by Aven Ellis
“Listen, I know you have rules about these things,” Livy says slowly. “Or maybe you used to. I don’t think with Beckett you’ve been following the rules.”
I turn and face Livy. “I haven’t. I don’t want to live by rules anymore. I’m following my heart.”
It’s true. I’ve abandoned my rules, my safety net, the structure to the chaos that love can bring to allow myself to fall for Beckett.
It’s a risk. A huge risk. One I’ve never been willing to take before he came into my life.
But as I think of him, I know he’s the man I was destined to love.
And I just hope Beckett can come up with a plan so we don’t have to be this far apart as soon as he comes home.
Chapter 24
The Aubrey Rules To Live By, Rule #24: When making love for the first time with a new man, everything should be perfect. Set the stage for romance. Lingerie. Candles. A bottle of wine or champagne. Make your first time a sexy night to remember.
**Note** Okay, I never planned on wearing snowflake flannel pajamas for my first sexy time with Beckett.
**Note #2** I was supposed to have lost five pounds first. I hate you, French fries. I hate my addiction to you.
**Note #3** I do have candles, but the way he’s been kissing me I refuse to stop him so I can have romantic lighting. Screw it.
Beep!
Beep!
Beep!
I groggily lift my head. My cell is going off with text message alerts. I had been talking to Beckett after his game in Las Vegas, the last game of his weeklong road trip. I’m sprawled out on the bed, stomach down, on top of the covers in my pajamas. Crap, I must have fallen asleep on him again.
I reach for my phone and squint at it. It’s a little after seven in the morning.
And it’s Beckett.
Sweetheart if you’re up message me.
Can you wake up?
AUBREY WAKE UP
I roll over on to my back and type him back.
You’d better be coming to Milwaukee to see me if you’re insisting I wake up at 7 AM on a Sunday.
Then I hit ‘send’ and wait for his reply.
It’s been a week since I moved to Wisconsin. I’m taking the train into Chicago, leaving the station at a quarter after six every morning and hopping on a bus to get to work. The only train I can make back leaves at eight in the evening.
I’m miserable and exhausted.
And to top off my first week in Wisconsin, the snow has been steady, with more heavy snow predicted all day today.
But seeing these messages from Beckett instantly brightens my mood. He’s finally home, and even if he’s in Chicago right now and I’m here, I’m happier knowing he’s back.
I wait for his reply. But oddly, he doesn’t text back like he normally does.
Hmmm. I sit up and stretch, and then push a wild, curly lock of my red hair out of my face. I wait for Beckett to respond when I hear my doorbell ring.
What? Who the hell is ringing my doorbell at seven in the morning? Who even knows I live here?
Wait a minute. Beckett just texted me. And I sent him the link to my new show property when we were talking this week—
Beckett! I leap off the bed and hurry down the stairs, so excited to see him after this long road trip.
I run to the door in my pajamas. I quickly glance through the peep hole, and I do confirm it is my Captain Smart Ass at the door.
I grin and throw open the door. Beckett is standing before me in his black wool overcoat, beanie, scarf and gloves, the snow cascading behind him at a rapid rate.
“Beckett, what are you doing here?” I cry, leaping up and throwing myself into his arms.
I wrap myself around him and he laughs, and I laugh with him. He carries me thought the doorway and shuts the door behind him with one hand.
“Did you miss me?” he asks, his brown eyes sparkling at me.
I stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. “You have no idea how much.”
Beckett’s mouth closes over mine, and I drink in every bit of him—the taste of mint on his tongue, how his five o’clock shadow lightly scratches against my face, how the faint scent of his cologne lingers on his skin.
I break the kiss and study him. “I still can’t believe it. You’re here.”
Beckett puts me down and cups my face in his gloved hands. “I missed you, Aubrey. This road trip was an eternity to me. The whole ride back from Vegas all I could think about was you. I know we had plans to meet up in Chicago but I wanted to see you now. I need this. I need to be with you.”
As I stare into his eyes, I realize the distance didn’t matter to Beckett. He got straight off an airplane at five in the morning and drove nearly two hours in heavy snow simply to spend time with me.
There are no obstacles for Beckett as far as I’m concerned.
I love you, I think, gazing into his eyes. And right now I’m going to show you in the one way I can.
“I want to be with you,” I say softly.
“I’m glad, I’d hate to have to drive right back in that shitty weather,” Beckett says, grinning. He takes off his beanie and gloves, tossing them on the hall table. Then he removes his coat and suit jacket, oblivious to what I’m thinking.
It’s all I can do not to laugh. My beautiful, earnest, sweet boyfriend doesn’t get what I’m saying.
“Beckett, remember when I said I don’t believe in hook-ups?”
“Yeah, I do,” Beckett says, a look of confusion passing over his face.
“I know if we sleep together right now, it’s not a hook-up,” I say. “I want to be with you.”
I watch as Beckett realizes what I’m saying.
“Wait—you want to have sex? Now?” he asks.
