A Delicious Mistake Page 9
She didn’t know—and she didn’t get much more information from anyone she spoke to.
The other rangers all seemed to like Benjamin, but they also wouldn’t say much to her. They spoke of the police coming, of how no one had seen Benjamin and Luke return to the compound the way that Benjamin said they did. They didn’t seem to want to look her in the eye and after talking to her they also seemed to want to avoid her completely. She found it frustrating and painful. This wasn’t a homecoming. It was becoming an ordeal.
She hadn’t thrown herself into this without a clue. She knew there were very few leads. And, understandably, a lot of uproar surrounded the case, given the brutality of the murder and the fact that the victim had been a British expat. Sarah didn’t care much for the publicity, but if it helped the furtherance of justice for her brother, then she was all for it.
Her searching for evidence of some kind helped to ensure that her days were full and busy, but the nights were an entirely different matter. The vast grass plains of the Serengeti were breathtaking beneath the yellow-white orb of the full moon, but once darkness really fell, you could feel like you were the only person in the world. She missed her family, and thoughts of her beloved Luke were never far. She went from regretting her encounter with Benjamin—she must have driven him off—to wishing he would come back so she could yell at him again.
What was happening to her? Why did she feel so torn, like one side of her was blatting the other? Her heart kept telling her to give Benjamin the benefit of the doubt—to find him and apologize. Maybe they should work together to find Luke’s killer? But her head begged her to realize that he could so easily be a fraud. He might say he lived within his means, but words such as that could be easy. She lacked hard facts and Benjamin hadn’t been as open as he could have been. She needed proof, not feelings. Still, it wasn’t going to get her anywhere to go charging at him like an enraged bull. Once he came back, she wouldn’t blunder as she had done before. His absence gave her the chance to shepherd her thoughts toward one single element of purpose. She would confront him again, and this time she would be calm and logical and would make a better case for why he needed to give her a full accounting of that day.
Now, if only she could get to sleep without thinking of him.
She thought of his broad shoulders, of his lean body, and his strong hands on her.
Memories of her meeting him wove into illicit images of their entwined bodies being lost in fevered passion. She tried to rein in her wayward urges, but when she started to drift into sleep her body slipped from her control and began to tingle again as it had when he’d touched her. This was not helping her stick to her plan. Here was one more thing that Sarah just couldn’t wrap her mind around—why did his absence leave a feeling of loss? Where did this insurmountable ache come from?
But the dreams were the worst.
That part of her Sarah had no control over. There was nothing she could do about how she woke with her throat tight and her breath quick, and the treacherous moistening dampening her thighs. She tried pleasuring herself, but she thought of Benjamin’s hands on her. She couldn’t ease the aching tightness that came to her nipples whenever she imagined Benjamin’s lips on them.
She blamed her lack of sexual experience for this reckless fantasy that seemed intent on coloring each one of her nights. She had once prided herself on her steadfast principles. She wasn’t one to give in to base desires. In England, she had found it easy to keep so-called admirers at bay. She had never felt anything strong for any one man and empty promises of affections from one man or another had never enticed her into anything more than a casual flirtation.
But she had never met a man like Benjamin Ndlovo. This wasn’t the easy friendship she thought they might have since she had known him years ago. No. With just a look, he seemed to be able to strum the most hidden chords of female needs deep within her core. Sarah wondered how it was possible for any woman to resist a man like him if he decided to pursue her. Any woman would long to be tempted by the fire banked in his eyes. Any woman would want to see if she could break his outward control. The sheer excitement brought on by that possibility made her arch her back helplessly, moaning loudly as she imagined Benjamin clutching her to him and entering her as he kept her bound in his strong arms.
Lying in her bed, Sarah turned her head, burying her burning cheek against the pillow. She couldn’t stop thinking about his dark, smooth skin. About his muscles rippling as he entered over and over and over again. About his passionate lips offering satisfaction to her. In her dreams, in her fantasies, Sarah gave in to him again and again and again. She was no longer pure. She felt like not even an ounce of her innocence remained. She wanted no part of the comfortable, safe, and complacent males she had come across in England. A man like Benjamin was what she wanted—a man born to be a fearless hunter, a great warrior, and an alpha male.
She was aware of the change within her—and she blamed Africa. Plain, old, vanilla Sarah Hutton slipped away every night. She was vanishing. Sarah knew she wasn’t the same daughter, sister, and friend that she had been with her simple, predictable, comfortable life in Europe. In her wicked, decadent dreams, Sarah found herself free to explore another part of herself—a sexual part that was sensual beyond measure, filled with immense amounts of erotic charge. The thought of giving her body, her will, and perhaps even her heart to Benjamin both electrified and enthralled—not to mention terrified her as well. Sarah ached desperately for his intimate touch between her throbbing thighs. The thought of such a forbidden lust was intoxicating. It was so easy to get hopelessly addicted to those erotic secrets that never see the light of day.
