Present day
Rey's stomach twisted and flip-flopped as the anxiety coursed through her system. The group was on their way back to Pasadena in their small caravan of vehicles and every mile that brought them closer amplified her panic.
She tried to fix her attention on the scenery that whipped past the window: scrubby brush and trees, the lazy arms of the wind turbines churning the hot California air, the beautiful, craggy mountains to the far north that were just slightly dusted with snow, but nothing could distract her from the thoughts of him.
The brush was his prickly fingers, sliding up her arms and leaving bloody trails in their wake. The towering wind turbines reminded her of his ostentatious office building, looming in the dark with its single, blinking red eye. The mountains made her think of him, immobile and mighty, dwarfing her, shadowing her, capturing her in his gloom. Nothing could make her not think of him.
The traffic crawled to a standstill once they were outside Pasadena and Rey sighed in relief. This would further delay the inevitable.
"How you doing, kiddo?" Leia asked.
Rey shrugged. She was afraid to open her mouth because she was certain she'd vomit.
"You got this, you hear me?" Leia said, sternly. "You've faced him before. You know what to expect."
"No," Rey manage to murmur. "I thought I did. And look what happened. He's going to get to me."
"Well, of course he will, with that attitude," Leia scoffed. "When Luke walked through your memories, you felt it, right? You could sense how Ben worked. You know how to detect it now. You can fight him if he pulls any more of his cheap tricks."
Rey closed her eyes, summoning up the memory. Leia was right. There was something different about the way Ben got into her mind, the secret paths and hidden doors he unlocked. There was a special feeling about how he manipulated them. Surely, this next time around, she'd be able to sense it and stop it. Maybe.
Leia took the silence for an acknowledgment of sorts. "So, have you heard from him yet?"
Rey glanced down at the burner phone in her hands. "No, not yet. I assume he'll want to meet me at his office, again."
Leia's mouth tightened into a thin line. She didn't like the idea any better than Rey did, going back to that building. It's like enticing the mouse back to the trap, even after it snapped once before. But what choice did Rey have? She had to get to the cheese.
The sudden ringing of the phone startled Rey so much, she dropped it on the floor and Chuy almost side-swiped another car in reaction to her panic. He warbled in annoyance.
"It's him," Rey whispered, not touching the phone as if it would bite.
"Answer it!" Leia urged.
"But what if he tracks me?"
"Of course, he's going to try, but we're gridlocked in traffic. What's he going to do? Hover over us in a helicopter and rappel down?" The phone continued to ring, angry. "Pick it up, dammit!"
Rey grabbed the phone and slid her finger across the screen. "H-hello?" She cringed at how shaky her voice sounded.
"Ms. Jacks." His voice was pure silk and it filled her ear and her thoughts. She instantly shivered though there was a warmth that coiled in the pit of her stomach. She hated how he had this effect on her. "I've read the documentation you provided. I'm ready to discuss this with you."
"I-I'm pleased. Pleased to hear that," she responded. Her eyes were locked on Leia's, and she was unharnessed with her emotions. Leia was getting absolutely smacked with a flurry of intense feelings that Rey was trying to desperately rein in.
"Good. I'd like to meet you tonight. I want to discuss this proposal."
"I don't want to go to your office," Rey blurted before he could even finish.
He exhaled a breathy chuckle. "Of course. We'll need to be somewhere public. I've made a reservation for us at 71Above. 7pm."
"I'll see you there."
Click. Rey clutched the phone in both hands and sat in silence.
"Well," Leia finally said. "It looks like you have a date."
###
Rey glared at the mirror and an unfamiliar face glared back. She watched Leia's hands behind her, working to style her hair. Leia insisted on unraveling Rey's buns and ironing her hair out so that Rey would appear, according to Leia, more "feminine" and "womanly." Rey insisted that by trying to appeal to Ben's sexuality was insulting to herself and pandering to him at best, and Leia just smiled and shrugged.
Rey wore a black midi dress that came to her knees. The black cap sleeves were modest and covered her shoulders but the neckline plunged just enough to hint at her cleavage. A simple but elegant silver chain carried a jagged and polished pendant that looked like a piece of a nebula was captured within it. The matching black heels were strapped too snug on her stockinged feet, but at least she knew she wouldn't ankle roll out of them.
Leia also insisted on doing Rey's makeup. Rey preferred little to no makeup, only dolling up when she really needed to. Apparently, tonight was a reason to do so, and Leia brought out her fancy cosmetics and went to town on Rey's face, transforming her into a mature vixen. The smoky-eyed, rouge-cheeked, dark-lipped Rey scowled but she secretly admitted that she did look pretty hot.
"Careful, don't move," Leia warned as she pulled away the scorching hot hair iron. "Almost done."
Luke peeked his head in the bathroom. "Hey, you really clean up. I can hardly recognize you, ragamuffin."
"Thanks," Rey said, sarcastically. "I can only imagine what a little makeup would do for you. And a razor."
Luke scratched at his beard. "I thought women like this scruffy look. Doesn't it make me look intelligent? Distinguished?"
"No!" came the immediate answer from both his sister and Rey.
Luke pretended to ignore them and glanced at his watch. "Hurry it up. I need to debrief Rey before we go."
"We?" Rey echoed.
"Of course," Leia said, spritzing Rey's hair with a setting spray. "You think we're going to let you just go somewhere and meet him alone?"
"It's somewhere public," Rey argued, suddenly feeling embarrassed like she was a child getting chaperoned on a date. It's not a date! she silently reminded herself.
"Doesn't matter," Leia said. "Besides, he'll have his people there, too." She stepped back and made an assessment. She spritzed a bit more of spray and admired her work. "Good. You're done. Go talk to Luke and Chuy will warm up your car." She shook out the black wrap that was hanging off of the back of the bathroom door and handed it to Rey.
Rey accepted the soft cloth, folded it over her arm, and carefully tottered away on the stilettos that Leia also insisted that she wear. She wasn't using to shoes this tall, but she at least she'd be closer to Ben's height.
