“Um.” She gripped his shoulder. “I…”
“Want me to stop?”
“No! Absolutely not.” Sawyer threaded her fingers through his hair. “Just seems I’m the one getting all the attention. Let me repay the favor.”
Beck looked into her eyes and realized she didn’t understand. He kissed the inside of her knee before he explained.
“Believe me, I’m having the time of my life.”
“Really?”
“Lie back and let me show you.”
Sawyer bit her lip, a twinkle in her hazel eyes.
“If you insist.”
Beck was a man who believed in doing things right the first time. However, he wasn’t averse to fine-tuning a project. He quickly discovered the joys of pleasing Sawyer again and again. Hearing her call out his name not once, or twice, but three times was music to his ears.
“You completed a trifecta,” she sighed, her body limp. But she had enough energy to smile from ear to ear. “What are the odds?
“Even money.” He shrugged. “But I don’t like to brag.”
“Of course not,” Sawyer said with the kind of satisfied smile he could look at all day.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Beck warned. He rested his weight on his elbows, his body hovering over hers. “Orgasm number four is just around the corner.”
“You won’t hear me argue,” she said, running her foot up and down his thigh. “I’m healthy. Clean of all diseases.”
“Always good to know.”
“Kind of late in the game since you’ve already played with fire. My fault. However, I want you to know, you aren’t in danger.”
“I like playing with your fire,” Beck snorted at his own joke. Sawyer, so damn earnest, didn’t laugh. “I already knew.”
“How?”
“I’m the only man you’ve been with since your husband died, right?”
Sawyer nodded.
“He was your first?”
“Yes.”
“There you go. An STD is hard to catch unless you’re sexually active. Or share a needle.” Beck kissed the crook of her arm. “No tracks.”
“Sexually transmitted diseases and drug use aren’t the sexiest subjects.”
“They are in my book. My goal is to leave a partner satisfied and healthy.”
“Very sexy,” Sawyer agreed. “So, I didn’t kill the mood?”
Beck moved her hand to his hard-as-granite penis.
“Guess not,” she sighed. “Very nice. Very nice, indeed.”
“Careful,” Beck warned. “I want to come in you, not on you.”
“Bad joke.”
“I wasn’t kidding.” Beck was on the edge, and Sawyer’s touch didn’t help. “My doctor gave me a clean bill of health at my last physical.”
“So, there’s nothing we can give each other except a good time?”
“Not quite true.” Beck reached into the bedside drawer. “Are you on the pill?”
“No.”
“Then I could give you something else. Unless we use a condom. A baby.”
“Oh, crap.” Sawyer shook her head. “No, thanks. Maybe another time.”
The idea of Sawyer giving birth to his child wasn’t the worse thing he could imagine. However, he agreed. They weren’t ready. What they had, still to be defined beyond a marriage that had become very convenient indeed, was too new. They had to figure out each other before they considered bringing another human being into the loop.
However, the fact she said maybe gave him hope for their future beyond one night of passion. The day might come, far down the road, when they agreed the time was right to start a family. But not now.
Beck rolled on the condom as Sawyer watched with interest.
“Think you’d like to suit me up next time?”
“With your guiding hand? Yes.” She nodded. “I wouldn’t want to make a mistake.”
“I plan to have sex with you many, many times. As often as possible. Before we’re done, you’ll be an expert condom roller.”
Sawyer settled under him, wrapping her legs around his hips.
“I like the sound of many, many. If we want a next time, should we finish this time.”
When Beck hesitated, Sawyer frowned.
“Something wrong?”
“Now’s the moment in my dream when I always wake up.”
“I told you,” she laughed. “You aren’t asleep.”
No, Beck thought as he slowly joined his body with hers, their eyes locked, air caught in their throats as though taking a breath might break the spell. He wasn’t sleeping. He was wide awake and determined to enjoy every second.
No more cold showers for him or agonizing sleepless nights. She was finally with him for real. Turned out loving Sawyer was a dream come true.
~ ~ ~
“TELL ME WHERE you were going,” Beck demanded.
“No!”
“Tell me.”
Sawyer was trapped, her legs pinned down by Beck’s, her arms held above her head by one of his hands, his other poised near her ribs.
Beck outweighed her by close to eighty pounds and if challenged, he could bench press her body over his head without breaking a sweat. She was his to do with as he wanted.
Currently, he wanted the truth and if Sawyer didn’t provide the proper answer, her punishment would be a round of ruthless tickling.
If only Sawyer had cooperated when he first asked, they could be engaged in a more enjoyable pastime. Instead, she showed her willingness to play dirty—the impromptu blowjob she used as a distraction was a perfect example.
He enjoyed every second of her ministrations and if her Cheshire Cat grin as she finished were any indication, so did she. But in the end, as fabulous as the experience was, her tactics only worked for a little while.
He hadn’t forgotten, and she still wasn’t talking.
Problem was, Sawyer didn’t see herself as helpless. He admired her fight to the death mentality and normally, he’d stand by her side without a second thought, taking down the bad guys until they were the last woman and man standing.