Before dawn, Sarah always found a way to dampen every breathless dream by getting up and climbing into a frigid shower. She washed away the flames before they could consume her with such inappropriate, impermissible fantasies. As she dried herself, she was left with the unpleasant sensation of being unfulfilled, and yet there was nothing she could do about that. It wasn’t anything to get worked up about, she would tell herself. It was a phase. Something that would soon be over. It was the full moon and Africa weaving its illusion of wild romance. It was grief coming out in unexpected ways since she would not allow herself to cry and mourn. It was a mere aberration soon to depart and never to return. It had to be one of those things. She couldn’t cope with the possibility of it being anything else.
As stimulating, tantalizing, and tempting as the thought was, she forbid herself from imagining that maybe, just maybe, wherever he was, Benjamin might feel an ache that resonated with hers.
And then Benjamin was back.
He came back with the moon still high and bright, and Sarah couldn’t stand to ignore those urges for one second more.
Chapter Eight: What the Wind Blows In
Benjamin felt almost sure that his burning desire for Sarah had somehow conjured her into his hut. She came to him coated in her beauty. She came to him with her hunger. She came to him with her prize. Unexpected, unbidden, and oh so welcome. Her flawless alabaster skin, her soft lips, her sweet tongue. She came to him and at first he thought they would fight again. But that was not why she had come to him. He had been thinking of her, and although she was within the refuge of the house, and him within the modest walls of his hut, he had felt the pull back to her.
Even as he’d made his way back to the Lodge, he had known he could not stay away from her any longer. But he had reached the Hutton Game Lodge too late in the night to visit with her right away. But she had come to him.
He had been giving the crackling fire one last stroke of wood before finally going to sleep when Sarah entered. She burst in, sudden and unannounced, like a red-haired storm breaking over him. She stood there, eyes wide and bright, lips parted, chest rising and falling as if she had perhaps run to him. She was the most astounding vision he had ever witnessed. She was like something from his hottest, wildest fantasy, and though her lips moved—perhaps to lash out at him once again—he could
hardly register the words, for he was caught up in how she seemed a thing made of fire, as if she had sprung up from the flames he had coaxed to life.
He muttered something about patrols and poaching—he didn’t really know. He didn’t want to lie to her. He merely said the first thing that sprung to his mind because she could have been telling him to jump on a big pink elephant right now and he would have thought that a reasonable thing to do and done it for her.
All he could really process was her scent, which permeated the air like the smell of electricity before a thunderstorm. Like an aphrodisiac it drove him wild and sank into the deepest recesses of his soul. He stood. The fire that blazed in her emerald green eyes awoke the spark inside him he had thought buried so deep he could forever ignore it. He could resist her no longer. He had been a fool to think he ever could. Something of that must have shown in his stare. He saw her hesitate, he saw her realize what he knew. She didn’t recoil from him. Idly, he became aware of the distant strains of the yearning song of a night bird. It was as if the Serengeti was singing for them, encouraging them to act upon their desires.
In two long strides, he was in front of her, close enough to touch her. To feel her. Even underneath the shorts and tank top she wore, he could see the outline of her delicate curves. The erotic fantasies of her that had come to visit him underneath the velvety, endless star-filled sky came to mind. He had claimed her a thousand times in his dreams. This was no dream. Sarah was very real, and she was here within his reach. He knew at once they needed each other. This was the answer he had been seeking—they needed to heal each other. This time they would speak only with touch and passion.
Within moments, he had her in his arms. He reached out and undid the bows that held together the straps of her tank top. He watched the garment slide like a caress down her body, leaving her topless, her glorious breasts exposed. A few moments later, her shorts, socks, and shoes followed, until she stood breathtakingly naked in front of him. Her curves were perfect. Her small but firm breasts fit perfectly within his palms. He slipped a hand down into her fragrant sex, touched the red curls between her legs, and the urgency to fill her, to plunge into her almost undid his control. He wanted her—needed her. He was no stranger to beauty, but Sarah’s beauty took his breath away. Her emerald green eyes, her white skin, her exquisite silhouette chained him as if she had locked him to her side.
He had fought his inappropriate fantasies for her. It had been such a sweet taboo. He should not think of her as anything but Luke’s sister. But now he knew she was meant to be his woman.
He swept her up and put her onto his bed. He touched her, kissed her, stroked her skin. To his astonishment and delight, she unfolded gently underneath him like a night flower blossoming for the first time. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back until she left his mouth dry with desire. He had to taste more of her. The pink buds jutting out of her youthful breasts tempted him, and he did not resist. He suckled her nipples, tugged on them, nibbled those hard nubs until Sarah moaned and writhed under the hard weight of his body. The pink lips between her thighs called to him as well. He could not ignore the damp need between her legs. In awe, he ran his hands all over her petite, impossibly perfect body—that very same body he had coveted for so many sleepless hours. Carefully, he touched her wet sex. Sarah spread her legs and so he pushed a finger into her, marveling at how dark his skin looked against her warm, pale flesh.
He wanted their lovemaking to be wildly erotic, wonderfully strange, and uninhibitedly intimate—he wanted everything for her. But he had not expected Sarah to be a virgin. When he pushed into her, sheathed himself in her sweet tightness, he felt the resistance of a woman who had never known a man. He held himself still. The discovery that no man had ever taken her filled him with a wave of affection and, yes, a hint of all-male pride that he would be the first. He wanted her to know joy, but he had to warn her as well that there would be pain at first. She stared up at him, panting, her skin sheened with sweat. He saw in her eyes and well as heard from her that she wanted him to be the one—the only one. He thrust into her and she cried out.
