He smiles faintly. “Well, it’s pretty simple. You just push this button?—”
“No.” I shake my head. “I know how to turn one on. But… You and me. How dowedo this? Together.”
The air shifts.
I lick my lips.
And then I add, “If you want to…”
He goes still.
Not with hesitation—but with focus. Every inch of him suddenly alert, tuned only to me.
“Say that again,” he says, like he needs to be sure.
“Should we try one of these out?”
BECAUSE… SIX MONTHS!
ASHLEY
Beckett’s seated at the edge of the bed beside me, sleeves rolled, tie loose, jaw shadowed from the day.
The jacket’s long gone. And this man, my husband…
He looks like trouble.
A toy rests in his palm, and he turns it slowly, considering all its possibilities. And then he handles a few of the others, carefully, deliberately, like he wants to know all his options…
My throat goes dry.
“So…” I clear it, try again. “You have a plan?”
His gaze lifts to mine. “A plan?” he says.
Then that crooked smile.
“Oh no, sweetheart,” he says, “we’re going to wing it.”
Of course we are.
And yes, I normally would want to know exactly what was happening, but I also know Beckett.
And I’m all for it. Damnit, tonight, I want to be wrecked.
Then he picks up a small, curved vibrator, and flicks it on.
The quiet buzz is immediate. A little obscene.
I can barely breathe.
Not taking his eyes off me, he slides off the bed, kneels there.
“But you do have a plan. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Maybe.” Oh, that crooked smile…
He grabs my calves, and with a little jerk, pulls me towards him. Once I’m positioned to his liking, he leans forward and…