She found Luke in the living room. He was watching the news on mute, but neither of them needed the audio to understand what atrocities were going on. The worried newscaster's face was positioned parallel to another square on screen which displayed a video of chaos. It was somewhere in the Middle East, some distant country Rey still wouldn't be able to pinpoint exactly on the map, but she didn't need to know where it was to know something was wrong. There were fires and explosions, sobbing people, a lone child. Blood, mud, a shaky video capture of a drone.
She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. "Jesus," she murmured as she felt a quiet flood of emotions lapping at the back of her mind. Suffering, so much suffering. She could sense the loss of people, some of her people, their souls crying out in anguish as they died. When she opened her eyes, they were brimming with tears.
"That," Luke said, quietly. "That is what we're fighting for. What you fight for."
Rey fluttered her eyes as she tried to force the tears back inside. She didn't want to ruin Leia's meticulous makeup job. "Gee, not like the pressure is on or anything." She didn't intend to make it a joke. There was nothing funny about this and nothing funny about the departing emotive souls that were skating across her mind. There's so many…
Luke patted the cushion next to him. "Come. Sit." Rey obeyed and sat on the other side of the couch furthest from him. The earlier encounter with Luke into her mind was still fresh and awkward, and she wanted to keep her distance in case he tried any of his woo-woo mind tricks again.
"When my sister and I learned about the truth of our father, it was shocking. To know that we were part of this monstrous corporation that did stuff like this." He gestured at the TV. "We felt complicit, even though we didn't really know what was happening. Though, our ignorance wasn't an excuse. We knew that terrible things were happening in a distant place across the world and never had the consideration to put two and two together." He paused. "It's hard to see what's happening down below from so high in one's ivory tower."
"You can't blame yourself," Rey said. "Children trust in their parents to do the right thing." She tried to ignore the pang of jealousy that came unbidden. At least Luke had a father to know.
Luke nodded toward the TV, where a horrifying segment featured a woman clad in sand-beaten clothes clutched the body of a limp baby in her arms. The child's limbs dangled and swung stiffly as the mother open-mouthed wailed. "This is what my family's legacy will be."
"Not if I can help it," Rey said, smoothing down the front of her dress. She glanced at the fragile silver watch on her wrist. "I better get going so I'm not late for my date."
"Remember what you've learned," Luke called after her as she walked out the front door to her car. It was already running and Chuy was waiting in his SUV parked next to her in the driveway. Another car was warming up, presumably for Luke and Leia.
The door chimed as Rey opened it and she slid into the warm BMW, the heated seats welcome against her near-naked self. The night was chilly; winter was creeping in. She was grateful for luxuriousness sometimes. She pulled the door and it sealed her in, dampening the outside noises. It was just her, the purring of the engine, and some awful pop music quietly playing over the radio.
"Chuy," she huffed, annoyed he changed her presets. She skimmed through radio stations until something heavy, loud, and growly came on. "Perfect." She was invigorated by the angry music and thrust the car into reverse. She peeled out of the driveway, startling Chuy who had been distracted playing a game on his cell phone, and he hurried to follow her.
Rey whizzed through the streets, jumping onto the freeway and screaming into traffic. It was only moderately busy on the roads and like was wont of people who drive BMWs, she zipped her way in and out of lanes without even using her blinker. She giggled as she glimpsed Chuy frantically trying to keep up with her, which only egged her on more.
The music pounded, vibrating the speakers, and she quickly downshifted when the car in front of her lazily hit its breaks. Jerking the wheels, she narrowly squeezed in front of a big rig, which honked angrily and flashed its lights. She didn't care. The last couple days had been a trip. Hell, the last few months had been something out of a movie. She floored the gas a bit more, kicked it up a gear, and shot ahead like a fired gun.
She wanted to keep going, keep driving down the snaking asphalt arteries that covered the state. If she kept going, she'd eventually chase the sunrise, find herself somewhere off Highway 1, overlooking some rocky beach and watch the pink and orange creep up over the crashing waves. But she couldn't do that. She had a duty. And before she knew it, she was pulling up to valet at the massive tower and finding the express elevator to the top.
The elevator was quick. She wasn't sure if it was the speed of the car or the nervousness that made her feel dizzy. In a few seconds, she'd be in his presence. He'd be there, looking down at her with those dark eyes, reaching for her, penetrating h—
Ding!
The doors slid open and her feet found their way to the hostess stand. A youngish woman, with an asymmetric candy apple red haircut, briefly looked Rey up and down. "You must be Ms. Jacks. Please, follow me." She sauntered toward the dining room, not even looking to see if Rey was following her. Rey nervously trailed her like a puppy, trying not to stare much at the stunning surroundings.
The restaurant was huge, with giant floor-to-ceiling windows glimpsing the entirety of Los Angeles, Santa Monica, and Hollywood in their breadth. It was noisy with the packed dining tables, the clinking of silverware, the music from some unseen jazz quartet. The ceiling was disorienting but beautiful, with its honeycomb-style coffering and massive brass décor of prisms and bars arranged in eccentric shapes. Rey had never seen such an artful space, in a restaurant no less.
The path the hostess took lead them to a frosted glass door of a private dining room. "Enjoy," she said without a smile, and closed the door as soon as Rey entered. She had to keep from gasping. There was an immediate response from her body and she suddenly tingled.
Ben was standing at the window, looking down at the twinkling city. He was uncharacteristically fashionable and wasn't clad in dark and gloomy clothes. He wore a pair of soft grey boat shoes and tailored charcoal trousers that were rolled up just a bit at the ankle so a peek of bare skin showed. He had on a simple, tight white shirt and a blue twill blazer over it with the sleeves pushed up, so she could see the tautness of his sculpted forearms. His hair, like usual, was brushed back and messy, but he pulled it off so effortlessly. This was the heir to a massive and controversial empire that engaged in some of the worst atrocities known to mankind? He looked like he just stepped off the cover of Esquire and was about to go to the clubhouse with the boys.
