Butterfly Dreams

by A. Meredith Walters

  And when my tongue found the center of her, she cried. She swore. She told me to never stop.

  And I wouldn’t. Not for anything.

  “Beckett. I need—” She didn’t finish because she didn’t have to. I knew that we both needed the same thing.

  I found a condom in the drawer and quickly put it on. She watched me the entire time, heat in her eyes. It made me feel powerful to have her watch me like that.

  Confident.

  Sure.

  When I pushed inside her, I had to stop for a moment. Overcome. It was too much.

  I looked down at Corin and felt an intense pressure in the center of my chest that had nothing to do with a failing heart.

  And everything to do with it finally finding a reason to beat.

  I wanted to tell her that I loved her again.

  But I couldn’t get the words out.

  I couldn’t say anything at all.

  So I loved her silently.

  I loved her completely.

  I loved her with every tiny part of me.

  The words didn’t matter.

  The quiet was so much better.

  Chapter 21

  Corin

  “I know you’re awake.”

  I buried my face in the pillows, not wanting him to see me grinning like a fool. I could feel Beck’s cool fingers on my naked back, tracing the line of my spine.

  His finger was soon replaced with his mouth, the wet tip of his tongue gliding over my skin.

  It had been almost three weeks since my breakdown after dinner with his parents.

  Three weeks since I had exposed all of the ugly, mortifying parts of me.

  He knew my secrets.

  And he loved me anyway.

  He loved me.

  There was nothing wrong with me. Dr. Harrison had said it. Beckett agreed.

  I was still struggling to believe it.

  Particularly when my head and body tried so hard to tell me differently.

  I still had the number for Chris Riley but I hadn’t called. I wasn’t sure if I would. I knew that I probably should. But I hadn’t mustered up the courage yet.

  I wasn’t entirely sure I really needed it. I hadn’t been focused on pain in weeks. My mind, my heart, was wrapped up in Beckett Kingsley.

  I hadn’t had a panic attack in over three weeks. I wasn’t in pain. I wasn’t anxious.

  All because I had found love with an amazing man.

  Maybe he was the only therapy I really needed.

  “Wakey, wakey,” he hummed in my ear, moving my hair to the side and pulling my earlobe with his teeth.

  “I’m sleeping,” I grumbled, making a show of being irritated. But I wasn’t irritated.

  Not in the slightest.

  He rolled me over and started kissing the hollow of my throat, drifting lower and lower.

  I squirmed when he started paying special attention to my overly sensitive breasts, which still sported the stubble burn from his administrations last night.

  Beckett was a bit of a boob guy. He was a little obsessed with them.

  “Mmm,” he moaned against my fevered skin, and I felt it between my legs.

  I stretched my arms above my head, my eyes literally rolling back into my head.

  What this man could do with a tongue and a nipple should be studied by every guy on the planet. There would be a lot of very happy women as a result.

  His fingers crept south, being all sneaky-like. As if I wouldn’t know where he was headed.

  “Whatcha doin’?” I asked lazily, pushing into his hand as he cupped me.

  “What’s it feel like?” he murmured, his mouth still full of boob.

  “It feels naughty,” I teased and then gasped when he pushed a finger inside me. Jesus Christ Almighty!

  He started to work his hand, languidly stroking me, in and out, and I started spewing all sorts of gibberish. I may have started speaking in tongues. One orgasm later and I could barely think straight.

  “I’m not done with you yet,” Beck chastised when I closed my eyes.

  I popped one eye open. “Well, I certainly hope not,” I remarked primly.

  Beckett growled in the back of his throat and kissed me furiously. Within a matter of seconds we were both groaning loudly as he screwed the living daylights out of me.

  And just as we were both about to have the orgasm to end all orgasms, a ball of fluff jumped up on the pillow and lay down.

  “What the—” Beckett looked over at my cat, Mr. Bingley, not breaking his stride.

  “Ignore him,” I moaned, arching my back.

