by A. Marie
“I want to see all of you.”
You already do, I want to tell him but ultimately don’t.
I keep my lips tightly sealed as he flips our positions so I’m on top, straddling his narrow hips. I feel his thighs touch my back and when he nods over my shoulder, I see his feet flat on the bed with his knees bent right behind me. I lean back against them with my shoulders supported by his knees, looking down my nose at him.
One large hand where my hip meets my waist and another at the base of my throat, he says, “Hold on.”
“You first.”
His plump lips shimmer with a light layer of sweat as they spread into a wicked smile a second before his hips thrust into me from below, his fingers biting into my flesh.
He is not patient, he is not quiet, but goddamn is he skilled in everything he does.
Beckett looks up through those long eyelashes of his while I grind myself against the base of his cock each time we meet in the middle with hard thrusts from different directions.
“That’s it, dream. Ride me.”
Shudders set in and the vibration affects us both as our moves grow erratic. Our bodies don’t need much guidance though; they always know what to do even when we don’t.
“Come here.”
Still holding my throat, he pulls me to him and he captures my lips in a bruising kiss. From the new angle, my sensitive clit gets more of that incredible friction and my frantic moans threaten to end our kiss but Beckett keeps his mouth plastered to mine, continuing the give and take dance we’re locked in.
It’s messy and chaotic and sloppy as all hell but it’s real and raw and I’m losing my grasp on that small piece of my heart I’ve been working to keep out of Beckett’s reach.
“Beckett,” I moan against his lips when it all becomes too much.
His hand glides from my collarbone to my breastbone, preparing to steal the whole organ right out of my chest.
“Take it all,” he tells me softly. “Take what you need. I’m already yours.”
And there it goes, my heart, into Beckett’s open palm.
Our shared release hits hard and fast and we both curse and moan, our bodies still riding out the aftershocks together.
With his cock still buried inside me, his hands glide down over my ass, spreading my cheeks, and jerking me firmly against him. My mouth drops open from the insane stimulation on my swollen nub, then he thrusts upward, rasping, “Again.”
And fuck if I don’t give him exactly what he wants one last time by coming on command with a high-pitched scream that I’ve never heard in my life.
Absolutely boneless, I drop into a wilted heap on top of Beckett’s sweaty middle, making him huff out a laugh. He positions us so I’m tucked tightly against his side with my head resting on his chest and I can’t remember anything in my life ever feeling so right. This moment, us sharing so much more than either of us were prepared for, changes into something I’ve been trying to deny myself and before I know it sneaky tears flow out of the corners of my eyes.
Beckett wipes them away, stroking his fingers into my hair.
“You feel it, too?”
I don’t speak. I just nod against his chest.
I feel everything.
He takes care of the condom without jostling me and I take the time to glance around the tent. The thick canvas probably allowed our neighbors to hear more than they wanted to tonight. Tomorrow morning will be hard. Tonight will be harder.
After that we’re quiet for a while, his hands rubbing up and down my side, giving me goose bumps that his warmth promptly chases away.
“This changes everything,” he says barely above a whisper just before his arms go limp around my back.
Like always, that bitch Hope ignores my silent request that Beckett’s wrong somehow and this didn’t just change everything.
CHAPTER 28
Paige
The tawny sky is just waking up as I stare out over the gorge in the heart of this beautiful state. The rolling hills are mostly brown with some green sprinkled throughout closest to the river and the shadows they cast have an almost eerie feel to them as foggy clouds loiter menacingly along the crevices.
From my spot just past the now deserted amphitheater, I can see a few early risers making their way to the bathrooms in the distance and figure I better head back in case Cynthia is among them.
Waking this morning, more comfortable than I expected I’d be in a rented outdoor bed with a brick wall of pure heat at my back, I slipped from Beckett’s warm embrace to find my phone completely dead. As soon as I stepped out of the tent, a frantic Angela informed me her coffee machine had taken out the power to all the other glamping sites. Each individual tent gets an outlet for phones and whatnot but with one flick of her espresso maker, she singlehandedly sabotaged my plan to slip out unnoticed.
Unable to help, I went back inside immediately realizing I had no underwear—thanks, Beckett—so I borrowed a pair of Beckett’s sweatpants to wear under my shirt dress. I had to roll up each pants leg and flip the waist band down a few times but it worked out okay especially since it’s actually chilly this early.
Since I couldn’t reach Cynthia by phone, I decided to walk around down by the do-it-yourself campers, but with no clue which tiny tent Cruz’s was in a huge mess of other tiny tents, I gave up and went to watch the sunrise instead.
Back at their site, Marc and Coty are sitting under a canopy at a folding table. Squinting, I see they’re eating sausage and eggs which is impressive considering Angela killed the only possible source of heat before I left.
When they notice me approaching, they exchange glances with each other, then continue eating while taking me in curiously.
They know.
They know what happened between me and Beckett last night but they don’t know what happened between me and Beckett last night.
And maybe, just maybe Beckett doesn’t either.
