Slow Burn

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Slow Burn Page 33

by K. Bromberg


  I reach out and smooth a hand over his chest and up to the line of his jaw. “I’m not going to promise I’m not going to push, Becks, because I’m going to get scared. Hell, I’m already scared about what’s going to come … but I promise that I’m not going to run. I’m not going to shut you out. Because we are,” I tell him. He gives a devastating smile. I lean forward and taste his temptation and lose myself for a moment in it.

  I rest my forehead against his, my last confession burning on my tongue. “I’ve used sex for so long to make me feel so I can forget, and I don’t want to do that anymore,” my lips whisper against his as I lay all my cards on the table. I can feel the heat of his breath, smell the scent of his cologne as I wait to make sure he hears my words. “You’ve changed that for me. My gloves are on, Becks, but they’re for the one battle I’ve yet to fight…. There’s no need to wear them with you….” I press another kiss to his lips and move my hands to the base of his neck so that my hands can play idly in his hair. “I know how I feel about you, and now it’s time to show you. Let me make love to you.”

  I hear his quick intake of breath, his body tensing in momentary restraint before I feel his lips spread into a smile against mine.

  “You don’t have to ask twice,” he laughs, and in a swift motion, his hands have lifted my tank top over my head.

  The minute it clears my face, I have only a moment to see the fire in his eyes before his lips are on mine. I drown in the intensity of the kiss, his complete dominance of my senses as he uses his mouth to own each and every sound he coaxes from me while his hands skim over the bare flesh of my back.

  They graze across my rib cage to my chest, and I can’t help but freeze when he cups both of my breasts. Cold, hard reality pulls me from the eroticism of the moment and the hot sex that’s in my near future. “Becks …”

  He brings his lips to my ear, where his heated breath warms my skin. “You are so fucking beautiful, Haddie Montgomery, with or without these.” He flicks his thumbs over my hard nipples, causing me to gasp from the sensation. “These do not make you the woman I love. Not in the least. You got that?”

  He presses a soft kiss to the space just below my ear as the emotion and meaning behind his words hit me like a one-two combo punch. My eyes well with tears but I don’t have a chance to comprehend anything else because Becks closes his mouth over one of my nipples and sucks.

  Emotions mix with sensations and tackle me from every angle as I move my hips to try to relieve the ache he’s adding to with his alternating sucks and scrapes of teeth. “Sweet, sweet Haddie,” he murmurs to me, followed by a satisfied grown in the back of his throat.

  He takes his time enjoying my breasts, all the while removing my shorts, his clothes, and I’m so taken by his thoroughness and adept skill that it rather shocks me to find that he’s also repositioned me. My ass hangs half off the couch, my shoulders against the back of it, and my legs are spread wide.

  He begins to kiss his way down my abdomen as I feel the featherlight touch of his fingertips skimming from my knee up the inside line of my thigh. Soft and gentle. Thorough and attentive.

  So damn addictive.

  I exhale when his fingers brush over my sex, a teasing taunt that causes me to tilt my hips and physically ask for more. He chuckles softly, his fingers parting me at the same time he blows softly on my clit. “Becks …”

  “Mm. I want to taste you,” he murmurs a second before I watch him lower and then feel his mouth on my bared flesh. And it’s not like I’m not watching him do it, but the warmth of his mouth still shocks me, makes me tense up.

  His fingers slide back and forth once, then twice, before he tucks them into me. I’m wet instantly, my body so primed for him as he begins to slide his fingers in and out of me at the same time his tongue laves my external center of nerves. I weave my fingers in his hair, a gentle way to tell him when the sensations are just too much. And when I tug on his hair, he just laughs softly, the vibration of it an added element to his ministrations as he completely ignores my request.

  He looks up at me, eyes hungry with a carnal sensuality. “You said you wanted to feel for the right reasons … so sit back, do anything but shut up—hell, scream if you want—and let me make you feel to remember … not to forget.”