  Mr. Bingley lifted his leg and started grooming himself. Two feet from our heads. And when he was finished, he stared at us, unblinking.

  “Your cat’s a total voyeur, Corin. It’s disturbing,” he panted. Beckett wrapped my legs around his waist, lifting me up and repositioning me on the other side of the bed.

  “I feel him watching us,” Beckett whispered, as if Mr. Bingley could hear him.

  And sure enough, Mr. Bingley was still there. Watching.

  “We have to take this somewhere else, Cor. I can’t fuck you the way I want to knowing he’s sitting there, silently judging,” Beckett bemoaned.

  I chuckled. “He’s a cat, Beck. His thoughts consist of mice and food. I don’t think he’s critiquing your thrusting technique.”

  Beckett pushed deep and I let out a breathy sigh. “Hang on,” he commanded.

  “Should you be doing this? Take it easy,” I gasped, worried about him exerting himself.

  “Don’t you dare tell me to take it easy,” he warned. “Now hold on.”

  I tightened my legs and curled my arms around his neck as Beckett hoisted me up, still buried inside me.

  I felt like a monkey hanging off a tree. “Where the hell are you going?” I asked, giggling.

  Beckett kicked my bedroom door closed and carefully lowered me to the floor in the middle of the hallway.

  “Here? Are you serious?” I laughed.

  “I. Can’t. Wait. I. Need. You. Now.”

  I wasn’t laughing a whole lot after that.

  —

  A little while later we were back in my bed, having kicked Mr. Bingley out into the living room. Something my furry companion hadn’t been too pleased about. I was pretty sure he was out there plotting his feline revenge.

  I was resting my head on Beckett’s chest, listening to the steady thump. He had seemed unnaturally tired after our morning shenanigans on the hallway floor, and I worried that carrying me like that had done something.

  When I asked him how he felt, he slapped my ass and told me he was ready for round two.

  I insisted on resting instead.

  Even though we were happy, happier than I thought I was capable of being, I still fretted.

  I was paranoid.

  I worried about his heart even though I tried not to. Because I was attempting to put my hang-ups aside.

  As hard as that was.

  “When’s your next doctor’s appointment?” I asked him, pressing my palm flat over his heart.

  Beckett grabbed my hand and kissed the palm. “Why are you asking?”

  “Because I want to know,” I explained.

  “Next week. I’m going to have the ICD checked and will have some X-rays as well. I’ll also have my medication evaluated. It’s all pretty routine.”

  I bit down on my lip and tried to smile. I didn’t fool Beckett in the slightest.

  “You don’t need to worry so much about me, Corin. Stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s not going to. You have to trust me. Trust in this.”

  I wanted to. I was trying. But I had been conditioned to always look for the worst.

  My phone dinged from the nightstand.

  I frowned. It was my Saturday off. Adam was at the studio with no parties booked. I couldn’t imagine why he would be calling.

  I leaned over Beckett and grabbed my phone. He took the opportunity to latch onto my boob again. He real
ly was insatiable.

  I read the text message on the screen and let out a frustrated yell.

  Beckett let go of my breast and sat up. “What is it?”

  “My sister. She’s in town. I totally forgot she was supposed to be coming here.”

  Well, that just killed my Saturday.

  “Your sister? The bitch?” Beckett clarified.

  “The one and only,” I confirmed.

  “What’s she doing here? Doesn’t she live up toward D.C.?”

  “Yeah, she does, but she warned me that she was going to be in Richmond for a conference with her husband and they’d be driving out here. They want to sell Mom and Dad’s house. She’s seeing a real estate agent.”

  “And you don’t want to sell it,” Beckett surmised.

  “I’ve been fighting with her about this for a while.” I suddenly felt very tired.

  I pulled away from Beckett, leaning over the side of the bed and picking up my underwear that he had removed from my body the night before.

  “I guess I should get in the shower. She wants to meet out at the house in an hour.”

  My heart seized. She wanted me to meet her at the house.

