“Great.” My cell phone pinged, and I reached for it in my pocket and swiped it open. It was my landlord. “I have to run home for a minute. I can’t leave you alone, Abbie. Care to take a ride with me?”
She smiled. “I’d love to see your place.”
Chapter Sixteen
Beck
As we walked the back steps to my apartment, I was greeted by my neighbor, Mrs. Whitney. “Beck, I couldn’t rest knowing these boxes were outside all night. I begged the delivery man to bring them this far. He would’ve left them by the door downstairs.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Whitney, but the landlord texted me about them,” I said, and moved past her to unlock my door. I heard her gasp.
I turned around and saw her holding her chest. Instantly, I assumed she was having a heart attack or some other medical issue—then she smiled.
“Oh my goodness, it’s you! Abbie Parker from Channel 7 News. I watch you every morning,” Mrs. Whitney said.
Abbie’s eyes were glossy as she smiled, a little tipsy from the wine. “Thank you for tuning in every morning. We love to hear people are watching us.”
“You are as beautiful as you are on television. And you know Beck?”
Abbie put her hand to her chest. “You’re going to make me blush, and yes, I know Beck. He’s a great guy, isn’t he?”
Mrs. Whitney nodded. “And so helpful. He’s not around much.”
I stayed out of their conversation and loaded the three boxes into my apartment. The heat that had built inside was stifling. The door opened to the kitchen, so I opened those windows to let in some air.
Abbie stood on the small iron landing listening to Mrs. Whitney babble on about something. Most likely, the hernia surgery she’d had ten years ago. I’d heard the story so often that I could recite it like a line from a movie.
I’d give them a few more minutes, then rescue Abbie from my talkative and nosey neighbor. She would talk Abbie’s ear off for hours if possible.
Eventually, I dragged Abbie away from Mrs. Whitney and closed and locked the backdoor. She had a habit of wandering in, saying she had knocked first.
Opening windows and turning on the fan would air out the place. It was stuffy and smelled stale. I hadn’t been home for weeks. The only window open was the one in the bathroom, which was down the hall from my bedroom. With the fire escape located under my bedroom window, I wasn’t leaving that one open to thieves.
“Your place is nice, Beck. I picture you sitting on the couch watching sport, or reading.”
“Oh yeah? Sorry it’s hot in here. I think I have lemonade in the fridge. Do you want one? It’s the stuff in the can.”
She sat on the couch and crossed her legs. “I would love one, thanks.”
After washing my hands, I took two glasses from the cabinet and cracked ice cubes from the tray. I filled the glasses with Country Time Lemonade and tossed the cans in the recycle bin.
I searched the cabinets for snacks, and all I had was pretzels. I poured those into a large bowl and grabbed some napkins from the holder on the table. Not many single men had a napkin holder on the kitchen table, but my mother gave it to me, so I felt inclined to use it.
With drinks and bowl in hand, I went to the living room, realizing Abbie was the first woman to be in my apartment. In the eight months, I’d been here, I’d invited no one to my home. This was my space, my heaven away from stress. A place for me to wallow in my own misery.
“Here you go. I only had pretzels to snack on. I’ll order a pizza if you’re hungry?”
Abbie took a sip of the lemonade. “Pizza sounds great. I should’ve eaten something before drinking two glasses of wine.”
I ordered the pizza and turned on the television while we waited for it to come. It wasn’t late, nearing four in the afternoon, but Abbie would be ready for bed around nine.
“What did you order from Amazon?” Abbie asked, and pointed to the boxes on the floor.
“Actually, nothing,” I said. I reached for the smallest of the three boxes and read the address label. Braxton had sent the boxes. That was odd; he hadn’t mentioned he’d be sending me anything.
I tore off the tape, and the flaps fell apart to reveal the contents. My stomach flipped. Inside were items I had given to Joanie. The crystal heart I’d given her for Valentine’s Day. I placed it on the table. Next, I removed framed pictures of us together, smiling and happy. She hadn’t bothered to remove the photos from the custom-made frames.