I blush. “Okay, I know I’m supposed to have this whole sexy vibe going on and candles and perfume and lingerie—”
Oh shit. Shit! I glance down and realize I’m wearing snowflake pajamas. My first time making love with Beckett and I’m in flannel pajamas? Gah!
“Okay, rethinking. We should wait. I should put on something sexy and beauti—”
Beckett cuts me off by claiming my mouth with his. His kiss his hot and intense. He moves me backwards and pins me against the hallway wall. The kisses are growing faster and urgent and heat is burning through me.
“Oh, God,” I gasp against his lips.
He tears his mouth away from mine. “You’re already sexy and beautiful,” he says, his eyes intense. “And right now is perfect. I want you.”
Then his lips crush down on mine with intensity, and his whole body is hard against mine. “I have gone crazy thinking about you. About this.”
I’m on fire. I swear I’m on fire.
I yank at his dress shirt, freeing it from his pants. Beckett’s hands skim underneath my pajama top and find my breasts. I shiver violently in response. I begin working the buttons on his shirt, and he pauses to rip it off. Beckett removes my top, and finally we’re skin on skin, his hot chest pressed against mine. This feels so good. Beckett’s kisses are crushing, taking, in control.
Now his mouth is all over my body. I’m quivering with each brush of his lips against my skin.
I reach for his belt buckle, and Beckett groans in response. I press my mouth against his chest, kissing a trail to his belt buckle. Then I abruptly stop, standing up and undoing his buckle.
I draw an excited breath and slide his suit pants over his hips. Beckett helps me and his pants drop to the floor. He steps out of his shoes and pants. Now he’s standing before me in sexy black boxer-briefs, and oh, he’s perfect.
My fingertips skim the edge of his underwear, and I’m desperate to feel all of him now, to see every inch of the gorgeous athletic body that belongs to the m
an I love.
As I’m about to pull down his underwear, Beckett stops me.
“I think I get to see your panties first,” he whispers sexily against my lips. Then he gives me another scorching kiss as his fingertips slowly, teasingly slide down from my collarbone, down my breasts, to my stomach.
Gah, my stomach!
“I should eat less fries,” I murmur against his mouth.
Beckett laughs against my lips. “Stop.”
“The salt makes me bloated,” I explain, kissing his neck.
“You’re fucking hot,” Beckett insists, his fingertips now undoing the drawstring on my flannel bottoms. “I can’t wait to see what’s underneath here, Sweetheart.”
I instinctively arch my back against the wall and wind my arms around his neck. I want this. I want him to touch me everywhere. I want to make love to Beckett for hours, to have him explore every inch of me. I want this in a way I’ve never experienced before.
Beckett moves his hands to my hips, and I whimper in response.
“Take them off,” I plead, desperate to be with him.
He removes my bottoms and steps back from me, his eyes hungrily moving over my body. Then he stops at my panties and his brow furrows.
“Lucky Charms?”
What?
I glance down. Gah! Shit! Damn it! I’m in my Lucky Charms rainbow hipsters, the ones my mom teasingly put in my Christmas stocking.
My face burns bright red. “Um, because I love Lucky Charms. My mom got them as a joke,” I say, the words flying out in an embarrassed rush. “I normally don’t wear them, I promise I have sexy underwear, but I got lazy doing the laundry and I didn’t have time to wash them, so I’m wearing them, but if I would have known we were going to have sex I would have worn something else and if you’ve lost your excitement I underst—”
Beckett stops me from speaking by kissing me. “I like them. They’re so you.”
“Shut up, Captain Smart Ass.” I laugh, kissing him back. My embarrassment is replaced by an urgent need to have sex with Beckett.
“Captain Sexy Ass,” he corrects, lifting me up so I’m wrapped around him. “Now tell me where the hell the bedroom is in this place.”
Oh, Captain Sexy Ass, indeed.
We’re kissing and growing hotter by the second as I direct Beckett to the master bedroom. I’d already told him I was on the pill, so there’s nothing stopping us now.
We make our way to the bed, and now I’m wrapped in his massive arms, our kisses growing desperate. I want this moment. I want to be with Beckett, to make love to him, and I want it right now.
“I want you so much,” I whisper against his skin.
“Not as much as I want you.” Beckett gazes down at me, his gorgeous eyes shining at me. “Now, should I see if there’s a pot of gold at the end of your rainbow?”
I burst out laughing as he uses a leprechaun reference, and he does, too. I love this. We can be funny and silly and as his lips reclaim mine in a steamy kiss, passionate and sexy all at the same time.
I love this man so much. And right now I can’t wait to show Beckett how I feel about him.
I’ve come to the conclusion I’m a complete idiot about my rules.
Because despite the fact that I was in flannel pajamas, had on Lucky Charms underwear, and didn’t light a single candle, I had the most amazing, hot, mind-blowing, passionate sex ever with Beckett.
Twice.
He reaches for my hand and links it with his. We’re facing each other side-by-side in my bed.
I stare into his deep-brown eyes, and I feel an overwhelming sense of connection to him. This wasn’t a hook-up. It wasn’t just sex. This was making love with a man who gets me, who adores me, who makes me feel sexy and desired.