"Ms. Jacks," he said softly, not moving. He saw her, blurred and still, in the reflection of the window.
"Mr. Solo," she said, gripping her beaded black clutch for dear life.
He turned to face her and she could feel his eyes scan all over her, ever so quickly. "Please. Have a seat." He gestured at the dining table, which was meant for a dozen people but had place settings for only two: one at the head of the table, and one at its left. She immediately heated for the latter, knowing full well where he would be positioned.
In a couple of strides, he was behind her, chivalrously pulling the chair out for her. She sat, obedient, and he pushed her in toward the table. He unraveled her wrap from her shoulders and took her clutch, depositing them on the chair across from her so they were out of her reach. A waiter, whom she hadn't even noticed was there, snapped her napkin out and laid it over her lap then filled her water glass.
"Thank you," she said, quietly.
"Miss, would you care to look at the wine menu or are you pleased with what sir has ordered tonight?" A wine bottle, still sealed, sat on the table between them. Its label was fancy and French and it looked expensive.
"I'll trust his selection," she replied.
The waiter picked up the bottle, presented it to both Ben and Rey, and Rey nodded and hmmed like she knew what she was doing. In her training with HOTH, she learned a little bit about many things, but she never could figure out the etiquette and intricacies of wine.
The waiter sliced the foil, popped the cork, and poured the first taste for Ben, who sniffed it, sipped it, and gave his approval. The glasses were poured and the waiter disappeared; Rey presumed he had another table to creep over.
Rey reached for her glass and he watched as she sipped it, waiting for her reaction.
"It's good," she said after she swallowed a dainty sip. She was going to need more than a glass to calm her nerves.
A quick half-smile tickled the corner of his mouth. "Good. It's one of my favorites. It's a Bordeaux - Chateau Latour Pauillac. 2006. It's an incredible vintage, highly unusual for its ilk, as it was almost ruined that year, on account of the unseasonal amount of rain in September. That's usually when they start picking grapes for the wine, but it didn't stop for nearly the entire month." He sipped his wine and sighed, admiring the taste. "Not many were willing to pay the price for a 2006 Bordeaux as they did in previous years, because some people simply can't enjoy the strong tannins. I think this was one of their best years."
Rey just thought it was a strong-tasting, good wine. "I didn't realize you were such an.. aficionado." She hoped she pronounced the word correctly. She took another sip and made an appreciative noise.
He leaned in close to her, his eyes serious and glimmering. "I am an aficionado of many a thing, it would surprise you." He snaked a hand between their wine glasses and tentatively wrapped his long fingers around her hand she had gripping the stem of her glass. "There is so much I could show you, so many amazing places and experiences and sights. Have you ever been to France?"
Rey opened her mouth a bit, unsure how to answer, and mercifully, they both heard the door open. Ben pushed back, annoyed a bit at the interruption, and the waiter arrived with a small tray. He placed a basket of warmed artisan breads and butters on the table and then two small, flat-bottomed ceramic soup spoons.
"Samples from the chef," he said, proudly. "Roasted cauliflower soup with toasted turmeric and coconut." He placed a spoon in front of each and waited patiently. Rey followed Ben's lead and drank the soup. It was flavorful and warm and in Rey's mind, probably the most amazing preparation of an oft-hated vegetable.
"Delicious," Ben declared.
"Wonderful," the waiter said. "Would sir prefer to have that substituted in his soup course?"
"We will have both."
"Of course." The waiter nodded and scurried off, again.
Rey assumed by now that they were being watched. Surely, Leia, Luke, and Chuy were sitting in the restaurant. Maybe Finn, too. And there was no doubt in her mind that Ben had some of his own people there. Maybe the waiter was one of his hired goons, for all she knew. Maybe that soup was drugged. Maybe that tasty morsel of cauliflower soup came with a hint of ketamine.
"You know, it isn't good for the body," Ben warned, sniffing at his wine and taking another sip.
"What is?" she asked.
"Worrying."
"I'm not worrying about a thing," she said coolly.
He laughed into his glass, his breath fogging it up momentarily. Rey realized she liked it very much when he smiled, with his lips pulling back to reveal his perfect teeth, the pink of his tongue probing his lip. She immediately wondered how that tongue would feel, hot and wet, as it licked and explored down on her-
Stop it, she warned herself, but it felt like the voice wasn't entirely hers. She had to be careful. She had to not let her inhibitions loosen, not let the wine get to her head, and more importantly, not allow Ben to get into her head. But the wine was incredible, the company was enticing, and the waiter just arrived with their soup course.
"Here is the lobster bisque, topped with a scallop and beet foam," the waiter announced, placing bowls in front of them. "And, per request, the roasted cauliflower."
"Thank you," Rey said, politely. Ben harrumphed a sound that resembled an appreciative acknowledgement. The waiter topped off their wine glasses and disappeared.
After taking the first taste of her lobster bisque, Rey was grateful that the bowls were shallow. The bisque was rich and creamy. Even after all these months, Rey still had trouble adjusting to the luxuriousness of a comfortable life. They ate in silence for a few minutes, only hearing the muffled din of the restaurant outside of the room and the hard patter of rain on the windows.
Rey spooned the last of her cauliflower soup. "So, you've reviewed the documents?"
Ben shrugged, noncommittedly. "Perhaps."
Rey frowned. "Perhaps?" she repeated. She rested her spoon in her bowl and leaned back in her chair, displeased.
He reached under his chair and produced the binder that Rey had given him only a couple days prior. A multitude of sticky notes and tabs decorated it. He had clearly gone through it.
"Perhaps," he affirmed.
Rey didn't like where this was going. He was testing her patience. He was testing her. She finished her glass and held it out for him to refill. He obliged, with an amused smirk.
She took another hearty sip. The alcohol, on a nearly empty stomach, was making her brave. As soon as the words began to tumble out of her mouth, she regretted them.