I dug through the box, retrieving every damn thing I’d given her. The next box had T-shirts, birthday cards, and a wall poster we had made from a vacation to the Bahamas we’d taken.
Anger filled my body as I pushed the boxes away, not caring what was in the third box. That bitch had the nerve to send the shit to my brother for him to forward to me. I would deal with him later.
I felt Abbie’s hand on my shoulder. “Beck. Don’t let her do this to you.”
My jaw was clenched so tight that I couldn’t open my mouth to speak. “She could’ve thrown the shit away instead of sending it back.”
“If she did that, the effect wouldn’t be the same. In a couple of days, she’ll call and ask if you received them.”
I turned to look at her. “What?”
“Come on, Beck, it’s a classic bitch move. She has to push that last knife in all the way. Don’t let her see you bleed.”
I was seething. “What Joanie is doing is making me hate her.”
She leaned in closer. The smell of her perfume teased my nose, and her hair was soft against my cheek. The skin of her shoulder was warm and damp on my arm.
“Throw away all that stuff so you can start over with a clean slate—unless it holds meaning for you?”
“None of that shit holds any meaning to me anymore. What it does is show me a side of Joanie that I didn’t want to know or face.” I sighed, really wishing I was alone so I could curse and throw a tantrum without a witness.
“Hey, don’t pull away from me like that.”
I ran a hand through my hair, which was a little damp. It was hot as hell in this place. “I’m sorry I ruined the mood. You were already in a bad one, and I’ve made it worse with my bullshit.”
“I should apologize to you, then. I hate airing my dirty laundry in front of people. What happened with my father and Trina is ongoing—I don’t see that changing. As for Eddie, that blind-sided me.”
“You know I want to hit him. Has he called you again?”
Abbie shook her head, and the motion against my arm felt good. “Not since last week. Maybe he got the message.”
“Good,” I said. I placed my hand over hers. “I don’t understand his bullshit logic of putting you through hell.” I looked at the spilled contents of the boxes on the floor. It was the same bullshit logic Joanie had.
“After our last conversation, I decided I don’t want to be alone forever. I want to love and be loved,” she said in almost a whisper. “I don’t deny I’m afraid of loving again, but I need to. I have a lot to offer the right person.”
“I agree you do have a lot to offer the right man. But give yourself time to heal. The next man deserves to know he won’t be living in Eddie’s shadow.”
“I have a small confession, and if I tell you, promise you won’t run screaming from the room?”
“I can’t make any promises,” I joked. “But I’m listening.”
“Please don’t think I’m a psycho or anything, but I somehow feel you’re repairing the parts of me Eddie broke. I can’t understand it myself. Your nature is so calming and caring.”
I was shocked at her honesty. I didn’t expect her to open up to me about something so personal. We were almost strangers but had shared two kisses. Two spine-tingling kisses, I reminded myself.
Did she want me to reveal the same? I was not an emotional type of guy with women. A warm wetness touched my skin, and I saw her wipe a tear from her cheek.
Fuck… I had to say something. “I’m afraid of getting h
urt, too. I told myself I would step away from relationships because of the heartache, the loss—it’s just too much to keep redoing. Don’t get me wrong, I know the amount of work it takes to make a relationship work. I gave Joanie one hundred percent of myself, and she sent it back in three fucking boxes.”
She sniffed. “Looks like we’re just two complicated souls looking for someone to love us as we are.”
She was crying softly. I grabbed her arm, pulled her onto my lap, and started to brush away her tears until there were none left. “I’ll do everything in my power to not let anyone hurt you again.”
She shivered as I ran my hands down her bare arms. “If you were my woman, there would only be tears of happiness.” I brushed my lips against her forehead. “It killed me when I couldn’t hold you the night that asshole broke your heart.”
“You did hold me.” She hiccupped between sobs.
“I let you cry on my shoulder. I wanted to comfort you, Abbie, make you forget what you had seen inside that house.”
