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Misbehaving, Page 4

Tiffany Reisz


  Beatriz’s smile wavered a moment before returning in full force. The combination of her bright white smile and her dark copper skin nearly blinded him. He wanted to see that smile a billion more times before the day he died. At least a billion.

  “So…what are we doing here?” Ben asked. Beatriz closed her laptop and moved it to the bedside table.

  “Getting reacquainted,” she said. “And having sex if you’re game. I’m sort of on deadlines here.”

  “You’re serious?”

  Beatriz nodded. “As a heart attack. It’s no-strings-attached sex. I won’t even make you buy me flowers after. Think about it while I’m in the bathroom.”

  She left him sitting alone on the end of her bed while she went to the bathroom.

  Ben took a deep breath and released it slowly. Think about it, she’d said. What was there to think about? Sex with the most beautiful woman in the world? Yes, please. Then again…this was work, she’d said. Just work. Nothing more than work. Did he want to be work? Cock for hire? He’d sworn off women for an entire year, hadn’t he? Then again, he’d sworn off them because he knew he needed to get over Beatriz before dating anyone else. How was he supposed to get over Beatriz if Beatriz was under him?

  “To do Bea…or not to do Bea…?” Ben asked himself.

  Beatriz came out of the bathroom and stood in front of him. Her bathrobe was open just enough that he could see the curve of her breasts.

  Who was he kidding?

  “Let’s do this,” Ben said.

  Beatriz grinned.

  “Good. Thank you,” she said. “Let’s talk about the book. It’s called THE MANUAL and it’s being billed as ‘The Joy of Sex for Generation Y.’”

  “What’s Generation Y?”

  “Us.”

  “Got it.”

  “It’s a ‘hip’ sex guide,” she said, putting hip in air quotes. “Most sex position manuals use a lot of technical terminology—it’s all penis, vagina, cunnilingus, fellatio. THE MANUAL uses the words we use—vadge, cock and dick, blow job, going down, et cetera. Chapter four is called ‘Fingerbanging for Fun and Profit.’ It makes sexploration more approachable.”

  “Approachable?”

  “Do you want to try ligotage?”

  Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “That sounds terrifying. Isn’t that something kings did to subjects who pissed them off?”

  “It just means bondage. Rope. Handcuffs. Nothing scary. See how word choice can change the way you view a sex act?”

  “Oh, bondage. That’s better. But I left my handcuffs at home.”

  “Too bad,” she said and gave him a wink. That wink sent his temperature shooting up ten degrees. It wasn’t the only thing shooting up. “But we’ll stick to the basics this week. There are twenty-five positions in the book. We just need to try out about five of them to give a fair review.”

  “Five?” Ben tried to mask his disappointment. As turned on as he was he could have tried out five tonight alone.

  “Maybe more if we have time. I know you’re busy this week. I don’t want to impose on your cock.”

  “Impose on it. Please.”

  “Should we get started?”

  “I will literally, actually, in reality die if we don’t.”

  Beatriz laughed. “I can’t have your death on my hands.”

  She shrugged out of her robe so casually he at first didn’t even realize she was completely naked underneath it. As she bent over to pull the covers on the bed back, Ben nearly fainted at the sight of her shapely bottom and the hint of vaginal lips peeking out between her legs. He was going to be inside her…soon. Not soon enough.

  “Wow,” he said as he stared at her body.

  “Wow?”

  “I mean, you have a tattoo. I didn’t know that,” Ben said.

  She turned her back to him.

  “Oh, that’s my bumblebee. Had him for a couple years,” she said, pointing out the tattoo on the back of her left shoulder. “He’s the mascot for the Miss Bea Haven column.”

  Ben started to say “I know,” but then he remembered she didn’t know he obsessively read her column. He wasn’t sure if she’d find it flattering or creepy that at least once a week he’d read her articles and masturbate to the images they conjured in his mind. Seeing her naked right now in front of him live and in living color put all his fantasies to shame. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was. He’d never forget again.

  Ben started to strip out of his suit. He’d left his suit jacket in his hotel room so he only had to remove his tie, Oxford shirt, belt, shoes, socks, pants and boxer briefs.

  “Dammit, I hate clothes,” he said as he yanked at his tie.

  “I like them,” Beatriz said as she came to stand in front of him. She pushed his hands aside and started unbuttoning his shirt for him. “You look good in grown-up clothes.”

