Sugar Rush

by Sawyer Bennett

  I stretch against his hold, testing my muscles.

  Yeah...I'm sore, and it makes me smile. "Fantastic. You?"

  "Best sleep in a long time."

  I shift slightly in his arms, which loosen to let me snuggle deeper in his embrace. He pushes a leg between mine, his arms holding tighter once again. Smiling, I murmur, "Last night was--"

  "Incredible," he finishes.

  So freaking incredible.

  When we got back to the condo from his parents' party, we went at each other like starved animals. A quick raid of the refrigerator revealed quickly enough there was no whipped cream to be had. That didn't dissuade Beck, who tried to pull me to the tiled kitchen floor, but I pushed him off.

  "I think there was some talk about toys," I told him. Then I kissed him and bit his lower lip.

  He groaned and pushed me away, pointing to the hallway. "Go pick out what you want to play with. Meet me in front of the Christmas tree."

  And I knew exactly what I wanted to play with. I knew that the time was right.

  When I came back into the living room, I found Beck taking his shirt off while standing in front of the tree. He'd turned all the lights off except for the ones on the tree, and it cast a warm glow across his beautiful body. My mouth went instantly dry and I walked toward him almost in a trance.

  When I was no more than two feet from him, I held my hand out and said, "Here. I want to play with this toy."

  His gaze dropped to my open palm and his eyebrows raised as he stared at the small glass butt plug and small bottle of lube I was holding. It had been in his bag of toys he'd unceremoniously dumped on the bed beside me a few weeks ago and told me to choose. Back then, I would have never chosen the plug, because when you've experienced the pain and degradation of anal rape, it becomes forbidden territory.

  But last night...I wasn't scared. Or apprehensive. Or even remotely uneasy about the prospect. Instead, I had an overwhelming need to let Beck take possession of a part of my body that never really belonged to me. It belonged to one of my unknown rapists, and I realized that it was the only part of me left that was still metaphorically unhealed since I met Beck.

  He, of course, wasn't as keen on the idea.

  He reacted badly, actually. Backed away from me and shook his head. "No, Sela."

  "Yes," I insisted. "I want you to."

  He opened his mouth to protest. I know it was because he was afraid of hurting me or maybe dredging up terrible memories, but I merely stepped up to him, pushed the objects into his hand, and said, "I trust you."

  Beck's face crumbled and his eyes softened, and he took the items from me. He then gave me the most gentle kiss I've ever experienced, and then he proceeded to show me how caring a man can be to a woman.

  Thinking about what he did to me...my body.

  The intense orgasm he wrung out of me while showing me just how pleasing that kind of play can be to a woman.

  Beck North claimed that last part of my body as his own with soft words, gentle touches, and a little glass toy that felt as unbelievably good as it felt naughty.

  "Want your Christmas present?" he asks as he rubs his stubbled chin over my shoulder, producing a full body shiver.

  Hmmmm...just thinking about last night. "If it involves you fucking me right now, in this position, then yes...I want it very much."

  I feel the rumble of laughter in Beck's chest, even as I feel him start to get hard behind me. "That was not the present I was talking about, but I think I can oblige."

  And then he does.

  His hand slides down from my stomach, right between my legs, where his magical fingers find me wet. They work skillfully, causing my hips to grind back against him, always seeking more with this man.

  Knowing he'll give me exactly what I need.

  Then he's pushing my outer leg up, sliding his own body down just a bit, and angling his cock to slip into me from behind. I moan in pure bliss as he fills me up, body and soul.

  Beck fucks me slowly as he's spooned around me, the arm that my head is resting on coming up to curve across my chest and hold me tightly. His other hand gripping the back of my thigh firmly to pin me in place. I'm restrained by his strength and the feelings he's causing within me, content to let him leisurely make Christmas morning love to me that is oh so different from the kinky shit we did last night.

  He takes me higher and higher, whispering sweet words in my ear, until I fall apart in his arms. He splinters at the same time, groaning deeply his appreciation of the moment that we share.

