by Emilia Finn
“Why the fuck are you thinking about me and other women?” I fix her top on her shoulder, but pull it back a little to kiss the back of her neck. I make my way around to her other shoulder. I worship her. Cherish her. Love her. “Don’t do that, silly.”
“I’d prefer if you were bumbling and unsure,” she says. “Make it look like you hardly know what you’re doing. For my own sake and sanity.”
“Or, you could just think of me and you. And Graciela,” I add with a laugh when the horse sneezes. “You don’t have to invite other people into your thoughts, Tabby.” I press another kiss to her neck. “I sure as fuck am gonna learn how to block Mark out.”
Turning quickly, too quickly, and leaving me stunned, Tabby presses her face to my chest and breathes. “I’m afraid this is gonna feel weird. Or that it won’t work out. Or that I’ll want to kill you after five minutes together.”
“Well…” I chuckle. “It will work out. It won’t be weird unless we make it so. The likelihood of you wanting to kill me is high, so accept that now and be okay with it. Plus,” I place a hand beneath her chin and drag her face up, “you called me the other night and made me listen while you came.”
“Oh god.”
“It wasn’t weird then.” I feather my lips over hers and swallow her sigh. “It was really fucking beautiful, to be honest.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” she whines. But at least she’s smiling. Embarrassed, yes. But horrified? No. “You’re never gonna let us forget that.”
“Fuck no. But don’t fret. I came too.” I slide my tongue over her bottom lip. “I tried to hold you off for about two fucking seconds. Then I was in, and my willpower was shot to shit.”
“Kind of a metaphor for our lives, I guess.”
“You mean if you slide into bed with me tonight? I’ll try to hold you off for about two seconds, then it’ll all be over. You can have your way with me.”
She giggles and buries her face against my chest again. The tips of her ears burn red. The tops of her cheeks, crimson. “Yeah.”
“I would probably only fight you for one second. If that,” I chuckle. “After that, I’m gonna flip you over and eat you up.”
“God,” she pants and clutches at my shirt. “You’re gonna kill me from embarrassment before we get anywhere with this.”
“No need to be embarrassed.” I drag her face up and grin when our eyes meet. “You just have to trust me to do the right thing by you.”
Folding my neck, I bring my lips to hers and sigh when she exhales. “You let me kiss you here,” I slide my tongue over her bottom lip. “And here.” Her jaw. I cruise over to her ear, and when she moans, my cock fills with blood and presses against her belly. “Here.” I nuzzle the soft spot behind her ear. “And here.” Her cheek.
Tabby’s hands clutch at my shirt. Like she’s lost at sea, and I’m the buoy she clings to.
“And here.” I make my way to her throat. I have to bend, have to fold my neck, my back, to reach the places her modesty keeps hidden. “I want to taste you all over, Tabby.” I unsnap a single button of her shirt.
I’m not here to expose her, and I sure as hell have no desire to ravish her while she’s still so nervous. But I want to taste. Just a little bit. Just a sample.
“I wanna taste you here.” I cup her breast and groan when she whimpers. “And here.” I slide my palm along her ribs. “Each one,” I murmur. “Each rib. When it’s time for us, I’m going to—”
“It’s not time for us now?” Tabby’s heart pounds in her chest. Nerves and uncertainty warring with lust. She glances up, almost as though in shock, and searches for my eyes. “You don’t wanna… now?”
“I do wanna.” I dive back in and take her mouth. “I’ve wanted to for a long time. But you’re so nervous, so tightly wound, you’re about to spring into the fucking sun.” I inch back, but only to take her hand, her delicate fingers, and press the pad of each one to my lips. I taste her, lave her, love her. “I want you so much that it breaks my heart to be such a fuckin’ gentleman. But I don’t get off on pressuring you.”
“You…” her brows crinkle close together. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m gonna need you to come to me. Today. Tonight. A month from now,” I add, so she knows she has time. “The call is yours to make. But when you’re ready, I need you to make the move. Prove you’re doing it for you and not because you think I want it.”