Just then I hear two heavy thumps and a short exhale. Looking over I see Beckett coming out of his tent, shirtless with a pair of gray sweatpants that I swear were made just to torture me, and hair sticking out at all angles like he’s been yanking his hands through it. He pins me to my spot with a wide-eyed stare and a tight line to his lips.
Unsure what to do, or say, or even think, I wave. A stupid flimsy little wave compared to the momentous actions that just took place between the two of us but it’s my wave and I’m sticking with it.
As I consider tossing in a nice fake smile, Beckett storms across the dirt lined site, putting him toe-to-toe with me in just a few long strides and then his lips are crashing into mine. His hand grasps the back of my head keeping me to him as he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue just past my shocked lips and, even in my brain fogged state, I silently thank myself for stopping to brush my teeth during my walk. Beckett’s kissing me with so much emotion it’s clear this is more than a simple morning after mind-blowing, life-altering sex kiss.
This kiss is a punishment.
Whatever my offense, I’m ready to surrender and atone for the wrong I’ve committed because this kiss is more than I’ve ever been given, ever been shown.
But, more importantly, it’s a claiming. It’s a lasting promise, a foreboding threat, a sentence I’ll happily spend the rest of my life serving if there’s more where this came from.
I was ready to run, willing to break my promise to Beckett that I wouldn’t. But this. This is why I said I’d stay to begin with. This connection between us that neither of us can deny anymore. It’s here. We’re here. I’m still fucking here.
Before my greedy hands do some claiming of their own, Beckett pulls away, leaving me breathless and feverish. With his hand still cupped to the back of my head, he says, “I thought you left.”
How did I ever look at him and see a selfish screw-off that doesn’t take anything seriously?
Because he wanted me to.
Because he wants everyone to.
I nod a bit, glancing toward A
ngela’s tent. “You can thank your accomplice over there for making me your hostage.”
“Nah, dream, I’m the one being held captive.”
The intensity both in and around that sentence threatens to set the wilderness around us ablaze.
“Why do you keep calling me dream?”
Beckett licks his lips, dropping his gaze to mine and then back up to my eyes again before answering vaguely, saying, “You’ll see.”
The last time he said that he followed through. So much more than I could’ve ever prepared for.
With a smack on my ass, he tells me, “Now go sit and eat something. And don’t take off yet. I want you to go home with me.”
“We live together, Beckett,” I deadpan.
“Yeah, but I want to drive you back, not Cynthia.” He drops his voice for my ears only. “Just, give me this one, okay?”
He’s acting a little nervous and a lot suspicious. What is he up to now?
Beckett disappears into the tent, hopefully to put a shirt on so I can function normally again, and with a shake of my head, I move to join the guys who aren’t even pretending to eat, they’re full on gaping.
Coty recovers first once I have a plate of food, saying brightly, “good morning,” while Marc jerks his chin up in greeting, watching through dark eyes.
“It appears that way,” I draw out.
After a beat of awkward silence, we all let out our forced laughs just as Angela emerges from her and Coty’s tent, carrying a steaming mug.
“Oh, perfect timing. Here’s your chai. Beckett thought you coyote-uglied his ass but I knew you’d be back.”
My eyes grow wide as she places the milky cup of tea in front of me.
She chuckles, explaining, “As soon as he saw his phone was dead, he lost his shit and helped get the power up and running again.” Stopping to give the guys a private look, she then nods toward my drink. “He searched two stores on the way up just to find the right brand for you.”
I smile warmly, thanking her and tucking all of that away.
“It’s perfect.” And it is. Spicy yet sweet, creamy but thin, and piping hot. Exactly the way I like it.
Beckett reappears, wearing a shirt that says I like it hard, fast, and loud, and I know from experience this shirt is actually true. Beside me, he flips a chair around backward before sitting down and slinging his long arms over the back casually, saying, “For the record, I’ve never been coyote-uglied in my life.”
Angela’s response is immediate, “Only because no one’s ever lasted until morning to see your face in the light of day.”
The table falls silent and I swear I can feel four sets of eyes land on me simultaneously. My food becomes very interesting though as I keep my gaze glued to the plate.
“Are we all going to beat around the bush about this?” My eyes widen a fraction, hearing Beckett. “Fine, I’m just gonna come out and say it: who invited neighbor girl? She’s a total party pooper.”
Coty sobers from laughing at the two friends going back and forth to warn, “Hey.”
Angela shushes him saying, “I’m more fun than you three losers put together.” With a mumbled “sorry” to Coty she continues, saying to me, “Paige, would you please tell him?”
I glance up, rushing to say, “Oh, I’m not… This isn’t…”
Beckett turns my face to his, seeing straight through me. “You are. And this most definitely is.”
Our staring contest continues until Coty coughs, asking, “What time are you guys heading out? We can help load everything up as soon as we’re all properly caffeinated.”
“Speak for yourself,” Marc mutters. “I didn’t even want to bring all this shit.”
“How you liking that hazelnut latte, Marc?” Angela snaps and Marc just sips his coffee in silence, fighting a smirk over the rim.
