Unexpected Inheritance

25

Miranda smiled "You're the best."

Tuck sighed dramatically. "I know."

Ben grinned. "Don't let her hustle you into another round of 'one more story' before bed."

"She already got me for two," Tuck muttered. "And she's not even trying to sleep."

Meadow turned her head, smiling sweetly. "Uck, wanna race?"

Tuck groaned. "See?"

Miranda kissed the top of Meadow's head. "Goodnight, baby. Be good for Tuck."

Ben clapped Tuck on the shoulder. "Appreciate you, kid."

Tuck just waved them off. "Yeah, yeah. Go do whatever grown-up thing you're sneaking off to do. Not like I'm surprised."

Ben shot him a grin, Miranda rolled her eyes, and without another word, they slipped out the door, disappearing into the night.

In the quiet of Ben's cabin, away from the lingering energy of the party and Meadow's endless excitement, Miranda sank into the couch with a deep sigh. Ben poured them each a glass of wine.

He handed her one and sat beside her, stretching his legs out with a satisfied groan. "Finally," he murmured.

Miranda took a slow sip. "I forgot what quiet feels like."

Ben smirked. "Yeah, it's been a while since we had a night like this."

She leaned her head back against the couch, turning to look at him. "Think we'll ever get used to it?"

He considered that for a moment before shaking his head. "Nah. I think we'll just appreciate it more when it happens."

Miranda chuckled. "You're probably right."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the rare stillness. Ben stretched an arm along the back of the couch, his fingers absentmindedly brushing her shoulder.

Miranda's eyes lingered on him, the way his muscles moved with each deliberate motion, the way his strong, thick thighs filled out his jeans. She felt a familiar heat stir within her, low and insistent.

"You're staring," Ben said without turning, his voice low and teasing.

"Mm-hmm," Miranda replied, taking another sip of her wine, her tone playful. "And what if I am?"

Ben chuckled and turned to face her. There was that look—the one that always ended with him between her legs. It was hungry, possessive, and tender all at once.

"You're trouble, Miranda," he said, his voice dropping an octave as he took a slow step toward her.

She tilted her head, her smile widening. "You like it,"

Ben closed the distance between them, his large hands settling on the back of the couch, caging her in. He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his breath hot against her skin. "Yeah," he murmured, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. "I do."

Miranda's heart raced, her body leaning into his instinctively. She reached up, her fingers trailing along the curve of his jaw. Before rested behind his head just where she liked them.

His lips crashed onto hers, hard and insistent, his tongue slipping into her mouth with a hunger that made her moan. His hands moved from the couch to her hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled her closer. Miranda's body pressed against his, soft meeting hard, her curves molding perfectly to his muscular frame.

They kissed like they had all the time in the world, slow and deep, every movement deliberate and full of intent. Ben's hands slid up her sides, his fingers brushing the sides of her breasts, and Miranda arched into him, a soft whimper escaping her lips.