“You don’t want it?”
“Well, yeah. Of course I do,” I blurt out on a laugh. “But I want this more.” I slide my hands into her hair. My fingertips against her scalp. “Your brains, Tabby. I want that so much more. And this.” I press a palm to her heart. “I want your heart. The sex…” I shake my head. “That’s the toy at the end, for sure. But I came for the meal first.”
“I’m the meal?”
“Mm.” Hunger hums in the back of my throat. “Bad metaphor. But yes. In this case, your brains are the fries in this Happy Meal. Your heart, the cheeseburger.”
“I prefer chicken nuggets.”
I bring my hands back up to cup her neck. “Whatever turns you on, babe. But the point is, I’m here for you. Not sex.”
“But you wouldn’t reject me, right? If I wanted to slide into your bed.”
“Fuck no.” I bring our lips together and grin. “Zero risk of rejection, I promise. But I just want you to be sure. To know that’s not what this is about. Then, when you do come to me, be prepared to come on my face. I’ve been thinking about that since we met.”
“Beckett!” Tabby bursts out so loud that the ducks on the lake take flight. “Why’d you have to say that?”
“Two reasons,” I chuckle. “One, because it’s true. I really have thought about it since I met you. Second, because I really like seeing you blush.” I nuzzle her cheek, and laugh. “Third… now you’re thinking about it too. I feel you in the fucking air.”
“You said there were only two reasons.”
I shrug. “I found another on the fly. So fuckin’ sue me.”
Nuzzling the warm spot behind her ear, I slide the pad of my thumb over her chest and grin when Tabby’s breath chokes to a stop. Her nipples act like beacons. They’re peaked, hard, and dying to be touched.
“I’m gonna count the seconds until I get to taste. To touch.” Then I pull back and meet her eyes. “In a totally non-pressure kinda way.”
She snorts out a laugh. “Smooth.”
“I’m just trying to be straight with you. You’re wanted so fucking much. But there’s no pressure.”
“Chivalrous of you.”
Smirking, I slide the tip of my finger to the V of her shirt and pull it forward so I can peek inside. “Chivalrous is my middle name.”
“No it’s not,” she huffs. “I know your middle name. It’s not Gentleman or Eunuch either.”
“Still.” I release her top and meet her eyes. “Wanna go for a swim?”
Tabby’s brows shoot high with surprise. “A swim?”
“Yeah. It’s called softcore porn. Zero pressure, of course. But stripping you down without actually asking for sex sounds like a brilliant plan to me.”
“Softcore porn.” Shaking her head, Tabby only steps away and circles around to Graciela.
My stomach sinks for a moment, my anticipation, as rejection slices through my chest. But then Tabby uses our equine companion as a type of shield to undress. She drops her jeans so they pool at her ankles, and my stomach forgets what it is to sink.
“Decent way to experience being mostly naked in front of you, but without the pressure,” she muses.
“That’s what I’m sayin!” I whip my shirt up and toss it to the ground.
“If you see my body and run away, then I guess we can safely assume a relationship ain’t gonna work.” She drapes her shirt over Graciela’s back. “But if you continue to eat me up with your eyes, then we’re off to a good start.”
I hurriedly unbutton my pants and let them drop. “And if I chase you into the wate
r and blow raspberries on your belly?”
She barks out a fast laugh. “I don’t know that I can verbally consent to that.”
“You can’t?”
“But only because I feel foolish doing so. However,” she steps out from behind Graciela in a matching bra and panties. Black and black on creamy white skin. “I’m not gonna forbid you from doing it.” She blushes. From the tips of her ears right down to the tops of her knees. “So if you catch me and blow raspberries on my belly…” Her cheeks pale from nerves. “We’ll be okay.”
“So I guess I’m gonna give you until the count of three.”
“Huh?” Her blush is gone, but her peaked nipples remain. “Come again?”
“Two.”
“What?”
“Run.”
“No, I—”
“One!”