As he broke through her barriers, he had caught his breath, wonder filling him all the way to his very core.
Mine.
His. For tonight at least, Sarah was his in the most complete way possible. He ground into her welcoming heat. With her virgin barrier gone, he could thrust deeper and deeper into her, bringing her pleasure now. He set a demanding pace with his hips, gasping out his own breaths as he became one with her. Mine, he thought again, the word going in circles in his mind over and over and over again. It filled him with a mounting sense of wonder.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
With each thrust, his chest grazed against her breasts. His skin rubbed over her nipples. She moaned, pressing her head back into the pillow, her red hair spread around her head like a fiery halo, her long neck exposed to him.
He forced himself to hold onto his orgasm. He wanted her to know moments of pure delight, moments that came close to nothing he had ever known or experienced with any other woman. With Sarah, his passion wasn’t just arousal—it was something more, something sublime that simply could not be put into words. She danced wildly underneath him. He caught her legs and turned so she sat astride him and could ride him now at her own pace. Eyes huge in her oval face, she stared down and him and gave an experimental wiggle with her hips. He moaned and closed his eyes and let her take control of him. Sitting on him, she danced the soft, velvety night away.
At last he could control himself no longer. Grabbing her hips, he turned her, put her back underneath him. He caged her body with his hands and arms and rose up over her so that they touched only at the hips where their sexes merged into one. He pulled out of her hot, dripping wetness, held himself out while she whimpered underneath him, begging without words for him. He thrust deep and hard into her. Her hips bucked underneath him as if begging for him to go deeper still. Again, he pulled out and held himself back from her. She wiggled and moaned under him again. At last he gave her want she wanted—what he wanted. He plunged into her, taking her hard and fast. She cried out and arched and he plunged into her over and over, spending himself into her—spilling his seed.
He collapsed onto her and when he tried to move off, she held him in place with her arms and legs. They lay entwined, passion spent, and Benjamin knew the world for him would never be the same. His little Sarah would never be the same.
But she lay with him until the dawn caught them.
* * *
When she opened her eyes to strange surroundings, a shard of panic pierced Sarah. Frantic, she tried to get her brain to kick into motion and join her body in the land of the awake and aware. It took several moments to finally adjust her eyes to the dim light and realize she lay inside a hut. It took her even longer to remember it was Benjamin’s hut.
And the heavy weight next to her was Benjamin.
She sat bolt upright.
The fire, low and restful now, slumbered in sharp contrast to the mounting alarm that hit Sarah. Recollection dawned on her in the same way the sun was dawning and streaking into the room through the window. She had slept with Benjamin. She had caved. She had given in to her unspeakable urges. The memories became vivid and the events of the past several hours came crashing down on her—as if the dull, delicious pain throbbing wonderfully within her sex wasn’t a clear enough memento. A hot flush climbed from the base of her throat all the way up to her cheeks.
She turned to stare at the man who lay beside her. She thought he had been asleep, but Benjamin was far from sleeping. He lay still, staring up at her with very alert, very deep, dark eyes.
Oh, Christ, Sarah thought in a panic. Shit.
Her first instinct was to jump up and leave. The urge to run as far away and as fast as possible almost swamped her. She had never, ever envisaged herself as being capable of the wanton acts she had performed during the night. She had ridden h
im as if he were a stallion to mount. She had allowed him to touch her, to push his fingers inside of her. He had taken her virginity and she had ached for him to do even more. She had never thought herself capable of bringing her recent wild dreams and fantasies into reality—but she’d been willing to let him do anything to her.
She would have liked to fool herself into believing that she had at least made a couple of attempts to stop him, but she hadn’t. This hadn’t been rape. He hadn’t held her down and forced her—but even that idea brought shameful warmth to her sex. If he had tied her up and taken her, she would have loved it all the same. But she hadn’t offered so much as one protest, half-hearted or otherwise. At no point had she even made any real struggle. She hadn’t said no to Benjamin—in fact she seemed to remember wanting more of him. In fact, it felt as if she had been looking for the experience. On some deep level she had come to Benjamin’s hut for that sole purpose. Her urge to confront him was in truth an entirely different kind of urge. On some level she had known exactly what would happen if she pushed open the door to his hut—she had even been hoping for him to take her and make love to her. A part of her, deep down, knew the truth.
Sarah barely suppressed a groan. She couldn’t remember a time when she had felt more ashamed. It felt as if she was incapable of getting any redder.
Yet, one more glance at the warmth shining in Benjamin’s dark eyes was enough to have her fall prey to that same, potent magic that had made it so impossible to say no to him before. She wasn’t going to say no this time, either.
As he ran a hand up her spine and gently guided her back down to the sheets and his warm, powerful body, Sarah felt herself already beginning to relax. Her body had a will of its own. The smoldering heat she could see in his deep brown eyes weakened her every defense. When he looked at her like that, she knew she would surrender anything and everything to him, including and especially herself.