Sweet Like Honey

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6

Benjamin's dark hair fluttered in the window, sunglasses over his eyes as they drove her home.

"How about we get a drink on the way," he asked.

"That's alright."

He smiled, the air flowing though her hair as well he looked over, pulling his glasses down.

"Come on, Jessie. We can have a friendly drink without having sex, don't you think?"

My skin heated. "I don't know."

He smirked, pushing his sunglasses back up. "Well, everything happens for a reason, Jess. You've been working so hard."

"Just one?" I whisper.

His lips quirk up. "My treat."

I shrug. "I can't see the harm."

Of course I see the harm. Him, next to me, smelling good, a drink in my hand.

We do at a bar he swears by. He opens the door for me, walking me into the building. We sit at the  bar. I can't sit still.

I'm antsy.

He smiled at the bartender. "What can I get for you?"

" I'll have a Sangria," He ordered, looking over at me. "It has low alcohol content," he assured me, "But we can always get a cab."

I smile. So considerate.

"Long Island Ice tea," I order, turning toward him. "So did you go to any other high class parties?"

He shrugged. "I've been too busy. Business is booming."

He grabs his drink, and I take mine. I slurp it doesn't. I lived off these in college.

I mean I couldn't afford food, and I lived like a goddamned ninja turtle, but I found these everywhere I went. Along with men who would but them for me.

He looks over at me, examining me carefully. "So, you're single. You're gorgeous. You're intelligent and hardworking."

I smile. "Go on."

He chuckled. "I'm sorry. I know it might be odd, but given our history we're not your average coworkers."

Got that right.

"I'm just curious."

"About?"

"Why. I'm not the only one, who has eyes. I just wonder. Are you not one for commitment."

"I haven't met a man worth committing to," I shot.

"Oh," his lips twists into a smirk. "I see."

"Yes, I am a queen, and no peasant is worth my time."

He chuckled. "All hail," he grinned.

I flaunt jokingly. The alcohol is getting to me. Lowering my inhibitions, making me feel looser.

"And you? Benjamin Percy. Charmer extraordinaire. You're a real Casanova. Why are you single?"

He shakes his head almost bitterly. "Dating me...isn't an easy task. And unfortunately, how good a woman you are, doesn't always matter to me."

"What do you want?"

He just shook his head. "Too much. Especially when most women think I'm this...billionaire playboy. And I'm not with they bargained for."

"Then what are you?"

"I think one day, you'll find out," he winked.

We drink in silence for a bit, small talking about work.

I order a few more drinks. He doesn't order another Sangria, insisting that he take me home sober. I have to keep you safe, he keeps saying.

"Jesse," he whispers, scooting closer to me.

I sigh. He smiles. "Jesse, I know it isn't right. But I can't stop thinking about that night."

I shudder. I knew this was coming. "Oh?"

He smiles. "Feel free to refuse, no hard feelings. Nothing will change."

"What are you asking?" I ask.

I swallow cutting him off. "I want you. Take me back to your hou—"

He looks away.

"My house, and lets have sex again. One more time."

He smiled. "You need to feel pressured. I value you, both as a woman and an employee. If you're not comfortable or you feel like it's going to interfere with work—"

I smile. He's honestly just so...decent. So kind.

"It probably will. But that's risk I'm happy to take, Benji."

He smiles at me, putting his hand on my face. I glance down.

He leaned in, kissing me gently. His stubble rubbed against my skin. I love that feeling.

I touch his stubble lightly.

"Do you like it?" He asks.

I nod.

He kissed me again, taking my hand. He walks me back to the car, and we drive to my house. His hand is on my thigh.

He holds it firmly, but gently. He looks over at me, smiling warmly. He kissed me quickly, looking back at the road.

"I find you so...enthralling."

"Why?"

"I couldn't say. Maybe it's because you're beautiful. Or because you're intelligent. Or maybe it's because of the faces you make at things."

"What face?"

"Like that face," he chuckled. "Distrust. Disdain maybe? Offense. I don't know. But I was always taught to keep my face very still. And be aloof. And calm."

He smiled. "But you're the opposite. That's what I noticed about you first, actually. You were sitting there, eating that...disgusting food. And you made this face. Of just pure disgust. I don't know...I liked that."

I frown. "The food was disgusting."

He chuckled. "It's horrible. It tastes like...sewer water. But French. But I never would've made that face. Even though I wanted to."

"I guess, I wanted to see if I could learn."

"To learn what?"

He looks at me: "To feel like that again. Freely."

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