"I'm surprised you had the time to go through it so methodically," she began, "considering you followed me home the other night and broke into my apartment." There. She said it. She sipped at her glass nonchalantly as she could so that she had something to do instead of sit there and tremble.
His face darkened. "What?" his voice was barely imperceptible, just a touch above a whisper.
She paused, but did not put her glass down. She wanted some barrier to hide behind. "You know what I'm talking about." She tilted the glass to drink, again, but his hand reached out quickly and encircled her wrist. It was not painful, but it was firm and he guided her hand down. She licked her lips nervously, wondering if the wine was already staining her lipstick.
"What are you talking about?" he said, seriously and concerned.
"After I met you at your office the other day," she said, as if that was all that needed to be told. "Are you forgetting?"
He shook his head. "No. That wasn't me. Or any of mine."
"Really?" she snapped, the bravery rising with her blood pressure. "You're telling me that it was a complete and total coincidence that the first night we meet – I! a representative of your most hated enemy – was not followed after you did your damn mind tricks on me for the better part of an hour and it wasn't you that found my apartment and broke in and chased me out and—"
"Rey." He touched her again, but his grip was gentler, timid. He immediately began to flood her emotions with his memories.
She gasped and lost her grip on her glass. The goblet clunked once against the white tablecloth, cracking at the stem, and the wine spilled, coloring the cloth red.
Their reflections in the office window.
His hands on her back.
Her face reaching his, their lips meeting.
A fiery explosion in his chest.
Rey coolly smoothing out her skirt.
Rey's back as she strides away. Rejection.
Something broken, shattered, an angry reflection.
Pages of documents, bleeding with highlighters and pen marks.
Sleepless night.
A sense of yearning.
As quick as the memories came, they were gone. He released her wrist and she pushed back in her seat, panting and gasping for breath. The damned waiter reappeared, and bringing another wine glass and a cloth to blot up the mess. When he had left, Rey glared at Ben.
"How do I know that you didn't fabricate those thoughts?" she accused.
The pang of hurt that crossed his face almost made her heart ache in return. He genuinely was taken aback by such an allegation.
"Rey, I would never do that," Ben said. "You think I'm that loathsome?"
"I don't know. No. Maybe." Rey's cheeks reddened to the color of the wine. "I'm sorry. It's just that.. it's very hard to trust you right now. Or anyone. This is a difficult situation. I feel the balance of our organizations is resting on the two of us. And that is a tremendous burden to carry."
Ben filled Rey's new glass and topped off his own. "Did you call the police?"
Rey was confused. "What? After we met? Wouldn't that be strange, 'Hello, officer, I think my mind was diddled by a Jedi —"
"No," he interrupted, sharply. "After your apartment was broken into."
"Oh." She shook her head. "Not exactly. After I was chased out, I sort of ran into the cops. Well, into a police car. So in a way, the police were involved."
"Did they find the perp? Did they arrest anyone?"
"No." Her mind darted to the business card from Officer Dameron and the symbol he had drawn; she only dwelled on it for a nanosecond and clouded the memory in case Ben was probing. "It's probably too soon. It's been only two nights. Besides, I think the LAPD has more to worry about than a prowler." She neglected to mention she hadn't even returned to her apartment, but it was probably good to not reveal her locations for her own safety.
Ben frowned, displeased at this information. "This isn't good." His brow furrowed and he seemed to be distracted in thought by something more pressing than the whole purpose of this evening meeting.
Rey watched him, wary. "Ben?"
He snapped back to attention and his gaze cleared, though Rey could see he was still a bit troubled by something. "Ah, the next course is here."
They ate their steak tartare in subdued quietness, only making superficial comments on its tastiness or agreeing for another bottle of wine to be ordered. Rey worried about driving but figured if she had too much, Luke or Leia would drive her back in her BMW. She wondered where they were and reached out with her mind, but the restaurant was very full of busy minds and she was started to get a bit too inebriated. Besides, it was rather difficult to prod for Luke's mind of all people.
By the time the main course arrived, they had still not addressed the elephant in the room. Rey's mind was fuzzing, and so was her guard.
"So, Mister I-don't-stalk-women-I'm-attracted-to, when are you going to discuss what we have in our binder?"
He smiled, coolly and calmly. He had to have had more than twice the amount of alcohol that Rey had, but he was acting as if he were sober.
"Would you tell me a bit about yourself, Rey." It was a command, not a question.
She pushed a spear of asparagus around her plate, caught off-guard by such a question and wondering what was the point. "There isn't much to tell."
He chuckled, graciously. "There has to be more to the story about a little waitress who has catapulted to success and is now a powerful presence in one of the largest environmental lobbyist groups in the world."
Her cheeks were warm. Is it the wine? she wondered. But she wouldn't look up at him. "I wouldn't say success," she muttered. "More like luck."
"How do you mean?"
"At the right place at the right time."
"I see."
She carved off the tip of her asparagus and munched it, thoughtfully. "I suppose you've always been in the right place."
His eyes darkened. This was going into territory he did not appreciate. "What are you implying by that?"
She mowed a potato through a puddle of buttery sauce. "I think you know."
He laid his hand on her arm. "Stop playing with your food. What do you mean by that?"
She looked up at him, her eyes clouded and angry. Ben tried to tease out what she was feeling but was met with a firm and stony wall. He retreated, his mental tail tucked between his legs, and she softened a bit at his acquiescence.
"I meant that you've always had it," she said. "You've had what you've needed. What you've wanted. You're born into this—" she twirled her hands about "—kind of lifestyle. You don't know what it's like to be broke. Starving. Homeless. Do you?" Her eyes darkened again, full of accusation.
"No," he admitted. "I have not been any of those things, in the literal sense. But I know what it's like to be broken in spirit. Starving for knowledge. Homeless in the heart." He frowned, realizing that he had struck a very sensitive nerve with Rey. "My apologies. I didn't mean to offend."