Beckett steals a sausage link from my plate but instead of getting offended like I did when Cruz did the same thing, I lean over, snatching his hand with mine then bite the end off. Better he learns it now—what’s yours is mine, but what’s mine is still mine until I say otherwise.
He pauses then tosses the rest of the link into his mouth like it’s a mint.
“Unless Paige needs more sausage after this,” his perverted wink earns a heavy eye roll from me, “we’ll get ready after breakfast.”
I murmur “half a pound” under my breath, making Beckett full-on howl with laughter.
“I’m happy to prove you wrong, girl.” Using one arm on the table and one on the back of my chair to cage me in, he whispers against my ear, saying, “Again.”
My head shakes his obnoxious snicker away but not the pulsing between my thighs.
Cynthia and Cruz stroll over then, their movements planned and agitated, with guilt written over every inch of the both of them. Something tells me that whatever happened between them last night doesn’t hold the same shine to it now that we’re in the light of day and that it won’t be happening again.
The now familiar hand stroking my thigh under the table rubs away the uncertainty I’ve been wrestling with all morning and I know our story doesn’t hold the same fate. I don’t know what will happen tonight or tomorrow or a month from now but we already tried the avoidance path. It was painstakingly long and tedious and took a lot more energy than I have to spare.
Unfortunately, a relationship of any kind with me will be chockfull of scarce interactions laced with even less communication. A guy like Beckett, the life of every party, will not remain patient for a girl that isn’t even around, let alone attempt the faithful route for her.
Looking at him now though, completely at ease with his affections for me on full display, he makes a pretty convincing argument for what could be.
Someday.
* * *
The drive home should’ve been an hour and a half tops. Beckett stretched it to an even three hours. He insisted on stopping at every rest stop, fruit stand, and general tourist trap along the way. It was when he pulled over at a little free library for a selfie that I figured Beckett was stalling. I just don’t know why.
Finally back at the apartment, before I even have a chance to drop my bag, Beckett grabs my hand excitedly to tug me along behind him.
“Come on. I got something I want to show you.”
“Was this all really just so you could show me your dick again?”
Beckett’s laugh echoes off the walls as I trail after him down the hall and at my room he stops to peer in before dragging me through the door I know I left closed but is now wide open.
Complete darkness meets us.
“No, but I’d like to revisit that offer.”
I blindly shove his arm since I can’t see a thing.
“It wasn’t an offer.”
“Agree to disagree.” I can practically hear his smile. “Seriously though, this isn’t about me.” The light flicks on, illuminating my room—or at least I think it’s mine—and he says, “This is all for you.”
My gasp cuts the silence before my hand can cover my mouth.
“Did you do this?” I look to Beckett, whose hands are twisting in front of his torso and he nods shyly.
So, this is why he was acting so different.
“How? When? It wasn’t like this yesterday.”
He walks further into my new and improved room and spins to face me with his hands spread wide.
“I’ve been working on getting some stuff put together all week but had to call in some reinforcements to get it just right. Thanks to your brothers, everything came together last night.”
I blink at him before scanning the wall over his head. It’s covered in pictures. Photos of me with my brothers, old family photos with my parents, and even one of me…sleeping? Right in the middle of the collage is a large black and white close-up of me in what looks like Beckett’s bed.
My eyes fly to his.
“I took that one while you were asleep last weekend.” His voice is velvety smooth with a snag at the end. “You looked-�
�
“Happy,” I finish. And it’s true. Snuggled between his soft sheets on his massive bed surrounded by his sweet woodsy scent, I do look happy, peaceful, like there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
He asked me recently if I was happy living here. In this one photograph, he was able to capture what I wouldn’t voice. What I couldn’t even allow myself to recognize. Until now.
“And the others? How did you get those?”
“I asked Tysen and he gave me what he could find. Thank God for the cloud.” His chuckle fills the room and I lean into it. Into him.
“Wait, what do you mean you asked him? Since when do you talk to my brother?”
“I asked him not to tell you yet, but Tysen works at Pop The Hood now. Dude started a few days ago. When I told him what I wanted to do, he was happy to help and thankfully he got the rest of your brothers on board, too, because I wouldn’t have been able to pull this off without them. After all that shit came out,” my eyes drop to the floor, “I think they just wanted to make you feel comfortable. Cared for.” His tone drops a few decibels. “They wanted you to know you’re loved. To feel it no matter what.”
I glance back to him and after several attempts at swallowing down the new emotions clogging my airway, I say, “Thank you. For doing that. With this and Ty. You have no idea what you’ve done for him. He’s…”
“A great mechanic,” he cuts me off adamantly. “We’re lucky we found him. We’re gonna need him if we want to open a second location.”
He doesn’t leave any room for argument with that but I know. I know what Beckett did even if he won’t admit it.
Nodding, I take in the rest of the room. It’s decorated in my favorite colors: white and gray. Different sized pillows of all textures spruce up the perfectly made bed with a black throw blanket draped across the bottom. Running my fingers over the luxurious fabric, I notice something shiny hanging above the head board next to an artistic print of a curved road.
Beckett explains, saying huskily, “It’s a dream catcher.”
“Is that a sprocket? And chain links?”
