On an Edge of Glass

at the sky.  That’s the moment that I caught with my camera. 
    Ben ’s going on.  He’s telling me that he likes another shot.  He’s describing qualities of light, but I’m somewhere in my head.  Lost.  I notice how his long musician fingers are touching the keys of my laptop and I’m remembering the way that they felt spread over the bare skin of my lower back.  We are too close and my skin is beginning to burn underneath my clothes.  My hormones are turning me into a fire hazard.
    “What?”  Ben’s lilting voice breaks through my reverie. 
    God.  He’s probably concerned about my heavy breathing and the unattractive red splotches that I’m positive are breaking out all over my face.
    I let my hair fall forward like a shield.  “Nothing.  You were saying…”
    But Ben has stopped talking.  When I chance a look, he’s doing that silent stare thing.  It’s alarming how much it affects me.  How it sucks away all of the air in the room.  How it sends tingles through my entire being and makes my body hum with anticipation. 
    “Ellie,” he says softly.  He shifts the computer so that it’s no longer a barrier between us.  The tips of his fingers gently brush the side of my face.  I close my eyes and part my mouth to breathe. 
    “Ellie,” he repeats my name.  Then, he leans toward me and his lips flutter over my eyelids, sending a wild hum through my limbs. 
    I open my eyes and he’s looking at me with so much heat and desire that I have to remind myself to breathe properly.  I pull his shoulders down until we’re falling back onto the mattress and Ben is over me.  Supported by his forearms, he hovers, watching me intently with those gold-flecked brown eyes.  His hands slip lower.  I lift my hips to meet his and the room tilts. 
    T here is nothing imaginary or gentle about what moves between us.  It’s like a tsunami.  Our mouths crush, crash, against one another.  Our hands pull—skin, shirt collars, hips.  I am frantic to have all of him pressing down against me.  I yank the shirt he’s wearing over his head.  I slide my fingers over his rippled bare chest and edge my way along the waist of his jeans.  Ben moans into my mouth.  His knee comes up between my legs and I do some moaning of my own. 
    With h is hands, he traces tiny circular patterns on my body, bringing every one of my pores to life.  He is the musician and I am the instrument.  I glide beneath him, barely breathing, barely thinking. 
    His lips move over my neck, dropping down to my collarbone.  His eyelashes flit against my skin soft and feathery.  I fall.   
    “What am I going to do with you?” he whispers, holding my face and staring at me with clear eyes that swim through my veins.

 
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER NINE
    No Strings My Ass
     
     
    “You are so adorable.”
                  I stop pacing and spin.  Ben—lopsided smile plastered on his face—is leaning back against my headboard with his naked arms crossed behind his head.  Silvery morning sunlight pours in through the window behind him making a hazy white outline around his body.  He sits up and all the tightly drawn muscles in his chest move with him.   The soft green sheets tumble downward settling around his waist. 
                  “And you’re distracting me,” I say, flipping a flashcard at him. 
                  He swats it away and ruffles his brow.  Out comes the bottom lip.  He’s all mock flustered and hurt, which is too charming to dwell on when I’m trying to study. 
    “Are you kidding me? ”  He feigns offense.  “I’ve quizzed you for the past four nights in a row.  When you ace the exam, you can thank me.”
                  Now I’m smiling.  “And just how would you like me to thank you?”
                  Ben’s forehead drops and a lock of dark hair falls across his eyes.  God .  He scoots closer and his fingers crawl up my arm all the way to my neck.  Golden brown eyes trail behind.  My stomach churns with anticipation and my breathing changes. 
    “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
                  “Huh, like indentured servitude?”  My voice is ragged, like I’ve just come back from a jog.
                  He laughs.  Curling his strong arms around my waist, he pulls me down next to him.  Now, I’m on my back, looking up at his gorgeous face.  My heart thumps with