But he wasn’t the enemy, and fighting wasn’t an option.
Beck was her husband of three months, her lover of three hours, and a man who would cut out his own heart before causing her a second of pain. A fact Sawyer knew only too well.
“Ready to give up?”
“Never.”
“Never is a long time, my naked beauty.”
Beck snorted. They sounded like something from a bad movie. He raked his gaze over Sawyer’s luscious curves. Or, a superior porn flick.
“Do your worst,” she challenged. “I’ll never talk.”
The heated glint in her eyes, both sexy and laughing, told him Sawyer wasn’t worried about his superior strength and size.
Beck realized his mistake. She was having too much fun. He needed to show Sawyer he meant business.
“Last chance. When you drove away from the house earlier this evening, where were you going? Why did you come back?” Beck asked. “And you need a new muffler.”
“The noisy muffler. I should have known you’d hear me,” she sighed. “Started acting up yesterday on the way home.”
“Where were you headed?”
Sawyer shrugged, her grin cocky, as though her mystery destination wasn’t the only secret she kept from him.
“Fine. Just remember, you could have stopped me with a few words. The massacre to come is on your head.”
Beck straddled her waist, a move she seemed to enjoy, damn her. Keeping her arms pinned, he gave the skin covering her ribs a gentle caress; his version of the calm before the storm. Then, with ruthless determination, began Operation: Tickle the Truth from Sawyer.
First her waist. Nothing. She didn’t so much as flinch. Frowning, Beck moved higher, applying more pressure. Still, she didn’t react beyond a mocking, is that the best you can do, smirk.
; “You’re not ticklish,” Beck said after several more futile attempts.
“Nope.
Beck glanced over his shoulder, mentally checking off his options. He could hold onto her wrists, tug her into a sitting position and easily reach her feet.
“Won’t do you any good,” she said, reading him like a book. “I was born with an immunity to tickling. One of my lesser-known, seldom-used superpowers.”
“I could withhold sex.”
“You could,” she agreed. “But I still wouldn’t talk. Besides, who would suffer more? Me or you?”
“Me.” With a resigned sigh, Beck flopped onto his back.
“The correct answer is, we’d suffer equally.”
Sawyer’s admission made Beck feel a little better. When she lay on top of him, her breasts pressed against his chest, her face inches from his, he felt freaking fantastic.
“I was on my way to Talia’s.” Sawyer smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “Since our wedding, after I moved in with you, I go several times a week.”
“What?” Beck’s fingers tightened on her waist. He took a deep breath and relaxed his hold. “Why?”
“I couldn’t sleep. And if I did my baking here, you were bound to ask questions.”
Damn straight he would. A few popped to mind immediately.
“Was I the reason?”
Twisting a lock of his hair around her finger, Sawyer nodded.
“You lost sleep because you wanted me?” Crazy woman. “All you had to do was ask.”
“How could I after the stupid addendum I had my lawyer include in our post-nuptial agreement?”
“Stupid doesn’t do the thing justice.”
Annoyance flashed across her face.
“No one made you sign.” She closed her eyes. When they opened, all he saw was regret. “I had hoped you wouldn’t.”
“The document was a test?” Now, Beck was annoyed. “To what purpose?”
“Getting married was my idea. If not for the alcohol, you would have said no. You already sacrificed yourself to help me out. Adding sex to the mix seemed like another layer of selfishness.”
For an intelligent woman, Sawyer’s reasoning was the most illogical, convoluted piece of crap thinking he’d ever heard. If she weren’t sprawled on top of him—exactly where he wanted her—Beck would have hit his head against the wall in frustration.
“Selfish was denying us this.” He pounded the mattress with a clenched fist. “You in my bed. Could have been our bed all along. Instead, you take your baking to another house, and I run up our water bill jacking off in the shower on a nightly basis.”
“Nightly?”
“Close enough.”
“I’m sorry.” Sawyer peppered kisses across his chest, his neck, ending with a kiss on his mouth guaranteed to set the sheets on fire. “You should have said something.”
Breathe, Beck told himself. Sawyer was finally his, body if not soul. He didn’t want to mess things up by losing his temper.
“Just friends. Remember? Your rules, and I agreed because…”
“Because?”
Beck slid his hand behind Sawyer’s neck. The kiss was heated, but he added something more—his heart. Whether she wanted to understand was up to her.
“Not having you in my life wasn’t worth thinking about.” He kissed her again. “I can be your friend, Sawyer. I can be your lover. Even your husband. I want to be a combination of the three. If you’ll let me.”
“You’re sure?”
Beck rolled his eyes and chuckled.
“Jesus, woman. How much more proof do you need?”
“May I move in here? With you? Warning, I have a lot of clothes and many, many shoes.”
Rather than jump at the chance to hold Sawyer in his arms all night, every night, Beck shrugged, doing his best to play it cool. He had the feeling he failed, miserably. He didn’t give a damn.
“I’ll tear out the wall, expand into the bedroom next door, and build you a walk-in closet.”
“All for me? Sounds like a plan.”