  When the last tremors of our twin orgasms fade, and he drops my leg back down into place, he hugs me tightly, and I have never felt more complete and secure as I do now. Not because of what we just shared, but because my core essence as a human being finally recognizes with complete clarity its other half.

  "I think I've fallen in love," I whisper to the sunshine now pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It seems safer releasing that revelation indirectly, but I can't prevent the words from coming out.

  "I hope it's with me," Beck whispers back.

  Smiling, I nod my head. "Yeah...it's with you."

  His arms tighten around me more, nearly to the point of cutting off my breath. I don't care though, because his words fill me with life. "That's fortuitous...because I love you too."

  --

  I look at Beck carefully, to see if something about him has changed in the last twenty minutes since we just shared the L-word with each other. It was unplanned...unscripted and totally unbelievable.

  I mean...did that just happen?

  After a little cuddling, we both cleaned up and dressed in sweatpants and T-shirts. I look at Beck now, with his hair sticking up all over the place and sexy stubble on his jaw and chin, reaching under the tree to pull out the two wrapped presents.

  A small box from him is wrapped in silver with a green bow. It looks like a jewelry box and my heartbeat is tripping at the thought.

  My gift to him is larger in a flat box about twenty inches square. It's wrapped in rustic brown paper with an old-fashioned Christmas tree design and tied in thin red ribbon that I curled on the ends.

  I sit on the couch after setting down my tea and Beck's coffee. He joins me as I cross my legs underneath me, setting the small gift in my hands. Then he sits beside me, kicking his long legs out to rest his feet on the coffee table, resting my gift to him on his lap.

  "You first," I say as I nod down at the present he's holding.

  "Okay," he responds with a boyish grin, and starts pulling hard on the ribbon. It immediately stretches enough that he can work it free of the corners, and his fingers are tearing into the paper. The brown packing box underneath is nondescript and he glances at me briefly with curiosity. I just smile back and watch as he pulls at the tape securing one end of the box.

  Then he's reaching inside and pulling out the picture collage frame that I bought earlier in the week while he was at work. It has a black finish and glass-framed cutouts that provide room for five four-by-six pictures, and it will match the decor of either his home office or the one at Townsend-North.

  Turning it over in his hands, his lips curve upward as he studies the photos I'd chosen. Five of us together over the last few weeks. Three of them from Vienna that we had asked locals to take of us. One at an outdoor cafe where we were bundled in coats, hats, and scarves as we drank Viennese coffee by the Danube. One outside the State Opera House before we went inside, dressed elegantly and Beck's arm around my waist. And one a selfie we'd taken while we waited at the airport for our return flight home. The other two were taken here in San Francisco. One by Caroline at Thanksgiving dinner, when Beck pulled me up from the table and onto his lap after we'd finished eating. He's grinning at the camera and I'm looking slightly embarrassed by his display of affection in front of his sister, but I love this photo because it shows hope in my eyes.

  The last photo is a surprise to Beck. He's never seen it before, but I took it lying in his bed one morning whi
le he was still asleep. He was on his back, his face looking so peaceful that I couldn't resist grabbing my iPhone and snuggling in close to him. With my face tilted upward, I placed my lips against his jaw and gave him a soft kiss while he slept.

  The picture is magical in my opinion, because it shows not only how beautiful Beck is, but how much I adore him, even when he's not aware of it.

  "Sela," he says, his voice a little rough. His fingers brush over the picture of us in bed before looking over at me. "This is amazing. I love it."

  Shrugging with my cheeks feeling a little hot, I said, "I thought you could hang it up in one of your offices or something."

  "The one at Townsend-North," he says. "As that's where I spend most of my time. That way I can see it more often there."

  Pushing the box and wrapping paper off his lap onto the couch beside him, he places the frame on top of it and turns to me. One hand curls around my neck in what has now become to me his classic sign of possessiveness, and it makes me completely gooey inside. He pulls me toward him for a kiss. "Thank you. I'm going to have to say, that's even better than the birthday present you gave me."

  I cock an eyebrow at him skeptically.

  "It's true," he insists. "Especially because of that photo of you kissing me while I sleep."

  Warmth spreads through my chest and my heart thumps over the gratitude in his voice. I press my lips to his briefly before I say, "Merry Christmas, Beck."