  He presses a kiss to the top of my sex before using his tongue to part me as he slides back down. This time, though, his fingers pull out to part me so that his tongue can plunge in, driving my need to levels that render me senseless.

  Soon the ragged cry falls from my mouth, and I push my hips toward his mouth and my head falls back against the couch while I absorb the seduction of his tongue. I force myself to open my eyes so that I can watch him manipulate me, own me … love me.

  And there is something so raw and real in the moment his eyes raise to meet mine, my taste on his tongue and my body at his mercy, that I begin to tremble as the first strains of my orgasm begin to pulse through me.

  “Oh God!” I cry out when it hits me full force, lost to him and the moment because this may be a physical release, but it’s also the emotional offering of my heart. My body slowly liquefies as the spasms abate, Becks still groaning with desire as he tastes my pleasure.

  I swear I hear him say, “That’s one,” but I’m so lost to the world beyond that using energy to respond is nearly impossible.

  I let my head fall back, eyes closed, muscles still riding the orgasmic aftershocks. His mouth leaves the V of my thighs, and the cool breeze is a slight shock when it hits my swollen flesh. His body brushes against my thighs, and then I feel his smooth crest positioned perfectly at my entrance.

  “Look at me, Haddie.” His words pull me from my pleasure-induced coma. The mixture of authority and compassion in his voice tugs my insides in every direction imaginable, giving me a glimpse of what I’ve always gravitated toward and what I now find incredibly sexy.

  Only Becks could pull this mix off.

  The only thought I can manage before he pushes his way into me at an achingly slow pace is what a lucky, lucky woman I am to have found him.

  And not to have lost him.

  Our eyes lock while we both succumb to the slow, sweet burn of pleasure as he bottoms all the way out. He stills, his hips flexing in a show of restraint from driving in me at the thunderous rhythm his eyes tell me he’s dying for. And that little movement of his hips seems like nothing, but it causes his dick to press against the exact place I need to feel it.

  My breath hitches, and my fingernails dig into my own thighs when mindless pleasure takes hold as he slowly pulls out, every single nerve paid perfect attention from the pace he sets. I look down to where we are joined, the head of his cock buried inside me, but the remainder glistens with my arousal. He begins to slide back in, the hotter-than-hell image of him becoming part of me in all ways possible is the only thing I can focus on.

  I’m lost to the thought and the sight until I look up and meet his eyes. He’s inches from my face, so I can’t mistake the emotion swimming in the aqua pools in front of me: love, desire, need, want.

  And the last one solidifies everything I feel for him and then some: It’s awe.

  My heart swells, and a smile spreads on my lips as I lean up to kiss him. The action earns me a rough growl since my whole body tenses with the motion, causing my muscles to tighten around him.

  Our restraint snaps.

  Desire consumes us as he yanks my torso forward so he can tackle my mouth with his tongue. I taste my own arousal on his lips, and that mixed with the increasing tempo of his hips’ cadence causes the tingle of sensation to turn into an earthquake of aching need.

  My hands begin to roam, demanding more with scoring fingernails and bruising holds as his mouth brands my body and his dick dominates every sensation I have. The onslaught is so intense, so riddled with passion and urgency, that as my body begins to tighten around him, I lose myself completely.

  I can’t concentrate anymore. I have to remind myself to breathe, tell my thi
ghs not to squeeze him out as they press against his torso from the building pressure. My lips fall lax, my ability to kiss him lost from the inundation of experiencing so much at once. I’m unable to do anything … anything that is but feel.

  I look up at him, my slow and steady, to find him anything but that. His eyes blaze into mine, demanding that I give him everything of myself right now. The look alone makes my mouth go dry—the glimpse of my bad boy coming through momentarily. He reaches down and digs his fingers into the flesh at my hips to tilt them and alter the sensation.

  And all of it—the look in his eyes, the ownership in his touch, the breath he’s stolen from me, and his heart that he’s given me—pushes me over the edge. My body explodes into a sea of liquid fire that leaves every part of me burned with Becks’s indelible mark.

