by Ember Davis
“I thought that maybe it was just your art that spoke to me so deeply, but now I know that’s not true.” I bring a hand up and I press my palm against his heart, feeling it beat beneath it. “It’s you that speaks to my soul, not just your art. So, to see this print here, now, I know I’m right where I’m supposed to be. That you’re home.” I arch my eyebrow, “I’m not ready to say the word quite yet, but it’s right on the tip of my tongue.”
Beckett kisses my lips softly and sweetly and then wraps me up in his arms and holds me tight; I wrap my arms around him and breathe him in. He kisses the top of my head and I can feel him gazing at the Dali print behind me. He sways me gently and I close my eyes and let myself relax against him.
He shifts and buries his face in the crook of my neck and takes a deep breath. His voice is hoarse and thick with emotion, “A big part of me wants to round up the guys and go find that low life piece of shit. I can barely decide what I’m madder about, that he hit you or that he cut you down. You’re so fucking beautiful, Amelia, inside and out. I hate that you have ever had a moment of doubt about how amazing you are or how bright your light shines. I knew the moment I saw you that you’re what I’ve been missing my entire life.” He squeezes me a little tighter and whispers, “Thank you for trusting me and telling me.”
He leans back slightly so that he can look into my eyes. “I will never do that to you.” I can see him pleading me with his eyes to believe him. “I will never cut you down, I only want to see you soar and be lucky enough to witness it and join you.” He kisses my shoulder. “I will never lay my hands on you with violent intent.”
I take a deep breath, “I know, Love. I learned a valuable lesson going through that and then searching for myself again. I learned that the things and people that speak to my soul will never hurt me; I just have to be brave enough to listen. It’s what brought me to Colorado in the first place.”
Beckett grips my ass and picks me up; I wrap my legs around him and snuggle against his warm, bare chest. He rasps, “Come on, Baby. I’m going to show you just how beautiful and special you are.”
I sigh against him and kiss his neck; he takes me into the bedroom and follows through with his promise.
CHAPTER 10
BECKETT
It’s been almost two weeks since Dex’s BBQ, but instead of being days filled with angst and worry, these last weeks have been full of love. Well, love and fucking because I cannot keep my hands to myself or my dick out of Amelia. Every time I get her naked is better than the last.
I don’t even have to get her naked for it to get better and better considering the way she sucked my cock yesterday in the back room of my shop. I would have fucked her on that table too, but Troy started complaining about my groaning from the other side of the door and I don’t want anyone but me to hear her moans when she’s begging for my cock or her screams of pleasure. Which reminds me that I need to look into soundproofing the back room. Fuck, just thinking about her turns me the fuck on.
Waking up with Amelia in my arms has been the best. We’ve slept at her place a few times, but I prefer her in our house and in our bed and she doesn’t seem to mind in the least. I could tell when I gave her that tour the first night that she fell in love with our home. I hadn’t put it together for anyone other than myself but seeing her there made it clear to me that I was making it for us the whole time. I just didn’t realize it.
Fuck, when she admitted that she could see herself cooking dinner, making cookies and our kids blowing out their birthday candles in our kitchen? I fell even harder for her. She was a vision of pure sex with my shirt on, it barely covering her ass, as she took in our home for the first time. My heart broke for her and I was filled with a rage I’ve never felt before when she told me about her ex and how important The Hallucinogenic Toreador has been in her life.
She’s promised me that when we go down and visit her family that we’ll go to the museum and sit in front of it together. I hope we can do that soon, maybe for the holidays this year because that would be the perfect place for me to propose to her. Yeah, I’m already thinking about it. In fact, I may have ordered a ring already.
Damn, she’ll love it; partially because I designed it myself. She’s too special for just a diamond, so I designed a heart infinity symbol on top with the hearts being filled in with two black opals surrounded by diamonds. While I’ve never been a jewelry guy, I saw a wedding band that’s inlaid with black opal that I can’t wait to wear to match her engagement ring. Considering the Dali print that sealed the deal for her knowing she was at home with me, colorful black opals are perfect for us.
One of my favorite memories of these last few weeks, and it’s fucking hard as hell to choose, happened the day after Dex’s BBQ. I had an appointment that was going to keep me in the shop after she got off work, so we made plans for me to call her when I got done. Instead, because my girl is fucking amazing, I walked into the reception space after finishing up my appointment to see Amelia curled up on the couch with yarn running through her fingers making a blue beanie with a forest green one sitting next to her ready for Walsh.
That night I walked out of the back before my client since he was swinging by the bathroom and she didn’t notice me at first. That gave me the time to snap a pic of her exactly like I imagined her fitting into my life. When she looked up at me, the smile on her face took my breath away.
I asked her, “How long have you been here, Baby?”
She gave me a shy smile, “Not too long.”
I nodded toward the finished beanie, “Long enough to make that?” She grinned and shrugged. “Why didn’t you come back and tell me you were here?” I looked back to the stations and see Walsh give me a grin. Troy was checking out the back piece that I’m in the middle of on my client. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you were here?”