  "Okay," he says as he pulls away and picks up the small box that was resting on my lap. "Time to open yours."

  I take the present from him and shake it slightly. Something inside rattles and I smile slyly. "Wonder what this is?"

  Truth be told, the fact that something rattled inside throws me off a bit. I assumed it was jewelry, but whatever is inside is loose and has some substance to it.

  "Only one way to find out," he chuckles. "Open it."

  My fingers pull at the paper. I'm not one who opens gifts delicately, preferring to tear into them. There's a small white box inside, and when I pull off the top, I gasp in surprise.

  Reaching in, I hesitantly pull out what is clearly a car key fob with a Mercedes symbol on it. My thumb rubs the raised silver emblem for just a second before I turn to Beck and say dumbly, "You got me a car?"

  He nods enthusiastically. "A GLK350. It's a crossover. Smaller than their other SUVs but very safe. Completely sporty. It's in the garage. Want to go see it?"

  "I got you photographs," I say with a thick tongue as my face turns back to the key fob in my hand. "You got me a car."

  "Oh no you fucking don't," Beck says as his hand comes to my chin. He grips it and turns me to look at him. "You do not compare the cost of our gifts with each other."

  My eyes narrow at him slightly. "You got me a freakin' car, Beck."

  "So what? I'm rich," he says calmly.

  "I don't need a car," I point out. "I take public transit."

  "You can visit your dad more often now," he counters.

  "It's a freakin' car--"

  "Do you love me?" he butts in.

  "Yes," I say, blinking over the change in subject.

  "Then do me a favor and graciously accept my gift. And get fucking used to it. I'm going to buy you nice things."

  My mouth falls open. I think briefly about continuing to argue, but then I take in the serious look in his eyes that's part exasperation but mostly devotion to me sprinkled with a little bit of excitement to show his care for me in this way.

  All of the anger and embarrassment over my paltry gift evaporates and I smile sheepishly as I toss the box and key to the coffee table, and then crawl onto his lap. Looping my arms around his neck, I press a kiss to his stubbled cheek and then pull back to look into his eyes. "Thank you. It's an amazingly extravagant gift, and I'm sorry for my reaction. This will take a little bit of getting used to."

  "I intend to spoil you, Sela," he murmurs. "I want to give you the world."

  Smiling, I turn my body, pull my arms from around his neck, and curl into him. Resting my head on his shoulder and my palm over his heart, I say, "All I ever wanted was a quiet life. I always thought I'd be alone because of what happened to me. I never thought there was room in my life for anything other than my anger and misery. But now that's all changed. You've already given me the world."

  His lips press onto the top of my head and his arms wrap around me. "Paint a picture for me. What does your world look like with me in it? Tell me where we'll be in, say, a year from now."

  "Hmm," I hum low in my throat as I consider his question. "In a small house that sits by the ocean. Maybe a fixer-upper with old linoleum floors we'll want to rip out but they're so charming we leave in, and whitewashed cabinets. We'll have a dog, maybe two, that we can take for walks on the beach. I'll work as a counselor and you'll do programming magic, and when we come home from work, we'll fix dinner together."

  "Sounds nice," he says in a low voice as one of his hands strokes my arm.

  "And we'll fuck every night, and twice a day on the weekends. We'll listen to bands in dive bars or we'll try out various coffee shops in search of the perfect Viennese cup. Oh, and we'll develop some type of hobby...like maybe collecting antiques or something. You know, so we don't get so wrapped up in sex that we never leave the house for very long."

  Beck chuckles and squeezes me tight, but then he turns serious. "Do you want kids?"

  "I don't know," I answer quickly and honestly, but it's a thought that has plagued me before. "I mean...I never thought I'd have a real relationship before, or that I'd even be living with someone and discussing a beach house and dogs. But yeah...I like kids. I think I'd be a good mom. I had a great role model, after all."

  "Well, I had a crappy role model for a mother," Beck says, not in a bitter way, but more reflective.

  "You'd make an amazing father," I say softly. "You're so good with Ally."

  "Yeah," he says softly. "I think I would too."