  I felt the first tendrils of panic unfurl in my belly.

  “You just went white as a sheet, baby. What’s wrong?” Beckett rubbed my back.

  “It’s nothing. I’m being silly,” I said, dismissing it.

  Deep breaths.

  In and out.

  Don’t freak out, Corin.

  Not now.

  Go to your happy place.

  Find your sanctuary.

  My sanctuary was no longer beaches with scantily clad man candy.

  I looked up into Beckett’s worried eyes and I knew that I was already in my happy place.

  I tamped down the panic attack that threatened to explode, the first I had experienced in weeks, and gave him a shaky smile.

  “It’s not nothing. Otherwise you wouldn’t look like you were about to pass out,” Beck argued.

  “I haven’t been back to that house in years. Not since I moved out after Dad died.”

  Beckett took me by the shoulders, holding me firm. “I’ll be there with you. It’ll be okay.”

  I nodded. Because I believed him.

  I trusted him.

  “I love you,” he said softly, and I kissed him.

  It was the only way I could say it back.

  —

  We pulled up in front of the house where I had spent my childhood. I had driven by the house many times over the years but never dared to go inside.

  Until now.

  I could see Tamsin and Jared talking to a woman in an ugly plaid pantsuit. They were walking around the perimeter of the property while pantsuit lady made notes on a clipboard.

  “I can’t believe she’s doing all this without consulting me first,” I hissed.

  Beckett rubbed the back of my neck, trying to calm me down. “She can’t do anything without you agreeing to it. It looks like a standard appraisal, which is a good thing to have anyway. Don’t go over there fists swinging, I have a feeling your sister will be expecting that. Remember people respond a lot more to calm rationale than defensive anger.”

  I leaned over the seat and kissed his cheek. “I’m so lucky to have my very own Master Po.”

  “You will learn the ways of kung fu, grasshopper,” Beckett intoned, and we both snickered at our dorky love of random seventies TV shows.

  I unclipped my seat belt. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

  We got out of the car and walked toward my sister, Jared, and the badly dressed real estate agent. They looked up as we approached and I noted the look of shock on Tamsin’s face at the sight of Beckett.

  I realized I had never told her about him.

  And she was definitely not used to my being with a man. They never stuck around long enough for a second date, let alone meeting my witchy sister.

  “Hi, Corin. Nice to see you,” Tamsin said, stepping forward to give me a stiff hug.

  “You too,” I lied. Jared came over to give me a hug as well, but I might as well be embracing cardboard.

  I backed away from both of them and inclined my head in Beck’s direction. “This is my boyfriend, Beckett Kingsley. Beckett, this is my sister Tamsin and her husband Jared,” I introduced.

  Tamsin’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline. “Boyfriend? Since when?”

  Beckett held out his hand, which my sister shook. Followed by Jared.

  “For a while now,” I answered vaguely.

  “And you never told me?” Tamsin asked, and if I didn’t know her better, I would have thought that she looked almost hurt.

  “Why would I have told you?” I asked pointedly.

  Someone cleared their throat and we all turned to the woman in the poo-colored plaid.

  “Corin, this is Ellis Montgomery. She’s a broker with Blue Mountain Realty. We were just looking around the property so she could start her appraisal. The renters are gone this weekend but I let them know we’d be coming by.”

  “Hello,” Ellis the agent said, holding out her hand for both Beckett and me to shake.

  She looked down at her clipboard. “So, the house was built in 1975. It sits on a half an acre in a desirable part of town. It’s within close proximity to shops and schools. I see there are two outbuildings for storage.”

  Ellis droned on, talking about all the particulars of the property. I barely listened. It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t sell.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes at my sister, who was listening to Ellis. Jared wasn’t paying attention, too busy reading his email on his phone.

  “Chill out, Cor,” Beckett whispered in my ear.

  “I am chill,” I whispered back.

  “Then why can I hear you grinding your teeth from here?” he asked, giving me a look.

