Page 39 of A Not So Merry Rescue
All the while, he dominates the kiss. Lips slanted over mine, his plundering tongue, the most exquisite moans. Oh, that might be me.
My body vibrates with awareness, a sensation so strong, I could combust. I never want this to end, yet if it doesn’t, I’m afraid it will be the end of me. I can barely breathe. If I don’t get oxygen soon, I’ll wither away to nothing. But what a way to go.
“God, Willa. You taste . . .” Beckett speaks with our lips still pressed together, somehow doing both and making some semblance of sense.
I smoosh my chest harder against his. “Don’t stop, Beckett.” But when I seek his mouth, he pulls away. “Not done yet,” I whine.
His other arm meets the one holding me up, and with careful steps, he backs us to the table, taking a seat in the chair, pulling me onto his lap. Beckett situates me where he wants me, and my legs straddle his, his erect cock struggling to be set free. Our breathing’s erratic, an unsteady pace of heaves and gulps.
With me steady on his lap, he loosens my messy topknot and twines his fingers in my hair. “Not done yet either, Bundy, but my lungs have a limited capacity. I’d imagine yours do, too.” Words escaping me, I nod my agreement. Emotions swim through the swirling blues of his eyes, fine lines outlining the edges. “I wanted to do that to you the minute you asked if I was a serial killer.”
His remark gives me pause. He’s wanted to kiss me since we met?
“Did you now?”
“Until you revealed your disgust for Christmas. That shut the idea down real quick.”
“Huh. What made you change your mind then?”
He taps the side of my head. “Your words. How you challenge me. The pain you carry.” He delivers the words tenderly, each soaking into my brain and finding residence, the last one burrowing the hardest.
I don’t let many people see my pain, the hidden scars of my past. Why I’ve let my walls down with him is a mystery, one not even AJ could solve. Despite knowing him for forty-eight hours, he’s safe, a soft place to land among the planes of hardness on his exterior. His soul is kind, generous, a beacon of light in a storm.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I murmur, hoping he doesn’t force the issue. The connection between us severs the minute I drive away. Whatever we share during our time together will stay in Winterberry. It’s the opposite of Vegas in every way, with the exception of lights this time of year, but the sentiment is the same. What happens here, stays here.
“Not even to let me help you carry it?”
“Why would you want to burden yourself with my problems?” I try to wiggle from his grasp, but he holds tighter. I don’t have the strength to fight him.
Or maybe I don’t want to.
“As I mentioned, I don’t take on other people’s emotions, but I’m a superb listener. You can ask anyone.” His smile is shy but honest. So much truth embedded in his statement, I’m tempted to pour my heart out.
But I don’t. It’s not his business. I’m not his problem.
This time when I scooch away, he lets me go.
“You’re not another name to add to my list, Willa. I don’t know how I know, but I do. You’re going to stand out. I’m sure of it.”
He stands up and places the gentlest kiss on my head. Astorm of emotions kicks up inside me. Thank goodness it wasn’t my forehead. I’m certain I couldn’t handle that.
“Water’s boiling,” he announces, breaking me from the spell I’m under. The spell of Beckett and theplethoraof emotions in me.
Maybe my best bet is to figure out a way to leave . . .
12
beckett
I watch her every move.She wasn’t lying about being less than handy in the kitchen. From the way she opens the bag—the noodles all but spilling out from how she rips it open—to how she awkwardly holds the pan by the handle to dump it into the strainer. Her elbows flail out at weird angles and her entire upper body twists with the movement. If I didn’t think she’d get frustrated with me, I’d wrench it out of her hands. With the vicarious cliff we’re dangling on, I keep my distance, preparing the veggies. But I don’t let my sight stray from her.
She fixed her bun after I fluffedher hair. It leans adorably to the left, and it’s all I can do not to take it out and fix it. Center it on her head.
Kiss her lips again.
The unrelated action stirs my cock. Damn, I can’t wait to get her underneath me. Naked, willing, aroused. The kiss we shared awakened something inside me, a feral beast who won’t be satisfied until he’s fed.
Several times.
