His little admission had done several things at once. Intrigued me, ignited a fire in my belly, and set me at complete ease. This man was good. Oh, he was damn good. “Bennn . . .” I whimpered.
“Yeah, beautiful?” His signature cocky smirk was firmly in place.
I squeezed my legs together. Ben using endearing nicknames was enough to undo me. I liked it a little too much.
“Nothing,” I murmured. If I spoke just now, it wouldn’t be pretty. I’d either admit to wanting him or mumble something incoherently dumb. Best to keep my trap shut. I was convinced I was about to do or say something stupid, so I sipped my wine instead. Zip it, crazy lady.
He refilled our wineglasses and continued to study me.
After several minutes, I found my courage again. “So how did you get into modeling?”
Ben met my eyes. “I grew up around it, but my mom wouldn’t let me get involved. She didn’t want me modeling, and wouldn’t let me until I was seventeen. Then she didn’t really have a choice, because I sent my photos off to a couple of agencies in New York. They all ended up being interested, so I started working right away.”
“Why didn’t she want you modeling?” That seemed curious to me, considering his mom was a world-renowned supermodel. “She wanted more for me. She knew the downsides to the lifestyle—constant travel and invariably being judged on your appearance. She didn’t always do well with it. I’m sure you’ve heard of her numerous rehab stays.” His gaze begged me to disagree. I had to look away. Of course I’d heard of Dakota Shaw’s fall from grace.
“I’m sorry. Is she . . .”
“She’s fine now. Living in Australia with a guy my age.” He shook his head like it was a thought he wanted to clear rather quickly.
“So you started working when you were seventeen? That’s really young.”
He nodded. “Yes. Fiona actually helped get me my start and I signed with her exclusively a short while later. We’ve been working together for several years now. She’s helped make me what I am today.”
I wanted to disagree, to tell him that he’d have made it on his own, but I guess I had no way of knowing. Already, I’d seen glimpses of just how cutthroat this industry was.
His phone buzzed again, rattling the glass tabletop until Ben reached down to quiet it. I couldn’t help but notice Fiona’s name flash across the screen.
I took a sip of my wine and noticed Ben was still staring down at his phone, lost in thought. “Do you need to get that?”
His gaze snapped up to mine. “No. It’s Fiona. And I have nothing to say to her right now.”
I still didn’t understand the extent of their relationship. Was it just a close business partnership or something more? I brushed off the feelings of insecurity swimming inside me. My bitchy boss would most certainly not like me out with her golden boy right now, but I didn’t care. She didn’t own him.
I took another healthy swig of my wine, hoping that the alcohol would completely banish all thoughts of self-doubt inside me. That wouldn’t happen, though. I was seated across from one of the world’s most sought after male models. My head was an absolute wreck over that fact, not to mention my fluttering heart and damp panties.
“I’m sorry, but this is all new for me. I’m at a loss about what it is you want,” I admitted, folding my hands in my lap.
All traces of seriousness disappeared from his face. His eyes danced on mine, possessive and hungry, and he leaned closer, sexy, boyish charm and playfulness radiating off him. “I think you know exactly what I want.”
Heat crawled up my neck, staining my cheeks. The man certainly didn’t mess around.
He chuckled, a rich warm sound that flooded my senses and sent me reeling, like there was some inside joke that only he and my pulse were privy to. “Let’s get you to bed. I’m sure Fiona will have you up early for work tomorrow.” Cool authority laced his voice, and I knew it’d be pointless to argue or probe further.
He rose and guided me from my chair, his hand resting against my back to assist my movement, leading me off into the night.
Ever the gentleman, Ben walked me to my door and pressed a kiss to my hand.
I leaned against the door, ready to collapse in a heap on the floor. My legs were done. My entire body was done. I was a limp noodle—turned on and humming for the past two hours spent with Ben. He was polite yet flirty. I hated that I didn’t know if this was a date, but he did pay for the wine. Thank God for that, too, because I was pretty sure I didn’t make that amount of euros in a week.
“Goodnight, Miss Clarke,” he said, his voice low and sexy.
“Night.” I breathed.
He leaned in close, giving me a chance to pull away. I let my eyes slip closed and seconds later felt Ben’s full, sensuous mouth cover mine. One hand wound its way into my hair; the other curled around my waist. The warm weight of his hand anchored me, pulling me close until our bodies were pressed together. The hard length of his body against mine was a thing of bliss. His skilled lips made the other men I’d kissed look like boys.
His hand drifted from my waist, found my behind, and clutched me closer, pressing his hips against mine. His teeth caught my lip and grazed lightly against the flesh. My mouth opened in surprise, and Ben used the opportunity to stroke my tongue with his. I let out a soft groan and his kiss deepened, seemingly fueled by the small sound. My hands fumbled behind me for the door handle. Relieving me of the chore, Ben’s hand swept the key past the reader and pushed open the door.