"It's okay," she whispered, fixing her gaze at the table. For the second time in the night, she felt the hotness of tears burning on her eyes. Dammit! She hated when she did this; she couldn't control it and she didn't like to appear weak. She wasn't sad; she was angry.
An errant, damned tear broke through the barrier of her thickly mascaraed eyelashes and trickled down. Ben reached out, catching it on the edge of his finger and tenderly wiped it away.
"It wasn't my intent to anger you," he said, genuinely apologetic.
"You didn't." She blinked furiously and took another sip of wine. "I'm upset, not angry."
"Tell me the difference."
Rey pushed her plate aside, cleaned off and only a smear of gravy remaining. She did not seem to have an answer.
A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "If you're still hungry, we can order more."
"I'm absolutely stuffed," she said. "But when you grow up poor, you learn to never waste food." She daintily patted the napkin at her lips.
"Hmm," he harrumphed, thoughtfully. He immediately scooped up some food on his fork and popped it in his mouth. "So? Angry? Upset?"
Rey pondered his question. "Being upset is the immediate, knee-jerk reaction to something. I get upset if I get a parking ticket and I was only two minutes late to filling up my meter. I'm upset when I'm on my period and my roommates eat my cookies and cream Haagen Daaz. I get upset if I get a hole in a pair of my jeans. Soccer moms at Starbucks get upset if the barista gives them 2% instead of non-fat." She paused, reflecting on her soul-sucking days of working in a restaurant. "Like they can even tell with all of the insane amounts of syrup they put in those drinks." She scowled and poured herself some more wine.
"And anger?" he prompted.
She swirled her wine, watching as it streaked the insides of the glass. She tried to remember what Leia called them when she was giving her a formal dinner primer. Legs? It was legs. Legs because they dance on the inside of the glass. You dance after having too much wine.
"Anger," Rey murmured. "It builds up over time. It festers, it grows, it takes root. It consumes and blinds you from reality. When anger is the only emotion, when it's left unchecked, it's catastrophic. It empowers you, in a bad way."
"It emboldens you," he interrupted. "It becomes you."
She glanced at him, but didn't say anything.
"It's a powerful emotion," he continued. "It's not a bad thing. It's demonstrative of your humanity, Rey. It is raw. It is untapped strength." He leaned in closer. "I can show you how to harness it. I can show you how to make it bend to your will and—"
"No," she hissed, leaning back in her chair. She shook her head. The world trembled a bit. Fuck. She was drunk.
"Rey, there should be no shame," he said, urgently. "Anger is just another emotion that is powerful, therefore it's exploitable. You take that anger and you control it, you can channel it. It's just one of many ways to take advantage of the force."
"I can do that in other ways," she muttered. "With emotions that aren't so destructive."
He smiled a knowing smile. His eyes scanned her again, and he chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. "Would you like to go dancing?"
"What?"
"Dancing. Let's get out of here."
Her mind swam. Dancing? With Ben? The room was getting stuffy. And she was so full from dinner, so burning some energy sounded like the greatest idea in a while. She thought of the wine, the pulsing music of a club, the throbbing bass, the seizure-inducing lights.
"Yes," she said. "Yes, I would like to go dancing."
Ben threw his napkin on his now-empty plate and beamed. "Let's go."
"Right now?" Rey gaped, fumbling for an excuse. "But-but we haven't even had dessert yet."
"We'll get it to go," Ben said. He grabbed Rey's wrap and draped it over her shoulders and handed her the clutch. He tucked the binder under his arm.
"I-I don't know if I can drive," she said, fumbling with the snap. She couldn't even get it open, much less figure out how to get her keys out.
Ben tenderly covered her hands with his. "I have a chauffeur. You can get your car later." He nodded toward the waiter and slipped something in his hands. "Make sure her car doesn't get towed. 781THX11. A black BMW 4 series coupe." He started shrugging into his jacket. "Ah, and wrap our desserts to go. Quickly."
The waiter disappeared at lightning speed. Ben fumbled through some large bills and tossed them on the table.
Rey began to panic. What if this is a trick? Wine me, dine me, get me out of a public area and to a private place where he can easily dispose of me? Or maybe ransom me to HOTH? Will they pay? How much would he ask? Oh, God, what if he'll want to do an exchange? Leia would volunteer, but I can't let her. I got to find a way out of this.
Rey snapped back to attention when Ben's hand alighted on the small of her back. It cast tingles down her spine and then he was guiding her out of the room.
The waiter handed Ben a bag and smiled widely and nervously as he back-pedaled out of his way. Another man was waiting, huge, stern, and with large sunglasses which was absurd in the dim restaurant. A coiled earpiece was clipped to his collar and he was holding the door.
"Oh—I—" Rey's eyes darted about as they entered the main dining area, scanning through the crowds. There were so many people, too many people, and the noise was disorienting. She was too drunk and the feeling of Ben's palm on her back made her surrender herself. She felt electrified to him and she couldn't command her own feet. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, another body guard appeared and flanked Rey on her other side.
As they weaved through the maze of the dining room, she saw another man. Slender, shaved head, and with a pair of black-rimmed glasses that she knew were actually a heads-up display; he was one of theirs. He was rising from a corner table as the small entourage was approaching and he stared at Rey, assessing to see if he should act. She shook her head, slightly, and crooked her hand up at her waist, flicking her fingers gently. A confused look crossed his face and he sat back down.
Ben's fingertips pressed deeper into her back. He knew what she did. He smiled down at her.
Then, at the back of her mind, a rapping. Luke. His presence bloomed and filled her head. She could tell he was angry.
Where are you going?
I'll be fine.
Rey.
Luke. Stop. You need me to seal this. I will.
Rey!
Now keener to Luke's invasive techniques, she walled him off and silenced his voice. The elevator yawned open, the body guards entered, Rey's heart pounded, and Ben gently nudged her in. He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close, and the doors slid shut.
###
A large, black SUV pulled up from valet once they stepped outside. One of the huge bodyguards took the keys from the attendant and got into the driver's seat. Ben opened a passenger door for Rey and she climbed in; he followed her. The other guard got in front and as soon as the doors closed, they took off with alarming speed.