I bolt straight for Tabby, around Graciela, and then follow at Tabby’s heels as she darts for the water. Her ass looks fantastic in her panties. Her legs, long enough to tickle her armpits. Her hair is still wet; from her shower, then from the gentle rainfall during our walk.
I smack her ass while we run, and laugh when she yelps and crashes into the water. I catch her with an arm around her waist, then I scoop her up and bring her around so we’re stomach to stomach, chest to chest as I wade through the water with racing breath and a heart that hammers with glee.
It’s warm—much warmer than I expected—which means my balls stay where they are, instead of retreating into my fucking stomach. Tabby’s legs dangle at first, her shyness keeping her from me, but then I kiss her. I slide my tongue past her lips and hug her close, and she finally brings her legs up and around my hips.
Blindly, I continue into the water so it covers my legs. Then our stomachs. Our chests. Fuck knows what’s on the bottom of this lake, but I continue in until we’re submerged up to our necks, and then I kiss her some more. I sample her. Cherish her.
“I know this is new for you.” I pull her bottom lip between my teeth. “But it’s old news to me.”
“What’s old news?” she pants.
“That I love you.” I bury my face against her neck and breathe when she doesn’t. “I love you, Tabby. I won’t pressure you into sex, and I sure as fuck won’t pressure you into having feelings. But I wanted you to know where I was at. There’s no point starting this with half-truths.”
18
Tabby
Your island, my island
Beckett and I spend half a day in the magical lake. Our skin wrinkles, and goosebumps chase us as the temperature drops. But it’s not until hunger makes us desperate that we consider parting and making our way back to the bed-and-breakfast.
While in the water, Beckett proved his love by his touch, his tongue, his words and heart. He held me for hours, he tasted me, tempted me, and though my brain is filled to the brim with all the things I have to worry about, he was able to take me away and make me live in the now.
And that’s all I want. To not be in my head. To not overthink or second-guess my actions today.
I left the relationship I knew. I dumped the man who told me he loved me and had something very important to discuss, the man I moved for, and when I get home, the man whose belongings will still be in my apartment. I did something crazy and spontaneous and courageous, and though I don’t regret it, that doesn’t mean my brain isn’t spinning it around, over and over, and dissecting.
I have so much to do. To plan. I have to call Jen, to tell her about my day. To give her a heads-up, and perhaps nudge her toward transforming my apartment and boxing up Mark’s things before I return.
But if I look at my phone, I’m going to see the million missed calls. The texts. The pleas that I speak instead of ignore. And the fact of the matter is, I’m just not ready for that yet. I’m not ready to leave this fantasy world I’ve been gifted with and shatter it with real-world complications.
Regardless of Beckett’s part in all this, whether he wanted me or not, whether he flirted or looked at me sideways one time too many, there’s been something else playing under the surface between me and Mark. Something that feels off. Something that doesn’t feel good for my soul.
Me saying goodbye to one, honestly, has nothing to do with the other.
“Do you wanna finagle Darla into preparing a picnic for us?” Beckett leads me through Graciela’s stable, his hand wrapped around mine, the other stroking the pregnant horse’s back. “That way, you don’t have to wear another fucking gown for dinner, and we get a little privacy.”
“The gown!” I press my free hand to my face and laugh. “Do you have any clue how difficult it was to step into that dining room last night?”
“On the contrary,” he giggles like a child. “The fabric looked so freeing, I’m certain your movement wasn’t at all difficult.”
“Ass.” I jab him in the ribs and elicit a chortling squeal. “It was horrible. It was itchy and made me claustrophobic.”
“Blasphemy,” he continues to snigger. “You looked stunning. Honestly? It was the doilies that sealed the deal for me. I wasn’t sure before that if I truly felt something for you.”
“I’m this close to stabbing you in the throat with a rectal thermometer.”
Stunned, Beckett’s eyes whip to mine and widen. “That was aggressive as fuck,” he laughs. “Jesus, Tabby. Tell me how you really feel.”
