Chapter 6 So Bumpy #2
Beck exhales, a sound halfway between relief and surrender.
He moves forward, pulls me close, and kisses me, like he’s done waiting. I kiss him back, with my hands on his shoulders, until the room spins and blurs and my body aches for him.
Still kissing, Beck lifts me, the way he used to when we were young, right before he tossed me laughing into the community pool, only this time it’s his bed he drops me onto.
I sink into the mattress, and he follows, settling his weight carefully over mine, kissing me until I’m breathless. Until I’m begging for more.
“You sure?” he asks quietly, forehead resting against mine.
I smile. “It’s you. Of course I am.”
He smiles, bright and happy, and the sight of it warms me like sunlight.
He kisses me again, slower this time, like there’s nowhere else to be and no reason to hurry.
Like the years between us are folding inward, collapsing until there’s only this—his mouth, his hands, the quiet understanding passing between us.
When his fingers find the hem of my shirt, it feels less like a question and more like a continuation, as natural as breathing. I nod anyway, just so he knows.
“Sorry,” he murmurs when the fabric catches on my necklace and we stop to untangle it.
I smile. “It’s okay.”
We fumble for a second, then laugh quietly, foreheads touching before the shirt separates from the chain and he pulls it over my head.
He kisses along my jaw, my neck, pausing like he’s savoring every reaction, every soft sigh I give him. My hands slip beneath his shirt, skin meeting skin, and he lets out a quiet gasp. His restraint cracks. The rest of our clothing disappears between one breath and the next.
Beck spreads my legs and settles himself between them, half kneeling.
The hallway light is still on, the door cracked open just enough that a soft spill of yellow light reaches the bed.
It casts him in shadow and glow all at once, enough for me to see the way his eyes move over my naked body, how they linger on my breasts, my thighs, the apex of my legs.
There’s desire in that gaze, barely held back.
He runs his hands over me, ending with both palms on my breasts, circling before lightly pinching my nipples. My breath comes faster. My hips swivel, searching for an outlet for the fire burning there.
Even though his touch is sure, there’s something a little distracted, unfocused about his expression. I’m just starting to wonder what it means when he asks in a hoarse voice, “Ca—can I taste you?” He flushes red, so dark I notice it even in the dim room.
I prop myself up on my elbows to look at him.
“I’ve wanted to do it,” he admits, his blush deepening. “Had dreams about it for years.” He peeks up at me, then quickly away. “Sometimes, in my mind, you’re wearing your cheerleading outfit…and sometimes it’s your lab coat.”
I raise my eyebrows, amused. “So cheerleaders and STEM girls turn you on?”
My grin slips when Beck meets my gaze and says quietly, “You turn me on, Gracie. You.”
“Oh,” is all I can manage in response. A pause and then I say, “If you want to…you know, that’s okay with me.” Better than okay, but I hold that part in, not wanting to put too much pressure on it.
He positions himself lower, with his head between my legs.
His fingers separate me gently while he kisses up my thigh.
Once he’s reached my clit, he pauses and puffs warm breath over it.
I’m so sensitive that the breeze is enough to make me cry out, but when his mouth follows with a long leisurely lick up my center I just about lose my mind.
I say his name and tilt my hips, greedy for more.
Beck is more than happy to oblige. He presses alternating open-mouth kisses, followed by licks and swirls of his tongue, slowly at first, drawn out, but then building with a quiet kind of intensity until I’m bucking under him.
He adds one finger, then two, moving them in and out in perfect rhythm with the sharp flick of his tongue against my clit. I fist the bedsheets beside me as the tension tightens in my core.
“I’m so close,” I say, my voice as much a whine as it is a moan.
He lifts his head, my arousal glistening on his chin. “No,” he says, his voice deep and commanding. “When you come tonight, it’s going to be with your pussy strangling my cock.”
Oh.
The word lands and I go still, not frozen. Listening. Every part of me wide awake.
Beck doesn’t rush to explain himself. He doesn’t soften it. He just holds my gaze, steady and unflinching, like he knows exactly where this is going and isn’t afraid to wait for me to catch up.
Heat curls low in my stomach. Not surprise. Not doubt. Desire.
I lift my chin, meeting him there, and let my body answer.
Yes.
That’s all it takes.
Beck moves immediately, like the decision was already made. He’s on his feet and crossing the room before my breath evens out, returning with a small square of plastic in his hand.
A condom.
I sit up, move to the edge of the bed, and hold out my hand. “Here. Gimme.”