  We both fall silent, maybe unsure of what to say after that revelation. I mean, not an hour ago we were declaring our love for the first time, and now we're discussing houses and children. It's too fast and it's overwhelming, and yet it's also a little bit right too. I know this because the ensuing silence as we contemplate this isn't awkward at all.

  "So, when this is all over with JT, next on our agenda is to find a small house on a beach somewhere?"

  I giggle. "With peeling linoleum floors."

  "Got it," Beck says.

  Suddenly, I sit up and turn in his lap to look at him, reality seeping back in to our discussion of happily-ever-after dreams. "What if this doesn't work? So many things could go wrong. VanZant may not take the offer, then we'd depend on fate for him to lose. Or he could go to the police and tell him about the bribery--"

  "We're shielded from that," Beck reminds me quickly. "Dennis said there won't be any ties to us. It's why we're paying him so much."

  I disregard those assurances, because here's the really big "if." "We still have to depend on JT coming to you for the money."

  "Well, he can only go to me or my dad," Beck points out. He relayed to me the entire conversation he had with his dad on the drive home last night, and it does seem his dad is on board with us. "JT doesn't have any other close friends with this type of liquid cash to help him out and no bank will loan him money to pay off a debt. Dennis assured me the collection deadline will be short so he'll be under pressure to act fast."

  "Maybe JT won't agree to give up the company for your loan," I offer, even though we've hashed this all out before. "Maybe he'll opt for a beating. Or take his chances elsewhere. Or even negotiate an extension."

  "Then worst-case scenario, he's still part of the company when we go to the police," Beck says firmly. I know he's frustrated over my continued worries, but he's also very patient with me.

  "It will kill The Sugar Bowl." The bitterness is evident in my voice. "It could ruin you. Maybe we shouldn't even do this at all."

  "What?" Beck ex
claims, his eyebrows rising high. "You want me to just stay with JT as a partner and pretend none of this happened?"

  "No," I say sullenly, my gaze dropping from his. I twist my fingers together and mutter. "I know you could never do that."

  "Sela," Beck says softly, his fingers tilting my chin up. When my eyes lock on his, he gives me a knowing smile. "I'm not going to lie...I've got a lot tied up in this business. I'm proud of it. It's lucrative. But it is not my only idea. My entire self-worth isn't dependent on it. My financial stability most certainly isn't, as I've invested well and I could buy us houses on multiple beaches and we'd never have to work again a day in our lives. Worst fucking case, I can't get JT out and the police won't compel him for DNA and he stays free. If that happens, then we'll move to a faraway beach and start all over again."

  Tears suddenly fill my eyes as quickly as the blossoming love in my heart starts to overwhelm me. This man...that he would do that for me?

  Beck tilts his head to the side, his smile turning softer, and he wipes a stray tear that runs down my cheek. "I fell hard for you, Sela. I'm committed to you and our future."

  "So this is love?" I whisper hoarsely as I stare into his beautiful eyes.

  "I do believe it is," he tells me with a grin. "Now...would you like to go see your new car, Miss Halstead?"

  I can't help it. His attitude is infectious, and I grin back at him before backing off his lap and dropping to my knees before him. Placing one palm on each knee, I nudge his legs apart. "Why Mr. North, I would love to, but first I really would love to suck your cock."

  "Christ," Beck mutters as his head drops back onto the cushion of the couch and he sighs with happiness. "If you must."

  "Oh, I must."

  "I'm really sorry JT couldn't make this meeting," I say as I shake hands first with Michael Gruber, then with Vincent Carmon, the two owners of ET Technologies.

  "No problem," Vincent responds with an affable smile. He's the younger of the two entrepreneurs, having recently turned twenty-two. Michael's not much older at twenty-three.

  "We really wanted your eyes on this project anyway," Michael adds. "We just don't have your programming skills."

  It's true enough. They would need me on this project, and I'm very much interested. ET Technologies was founded by Michael and Vincent, college buddies who dreamed up the potential to analyze facial expressions of consumers reacting to certain products. The "ET" part of their name actually stands for eye twitch, a comical play on a common facial expression to indicate unease.