Beck wondered which excited Sawyer more. Sharing his bed, or a huge, custom-built closet. Sawyer snugged close, giving him his answer.
She was right. They had a plan. Fragile, as all relationships were to start. But with a good foundation and endless potential.
Beck didn’t know if Sawyer would find room in her heart for him; he was afraid to ask for fear the answer would be no. For now, he would take what she could give and hope for more.
The secret, he was certain, was taking care not to get ahead of themselves or take each other and what they had for granted. If they worked together, lived together, someday loved together, nothing was out of bounds.
Their drunken marriage of convenience might just turn into the best mistake they ever made.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
♫~♫~♫
SAWYER RUSHED TO dress and get downstairs before Beck left for work. Soon, all her things would be in his room, but for now, until they made the move, she used her bathroom on the second floor.
The way Beck talked as she fell asleep in his arms, now that the decision was made, he wouldn’t let the grass grow under his feet. In fact, Sawyer wouldn’t be surprised if her old room was empty when she arrived home for dinner.
Fine with her. She would be happy if the last time she slept in her old bed was the last time, period.
Sawyer fashioned her still-damp hair into a long braid. Gazing into the mirror, she noticed the dark circles under her eyes had magically faded to barely there. She looked closer. Her skin was clear, as was her mind. The fog had lifted.
What a difference one night with Beck made to her complexion and outlook. He’d reached for her over and over. When she made the first move, he was ready for whatever her imagination could conjure up.
The heck with sleep. All she needed to put a bounce in her step and roses in her cheeks was more Beck.
Sawyer ran down the stairs, stopping midway to tie her shoelace. She was in a hurry, but rushing wouldn’t help if she fell and broke something. Accidents happened. However, there was no reason to tempt disaster.
Now that the ice between her and Beck was broken, melted, and turned into steam, she planned to avoid anything that might keep her from a repeat of last night.
The rumble of male voices coming from the kitchen was all Sawyer needed to pick up her pace. About to enter the room, she heard Beck mention Camille’s name and froze in her tracks.
“Camille Hale is relentless.”
“From all accounts, the second Sawyer married David Hale, she became enemy number one, top of Camille’s shit list.”
Tilly. Sawyer frowned. He was always so carefree and funny. She knew he was ex-military. But until now, she hadn’t given his prior occupation a lot of thought. The icy edge to his voice surprised her—and sent a shiver up her spine.
Certain she was out of sight, she leaned closer, determined not to miss a word.
“If not for Sawyer, I could almost admire the woman’s tunnel vision.”
“Almost?” Tilly asked.
“Camille’s reign of terror didn’t start when David Hale married without her approval,” Beck said. “She’s the definition of a coldhearted bitch, and you can bet she’s left a trail of victims crushed beneath her designer heels.”
“So far, she’s been a nuisance. More important, other than enlisting Sawyer’s mother to plead her case, she’s left Sawyer alone.” Beck paused. “Bianca. What last name does she go by now?”
“Monterey. She traveled to Mexico for a quickie divorce from husband number eight and came back with number nine. The guy’s a European prince in exile, or so he claims. And according to Kai’s report, poor as the proverbial church mouse.”
Sawyer heard enough. She was through eavesdropping on a conversation with her at the center. She marched into the kitchen, ignoring Tilly for the moment and went straight for Beck.
�
�Who is Kai? And why didn’t you tell me Camille’s been up to her old tricks?”
“I—”
“When did she start and how much damage was done?”
“About a week after we met,” Beck said. “Nothing a phone call or two couldn’t fix. The reputation of Kramer Construction won’t be tarnished by a few false rumors.”
“You should have told me.”
“You’re angry,” Beck sighed.
“With good reason.”
“I’d hoped the afterglow from last night would last a little longer.”
Sawyer glanced at Tilly and tried not to blush. He took care of the house and was bound to discover the change in her and Beck’s relationship. Heck if she didn’t think twice when he washed her underwear, a little thing like discovering she spent the night with her husband shouldn’t matter.
“Women are expert multitaskers,” she reminded Beck. “I can glow and be angry all at the same time.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
You can’t shield me from bad things. Fate has a way of dropping chicken manure on you wherever you hide.”
Beck cupped her cheek, and he brushed a kiss across her forehead.
“Talk of Camille makes you sad.”
“I can handle sad.”
“I’ll give you some privacy.”
Tilly dashed for the door, but Sawyer was faster.
“Stop right there, fella. Who is Kai?”
“She’s a computer hacker/security expert/badass. Tilly met her while they were both in the military. Kai’s ex-Army. Oh,” Beck added with a smirk. “Tilly’s carrying a torch.”
“No. I— She—” Tilly crossed his arms. If glares could kill, Beck would be toast. “Just no.”
A disconcerted Tilly, every hunky, tattooed inch of him, was a sight to behold. Sawyer wished she had time to pursue the subject.
“I have many questions about your Kai—another time.”
“She’s not my Kai,” Tilly mumbled as he set about scrubbing an already gleaming sink.
“For now, the subject is Camille. I want to know every rotten trick she’s pulled.”
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