Page 31 of Forget About Me

She grabs my hand. “I just wish…”

“What?”

Another sob escapes past her lips. “I wish I’d saved him.”

I hug her to my side again. Tony would be pissed off if he knew about us, not to mention Mr. Minola and that still bothers me. She’s so warm and soft and it feels right to hold her, but maybe this thing with the dog is a sign.

A hand snakes its way around my waist and tunnels under my shirt, making my breath catch.

She hesitates. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s just…” I can’t tell her the effect she has on me, how she’s had a starring role in my fantasies of late, both awake and asleep, so I just say, “That tickles.”

Her fingers play over my belly. “Hmmm. How about this?” My abs go rigid.

“Wow. You almost have a six-pack there.” Her voice is husky. Sexy, dammit. I hold my breath. Close my eyes. Everything hangs in suspension for half a heartbeat. Before I can do or say anything else, she’s straddling me. Her hands cup the sides of my face, her breasts press against my chest and her warm softness squirms over the hardest part of me. Also the neediest.

I attempt to hang onto reason but when her mouth covers mine, I’m lost. In her, with her. Our bodies are a perfect mortise and tenon.

Lucy’s no little girl. She’s a full-on woman. It’s obvious that she wants me. I mean, she said so this morning and now, her pelvis grinds into mine as her hands grip the back of my head with a confidence she’s acquired since our first time. Her moans as my hands roam her body tell me she needs this as much as I do. I’m not sure how we got from her using me to lose her virginity to this being a regular thing, but I can’t seem to say no to her.

Breaking the kiss, I roll her to her back. Pressing light kisses to her temple, her cheek, her ear, I whisper, “God, I want you Lucy. But?—?”

“No buts. I want you, Ben.” She grins at me, a wicked look in her eyes, which makes her even sexier somehow. I caress her soft curls and draw a finger down her jawline.

Her hands reach around to pull me in. “Listen, Ben. I’ve been doing some research.” A blush blooms on her round cheeks. “I have things I want to try out and… I want to do them with you because I trust you. This doesn’t have to be a big thing. We don’t have to be like, dating. We’ll still be friends like always. Just with… some special sauce.”

My heart stutters. She’s telling me what she wants. Who am I to say no?

Kissing my way over every curve, I slowly undress her until she’s writhing underneath my lips. Shucking my own clothes, I grab a condom.

I pause, unsure again.

Her eyes fly open. “What are you waiting for, mister? Move it along!”

Laughing, I kiss her again, and we move together like our bodies were made for each other. When she does some new thing with her hips, I lose the control I’ve been hanging onto by a thread. I pound into her, and she meets me thrust for thrust until we explode together, sensation reverberating through both of our bodies.

Shakespeare’s words invade the memory. Swallowing, I check my script to figure out where we are, and I shift in my seat, hoping no one has any idea what’s been going on inside my head. Or my body, which is hidden by the table, thank god.

I have a monologue coming up. I have it memorized, but I’m so discombobulated it’ll be safest to just read it. When my cue comes, I have to clear my throat a couple of times to get started. “Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping,” I begin, thankful that I’m supposed to be overwhelmed by emotion for this scene.

My acting teacher’s voice echoes in my head.Use it. Whatever’s going on, just put it on the text.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Can’t Stand Losing You” - The Police

Lucy’s Totally Tubular Tuneage, Song #2

LUCY

Thursday afternoon after doing the early shift at work, I’m at rehearsal forTwo Gentlemen of Veronafor the first time. After I make a few simple suggestions, Nick Dorset leans in close and bumps my shoulder with his. “Lucy, you’re brilliant. You’re a natural. Are you sure you’ve never directed a play before?” The director’s charm doesn’t set my every nerve ending on fire the way just being in the room with Ben does—which is why I’m still doing my best to keep things all business withhim—but Nick’s brogue is adorable and he’s obviously very intelligent. I mean, he thinks I’m brilliant.

And I’m pretty sure he’s flirting with me. Meanwhile, Ben is giving off all sorts of conflicting signals. One minute he’s glowering at me, the next he’s solicitously bringing me water, the next he’s snapping with impatience.

I wonder if Nick’s attention is actually making him jealous. Even though his mood swings make my job more difficult, I kind of want to find out.

Making sure Ben can see us, I scoot closer to Nick. “My only experience with Shakespeare is working backstage on a couple shows in high school—in which Ben appeared, by the way,” I add in a stage whisper. Not too soft, though. I want Ben to hear. “He was Brutus inJulius Caesar. His death scene was pretty funny. But I don’t think it was supposed to be. He also played that character inMidsummer Night’s Dreamthat has to dress up as a woman.”

---