And I feel all those things about him, too.
“So is this the part where you throw me out because there’s an open house today?” Beckett teases. “Is that the excuse you’re using to cast me aside after seducing me?”
I laugh. “You’re such a dork.”
Beckett brings my hand to his lips and kisses it. “I’m a dork, but I’m your dork. You’ve somehow managed to get past that, haven’t you?”
He’s teasing, but I hear the faint echo of insecurity in his voice. Beckett still has no clue how attractive he is, both inside and out.
For a brief moment, my own insecurity fills me. That day will come and will he still want me and all my annoying imperfections when he realizes this?
I shove the thought aside. No, I’m not going there. Not after last night. Beckett hasn’t said he loves me, nor do I expect him to. But I know he’s moving in that direction. I know it from the way he treats me. I know it from the way he looks at me.
And most of all, I know it from the way he made love to me.
I clear my throat. “You’re an incredible dork, Captain Smart Ass. I’m on to your game, but I like it.”
He flashes me a huge grin. “I’m glad.”
“Let’s spend the whole day in bed,” I say. “It’s snowing and cold and I just want to be here with you.”
Beckett laughs. “Sounds good.”
“I’m so glad you came to Wisconsin,” I murmur. “I missed you so much.”
Beckett lifts his hand and takes one of my curls and loops it through his finger. “Remember how I said we would figure this out? Your logistics?”
I nod.
“When I was on the road last week, I called my real estate agent,” Beckett says slowly. “And there’s going to be a unit coming up for rent next month in the building. It’s small, street view, but they are looking for someone to sublet it.”
I laugh. “Beckett, how much money do you think I make at ChicagoConnect? I can’t afford anything in your zip code.”
“No, but I can.”
I pause for a moment as I take in his words.
“W-What?” I stammer.
“Aubrey,” he says, lifting his hand to my hair and stroking it affectionately, “it solves everything. You’ll be back home. In your own space. There’s no more commuting, no more time wasted on trains. You sounded exhausted last week. And I know how upset you were about it. Let me do this for you. For us.”
I’m so shocked and overwhelmed I don’t speak. Beckett is willing to spend this money because he’s worried about me. My welfare. My happiness.
Our future.
You’re such an amazing man, I think, studying him.
A worried look filters across Beckett’s handsome face from my silence. “I-I don’t want you to think I’m trying to force you to do it. Or that I’m trying to control you with this offer. It’s not like that. I’m not trying to buy you. Shit, this is coming out wrong.”
I smile at him, the man who is so worried about what I think.
“Are you suggesting I be your kept woman?” I tease.
“No!” Beckett says quickly. “No, that’s the last thing I want you to think.”
“Hmmm, this offer comes up on the table after we’ve had sex. Are you thinking you want me closer for the convenience?”
“What? No!” Beckett declares, his face taking on a pink tint.
I can’t keep it up anymore. I grab his hand and link it through mine.
“You’re the sweetest, most thoughtful, generous man I’ve ever known,” I say truthfully. “And I’m so grateful you want to take care of me like this. But Beckett, this is a lot of money. You don’t have to do this.”
“I know I don’t. But I have money,” Beckett says. “And what’s the point of having it if I can’t spend it on people I care about?”
I love you, I think. I love you so much.
“Come on, Aubrey. Say yes.”
“Okay. Yes.”
Beckett grins happily.
“Give Super Stagers your notice. Come mid-March you won’t need to work for them anymore.”
I’m so happy I think I’m going to burst. “I can’t even begin to thank you for this.”
“Oh, I bet you can,” Beckett says, grinning wickedly at me.
I reach over and flick him on the forehead. “You lied about the kept woman bit, didn’t you?”
“Absolutely,” Beckett deadpans.
I laugh and he does, too.
“Seriously, can we stay in bed all day?” I ask, kissing him on the lips. “I’ll let you watch the National Geographic Channel if you say yes.”
Beckett laughs. “Oh, bringing out the big guns for that. But since I don’t have practice today, yes, we can. No games until Tuesday. Then we play the Dallas Demons. And they’re the best team in the league.”
“So you need to kick their ass,” I say.
“It would be nice, but we still need to make some changes in the locker room for us to grow. There are a few guys with attitudes that aren’t good for the team.”
Pride fills me. Beckett is such a good man, a good leader, and he’s desperate for the Buffaloes to become a better team. His desire to win is what drives him, I know that simply from listening to all his interviews.
“I wish I had the relationship Harrison Flynn has with Nate Johansson on the Demons,” Beckett says, continuing. “Those two are so solid together. They know each other, where the other will be, and it’s all instinctive.”
“Landy’s not that for you?” I ask, confused.
Beckett smiles gently at me. “Sweetheart, Landy’s a defenseman. I’m the center. I need someone on the right or left wing for me like that.”
I feel my face grow hot. “Oh,” I say, still not having a clue as to what he just said. Then I clear my throat. “Well, can they get you that piece of the puzzle?”
