Page 52 of A Not So Merry Rescue
I swear, he looked at me with those hooded eyes, and my body gave him what he wanted.
He played my body like he was a conductor and I was his instruments. All different ones. Woodwinds, strings, brass, percussion. All of them.
And when I thought I was tired, he convinced me I had one more orgasm in me. And damn it, he was right.
If it weren’t so pleasureful, I’d hate him on principle for being so pliable, so yielding to his every command.
My mind’s a little hazy on all the details, but I don’t think he slept on the couch last night. I remember drifting to sleep in his arms, waking once when he pried my eye open.
Did I tell him to fuck off and let me sleep?
Of course not. Hopped up on my knees and let him take me from behind.
He’s unleashed this side of me I never knew existed.
It’s not like my past sex life was bad, either. Elias and I hadour share of playing with different positions, spicing it up. But last night’s sex was on an entirely other level. A level I didn’t realize was a possibility. For me, at least.
Now, it’s half past dawn, or some crazy-ass time, and the man’s disappeared from the bed. When the outside door slams, he’s leaving or returning. Either way, I decide to investigate.
Pit stopping into the bathroom, all I can do is cackle at my flushed face and ratty hair. Attempting to corral it into even a messy bun proves fruitless, so I leave it down, running my fingers through it to tame some of the wildness.
Beckett’s in the kitchen, his back to me while he stands at the counter. He wears a hoodie and gray sweatpants, and I can’t resist the urge to wrap my arms around his front, laying my head against his back. If he’s bothered by it, he doesn’t show it.
It’s strange how comforting it is, how familiar he feels after such a short time. I’m done questioning it, instead letting everything ride out until it’s time for me to pack up and leave.
Which is something I’m not thinking about.
Elias would be so proud of me for living in the moment.
“Morning. I got donuts. Wasn’t sure which were your favorites, but hopefully there’s something you’ll enjoy.”
“Any combination of flour, sugar, and yeast will do. Add in some chocolate, even better.”
He stops whatever he’s doing and shimmies in my arms so we’re face-to-face. His lips meet the top of my head, lingering before dropping a kiss. At least I showered yesterday, so the smell shouldn’t match the mussed appearance.
“Should you leave the house today, it’s cold out. Definitely can’t skip a jacket.”
Warmth infuses my body and soul. It’s only been so long, and this man reads me like a book, offering advice before I even ask for it.
“Good thing I don’t plan on leaving. What did you say you had to do today?” His expression sours, but I’ve let him beataround the bush for too long. I’m a big girl. I can pull up my panties. “Don’t filter on my account.”
“Gotta set up for the Christmas Eve parade. It’s kinda an all-day project. I hate to leave you all alone again . . .” he trails off, his words somber.
“Don’t feel bad. This week was for me to be alone. Granted, I’m not complaining about the orgasms, the food, the company, and if there’s time later to get back to any of it, spending the day on my own will be well worth it.” I smile, but it’s half-hearted. I have an inkling why, but I’m not currently prepared to tackle it.
Beckett pushes a wayward strand off my face, his touch so gentle in contrast to him. I’m coming to appreciate all his sides, not being able to choose which one I enjoy most.
The one who gives you orgasms,an inner voice shouts. Can’t say I disagree.
“What would it take for you to join me?”
I don’t even think. “Nothing. Not happening.” No way in hell am I that compliant.
He shrugs, not bothered by my response. “Had to try.”
“When do you have to leave?”
“An hour or so. Why, did you have something in mind?” A twinkle gleams in his eye.
