Bad Swipe Bad Swipe (Billionaire's Club #12) - Elise Faber Page 0,53

to speak, afraid that if he gave voice to any of the thoughts in his head, she would retreat. So he held his tongue, stared out at the lights, and just stroked a hand up and down her spine.

The words, when they eventually came, surprised him.

Because he didn’t talk about it.

Hadn’t ever talked about it.

Not with his mother. Not with Claire or Baine, who’d been with him when he’d received the phone call.

He’d buried it down. Deep down. Perhaps as deeply as this pain of Stef’s was buried.

“My father isn’t just gone,” he said. “He was murdered.”

Stef’s breathing had slowed, but when he spoke, it picked up again.

“He was just driving home from work,” Ben said. “Stopped at a signal, and someone shot him through the window, yanked him out of his car with a bullet wound to the chest, and drove off.” Ben’s gaze turned to the Bay Bridge, to the steady stream of red and white lights from cars that made their way back and forth across the bottom and top decks—away from the city on the bottom, to it on the top. “They left him to die in the middle of the street and then took his car.”

“Oh, Ben,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“The police found it three blocks away, parked half up on the curb, the door wide open. They took it and just left it there, discarded it like they had no use for it, for him—” His voice cracked.

She shifted in his arms, her hand lifting to rest on his jaw. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

He covered the back of her palm with his own. “I miss him. Every day, I miss him.”

Another tear slid down her cheek. “I know, baby.”

He lifted his hand to wipe it away, and she shifted, wrapped her arms around his waist, nuzzling into his throat.

“I miss him, too,” she said, so softly that he could hardly discern the words. “I shouldn’t miss him so much. I’m not worthy of that grief, not when part of me hated him so much when he was alive.”

Ben’s heart ached at the agony of her words, but part of him also hoped.

Hoped so fucking much that she would share her hurt with him, allow him to take some of it away.

Instead, she held on tight to him, and he stayed quiet.

For minutes.

For hours.

Until the moon began to set, and Stef’s breathing went slow and steady, and he knew she’d fallen asleep in his arms.

Not tonight then.

Ben grasped on to his patience, held it firm, and carried her downstairs to his car, drove her back to his place.

Soon. He had to hope that soon she would give him the rest.

Because he’d take it, would wrap it up carefully inside him, remove the hurt, the agony, and he would give her back happy.

He would do anything to give her back happy.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Stef

Stef woke up and instantly knew where she was.

In Ben’s arms.

In Ben’s bed.

And even though exhaustion still tugged at her, she smiled. Because she really liked waking up with him.

As though sensing that she was awake, his eyes opened and his face gentled. “Morning, baby.”

“Morning,” she whispered, wanting to brush her fingers over his jaw.

As though sensing that, he tipped his head down, close enough so that his forehead rested against hers, so that she could easily touch him.

“You okay?” His eyes were on hers.

She nodded.

Then noticed the time on the clock on his nightstand. “Shit! I’m late.” She started to toss the blankets back, to slide out of bed, but Ben merely clamped a hand around her arm and tugged her back against him, rolling to pin her between him and the mattress.

Hard lines. Hard muscles. Hard . . . cock.

She shivered.

He grinned.

And suddenly, work became the last thing on her mind.

“I called Heidi last night,” he murmured. “Told her you wouldn’t be in today.” Her mouth dropped open. “Same as I called Claire and told her to forget my phone number for the day.”

Stef’s eyes widened.

“And she’s going to keep Sweetheart. And doggy day care is going to keep Fred for one more night.”

“I—”

His hips dropped down onto hers. “Is that okay?”

Her lips parted, her breathing shaky as pleasure began coiling itself like a snake in her abdomen. Always like this. Always needing him so fiercely.

“Baby?”

Heidi was probably going to interrogate her to no end, and she’d be hopelessly behind on Monday, but, “Yes, it’s okay.” It was wonderful actually. She hadn’t taken a day off in ages, not one during