“Frustrated,” I answer quickly. I know he was being rhetorical, but that doesn’t stop me from spewing all of my feelings into our hands. “Terrified but optimistic. Oppressed, but it’s my own doing. I’ve just spent a day dry-humping you and not coming.”
“Geez.” Beckett reaches up to loosen a tie he’s not wearing.
“And that was after a phone call, apparently, and not a dream, where I got us both off.”
“In record time,” he adds with a sly smirk. “I’m not proud of how quickly you undid me.”
“So I’m sexually frustrated, my stomach is swirling with nerves, I might be forced to wear Caroline Ingalls’ gown again tonight, unless we opt for a picnic, and even then, Mother might insist on chaperoning, since we’re not married.”
“Maybe we should get married, then.”
Dumbfounded, I stop walking and look up to Beckett’s eyes. “Shut the fuck up.”
He bursts out laughing. “Rude! A guy asks you that question, he deserves not to be cussed at.”
“Yeah? Well, a woman deserves to be asked properly, and not on the same day she actually starts dating a man. We haven’t gone out yet, we haven’t had dinner—”
“We had dinner earlier this week,” he smirks. “I had steak. You had a burger.”
“We haven’t even slept together!”
“We slept beside each other, last night,” he counters with arrogance. “I even held your hand for a lot of it.”
“You—” I stare at him in disbelief. “What?”
He shrugs. “I’ve taken you home to meet the family. Now that we’re here, we can tick off vacationing together. Those are the foundations of any successful relationship.”
“So you’ve been in a relationship with me this whole time,” I balk, “without me being a part of it?”
He chuckles and pulls me in close so we can walk again, side by side. “I knew you’d come around eventually. Wanna move in with me when we get back to town?”
“No!” I shake my head and try to fight my way to freedom. “You’re crazy.”
“I’ll give you space… for three weeks,” he concedes. “Two, if the sex is fantastic.”
He laughs when I smack his stomach. “And I’m only gonna be that generous because I see you at work every day anyway. Oh, and since we’re being honest with each other, I should point out that the table in examination room one?” He looks down and grins. “The steel one?”
I nod.
“I’ve thought of thirty-seven different ways to pleasure you on that table alone. Twenty-two of them don’t even require a closed door.”
“You’re suc
h a pig.”
“Last week, while you were handing me a vaccine for Dot?” He bites his bottom lip, deliberately arrogant. “Ya know, the dalmatian?”
“I know who Dot is!”
“I played it all out in my mind. I was gonna pick you up and plop you on that table.”
“To give me the vaccine?”
“Mmm.” He chuckles. “To give you something. Something we both wanted so bad.”
“Wildly inappropriate.”
“Back then?” He nods. “Yeah. Perhaps. But now?” He wraps an arm around my neck and pulls me in so tight, I can hardly catch my breath. “Now, we’re open for business. Lucky for us, we get to see each other every single day. Long hours,” he slides his tongue along my neck. “Early starts.” He bites. “Late nights.”
I roll my eyes. “Needles and removing a dog’s testicles turn me on so much.”
“But think of the romance, Tabby. We could perform surgery by candlelight.”
“Terrible business practice,” I grumble to cover the groan creeping along my throat. “Dangerous and not at all advised.”
“But for you, baby?” He smacks a noisy kiss on my temple. “Anything.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Rosa?” Samara stops at the front door of her home in a dress and dirt-brown canvas shoes. She looks as terrifying as always, and just like always, her presence alone makes my adrenaline spike.
“See,” Beck teases, his lips close by my ear. “I’ve been in this relationship way longer than you have.” He looks back to the girl when I roll my eyes a second time. “What’s up, kid?”
“Mother would like to know if you’ll be joining us for dinner.”
Beckett looks down into my eyes. Silence hangs for a beat. Two. Three. Then he grins and glances back to the girl. “We would prefer something prepared and packaged, please. A picnic would be perfect.”
“Okay!” Samara bounces in place. “I’ll tell her. I hope you had a lovely walk today.”
“We sure did,” Beckett grins right back. “The lake is beautiful.”
