She listened to the sound of their labored breaths with exhausted fascination. Had she known the moment she saw Beck that he would be important to her? If she thought back, it seemed undeniable and he’d just proven it. Thoroughly. What would compare to this? This feeling of depleted exultancy? Nothing. He’d asked her not to worry about his leaving tonight and in her current state, she had no choice. She wanted to forget about it for the night, leave it in his hands. I know everything you need. Everything. The independent woman at her core loathed that sentiment, until it had been spoken by Beck. Now she loved it, because it went both ways. Hadn’t he said he needed her back in the bar?
“Take me home,” she whispered, sighing when he kissed her damp neck.
“I’ll always take you home,” he said. “But this time, you stay in bed with me until we’re both ready to get up. I don’t wake up alone this time.”
It was an actual effort to nod. “Okay.”
He lifted her onto the leather table where she curled up on her side as Beck went to retrieve their clothes. After treating her to the sight of him dressing, Beck replaced her panties, slipping her skirt back up her legs with a gentleness that made her chuckle after the way he’d just taken her. He watched her closely as she pulled on her tank top. As soon as she was dressed, Beck lifted her into his arms and carried her pliant body from the building.
Beck glanced back at Kenna where she slept, her hair a dark, tangled mess on the pillow. The skirt and tank top she’d worn home last night were somewhere back in the living room, he reckoned, leaving her sweet body exposed on top of the twisted sheets. God, she was so damn pretty. If he didn’t think it would creep her out, he could watch her sleep for hours.
How many times last night had he loved her? So many times it felt like a disjointed dream. Hands, mouths, Kenna’s screams, his answering shouts, the bed creaking. Those legs of hers. They’d been shoved open, wrapped around him, pushed up near her ears, bruised by the force of his grip. In the sunlight, those light discolorations made a hard lump form in his throat, but it eased upon remembering her encouragement. The way she’d begged for him to go harder. Harder.
With considerable effort, Beck turned back around, hands clasped between his knees where he sat on the edge of the bed.
Yeah. Saying the two of them had good chemistry was a woeful understatement. She was necessity now. His safe place, the keeper of his desire. And now that she’d let her guard down, he could barely keep up with the things she made him feel. Protectiveness, awe…happiness. At some point last night, when they’d been catching their breath, her soft voice had reached him across the pillow. Tell me about your peach farm.
From that point on, they’d talked for hours about his time overseas, her love of welding, only stopping when his cock started to feel heavy, a condition she’d been all too eager to relieve. Just remembering her mouth skating down his torso was questioning his decision not to take her again this morning. Rolling her body over so he could get at that tight pussy.
Damn.
But no, he wouldn’t. Decisions needed to be made, and they didn’t have time to pretend his plane to Georgia wasn’t leaving bright and early tomorrow morning. He had loose ends to tie up before the ceremony tonight, Cullen and his sister to face. Confronting any of it would be impossible without the assurance that he’d have Kenna on the other side. His hands shook at the very possibility that he might not. That she’d wake up and throw her barriers back up, blocking him out.
Beck heard Kenna shift behind him and turned. Ah, Jesus. He hadn’t been prepared for the sight of her smiling in the sunshine with bedhead, lips puffy from kissing. Beck’s heart started to boom just looking at her. She appeared to still be half asleep as she turned onto her back, stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “You were telling me about community peach-picking day.” Her voice came out sounding scratchy. “Why did you stop?”
Not touching her felt unnatural, so he reached across the bed and ran his fingers over her hip. “That was hours ago, darlin’. It’s morning now.”
“Oh.” One eye popped open, followed by the other. “Oh.”
At her guarded tone, his mouth set itself in a grim line, hand dropping away from her warm skin. “You want to talk before or after breakfast?”
“There’s a talk. I knew there’d be a talk.” She sat up, propping herself against the headboard. “You don’t waste any time.”