Silence.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Just f**king dandy,” he answered, his voice tight.

Sheesh. I didn’t know what started his temper tantrum but I was near certain I hadn’t done anything wrong. “Ben, please talk to me.” I tried the door handle and found it unlocked. Pushing the door open slowly, I found him leaning over the sink, his hands gripping the marble countertop, his head dropped forward.

My stomach twisted nervously. My mind jumped to the worst-case scenario. . . . Was he racked with guilt over something else he needed to confess about him and Fiona? Heaven help me because I knew I couldn’t take it. And I was eighteen hours from home.

I wanted to ease his anxieties, to tell him whatever it was we’d get through it, but I couldn’t form the words. Instead I waited, twisting the bracelet on my wrist. Finally he turned.

“I can’t do this.”

My stomach dropped. God, why had I thought it was a good idea to eat scallop mousse? It was threatening to make an appearance.

He stepped closer, towering over me in my bare feet. “I can’t share this room with you, sleep in the same bed, and be expected not to touch you. I love you, Emmy. You’re mine. All of you. Your heart, mind, and body. And I’m yours.”

“W-what are you saying?” I stammered.

“I just can’t take it anymore,” he said, releasing a heavy sigh filled with pent-up frustration.

“You don’t want me?” I asked.

He laughed. The bastard actually laughed, a rich throaty chuckle that tumbled from his perfect mouth. “I’ve had the biggest case of blue balls since we got back together. I’m about to make the f**king Guinness Book of World Records. I’ll have to see a doctor to make sure this won’t cause permanent damage in case you want kids someday.”

My heart swelled. He’d never discussed wanting children, and I suddenly found his little tantrum incredibly cute.

His hand unconsciously went to the bulge in his pants and he winced as he adjusted himself.

My eyes followed his movement. Oh. Heavens, that thing took my breath away. Had he escaped to the bathroom to deal with that on his own? Was that what this was about?

Everything struck me at once. Ben wanted me. He loved me. He needed this—to be intimate with me, for me to accept him and all his baggage. And I was denying him.

Bringing my hand toward him, I lightly rubbed his manhood through the thin material of his dress pants. His eyes flicked to mine and a low growl rumbled through his chest.

“You need me to kiss it and make it better?” I whispered.

His breathing faltered in his chest. “Don’t tease me, baby. I can’t take it.”

A slow smile curled on my mouth. I was ready. And not just because of his pouty tantrumlike behavior. Even at dinner I’d questioned myself, and now alone with him in this room it was obvious. I wanted him, too. All of him. He was right, he was mine and I was his. There was no sense in waiting any longer. I worked to free his belt, taking my time pulling it from the loops while my eyes danced on his.

“Baby, stop, stop.” His hands held mine, preventing me from pulling down his zipper. “Not like this. Not because you feel pressured.”

I shook my head. “That’s not it.”

He pushed a lock of stray hair from my face, cupping my cheek. “Seriously, I’ll take a cold shower and sleep on the couch. I’m not letting you do something you don’t want. You wanted to wait. And we will.”

“I’m done waiting.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “What brought that on?” he asked, still holding my hands in place.

“Because.” I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “I’m a woman. And I’m emotional and sometimes unsure and I change my mind about things. A lot.” I kissed him again, his bottom lip jutting out the tiniest bit in a pout. “And I’ve decided. I’m ready.” Kiss. “For this. For you. Us.” Kiss.

Still cupping my face in his big, warm palms, his thumb lightly stroked my cheek. “Are you sure about this? I told you I can’t take it if you’re just playing around.”

“Don’t pout,” I scolded him, pulling my hands from his hold so I could free his button and tug down his zipper.

He dutifully dropped his hands to his sides. Good boy. He was going to cooperate. I understood my changing moods may be giving him whiplash, but I really was ready, despite his sudden hesitation. Tugging his pants and boxer briefs down over his hips, Ben’s hands went to rest on the top of his head and he looked down at me in wonder, his lips parting slightly.

I dropped to my knees in the ultimate submissive gesture. Pulling the material the rest of the way down his thighs, his c**k sprang free, leaping to greet me. I’d forgotten how big he was. My skin heated at the sight of him and my mouth watered to taste him, to please him. He was swollen and had a thick vein pulsing along his shaft. Wrapping my fist around his long, thick cock, Ben let out a strangled moan. Apparently he wasn’t going to last long tonight. I’d kept him waiting too long. A few simple touches and he was nearly there.

Hands fisted and still resting on top of his head, he pushed his hips forward, invading my mouth deeply. I accommodated his length, sliding my mouth all the way down until my lips were around his base. His knees locked and his entire body clenched in response. I loved pleasing him like this. Even though I was the one on my knees, submitting to him, I felt sexy and powerful.