  He pulls me forward, fitting himself to me skin to skin so that he can piston his hips harder, faster, drawing out my orgasm while igniting his. He buries his face in the curve of my neck as he calls my name over and over in a matching rhythm to his thrusts. He rocks us, our bodies tangled up in each other’s and our hearts getting used to the weight of the chain and lock settling there for good.

  My heart is thundering so loud in my ears that I almost miss the words he says, but there’s no mistaking them once my mind processes them. My muscles freeze momentarily, the tears stinging my eyes a complement to the soft smile on my lips. I squeeze my arms around him a bit tighter, my soul sighing in contentment before I lean back and meet his eyes.

  I need him to see me when I say it for the first time.

  “I love you too, Beckett.”

  Chapter 31

  “I had tons of fun today. I’ll see you when I get back from my trip, okay?” I cringe at the lie, hoping Maddie can’t hear the guilt in my voice. At first she’s quiet on the other end of the line, my body rocking as I wait for her to call me on the carpet. “You have a blast at your slumber party tonight, okay?”

  “I will. It’s going to be sooo much fun!” She giggles, and the sound warms my heart because she’s taking baby steps to normalcy. And I fear if she finds out I’m sick, it’ll knock her back some. “Fly safe with angels. And call me lots if you can! Love you, Haddie Maddie.”

  “I will,” I say, thinking of the only angel I need looking out for me. “Love you more, Maddie Haddie.”

  “Hearts and heels.”

  I catch the sob that threatens with her comment and fortunately am able to suppress it. “Hearts and heels, baby girl.”

  The phone clicks, and I gasp out when I remove the hand I’m holding over my mouth. I slide down the wall, my phone clattering to the ground beside me as I fight the range of emotions that are on constant recycle today.

  I hate lying to Maddie, even if I’m doing it with her best interests in mind. But it still sucks telling her I’m going on a business trip tomorrow when in fact I’m going in for surgery. I don’t want her scared or worried. I want her to be the little girl slowly healing, learning to live again without her mommy.

  It was Becks’s idea to tell her I was going on a trip. He had asked to tag along on our girl day last week of Chuck E. Cheese’s, pedicures, new strappy sandal shoe shopping, and ice cream on the boardwalk. When Maddie had asked why Nana had to take her to her Girl Scout’s meeting next week, I drew a blank. My mind was so busy focusing on all the details of the Scandalous deal I’d just signed and how I was going to manage it while going through treatment that she caught me off guard.

  And that was when Becks stepped up and informed her he was taking me on a trip to spoil me. Maddie had been so excited at the prospect of me flying on an airplane that the topic had dominated the rest of the conversation.

  I sigh and lean my head back, settling into my last few moments of solitude before Becks comes over. I close my eyes and enjoy the smile that comes so easily at the thought of him. He’s provided humor during the tedious hours waiting between pre-op blood work, endless scans, and other appointments. He’s held me while I cried on the few nights when the fear settled in before sexing me up so damn good that I’m so tired I don’t even have the strength to summon the emotion again.

  And he’s shared his mom’s homemade chocolate chip cookies with me.

  Now, that’s serious.

  My smile spreads wider now, my body warming at the thought of him, heart swelling and psyche so glad I let him in the ring because I’m so lucky to have him with me for this fight.

  I love him.

  The thought still stuns me … how easy it is to feel it, to accept it, when I did nothing but push it away.

  And it’s so much easier to focus on that these last couple days than it is my surgery tomorrow. I’m handling it well—the freak-outs far and few between—but the fear is still there, the worry a constant presence.

  Becks calls them my shadow—fear and worry—and he’s even made a game of it to try to make me laugh and ease my mind. Anytime we’re outside where my shadow is present, he positions himself so that he steps on it. At first I thought he was crazy, but then we started making a game of it: two crazy people walking erratically down Santa Monica pier in some weird competition, screeching and laughing every time he’d try to stomp and I’d evade him at the last minute. I was well in the lead of the stomp-to-nonstomp ratio when we reached the end of the pier.