It was still dreary out and the rain pattered heavily on the windows, but the silence inside of the car was deafening. The surly bodyguards were as huge as Chuy but were clean shaven and did not play any catchy bubblegum pop on the radio. She had never wished more than to listen to some Britney Spears at this very moment.
Rey's hands sweated and she rubbed her thumbs over the beads of her clutch to distract herself from the overwhelmingly awkwardness. She stared at the window, watching the world pass in a blurry, drunken haze. She wondered what Luke and Leia were doing. Did they send someone to follow? Are they worried? She couldn't feel them, but she was also building up her mental wall. She began to feel guilty.
Then, Ben's hand alighted on her knee, so gentle and soft, it was like a butterfly landing on a flower. She tensed and would not turn to look at him, but did not push him away. He took that as a signal it was fine and let his hand rest more heavily, spreading his fingers like tentacles.
Her breath hitched. His palm was warm. His fingers, long. Her thoughts strayed to dirty places, wondering what the tips of those fingers would feel like if they slid up her thigh, stroked her stockings, unclasped the garter belt from her panties, and—
"We're here."
Rey squinted through the rain-streaked window. "What's this place? It doesn't look like your office."
He chuckled graciously. "No, this is one of my properties."
One of?
"I own quite a few properties," he continued. "Some are here, in southern California."
The passenger doors opened from the outside. Rey stepped out, accepting the outstretched hand of one of the body guards to steady herself. She needed it; her legs were a bit wobbly. She didn't even realize that he also had an umbrella opened and cordially held it above her.
Ben came around the car and casually looped his arm in hers, guiding her down the sidewalk, avoiding the big puddles.
As they approached the edifice, she realized when he meant "property," he didn't mean a home. He meant a night club.
"You own the Exchange?" she gaped.
"Not entirely," he glanced down at her, his mouth stern but his eyes showed that he was pleased with her reaction. "I'm a part-owner."
She couldn't think of anything to ask but, "Why?!"
He glanced at her with a peculiar look at his face. "Why not? I have my hobbies and my interests. It just so happens I'm rather fond of electronic dance music."
For some reason, this struck Rey as hysterical and she burst into giggles.
"Why's that so funny?"
"I'm just imaging you with a pair of glow sticks waiting for the bass to drop," she laughed. "Wub-wub-wub!"
He sighed and tried to look angry but the hint of a smile threatened the corner of his lips.
They reached the front of the line where the bouncer immediately recognized him. He put himself between the crowd and Ben, letting the couple slip in.
Rey was met with such loud and intense music, it was like being smacked in the face. She recoiled a bit, struggling to maintain her drunken walking with the heels, but Ben's grip around her tightened and he helped her keep her balance as they took the stairs to the second level.
The club was huge. Though, Rey was not much of a dancer, so she wasn't entirely sure if this was normal for a night club, but she was fairly certain most of them were not four stories tall with a giant stage and dance floor that held what must have been a hundred gyrating, sweating, dancing bodies. Some DJ was on stage behind an array of turn tables and computers, his movements appeared staggered and unearthly as the epileptic lights pulsed in rhythm with the robotic thrumming of the music.
Ben lead her to a private table where there was already a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket. "Do you want a drink?" Ben's voice came to her not to her ears but her mind.
She whipped around and glared at him. He only smiled innocently, gesturing in the air and then to his ears.
It's so loud in here, it's easier this way.
Careful, Solo. I still have my wits. I am drunk not as you thinks I am.
He only smirked.
Rey plopped down in the booth and the world spun just a little. Ben grabbed the bottle, popped the cork, and filled the two flutes.
She felt particularly ballsy and clinked his glass with hers. "To our respective companies," she started. "That we may find common ground."
They sipped their champagnes, his mouth tight-lipped and his eyes serious.
"—and that we don't destroy the whole goddamned planet," she continued with a sweet grin, before chugging down the rest of her drink.
The bubbles rushed straight to her head and she clunked the glass on the table, glaring at Ben in disbelief. "Are you – are you still sober? I mean, I've been pretty, I'm pretty, pretty good at matching you drink for drink. And lookit you, Mister Stoic, Mister Solemn-Face, Mister I'm-Too-Good, you're sitting there, stone cold. How are you not even drunk? You're not even buzzed?" For some reason, this grievously insulted her.
He sipped at his glass, his face emotionless and void. He sipped until it was empty, then stood up with a hand extended. "I want to dance."
"I thought you'd never ask," she said, coyly.
Ben lead her to the dance floor, where a crowd of people moved and undulated in unison, like some neon, glow stick-colored, sparkling organism. The music thumped heavily from massive speakers and beams of lights and lasers burst in every direction in rhythm with the sounds the energetic DJ was creating.
Ben used the Force to gently persuade people to part from them, and he carefully snaked a path through the crowd, dodging the overzealous shape cutters and shufflers who were a little too into the music, until they were in the middle. He relaxed his influence a bit, and the dancers unconsciously shifted closer, with just enough distance that they wouldn't bump up against Rey. He had created a buffer around her.
Rey realized that she had never really gone intentionally dancing with a guy before. All her times out were with her few girl friends clubbing, mostly with Kelly, and the guys she mostly encountered were fumbling, drunken frat boys and she'd often be dodging their attempts at feeling her up or trying not to spill her drink.
But Ben.. maybe it was the alcohol, stupefying her senses. But there was something so right about him in this very moment. The prickles of sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes, half-lidded and dark, gazing down at her. His forearms flexing and relaxing, tightening those delicious muscles, goddamn, Rey loved a man's arms. Even the way he danced was intoxicating. It was hard to not look like a seizing fool when dancing to electronic music, but he danced and did it well.