  I relaxed my jaw and dropped my arms to my side. Being combative would only piss Tamsin off and then I’d get nowhere.

  “Are you ready to go inside?” Ellis asked, and Tamsin pulled out a key, leading her up the small front porch to the door.

  Jared and Beckett followed her but I hung back.

  I hadn’t been inside in years.

  I wasn’t sure I could go in now.

  Beckett looked back to see that I was still on the lawn.

  “Corin—” he began, but my sister cut him off.

  “Would you mind going in with Jared and Ellis? We’ll be inside in a minute,” she said, handing him the house key.

  Beckett looked conflicted. I knew he didn’t want to leave me alone to deal with Tamsin. But I also knew my sister’s statement brooked no argument.

  “Okay, as long as Corin’s all right.” Beckett frowned, looking to me for confirmation.

  I nodded and Tamsin patted him on the arm. “She’s a big girl, Beckett.”

  After Beckett, Jared, and Ellis went into the house, Tamsin came to join me in the yard.

  “This is your first time back here, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Mine too. It’s strange, isn’t it?” Tamsin stared up at the house, her hands tucked into the pockets of her pale gray trousers. Was she trying to make conversation?

  What was her angle?

  “You don’t want to go inside?”

  “I don’t know,” I told her, not giving her much.

  Tamsin scratched the side of her neck, an anxious gesture I recognized from when we were younger.

  I hadn’t seen my sister in a while. Over a year at least. She had lost some weight since then. She had a few extra wrinkles and her eyes looked tired. But she was still pretty. She and I looked a lot alike. We had the same brown hair and dark brown eyes. We both sported the same dimple in our chins. But for all our physical similarities, we couldn’t be more different.

  “I never wanted to come here again,” Tamsin said after a beat.

  “Yeah, I got that impression when you would never come home to visit,”
I snapped. I hadn’t meant to be so short with her but she brought out the bitch in me. It must be catching.

  “Mom and Dad were great parents. They really were. I loved them so much. But I couldn’t watch them die. So I stayed away. I’m not saying it was the right thing to do. But I was still a kid too, Cor.”

  I shook my head. Her excuses were just that—excuses.

  We had never really talked about when Mom and Dad were sick. Tamsin seemed to relocate that to the back of her head where you put your most embarrassing memories and random football stats.

  It felt strange to be discussing this now.

  But it was a long time coming.

  Too long.

  “I was a kid too,” I spat out.

  Tamsin sighed and turned to look at me. “Yeah, I know. And I was a selfish jerk. I left you to deal with all that on your own. And I wasn’t exactly understanding after Dad died. We cope in different ways. You think you’re dying all the time, and I become super bitch and throw myself into school or my job, avoiding the hard stuff. Neither is healthy.”

  “Yeah, so we’re both fucked up. I still don’t see what that has to do with selling the house. Why are you so hell-bent on getting rid of it? Don’t you want to hang onto that last connection to Mom and Dad?” I asked her, my anger still simmering away.

  “No, I don’t,” she answered shortly, striking me speechless.

  “You don’t?” I asked, aghast.

  “I don’t need a pile of bricks to hang onto Mom and Dad. And neither do you. If anything, I think this place holds us back. It ties us to a time we shouldn’t want to go back to.”

  “It wasn’t all bad here,” I protested.

  “You’re right. It wasn’t. But at some point those good memories were drowned out by the bad ones. I can’t look up at that green siding and yellow door and think of anything but the fact that our parents died in there.” Tamsin wiped her eyes. I hadn’t noticed that she had started to cry. Maybe she wasn’t completely unfeeling.

  That small show of genuine emotion softened me, just the slightest, toward my sister.

  Her words hit me hard. Mostly because it was exactly how I felt about the house I had lived in. I just had no idea she felt the same way.

  “But there were good times, Tam. Lots of them,” I continued to argue. It seemed more for the sake of arguing though rather than with real conviction.