Page 46 of Ace My Heart

“Well, I didn’t know what you’d like, so I just got a bit ofeverything. There’s Pide and Baba Ghanouj, and Loubia B’Zeit to start with, then there’s some Shish Kabobs, Tabouleh and Fattoush Salad, and Kibbeh Nayeh, and Baklava for dessert.”

I had only a vague idea what most of those things were, but I was so impressed by all the exotic names and his polished pronunciation that I couldn’t wait to try it all.

“Sounds delicious!” I said, watching as Ben laid out the first course on the table. Joel unfolded himself from the lounge and came to sit. Ben sat himself down to Joel’s right, and I sat to his left. He poured us all a glass of white wine.

“To new … friendships,” he said quietly as he raised his glass, watching me intently. I blushed as I raised mine to his and took a sip. Joel smirked into his glass, raising his eyebrow in my direction.

Ben watched me anxiously as I tried everything and seemed delighted when I proclaimed that I liked it. It was awkward, how hard he was trying to please me.

When he got up to make coffee, Joel stood and stretched, yawning.

“I think I’ll turn in for the night. Mel, are you sure you want to try the … Baklava?” he asked, voice dripping with innuendo.

“I’m sure it will be fantastic,” I told him, not able to meet his eyes.

Joel shrugged, sauntering over to the hallway leading to our bedrooms. I scowled after him.

Ben brought the coffee to the table, along with a couple of slices of Baklava. I turned to him with a forced smile, suddenly nervous to be alone with him. He set the dessert down and sat in the seat Joel had vacated. I took a sip of my coffee.

“I wanted to tell you earlier, but it felt a little weird in front of Joel – you look stunning tonight.”

“Thanks, Ben,” I mumbled, scooping up a spoonful of Baklava so I didn’t have to meet his intense stare.

“Mmm, this is amazing!” I said. Ben grinned as I polished it all off, gathering my empty bowl and taking it to the kitchen, before coming back and standing behind my chair.

“Well, I was sort of hoping that we might be able to work off the extra calories together,” he murmured and his hands found my shoulders. I felt the goosebumps rise on my skin.

“Um … really?” I squeaked, suddenly nervous. How had Joel known? What had he been about to tell me before Ben arrived home?

“I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Mel,” Ben whispered, and his hands moved up to my face, his lips to my hair. “I feel like we will be good together.”

Something about his tone sent a warning alarm deep in the back of my mind, but it fled when he suddenly tilted my head back and kissed me. His lips tasted of the sweet Baklava and the bitter coffee.

Iparted my lips, touching my tongue to his.

Ben broke the kiss, watching me. His eyes were bright, and blue, and so much like Joel’s. Heat pooled low in my belly.Why not?I thought recklessly, standing and turning to him.

Ben took my hand and led me towards the other hallway that led off the kitchen towards the master suite. He pressed me down on the edge of his enormous bed and stood before me. He unbuttoned his shirt folding it neatly and setting it on top of a chest of drawers nearby, turning back, his broad, muscular chest glowing in the dim light.

“Your turn,” he murmured, gesturing to my clothes. After a confused pause, I pulled my top off over my head, dropping it to the ground, followed by my bra.

Ben watched me with an inscrutable expression as he unbuckled his belt, stepped out of his trousers and folded them up too, putting them with the shirt. He slipped off his briefs and stood, arms folded, dick semi-hard, and gazed pointedly at my shorts.

“You’re not naked yet,” he said darkly. My stomach fluttered as I unbuttoned my shorts, lifted my hips, and pulled them and my underpants off in one go, kicking them away. Ben’s eyes darkened, roving over me appreciatively, but not … hungrily. Not desperately.

He walked towards me and climbed onto the bed, kneeling over me, until his dick was bobbing in front of my face. I scooted back,putting a little space between us. He pressed me down with one hand, one of his legs nudging between mine.

“You look good on my bed,” he muttered, eyes skating down my body. He reached a hand between my legs, and with a sharp jab, one finger was probing inside me.

I gasped. I wasn’t as wet as I usually would be before a guy fingered me, and the friction wasn’t exactly comfortable.

“So tight,” he mumbled, taking hold of his cock and stroking himself in time to the thrust of his finger. “I hope I’ll fit.”

“You will,” I reassured him, trying not to wince as he added a second finger. “If you just –”

But he removed his fingers and reached into his bedside drawer, pulling out a condom, tearing the packet and rolling it down his length.

“Are you ready?” he asked. I bit my lip.

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