Something was awakening in Rey. She felt a call to something primal and dark. And as the music quickened and the drumming pounded, and she thrust herself toward him, pressing her hot, heaving, hungry body into his, and he did not stumble or pause but took to her as it was the most natural and organic thing to do. He responded in kind, crushing his torso to her back, cradling her ass with his pelvis, and stretching his fingers possessively around her ribs just centimeters below her breasts. His grip seemed to encircle her entirely. His hands were so big. She felt so small.
The music thumped, pulsating like rapid heartbeats. Rey wrapped one arm around herself, clutching his hand with hers. She stretched up with her other arm, running her fingers through his hair. She was grateful for the tall heels that brought her closer to god, closer to Ben, and she deliberately tugged him tighter so she could press her ass harder against his groin. A stirring was the only response she needed.
Let's get out of here. She wasn't sure whose mind it was, calling out the instructions, maybe it was both of theirs at once, but it was definitely her voice that said, "Go. Now."
Their exit and their drive passed in a blur, each second ticking closer to the inevitable storm that they were chasing. Her mission directive, forgotten, and all she wanted to uncover was the mystery of what Ben looked like, preferably clothes-less.
The driver pulled into an underground garage and Ben got out of the vehicle before the engine could be killed.
"Mr. So—" one bald guard began and Ben raised a hand in silence. "Remain here." He reached over, grabbed Rey by the arm, and tugged her from the car, scooping her effortlessly into his arms. She shrieked in delighted shock as he carried her to a secured elevator. He punched in a code, the doors opened, and he strode in with his precious bundle.
The instant the doors sealed them in, he dipped his face to hers, hungrily kissing her lips, probing her mouth with his tongue. She kissed him hard in response, releasing ravenous moans and gripping his head with both of her hands. She wriggled to escape from his fireman's carry, all she wanted was to ravish him, but he tightened his embrace.
"You're so drunk," he gasped when he came up for air. "You'll break – mmm – your ankle on those fuck-me heels."
"Are we – gasp – at some penthouse of yours?" she said, with a hint of snark.
"One of many." He nipped sharply on her bottom lip. The doors dinged and opened and he did not stop kissing her even as he carried her through a dark foyer, down a tiled hallway, and Force-pushed a bedroom door open. Only there did he gently set her on the bed and with a flick of his finger, turned the lights on low.
She flopped back onto the bed, her eyes adjusting to the light and still a bit dizzy from the booze. "One of many," she repeated with a laugh. "Your bedroom is probably bigger than my apartment." She brought herself up to her elbows and opened her mouth to make some other witty comment but was struck dumb.
Ben had already partially-stripped, wearing only his trousers, and was unlatching his wristwatch when he caught Rey's eyes. She was unabashed in the way she stared at him, drank him in. "Oh, fuck me," she whispered. His hair was messy and a bit sweaty, his face flushed and dewy. His shoulders, down his chest, down to his lightly-fuzzy belly were all made of thick muscle. His forearms, goddamn! She wanted to feel them crushing her against him. He was stunning.
"That's the plan," he said, tossing his watch on the nightstand. Then, he dove in, kissing her again, and she reached eagerly for his waist.
"Uh-uh-uh," he chided, swatting her hand away. "I want to go first." He pulled her up so she was sitting at the edge of the bed. He knelt down and carefully undid the tiny straps of her shoes, slipping her feet from their prisons. Fuck, he'd make a sexy shoes salesman. He stood her up and turned her around. He brushed her hair away from her neck, and his breath was hot on her skin as he took the zipper in one hand and slowly slid it down her spine, opening her dress and pushing it from her shoulders.
"Turn around," he commanded. He held an arm out for her to steady herself so she could step out of her dress. She stood before him, wearing only a black strapless bra, a thong with a garter belt, and a pair of thigh-highs.
"Fuck me," he echoed her words, breathlessly.
Rey stood in front of him, suddenly struck nervous by how near-naked she was and how his eyes skimmed over her body, eagerly and hungrily. She subconsciously willed the lights to darken, but he was quick to will them brighter.
"Don't," he whispered. "You are beautiful." He knelt down at her, almost worshipful, and undid the silken straps that held her stockings up. He gently rolled them down, careful to not tear the fragile fabric, his fingernails skimming her legs all the way.
Rey bit her tongue to keep from moaning. There was something delicious about the Skywalker Enterprises heir on his knees, at her feet, undressing her.
He rose, but not without his hands sliding up her sides the entire way. They stopped at her back.
"May I?" he said, suddenly remembering his manners.
The anticipation was killing her. "Take it off," she whispered.
With one quick movement, he unclasped her bra and he let it fall to the floor. Her nipples hardened in the cool air. It didn't bother her; she knew her tits were great and Ben was drinking in their sight. She felt a shudder in the Force. He was trying to fight himself, and he was losing. He needed her permission.
Rey wasn't a shy partner. She was positively throbbing down below, her body eagerly readying. She reached for his crotch again, this time without resistance, and she savagely ripped his belt away, unzipped his trousers, and pushed them off his hips. His cock was already straining against his boxer-briefs, cast to full attention. She couldn't help but utter an approving moan as she tip-toed up for a kiss, clenching his ass in both of her hands, digging her nails deeply as if to claim ownership.
That was all he needed. He pushed her back onto the bed, tearing her panties off and she writhed naked under him, moaning in his mouth. He broke their kiss, and pressed his lips to her neck, down between her breasts, across her belly, and on the insides of her thighs. She squealed and gasped and wiggled at each touch, arching her ass toward him in a desperate play, begging for release.
He looked up at her, her legs framing his head, his shaggy black hair all a mess and he smiled. "Patient, Rey," he murmured and let his tongue tease her, relishing the flavor of the salt and sweat of her skin and taking in the sweet, organic scent of her pussy.
She was clean-shaven, entirely. She must have been expecting something. He grinned devilishly at what she must have been planning, and let the tip of his tongue probe her plump lips. She whimpered piteously and gripped his hair in her fingers.
"Do you want me to taste you, Rey?" he asked, innocently. His breath was hot and tickled her skin.
"Yes," she gasped. "Please."