“The dreams won’t stop. I push through my days like nothing is wrong, but that image kills me. It just kills me.”
“Damn, you have no idea how hard it’s killing me to hear you say that.”
Fuck, I didn’t move to Cleveland to fall for another woman. Abbie Parker was slowly stealing my heart.
She was breathing heavily while staring at me with dilated pupils. “I want you, Beck,” she whispered. “Please make me forget about Eddie.”
“Do you understand what you’re asking me to do, Abbie?”
She nodded. “I promise I do.”
I could feel her heart pounding as she pressed her chest into me and rested her lips on mine. “Now help me feel better, Beck Pavlov.”
Chapter Seventeen
Abbie
I’d asked Beck, and damn me, he was delivering. His hand curled around the back of my head, and I wasted no time devouring his mouth. This would be the most intimate, and deepest kiss we’d shared.
I tilted my head to the side, exposing my neck. His lips moved down the column of my neck. The light touch of his soft lips against my skin seared me. First, he flicked out his tongue to taste me before he suckled hard on my sensitive skin. My skin was not dark enough to hide his mark on me. I knew I’d have to cover it with makeup. It was not the season for turtle necks.
His lips traveled across my throat and up my chin to capture my lips again. The flavor of lemonade transferred to my mouth as his tongue slid inside.
I wound my arms around his neck, and he growled low in his throat, shifting his hand from my waist to the small of my back and pressing me closer. Through his jeans, I felt every throbbing pulse of his erection as it pushed into me.
Beck caressed my bare midriff, and heat pooled at my center. I wanted him and needed his hands on me. In the back of my head, I knew it was wrong to use him, but I needed to be close to him. The alarms rang louder than the beats of my heart, but I ignored them.
A loud knock rattled the back door, and Beck cradled his head in the nook of my shoulder.
He drew back and dragged in a breath. “The pizza is here.”
“Damn on-time delivery,” I sighed. “How quickly can you get rid of him?”
He slid me off his lap and to the couch. “Keep those lips warm for me. I’ll be back in a flash.”
“I’ll keep them warm and waiting with bated breath.”
He grinned. “I get the feeling you’ve said that to men before.”
My eyes widened. “Just like you’re good at kissing. I bet many women have experienced those lips of yours.”
He smiled and went to answer the door. As promised, Beck returned in less than a minute, with a pizza box in his hands.
“Do you want to eat or continue where we left off?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and raised a brow. “That pizza can wait.”
He dropped the box on the table and was back on the sofa, nuzzling my nose with his. “I was praying you’d say that.”
I put my arms around his neck. “My nose is not what I want you to be kissing right now.”
We were all over each other, colliding in a haze of lust. I couldn’t give a shit about Eddie—right now. Beck’s hands, teeth, lips were everywhere. He had me pinned against the wall in the narrow hallway, as his mouth greedily devoured mine. As hard as we tried to make it to his bedroom, we had to stop to kiss, touch, or lick each other.
There was no finesse, no tenderness—this was primal, raw, two people desperate for each other. This was the ending of weeks of flirting, toying, and resisting the urge to rip each other’s clothes off.
His hands roamed my body, groping, grasping, squeezing. I was panting and moaning—I needed more. Were those sounds actually coming from me?
“Abbie, damn, baby…” He sighed heavily against my neck as I clawed at his back.
“Please,” I begged. “Don’t stop.”
I hardly got the words out, and his mouth was ravishing mine. Lord! Who was I? I no longer could form rational thoughts. My brain was overloaded with desire, want, lust, and I couldn’t stop if I wanted.
The anticipation of Beck on top of me, below me, behind me… brought out the wanton desires of a woman in need.
We’d made it to the bedroom, and Beck kicked the door closed. Beck’s tongue swirled with mine as we stumbled through the room. My legs hit the cold metal at the end of the bed, halting our movement.
“Turn around.” His deep voice dripped with sex.