  “I had a meeting this morning with the big bosses. I’m usually a jeans and T-shirt guy.”

  “I remember. I loved your jeans. Remember that pair with the big hole in the right knee?”

  “My lucky jeans.”

  “Those were my favorite. I always wondered how far I could reach if I slipped my arm in that hole.”

  “You dreamed of fisting my pants?”

  “More like spelunking.” She pulled his shirt off and laid it over the back of an armchair. He watched her as she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants. She had the most perfect light brown nipples. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on them, his fingers. He raised a hand and gently cupped her right breast. She looked up at him.

  “Is that not okay?” he asked. He pulled his hand away. She smiled again.

  “Of course it’s okay. We’re about to have sex. But we should probably go over what the book says before we get started.”

  “Right. Sure. The book.” That’s why they were doing this. The book. The book and his penis. Those two reasons. The book, his penis, her vagina—three reasons really. The book, his penis, her vagina, her breasts, her face, her smile, her perfect ass, her laugh, her lips, her hands that were now taking his pants off…He lost count of how many reasons they were doing this. He decided “infinity” would cover them all. “Is kissing…Is that okay? Or is this just—”

  “You’re not a john and I’m not a prostitute. Yes, we can kiss if you want. We’re not going to get very far if you don’t have an erection. So feel free to do whatever sort of foreplay you like.”

  “I think we’re going to be okay on erections.”

  “I can see that,” she said as she pushed his boxer briefs down his legs and eyed him.

  “Is it…Am I…” Ben took a breath.

  “Ben, are you nervous?”

  “No, of course not,” he said as Beatriz walked back to the bed and picked up the book. He ripped his socks off and followed her. “I have sex all the time. I had sex…recently.” By recently he meant a couple months ago. He’d had a single fling after he and Katie broke up. Nothing since, but only because he’d sworn off women for a year. “I’m a sex haver.”

  “I didn’t think you were a virgin. I remember college.”

  He grinned. “I’ve just never had sex that someone’s going to write about and publish. Kind of makes you self-conscious. You know, about things.”

  “Things?”

  “Like my penis. I mean, cock. What word does the book use?”

  “All of them. Your penis/cock/dick/staff of manhood is fantastic. Very good size and super sexy. It’s not even inside me yet, and I give it five bees.”

  “I have a five-bee penis?”

  Bea always rated her sex toys on a one-to-five-bees scale. The more bees the better.

  “For aesthetics. We’ll have to try it out to see how it works.”

  “It works. I promise it works.”

  “Good. Let’s start with chapter two. It goes through some modifications of missionary position. Sit. Read. I’ll get the lube and condoms.”

  “Lube?”

  “Yes, lube. I’m wet but a little extra wetness never hurt. We’re going to have a lot of sex this week. I don’t want either of us getting chafed.”

  “True, true. I lub lube. I mean, love.” He sat down and opened THE MANUAL to the page Bea had marked with a pink Post-it note and read.

  Modified Missionary OR This Ain’t Your Grandma’s Wedding Night.

  “We may need to deduct a bee for the mention of my grandmother,” Ben said.

  “Good point.” Beatriz scribbled a note on a piece of paper that lay by the bed.

  “You actually wrote that down?”

  “Sure,” she said. “This is a book for partners. It has to work for both partners. I thought it was cute, but you thought referring to your grandmother’s sex life was…”

  “Unnerving,” he said.

  Beatriz wrote the word down. He kept reading.

  Missionary position gets its name from the fact that missionaries in foreign lands would instruct the natives that the only God-sanctioned position for sexual intercourse was with the woman on her back and the man facing her on top. No wonder missionaries were often slaughtered by the natives….

  Ben chuckled.

  “Okay, I’m giving it the bee back.”

  “Keep reading,” Beatriz said as she sat on the bed and opened her legs. She flipped a bottle of lube open and applied a thin coating to her inner lips and inside her vagina. Ben stopped reading. He also stopped breathing.

  “I can’t read while you’re doing that. Your vagina has rendered me illiterate.”

  Beatriz rolled her eyes, wiped her hands on a tissue and grabbed the book from him.

  “It says,” she said as she lay on the bed, her head propped up on two pillows, “that one of the more popular versions of modified missionary position is the butterfly. So we should try that one.”

  “A bee doing a butterfly? Is that even legal?”