“I’m not here to interrupt you working, Beckett. I won’t be a distraction to you, and I have no problem waiting out here. This couch is sooooo comfortable and I like the music you guys play.” She bit her lip, “I told them not to tell you, so don’t take anything out on them, Love.”
I grinned at her but before I could respond my client came out of the back, pulling his shirt over his head. He saw Amelia and a slow smile spread across his face as he leered at my girl. I could see Amelia glance at me out of the corner of my eye as I was staring at my client; was this fuck really going to try and hit on my girl in front of me?
“Hey beautiful,” he drawled, not even looking in my direction.
Yup, he totally was. My fists clenched at my sides and I was just about to take a step toward him.
Amelia scrunched up her nose and held up a hand, “Don’t even try it.” She points toward me, “I’m his girl so I suggest you pull back your sleaze and show some respect, especially if your tattoo isn’t done and you have more sessions to schedule.”
Both of our mouths dropped open, but my surprise quickly morphed into pride and a huge fucking grin on my face. She’s so fucking perfect. The bark of laughter behind me made me turn around where Walsh and Troy were fighting each other for space in the doorway.
Walsh reached out and squeezed my shoulder and whispered, “See, man, she’s loyal as fuck. You’re keeping her, right? No, not a question, we’re keeping her.”
My client turned to me and gave me a small uncomfortable smile, “Sorry, man, I didn’t realize she was yours.” He turned toward Amelia, “I meant no disrespect. You are beautiful and Banks is clearly a lucky man.”
She grinned at him and nodded before winking at me and sassing, “Damn right he is.”
With that she diffused the entire situation and we all were able to have a laugh about it and I was able to cash out my client without having to punch him in the face. When we got home that night, I cooked her dinner before laying her out on the dining room table and feasting on her delicious pussy for dessert. I thanked her for her loyalty with many, many orgasms and that’s before I buried myself deep inside her.
Speaking of that dining room table, we spent last Sunday making our watercolor river tabletop. It was so much fun making it with her. She has a really good eye for color, and we worked well together. Not that I had any doubt, but I’ve learned a good test of any relationship is doing some sort of project where you have to listen to each other.
Bri and I tried to build a bookcase together once and I was very close to throwing the shelves through a window because it was a better choice than hitting her upside the head with one. It was a big pain in the ass and a total mess. I should have known right then it wasn’t going to work out. She was so fucking entitled and lazy while trying to build something so simple.
Amelia isn’t like that. She’s capable. She’s smart and so fucking considerate it hurts. While watching her at Mark’s workshop making the tabletop, I fell deeper in love with her. She was knowledgeable but didn’t act like a know it all. She asked questions and was genuinely interested in learning. She deferred to me about some things, but if she had an opinion, she wasn’t afraid to express it. Watching her learn and be passionate about it was sexy as hell.
It’s Friday and the table’s being delivered today. She’s off work and is staying at the house to make sure everything gets put back together. She’s also planning on going grocery shopping to get everything we’ll need for Nacho Bar night in two days. We’re planning to make salsas and marinate everything tomorrow night.
Troy and Walsh have, as my girl predicted, made a competition out of Nacho Bar night and it’s hilarious. They’ve now dared each other to eat ghost peppers and habaneros whole. They better bring that shit themselves because I saw Amelia’s list and they aren’t on them, even though the guys have begged her in our group chat. Every time they do, she just sends a disapproving face gif; last time it was a nun. I wish she could have heard how hard Troy laughed at that shit.
Last night when she fell asleep on the couch and before I carried her to bed, I took the opportunity to slip my credit card in her wallet with a note for her to use it to get the groceries and anything else we need or want. I don’t know when she found it before I left this morning, but when I went to pay for lunch today I found my card back in its spot and a note that said she was taking care of it since I already made good on my promise to get her a comfy chair for my studio space.
I texted her and tried to get her to come by and pick it up, but she insisted that she was paying. She told me that the extra orders she’d been getting were in large part due to the shop and that it more than covered what groceries would cost. I can tell she’s not going to back down. She’s independent and that’s something I love about her.
She was working on some orders while waiting for the table and right after our lunchtime conversation she texted me a picture of the table finished and installed. She let me know she was heading out to grab groceries and that she’d let me know when she got back. I love that she doesn’t mind humoring my protective instincts and always lets me know what she’s doing so I don’t worry about her.
The table looks amazing and I can’t wait to see it in person. My last appointment for the day should be here soon and then I’ll be going home to shower and pick up my girl so we can meet everyone for our regular Friday night hangout.
This will be our second one together and it’s so much better having her there. Not only do women not hit on me, which is priceless, but she’s just fun to be around. She doesn’t seek out the spotlight, but she’s not a shrinking violet either. She’s just in it and is happy to listen to some wild story or to sit in silence without being compelled to fill it.
She even got Zeke to come out of his shell a little bit with a few well-placed questions and a smile, last week. He pulled me aside the next day and told me how much he liked her and that he was happy to see me so happy. Zeke has never said anything like that to me before. He’s our friend, part of the family, but he’s pretty closed off and doesn’t usually say much.