Breathless, I obeyed his command. He lifted my hair and brushed hot kisses against my neck. The anticipation of what was to come buzzed from my head to my toes and back up to my stomach.
Aw, jeez. I whimpered as he pushed my shorts down my legs in an agonizingly slow way. The torture was intended to drive me crazy with desire and want for him.
I shifted my grip on the rod of the brass footboard, the fire churning in my core ached desperately for him to relieve.
There was a thumping under my feet, and dulled lyrics from a hip-hop song filled the room. The noise from the dance studio could be a distraction if I didn’t find a way to block it out.
In a husky whisper, I begged, “Beck, please…”
“Please what, baby?”
My shorts were pooled around my ankles, and a long moan escaped my lips as he trailed his tongue across my shoulders. The heat of his tongue in contrast to the stifling heat in the room wreaked havoc on my body.
He turned me around, and his breath hitched. Beck’s hungry eyes devoured my body as I stood before him wearing nothing but a bright yellow top. I had lost my sandals along the path to the bedroom.
He stepped forward, lifted my arms, and gently pulled my tank top over my head. He groaned. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
His mouth slammed against my swollen lips as he picked me up and kicked my shorts from around my ankles, caressing my stomach moving up to cup my breast.
Beck put me on the bed, straddling my middle. I clawed at his clothes, needing to feel his skin against mine. He pulled his T-shirt off, and I pressed my fingers against his abs. He hissed as my nails grazed his chest, feeling every inch of his perfectly toned body.
He leaned down, and closed his mouth around my nipple, pushing my need for release to a throbbing ache.
“Beck,” I mumbled, trying to control the sensations his touch had extracted.
He released my nipple and said against it, “Tell me what you want.”
Good gravy, the sensation of his breath against my hard tip sent me over the edge. “You—I want you.” I groaned as he massaged my other breast.
“Oh, baby, you’re going to have me.” He traced my nipple slowly with his tongue. “I’m going to watch you come. Over and over.”
I nearly came to pieces from his words alone. His voice was low and primal. I grabbed for his neck, pulled him toward me, and devoured his mouth. He broke the kiss and moved down my throat and chest, licking and kissing, until he reached my breasts again.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head from the ecstasy. “Oh, that feels so good.”
Beck groaned and moved a hand to my panties his fingers tracing my sex.
“Yes—so fucking wet for me.”
The hunger in his eyes burned red-hot fire—I’d never felt as sexy as I did right then. I needed him. I wanted him so bad that it hurt.
I reached for his belt, needing to feel him. Beck was more than happy to help with his clothes. He managed to get his pants off, without getting off me, but grabbed my wrists before I could pull his boxers off.
I looked up at him. He smiled, his face covered with a light sheen of sweat. “I won’t be able to control myself if you do that. Lie down.”
I complied, and he raised my wrists over my head. It was so uncomfortably hot in the bedroom. My body was slick with sweat. Though that was more from what he was doing to me than the heat from the room.
I felt his hands on the move again and shivered from his touch.
“I need to taste you.” He leaned in and placed kisses from my knee up to my thigh.
As his mouth moved higher, I started to tremble. I closed my eyes and fisted the thick bedspread as his tongue swiped at my sex. It felt so incredible. I hadn’t had that done to me since Garo. Eddie was not an oral type of man. Sure, he enjoyed getting it, but he didn’t give it. At least not to me.
Beck continued to lick and suck at the bundle of nerves and then stopped. Then he started again, bringing me closer and closer before suddenly stopping again. I was almost to the point of tearing his hair out if he didn’t stop teasing me.
I needed to feel that release so bad it became physically painful. “Please, I’m so close.”
Beck licked and sucked my clit, bringing me to the breaking point. His tongue obviously wasn’t enough torture, so he inserted a finger, slowly curling it around, while he pressed harder with his tongue.
I exploded, and my back bowed off the bed as I repeated his name over and over, losing myself to the most intense orgasm I’d ever had. Holy guacamole! I opened my eyes as he came over me.
Beck Page 12