Page 73 of Salvaged Heart
I released him from where I held him tightly against me, and he flopped to the bed like I had fucked the bones right out of him. The sight of him wholly spent beneath me was enough to drag me over the edge, and two last deep thrusts inside him had me spilling into him as my orgasm barreled through me.
The edges of my vision were fuzzy as I, too, tumbled to the mattress, managing to roll sideways and out of him before I crushed him under my weight. We lay there silently, catching our breath, his head turned towards me, hair an unruly mess. Anders was always gorgeous, but this was my favorite version of him. Thoroughly sated, a twinkle in his eyes, looking at me like I hung the freaking moon. I was so deeply and irrevocably in love with the man before me that I would never recover from him allowing me to be his.
“That was…” There were no words to describe it. Sex had never felt that good. “When you can get it up again, I want you to do that to me.”
He groaned in response. “It might be a minute. I’m not young like you, pretty sure my dick’s fallen off.”
I held back my retort that he was barely three years older than me. “So dramatic.” I chuckled. “Come on, old man, let’s get you cleaned up and tucked into bed.”
33
ANDERS
Iwoke to the feeling of a warm body pressed against my back and muscular arms holding me close. I was cocooned in Beck’s woodsy scent, hot, slow breaths tickling the base of my neck. It wasn’t the first time I'd woken like this over the last few months, but those other times had all been dreams. Each morning would go the same. I’d wake thinking Beckham was in bed beside me, and I would snuggle into his warmth only to find the bed suddenly empty, cold, and myself miserably alone. The crashing weight of grief that would follow the realization it'd all been in my head made me wish I could close my eyes forever and live with him inside my dreams.
But there was something different about this morning. The bed was warmer, his scent stronger, and the rise and fall of his chest against my back an unfamiliar sensation all too real. I twisted over, expecting Beckham’s phantom body to be just a memory, but my face collided with a muscled chest instead of an empty, cold pillow, and I heard the faint thump, thump, thumping of his very real heart.
The previous night came back to me. Limbs wrapped around other limbs, hot frantic kisses, whispered I love you’s, andmind-bending orgasms. He was here. He was really here, and he’d done what I'd once begged him not to do but had prayed desperately that he’d ignore.
He had waited for me.
I would never let him go again.
As if roused by the very same thoughts that circled my brain, Beck shifted beside me, muttering something unintelligible into my hair. A deep rumble vibrated through me, making me shudder in his arms.
“You cold, baby?” He muttered and tugged the blankets around me tighter.
“No, it just hit me that last night happened.”
I felt his sleepy smile next to my ear, followed by soft, leisurely kisses down my chin and over my jaw until his lips found mine. This kiss was slow and deep. Gone was the frenzy from last night, and we took our time waking one another up. He pulled me on top of him, and I ground our hard, still-naked bodies together until we were falling over the edge of bliss. It was lazy and unhurried and so incredibly perfect that a small tear appeared in the corner of my eye. I didn’t wipe it away. Instead, I let it roll down my cheek onto his skin.
He didn't mention it. He just ran small reassuring circles into my back as we came back down. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered.
I’d almost forgotten. “Best Christmas ever,” I mumbled, falling back asleep to the soft rumble of his laugh.
I’d been dreading returningto Lake Norman for days, already pushing the journey back twice. The reality that Beck’s life was now here in Nashville and mine there, eight hours away, wasenough to make me want to pack up all my belongings. But I’d made a commitment to Kara and, more importantly, myself. Nashville wasn’t good for me, plus I had therapy and doctor’s appointments I needed to go to back home.
“It will just be for a little while,” Beck promised me.
We had so many things left to discuss, but there was no hurdle I wouldn’t face if it meant I got to be his. The silver lining was that his father wasn’t due back until after New Year’s, which meant all projects were on hold and Beck could make the long drive back with me. He’d get to stay a few days before catching a flight back to Nashville.
It wasn't much, but I’d take what I could get.
“There’s somewhere I want to take you before we hit the road.” He was loading our bags into the trunk. A navy beanie pulled down tight over his ears. I’d never seen him wear one before, but it made his blue eyes shimmer in the frosty December air.
“If it’s to see my parents, then you can count me all the way out,” I grumbled.
Laurel had texted Beckham Christmas night after we’d failed to show up for church with them, choosing to spend the day worshipping each other’s bodies instead. Apparently, our cover was blown, and the Mitchells were less than thrilled about Beck’s and my relationship. The way my stepfather had been lighting up Beck’s phone since told me that it would not be pretty when that confrontation happened. They could go fuck themselves as far as I was concerned. It wasn’t like they had approved of my life choices to begin with. I didn’t need them approving of them now.
“I don’t think anyone is ready for that.” He pecked me on the lips and opened the passenger door for me.
“So, where to then?”
“It’s a surprise. Hopefully, I’m not overstepping here.”
“Well, that just makes me even more curious.”
We pulled up ten minutes later outside a little white church. It was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why I knew it.