Beck lifts an eyebrow, but I just smile at him sweetly with my hand still extended. He hands over the package, and I place it on the bed beside me. I motion Beck to come closer. When he steps between my parted legs, I grab his hips and pull him in.
In this position, his erection is right in front of me.
Rigid and flushed, veins tracing down the side.
I look up at Beck, who stares back with an expression that’s impossibly tender.
Without breaking that eye contact, I lower my head and take him into my mouth.
First, I twirl my tongue over his tip, watching how his eyes slide closed with pleasure.
He groans, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. I work myself deeper, bouncing, moving farther down with every bob of my head.
Beck’s hands slide into my hair as I work him, not to force me or guide me, but just to hold on.
I move faster until his breath becomes ragged and his hips tremble.
Finally, he gently stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
I open the condom package and roll it on, noting how he’s grown harder, thicker. Beck reaches down, strokes himself with the condom on, and the sight sends another rush of heat through me. I like it. Seeing him like this, undone enough to do that in front of me.
I think back to the bar, to how he admitted he touches himself while he thinks of me, and my stomach flips to know that even before tonight I was tied to his pleasure.
That realization only makes this more inevitable.
Beck helps me move back onto the bed, until I’m settled with my head on the pillow. He’s back between my legs but this time with his cock notched at my entrance. He reaches out and trails the back of his hand along my cheek, and I lean into it.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
“We’ve waited long enough.” I grab his hips and urge him forward.
His tip slides into me, and then the rest of him follows slowly. He doesn’t rush, just eases in and lets my body adjust before pressing a little deeper. By the time he’s halfway there, my hips are moving too, lifting to meet his, drawing him in with each steady motion.
Beck gazes down at me, his lip caught between his teeth as everything between us speeds up. I meet his gaze, wanting him to see me, to know we’re falling together.
“I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, his voice thick. “You’re here. You’re real.” He traces my jaw, like he needs proof of me under his fingers.
“So are you,” I whisper back, my hands on him, pulling him closer, closer until our foreheads are pressed together, then our lips.
When he moves against me now, it’s fast and hard. Nearing the end, Beck unleashes, heat and weight and promise pressing me back. My body answers instantly, my heart thundering in my chest. He reaches between us to circle my clit gently, then with more pressure.
“Yes,” I murmur, my eyes drifting closed as everything else falls away. “Right there.”
He groans and kisses me, his hand still on me, his body still moving with mine. He picks up the pace, quicker and quicker, as the tension coils tight inside me. My hands grab at him, wrap around his back, holding him close.
Everything builds, higher, tighter, until I come undone, crying out his name.
Beck answers with a throaty groan as he follows right behind me, emptying into the condom.
He half collapses on me, then rolls off to lay at my side. For a few seconds, neither of us says anything. We’re both catching our breath, the room quiet except for the soft sound of it, inhale, exhale, slowly syncing back up.
Beck is the first to move. He takes off the condom and throws it away.
Then he’s back, with a towel to clean us both up.
Once that’s done, he reaches for me without hesitation, pulling me into his chest like it’s instinctive, like this is where I belong now that everything else has settled.
His arm wraps around my shoulders, firm and sure, and I tuck myself against him easily, my cheek resting over his heart.
It’s still racing.
“Hey,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along my arm. Gentle. Careful. “You okay?”
I smile into his skin. “Totally okay.” Then I add, because it feels important, “Really. I’m…happy.”
He lets out a breath that sounds like relief, like he’d been holding it just in case. His grip tightens a fraction, protective without being possessive, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he admits. “Sometimes I convinced myself it was just habit. Or history. But it wasn’t.” He tips his forehead against my temple. “It was you. Always you.”
Something warm and tight settles in my chest.
“I was nervous,” he admits after a beat. “Not about wanting you. Just…about doing it right.”
I turn slightly in his arms, just enough to tuck my face into the hollow of his throat. “You did.”
His hand tightens a fraction. “Yeah?”
“Yes,” I tell him. “It felt like you.”
That makes him smile. I can hear it in the way his breath changes. He rests his forehead against the back of my head.
“You know you’re spending the night, right?”
“I’d better.” I smile into his chest. “I expect a big breakfast.”
His laugh is quiet and pleased. “Deal.”
I let out a sigh, my eyelids growing heavy. “I’m making the toast, though. You always burn it.”
Beck laughs again. He runs his hand down my arm, soft and grounding. “You can make all the toast, all the mornings, Gracie Ann. I’ll make the coffee.”
Sleep comes for me then, soft and dark, and the last thing I think is that we didn’t cross a line tonight. Beck and me.
We came home.