip, a look of indecision on her delicate features.

  “Well?” I asked pointedly, as she walked toward me, still not saying anything.

  “Well…” She frowned. “Do…do you think it's hot in here?”

  I had the feeling it wasn't what she had meant to say at all, but before I could reply, she was unbuttoning the severely tailored black jacket and taking it off. My mouth went dry all over again as I saw that the white shell blouse she had on underneath it was practically see-through. And she was wearing some kind of a half-cup bra beneath that—something that supported her full breasts without covering the nipples. I could see their stiff, pink points pressing against the thin fabric of her shirt.

  “Dani,” I said in a strangled voice at the same time she said, “Ben…”

  “You first.” She gestured at me and walked over to the desk to drape her jacket across her chair. She bent over, fiddling with some paperwork and giving me a clear view down the front of her blouse where her breasts hung down like ripe fruit. Her pink nipples looked like suckable red raspberries. I nearly came in my pants.

  “Dani,” I began, trying to tear my eyes away from the erotic sight of her nearly naked breasts and failing. “I can't work like this. I mean…”

  “Oh!” Her exclamation cut me off, and I dragged my eyes away from her breasts to see her holding up her index finger.

  “You all right?” I asked warily.

  “No.” She came around the desk and perched on my side of it again, just as she had that morning. “Paper cut—see?” She held out her shapely index finger to show me the thin red line bisecting the pad.

  “Sorry,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic and failing. My eyes kept wandering off her finger to other parts of her anatomy. God, I was losing it here!

  “Do you think…I mean, would you mind healing it?” Dani looked at me from under her thick lashes, her green eyes full of uncertainty.

  “Healing it?” I asked stupidly.

  “Sure.” She shrugged. “You know—the way you healed my arm? And those cuts on my thighs?” She held the hurt finger closer to my face. “Please?”

  I closed my eyes briefly, willing myself to control the urge to throw her down on the desk and have her right then and there. Was she crazy reminding me of the way I had healed her before? Of the way she had groaned and gasped as I ate her sweet, ripe pussy? Was she trying to tempt me to hurt her again? I could still remember her warm, salty/sweet taste and the way she had grabbed at my hair as I fucked my tongue into her tight, slippery channel, the wild, feminine scent of her cunt as she arched her back to press against my face…

  “Ben?” I looked up and realized that Dani was waiting for me to do or say something. Oh, right, her finger. Helpless to do anything else, I took her hand in mine and sucked the wounded digit into my mouth. At once my senses were flooded with her—her delicious scent, her luscious taste—and I felt the tingling heat flowing between us, just as I had the very first time I had healed her. The sexual energy we generated raised the hairs at the back of my neck like static electricity, crackling along my nerves and making my cock so hard I felt like it was going to explode.

  “Oh.” Dani threw back her head, her long hair brushing the small of her back, her eyes closed tight in apparent bliss. I could see her breasts heaving, the hard nipples pressing against the thin top as she surrendered to the feeling of my mouth on her flesh. I wondered if she was getting wet, if her soft little pussy was getting all hot and swollen with desire. I put my hand on her thigh, reveling in the feel of her silky skin beneath her pantyhose, and she spread her legs, offering me easy access.

  I had my hand halfway up her inner thigh and could actually feel the heat of her pussy radiating against my fingertips when I finally came to my senses. What was I d
oing? Getting ready to touch her, to take her, to hurt her as I had before? I didn't know what was going on with my partner today, but I knew I wasn't willing to go down that road again.

  I forced myself to get out of my chair and get away from her, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I went all the way across the room where I stood against the wall, panting.

  “Ben?” Dani looked at me, her eyes still only half-focused.

  “I'm sorry,” I told her, my voice a hoarse growl. “I don't…don't know why I can't stop reacting to you today. I know we said everything would go back to the way it used to be, but I don't know…”

  “I do,” she interrupted me. She sat up on the desk and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “Molly told me—”

  “Wait a minute.” I held up a hand to stop her. “You were talking to the priestess of the pack? Why?”

  “I had some questions I thought she could answer,” Dani said. “And I…I told her that you and I had agreed to go back to the way things were before. Before we…before Mabon, I mean.”

  “And?” I raised an eyebrow at her and dared to walk a little closer.

  Dani looked down for a moment, her eyes veiled by the thick fringe of her lashes. “And she said that it might be difficult. Because when a were, uh, claims a woman, it creates a kind of bond—a tie that's not easily broken or forgotten about.”

  I frowned at her, trying to understand what she was saying. Was she telling me that I had inadvertently tied her to me that night on the rock under the Hunger Moon? Was she saying that the consequences of my actions were going to follow both of us around forever?

  “God, Dani,” I said hoarsely. “I'm so sorry.”

  “Well, I'm not.” She looked up, her green eyes flashing.

  I looked at her, uncertain of my next move. “Dani,” I began but she interrupted me.

  “Ben, I think I know a way to cure McKinsey Cullen. A way to turn her from a wolf back into a girl.”

  “What?” I shook my head at her sudden change of subject. Sometimes Dani was just too hard to follow. “Have you been studying Doctor Locke's notes some more?” I asked, dropping back into my chair and being careful not to touch her.