"Show me how you like to do it," he said. "How you do it to yourself."
"You want me to masturbate?" Normally, the idea would have repulsed her, but there was something unbearably appealing about having Ben as her forbidden voyeur.
"Just a moment. I want to know what you like."
Rey hesitated a moment, wondering if she should just push a memory to him through the Force. But she knew better than to try to challenge him, so she obeyed.
She leaned back on the small mountain of pillows and spread her legs a bit. She grazed two fingers down between her lips and she gently began to move them around in little circles. She was wet, oh so wet, and she rubbed herself tenderly. Her other hand firmly pinched a nipple. She moaned in short, little gasps, surprisingly aroused at how much she enjoyed Ben's penetrative and serious gaze as he watched her, her silent and rapt audience.
"What are you thinking about when you touch yourself?" His voice was husky and thick. Rey didn't need to reach into his mind to know how he was feeling. His neck muscles twitched and his hands clenched. His throbbing was palpable. She half-expected his cock to spring out of his boxers like a premature jack-in-the-box.
"How good it feels," she said, sliding a finger inside. Her toes curled. He bit his bottom lip in response.
"Who do you think about?"
"Right now, it's you," she confessed before the quieted, sober Rey in the back of her mind could stop her. She slid another finger in and emitted a little cry. Yes, yes, it's you, you gorgeous fucking jerk, you've been on my mind since I met you.
He called for her to stop. He took her fingers and sucked on them, licking them clean.
"Delicious," he murmured. "I want more." He went down again, this time knowing just where she liked it best. With one hand, he cupped her ass so he could crush her to his face, and the other reached up and pinched her nipple.
"Fuck," Rey cried out. Ben knew all the places to touch, the right amount of pressure, the right amount of twisting and kissing. Never had a partner been so in tuned with her body. She pushed herself toward him, gasping and moaning. He was an artist; she was his muse. He licked and teased, sucked and nibbled, knowing just where she wanted him to go next, knowing which nerve to electrify. He was inside her head, anticipating her next desire, and fulfilling it.
He brought her to the precipice of orgasm over and over again, stepping back down a notch just enough to cool her, then bringing her back again and again, sucking and kissing and licking and tasting and twisting and pinching and doing it with growing, feverish intensity until her breathing grew into panting and her throat tightened her gasps and her ass muscles quivered and then he just pushed it all until-
"Ah! Fuck! Yes-yes-oh-god-Ben-!" she cried out as the orgasm reached its crescendo, her thighs fiercely tightening around his head and her fingers in his hair, and he gripped her tightly, forcing her ejaculate into his mouth, moaning with her as she trembled and quivered in the aftershocks.
She fell back on the pillows, gasping for breath and Ben only crawled up, a sneaky little smile on his face. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Was that nice?"
"Nice?" Rey panted. "Are you kidding me? I've never come like that before in my life."
"Just you wait." He peeled his boxer-briefs away, his cock springing out eagerly. It was long, fat, and heavy, with a thicket of black curls, and Rey gnawed on her bottom lip. It had been so long since the last thing she had fucked wasn't made of silicone.
He straddled her, his legs long and muscled and covered in a wisp of black hair to match, and then leaned down to hold her arms over her head. His hands were so big, one could easily pin both of her wrists down.
Rey wriggled a bit under him, craving more. If that was the appetizer, she couldn't wait for the main course.
"Greedy girl," he murmured in her ear, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Where are your manners?"
"Please," she begged.
"Mmm," was all he said, kissing her neck down to her breasts to take a nipple in his mouth. He sucked on it heartily, as if he were drinking some sweet nectar, and her pussy throbbed and she could feel herself dripping. Then, he moved to the other nipple, nibbling at it gently, sucking hard till both of her nipples were reddened, wet, and engorged.
"Do you know how badly I've wanted to do this," he purred, kissing her neck. He inhaled deeply to relish her scent and his cock twitched at her moans. "Since the moment you walked into my office in that tight little skirt and I wanted to take you on my desk, right then."
"Then—" Rey gasped as he grazed her nipples again. "Then, what are you waiting for?"
He growled a bit, and with his free hand, reached down to guide his cock into her. She was eager, so eager, so ready, as he slid inside of her, and she took him effortlessly, gasping and crying out. She squirmed under his grasp, wanting to grab him, to touch him, and she was driven mad by how much she wanted to touch him, to force him in harder and deeper, and it felt so fucking good and he slid in and out with measured carefulness, and she cried out, begging,
"Harder, please!"
And still, he didn't release her hands and she moaned, pressing her legs tightly into his sides, hoping to force him in,
Just come, come in!
but he was persistent and gentle and she became wetter and more desperate and then when she didn't think she could take it any longer, he let go of her hands and cradled her by the back of her head, pressing his forehead against hers –
Fuck, what am I doing?
- so close that their noses were touching and their mouths were panting into each other, their moanings and groanings in unison and she grabbed his ass again, that tight, delicious, perfect ass and she pressed him in, urging him to go harder, faster, fuck me faster!
Damn you, Ben, you're so wrong for me
and he slid out, almost to the tip and she almost cried because it felt so wrong but felt so good, then she pushed him in, hard, wrapping her thighs around his, fuck me, fuck me, and then he pushed in again, and again, harder, fiercer, matching her hummingbird's pulse,
until all she could think and feel was him inside her, him, him,
all she wanted was Ben and he fucked with a furious passion, with each thrust
Ben!
propelling her closer and closer to the edge, that glorious cock of his slick with her sex,
Yes! Ben! Fuck!
when all of a sudden, they cried out together, and her vision sparkled black, and her insides quivered and trembled around him as he released in her, filled her up, it was orgasmic, cosmic, was this God, united flesh, she couldn't stop shaking, this felt so wrong – no, it was right! and how it was oh so-
"Fuck—" he gasped, collapsing on top of her, the aftershocks of her orgasm still quaking. He was out of breath, clinging to her, their bodies sweaty and sticky and hot.
"Fucking amazing," she finished.