  Then Becks grabbed my arm, pulled me into him, and caught my lips with his. It was a kiss that rivaled no other with the sun above us, the sounds of the amusement park around us, and the taste of saltwater taffy on his tongue. And when he started laughing, his lips breaking from mine, I looked at him to figure out what exactly was so funny. He just quirked an eyebrow and looked down to where he was standing on my shadow.

  Stomping out fear and worry thoroughly with his tennis shoes.

  “I win,” he said, flashing me a devilish grin.

  I shiver in delight, remembering how great it was to lose to Beckett Daniels. Who can argue with a man who takes you home to have a romantic dinner of McDonald’s hamburgers on a checkered blanket on the balcony? Handy thing that blanket turned out to be when he decided to have his way with me after we played truth or dare staring at the stars in the sky. The best part of the night besides the obvious was that he promised next time I’d get his mom’s homemade lasagna.

  He must really love me.

  I smile at the thought, and when I pull my head from the memory, I realize that my hand is worrying the charm on my new necklace back and forth. The necklace that appears to be interlinking chains with a heart-shaped padlock for a charm. The one I received two days ago with a card that said Clank, clank.

  I guess I’m just like my mom after all, worrying my charm over my chain, but my shadow has been stomped out by Becks, so all I have left to cling to, besides hope, is this—my love and all of the people who love me.

  As I begin to laugh into the empty silence of my house, I realize that for so long I feared how lonely Lexi must have felt facing this battle. It was her body against this terrible disease … but after these past two weeks, after letting Becks in so he can love me, I realize that she was anything but alone. She had an army of supporters who loved her dearly, just as I could if I let people know—and the thought comforts me to no end.

  First the surgery and then telling people. Baby steps.

  I’ve found peace for the first time in a long while with my sister’s death. Maybe it’s Becks’s presence, maybe it’s tomorrow’s surgery—I don’t know—but I do know that there is a sense of calm now within the painful tumult in my soul that had been missing.

  I hang my head down and just let the laughter come freely.

  “Now, that’s the best sound in the world.”

  I lift my head up to find Becks leaning against the doorjamb of my bedroom, jeans on and a shirt unbuttoned at the collar and with the cuffs rolled up. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the sight of him standing so comfortably in my bedroom, nor will it ever get old. And I’m so used to my relaxed and casual man that I forget
how stunning he looks when he’s out of his beloved board shorts. Although I quite like the lack of shirt that often accompanies the shorts, this look also gets my motor running. I scrape my eyes at a leisurely pace up his body and take in that disarming smile of his before meeting his eyes.

  “I forgot how nice you clean up, Country.” My smile widens as he steps forward and squats down on his haunches in front of me.

  “And there’s no chance in hell I could forget how beautiful you are.”

  “Smooth, Mr. Daniels, very smooth.”

  He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my lips in a move that awakens the other five percent of my body that his presence alone didn’t spark to life. I slide my tongue between his lips and bring my hands up to the base of his neck when he drops to his knees to deepen the kiss.

  “Hmm,” he hums in protest as he drags his lips from mine. “I’d love to continue this, but we have somewhere we need to be right now.”

  I shake my head and meet his eyes, confusion flooding through me. This is my last night before surgery, and we’d agreed to spend it snuggling together, eating junk food before my midnight cutoff time and then staying up to talk before leaving for the hospital.

  “I thought we’d agreed—”

  “We did,” he says with a smirk before pressing a kiss to my forehead and then standing up. He reaches a hand out to me to help me stand. “But I lied. Stand up, pretty lady. You’ve got twenty minutes to get ready so that we’re not late.” I look up at him, our hands clasped and hearts joined, and I see so much more than a handsome man.

  I see my future.

  He pulls me up off the ground. I lean in for a kiss and am handily turned so that he can swat me on the backside. “No funny stuff, Montgomery. There’s plenty of time for that later. Hurry that fine ass of yours up, Your Highness. Your chariot awaits you.”

 

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