“Ditto, honey.”
I snort out a laugh. “Don’t lie. I saw myself in the mirror.”
He pulls me down onto the bed, cradling me in his arms. “You always look beautiful to me.”
“You’re biased.”
“I don’t think I am.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
He climbs out of bed, yawning as he strides toward the bathroom. At some point during the night, Beck removed his shirt, and I admire the ink on his back and the way his muscles undulate as he walks.
Returning a few minutes later, he slides back under the sheets. “Come here.” He reels me in tight to his chest. “I’ve decided my day doesn’t start until I’ve kissed you.”
“You won’t hear any complaints from me.”
My hands snake around his shoulders as he angles his head and slants his mouth against mine. His minty breath comingles with mine as we kiss leisurely. Thoughts empty from my mind as we make out, gently exploring the contours of one another’s bodies as our lips and tongues dance a slow passionate tango. When his hard length presses against my leg, a shudder works its way through me. I move my lips to his ear. “Please let me taste you. I want to make you feel good.”
I prop up on one elbow as he scrutinizes my face.
“No regrets about last night?”
I shake my head. “None. You were right. I still have stuff to process, but it’s only a formality now, Beck. I am all in. I agree we need to wait to have sex, but I need to taste you, baby. Please.”
His fingers tangle in my hair. “You don’t have to beg, but only if you let me reciprocate.”
A slow smile spreads over my mouth. “Now, you’re talking my language.”
A deep chuckle shakes his shoulders as Beck pulls us up against the headboard. I lift my arms, and he pulls my top up and discards it. He kisses my lips before kissing my breasts, sucking each nipple into his mouth and moaning around the hard tips. Snagging his erection through his thin cotton pants, I stroke him slowly through the material.
We quickly get naked and lie down on the bed sideways with my face at his crotch and his head between my thighs. I ogle his gorgeous cock as I pump my hand up and down his hard shaft. He’s long and thick, and his crown is a little angled, perfect to hit the right spot inside me. But that’s not in the cards now, and I’m okay with it.
Beck parts my folds and draws a long line with his tongue up and down my slit. My mouth closes over his aching cock, and I slide my lips up and down his erection, licking, sucking, and tasting. With one hand, I cup his balls and fondle them while his tongue plunges inside me and his fingers rub my clit.
We devour one another in record time, coming seconds after one another. I keep my lips locked on his warm cock, relishing the splashes of cum as it coats the back of my mouth and slides down my throat.
After, we lie naked, wrapped in one another’s arms, sated and content for now. The steady beating of his heart against my ear is beautiful, and I could stay here like this forever. My fingers roam his bare skin, mapping every curve and dent. I trail a line up and down his spine and trace my fingers over the eagle tattoo on his back. “Does your tattoo have special significance?” I ask as he presses feather-soft kisses along the column of my neck. I was tempted to ask when I was creating his dried-flower drawing, but he didn’t volunteer the information, and I chose not to pry.
“Yes. My mom inspired this one too.”
We prop up on our pillows on one elbow and face one another on our sides.
“In what way?” He hasn’t opened up to me about his mother yet, and I want to know. If we’re going to do this, there can be no secrets between us.
“Getting an eagle tattoo is quite popular with men because it’s a symbol of American patriotism. That’s not why I did it. Eagles can soar to great heights and hunt with great precision, and those two things resonated strongly with me at eighteen when I was choosing what to get inked on my back.” He brushes hair off my face. “I want to soar to dizzy heights in my career, and I always want to protect those I love. To hunt the predators who might prey on them.”
I wasn’t expecting him to say that. “How does that relate to your mom?”
“She was murdered when I was ten, and I saw the whole thing.”
ChapterSeventy
Stevie
“Oh my god.” I clasp a hand over my horrified mouth for a second. “That is awful. What happened?”
Beck winds his finger around a lock of my hair. “I haven’t spoken about the events of that day for a long time. Dad sent me to a kiddie shrink after Mom died, but I couldn’t talk to him about it, and Dad gave up after that. It’s only since I started going to therapy last year that I’ve confronted my feelings. I had locked them up inside and thrown away the key. I refused to face up to them until recently.”
“That is a lot to carry on your shoulders.”