  “I’m sure it’s legal. But might be dangerous. At least for the butterfly.” Beatriz turned a page in the book. “It says I lay on my back and you stand for this one. You can either hold me up by my ass or we can put pillows under my hips to raise them.”

  “Let’s go for the pillows.”

  “You think I’m too heavy to lift?” she asked with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

  “No, I just want my hands free to play with your boobs.”

  “Good point. This position is supposed to help the man ‘give the clit the attention it deserves.’ That’s me quoting the book, by the way.”

  “I like this book. It’s nice and friendly and tells me to touch your clit. I appreciate that.”

  “So does my clit. Ready?”

  Ben glanced down. He was more than ready.

  “God, yes.”

  “Alright,” Beatriz said. “Let’s do it.”

  “Okay. We’re going to do this.” Ben stared down at Beatriz on the bed. “What am I doing?”

  Bea laughed, a big, luxurious laugh.

  “Why don’t we start with foreplay? That might make you feel more comfortable.”

  “Yes, absolutely. Foreplay.” Ben crawled onto the bed and lay on his side next to Beatriz. “Sorry, I’ve never had sex like this before.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like with a professional who’s taking notes, and we’re preplanning everything. It’s not spontaneous.”

  “Spontaneity in sex is overrated. I’m turned on already and all we’ve done is talk about the sex. Talking before can be the best foreplay. It’s really sexy to plan sex.”

  “True. I like that I know what we’re doing. Usually when you’re with someone new, you have no idea what they like in bed. You start off in one position and you never know if that’s her favorite or least favorite. Takes the pressure off a little to know ahead of time what the plan is.”

  “I’ll let you pick the next position,” Beatriz promised.

  “I love this plan. I’m going to kiss you now. Are you ready?” Ben asked.

  Beatriz closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She appeared to be meditating.

  “I’m ready.” She opened her eyes. “Let’s do this.”

  “Okay. Here we go.” Ben moved in closer to Beatriz and cupped the side of her face. For the past five minutes they’d been joking with each other. He did it to mask his nervousness. Impossible to think this beautiful, confident woman would be nervous. But now that the joking had stopped, his nervousness faded entirely. The only right thing to do at this very moment was kiss her.

  And he did.

  Their lips met and at first Ben held back. They’d only kissed once before, the night they’d met and he’d shown her around campus. That had been a quick kiss, a mere promise of things to come. If he’d known it would be five years before he kissed her again, he never would have stopped that night.

  She opened her mouth against his and he deepened the kiss. She tasted sweet and tart, like she’d been drinking orange juice. He pulled up and smiled down at her.

  “Mimosa?” he asked.

  “Blame Claudia,” she sighed. “Do I need to go brush my teeth?”

  He shook his head. “No. You taste amazing.” Ben traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “Absolutely amazing.”

  Again they kissed, harder this time, heavier. Ben pulled Beatriz under him. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her neck and ears. His erection ground against her hip and she moved against him.

  “Is everything okay to do?” he whispered. “Touching and kissing?”

  “Anything you want,” she said, equally breathless.

  He kissed a path down the center of her chest and took her right nipple in his mouth. Beatriz weaved her fingers through his hair and arched her back.

  “Nipple sucking…” Beatriz said, her voice low and heated, “is the greatest thing ever invented.”

  “You like it?” He paused long enough to smile up at her.

  “Love it. Don’t stop.”

  “Sorry.” He kissed her right nipple again and teased it with his tongue. He held her left breast in his hand, squeezing it gently as his thumb stroked the nipple. Beatriz placed her arms over her head to give him full and unfettered access to the front of her body. He rose up on his hands and knees over her and took her left breast into his mouth as his right hand roamed down her stomach and settled between her thighs. She opened her legs and he easily found her swollen clitoris with his fingertips.

  Beatriz flinched and smiled.

  “Did I do something right?” he asked.

  “Very right. Keep doing it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He kneaded her clitoris with his fingers, watching as Beatriz moved her hips in conjunction with his touch. He loved the way she moved, like a dancer—strong and graceful and fearless.

  “Can I go inside you?” Ben asked as he ran his fingertips along the wet seam of her vaginal lips.

  “That’s why we’re here,” she said with a seductive smile.

  She spread her legs even wider, and Ben slid two fingers into her. Her slick passage offered no resistance as he pushed in as deep as he could.

  “God, you feel as good as I dreamed you would.” He probed inside her with his fingers, reveling in her incredible heat, her -->