Occasionally it’s been hard, over the last two weeks, to focus on my clients because thoughts of Amelia invade my mind. It’s not a problem I’m complaining about. Not even a little. Today, I buckle down when my client comes in and get done right before Amelia texts me that she’s home and has everything unloaded and put away. She’s a fucking goddess.
She’ll be an amazing mom. I bet two weeks is too soon to have that conversation. Thoughts of Amelia getting pregnant are on repeat in the back of my mind while I wrap up my client’s piece and give him care instructions. He’s a repeat client so I know he knows what to do, but I can’t let my cock make me less of a professional. Not an easy feat. I bet she’ll glow like a fucking angel when pregnant.
I clean up quickly and promise everyone to see them in a few hours at the bar. Troy’s last client of the day just walked in, so I have some time to go home and sink balls deep into my woman. I climb in my car and consider that I might get home just in time to find her in the shower. I groan and reach down to adjust myself. She’s fucking sexy as hell wet and covered in bubbles like a naughty burlesque dancer.
I caught her in the shower a few days ago and didn’t waste any time turning her to face the wall, pressing her hands against the tile and popping her ass up so I could fuck her hard and fast from behind. Anytime I’m looking at her ass while I’m fucking her, I’m compelled to spank her. She loves it. Fuck, the sounds she makes when I spank her are sexy as fuck.
In the shower I used the soap to my advantage and slipped a finger in ass while I fucked her and promised that I’d claim every part of her sooner rather than later. She came so hard it was a struggle keeping her upright, especially since her pussy was squeezing my cock so hard there was no way I could hold back any longer, but I’d never let her fall and it was fucking hot.
It feels like it takes me forever to get home, but when I pull into the driveway it makes my heart feel full to see her car waiting there for me. I like her being safe in our home. I jog up the steps and unlock the door. The sight that greets me, I’ve learned, is a favorite and surprisingly sexy.
Amelia is snuggled into the couch, her curls piled on top of her head in a messy bun and a basket of yarn at her feet as she’s busy crocheting something. Why is that sexy? I have no fucking idea. You’d think a hobby that’s associated with old ladies would be off putting. Maybe it’s because this is her artform that I find it so fucking appealing.
I am baffled that she takes yarn and makes something that has purpose but is still beautiful. She’s humored my loads of questions when she’s making something while we hang out together in the living room. I find it fascinating the way the stitches are created and I love watching the way the hook moves.
The twisting of the yarn and the way her hands move draw me in. There’s something magical there. She says there’s something magical in my tattoos and that crochet isn’t that special. The last time she said that I pulled her project out of her hands and fucked her in that overstuffed chair in my studio. I took the yarn and wrapped it around her wrists behind her back and had her ride me while I told her how sexy it is that she makes things with her hands and how sexy it is watching her crochet. That was 4 days ago and since then every time she catches me watching her crochet, she just gives me a sly smile. Which is also fucking hot.
Damn, what this woman does to me. I snapped a pic of her last Friday when I got home and found her in the same position; curled up on the couch, hair up in a messy bun, hook and yarn in hand. She was wearing one of my Banks Ink. shirts and even though my shirts are fitted across her hips, they’re way too big for her in the shoulders and it was hanging off one.
Her bare shoulder told me she wasn’t wearing a bra. She always changes into pajamas when we get home, she hates relaxing in jeans, and her bra is always the first thing that comes off. So fucking adorable.
Amelia braless was hot as hell just by itself, but she was also wearing a pair of pajama pants with the Dark Side of the Moon prism repeated all over them. They’re her pants, not mine and get this, they’re one of her favorite pai
rs. She doesn’t own a single pair of girly pajama pants, they’re all novelty ones and most are music related. How is that so damn sexy?
The first time I saw her wear them my jaw fell open and she straight up challenged me and called me on my, apparently, ‘sexist shit’. Clearly, I know women know about Pink Floyd, I had just never met one, especially not one that would wear the prism on their pajama pants. You know what Amelia did? Like the goddess she is, she sassed me and said that I had been hanging out with the wrong women. How fucking right she was. I showed her just how much I appreciated her with my fingers, my tongue and my cock the rest of the night. Consider me suitably put in my place.
Anyway, when I came home last Friday and found her like that, she glanced up at me and gave me a little smile, but didn’t give me her full attention like she normally would and I realized that she was counting under her breath. It gave me the opportunity to snap a pic of her and post it before she even realized it. I captioned it:
The best thing after work is coming home to my girl making art with yarn and looking cozy as fuck wearing my brand. Not only do I walk in on this gorgeous sight, but it smells amazing in here. Wonder what’s for dinner. #banksink. #homeiswheremyheartis #mygirlismyhome #dinnerisintheoven
Confession time, I’m not really a huge social media guy, but I noticed something when I was going through my girl’s social media. While she didn’t ever post a lot of pictures of herself, she would post the occasional selfie or a picture with friends when she was in high school and early on in her college years, but then they almost completely stopped.
When I asked her about it, she told me she didn’t like pictures of herself and tried to shrug it off. I could see there was something else there though. I figure the pictures fell off when her ex started filling her head with complete bullshit about herself and when she looks at a picture of herself, she hears it all in her head. So, she avoids it completely.