Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Beckett
The wink may have been a touch too cocky, but after the way she trusted me and opened up, I was fucking soaring.
All I wanted was to make her feel good, and I accomplished that.
The sated, dazed look on her face awakens something inside me. I want to be her safe spot for as long as I can be. I want to chase away every insecurity and break down every stubborn barrier she’s built over the years.
Her flushed, freckled cheeks, kiss-bitten lips, disheveled hair, and bare body spread out over the bed are the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. I want to do nothing more than explore every curve, line, and edge of her softness.
This is the beginning of the end for me. Josephine will ruin me for everyone else.
And I’m okay with that.
Her dark lashes lie fanned against her flushed cheeks while her eyes, wide and soft, find mine and remain like that, wholly consuming me, as I take the foil packet from my pocket and push down my sweatpants.
Once I’ve rolled the latex over my length, I kneel on the bed, my knees sinking into the mattress, then rest my forearms on either side of her head, framing her face like a priceless, living portrait.
Her dark hair spills over the pillow, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. The lamp’s glow highlights the gentle lines of her collarbone, the dip between her breasts, and the soft curve of her waist.
She’s perfect in every way.
Propped up on one arm, I fist my cock and run it over her slick core.
She writhes at the sensation, back arching and seeking more friction.
A breath shudders out of me. “Are you ready for me?”
“I’ve been ready,” she pants, hooking a leg around my lower back and pulling me to her.
Slowly, I push inside her, welcomed by her warmth.
She gasps, gripping my shoulders as I gently work myself deeper.
The way her nails dig into my shoulders, biting into my skin, unlocks something raw inside me—an unbearable longing to belong to her and only her. To give her every piece of me. The pieces I’ve been too scared to give to anyone else.
“It’s too much,” she pants.
“Look at me,” I command, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her forehead. “Breathe, Josephine.” With two fingers, I circle her swollen clit. Her eyes flutter shut, dark lashes sweeping across her pink cheeks.
A soft, breathy moan escapes from her parted lips, and her muscles relax, allowing me to fully sink into her.
“Look at you,” I groan. “You’re taking me so well.”
With both legs wrapped around my waist, she presses her heels into the small of my back, inviting me to take her deeper.
With every thrust, she clenches around me.
It’s an intoxicating combination of pressure and heat.
As I quicken my pace, rolling my hips and stroking her clit, her breathy gasps grow louder, filling the room.
When her legs quiver around me, I focus on keeping my rhythm, my focus set on getting her to come a second time, cataloging every flicker of pleasure that paints her beautiful features.
To pull pleasure like this from her has until now only been a fantasy during sleepless nights.
Tonight I’m determined to make it a reality.
Eyes shut and panting, she drags her nails down my back in erratic strokes, and then she tightens around me, letting out a cry. Seconds later, she surrenders to her orgasm as it consumes her quivering body. “Beckett,” she cries out, voice breaking with raw emotion as she arches off the bed.
At the sound of my name on her lips like this, pride and satisfaction overflow inside me.
After she comes down, she places her hand over my beating heart, then trails her fingers up to my cheek. Attention fixed on my face, she pulls me down and takes me in a breathtaking, bruising kiss.
That soul-stealing kiss is my undoing. She is my undoing.
My own climax crashes into me with a relentless force, stealing the breath from my lungs, my cock pulsing inside her, the sensation consuming me. Leaving me trembling, panting, and wanting more.
With my mouth still firmly on hers, my thoughts narrow until all I focus on is her.
The warmth of her skin.
The sound of her voice.
The way her heart beats against my own.
Pulling my lips away, I drop my forehead to hers and suck in a breath.
The way she clings to me speaks volumes. Legs and arms both wrapped around me in a possessive embrace, as if she’s worried I’ll drift away. Our warm, damp bodies meld into one like two desolate roads converging after a long, lonely journey.
I don’t want to lose this. This moment with her.
I don’t want her to let me go. Eyes closed, I focus on the way her arms feel around me, the way her heart steadily beats against my chest, and the way her breath trails across my skin.
Eventually, she loosens her grip, her fingers sliding down my back in a tender caress before falling onto the bed.
It takes all my restraint not to pull her back
“I think I forgot my name for a moment.” She giggles, covering her eyes with the back of her hand. The lightness of her tone makes me want to kiss her again.
So I do.
It’s slow and languid, igniting another flame inside me. “That’s because you were too busy screaming mine,” I murmur against her lips.
She playfully shoves me off her. “You cocky son of a bitch.” Then she’s on top of me, straddling me, looking picture perfect. She’s all smooth skin and smiles as she drags her fingertips down my chest and abs, studying the ink covering my body.
I can’t help but let out a deep groan, appreciating the view of her magnificent tits.
Fuck. Me. Her soft, curvy body is an absolute fantasy.
Smirking, she waves her hand in front of my face. “Hey. Hello. Eyes are up here. Did you not get your fill of me yet?”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “No. No, I didn’t.”
She tips her head back, a heartfelt laugh bubbling out of her. “Okay. Well, before we go for round two, I need something to eat.”
Round two? There’s going to be a round two?
I decide not to question her.
She slides off me, then pads over to the bathroom and shuts the door behind her. I take a moment to discard the condom and gather our scattered clothes off the floor.
A few minutes later, she walks out in a plush bathrobe.
The corners of my mouth kick up into a smile. “I’ll make something to eat. Go wait for me in the kitchen while I get cleaned up.”
She breaks into a shy smile, those full freckled cheeks I love so much taking on a light pink hue.
As I pass her, I press a kiss to her temple.
When I emerge from her room, I find her actually playing with Barbara, dangling the cat’s favorite fish toy, wearing a bright smile.
When she senses me, she takes me in from head to toe, lingering mostly on my bare chest beneath my cardigan.
“Heads up, if you continue walking around looking like that”—she waves her finger at me—“we may not leave this cottage.”
Shrugging, I wander into the kitchen. “Not sure I see an issue with that.”
When I pull a box of macaroni and cheese from the cabinet, she tilts her head, her eyes narrowing. “You’re just full of surprises tonight. Mr. you need a decent meal and can’t survive off snacks likes boxed mac and cheese?”
At the sink, I fill a pot with water. “Do you not?”
“Oh, I do. A lot. But—”
“Let me guess. Only with ketchup?” I peer back at her as I set the pot on the stove. “What is it with you and that condiment?”
In classic Joey fashion, she rears back with a dramatic flair. “Don’t shame me for enjoying such a versatile condiment. One, I may add, with a complex flavor profile. It enhances the flavor of everything.”
I spin around, settling my hands on the island. “Tell me you don’t dip your steak in ketchup.”
She clutches her chest. “Jesus, no. I’m actually offended you’d think so poorly of me.”
With a shake of my head, I whisper, “So dramatic.”
Eyes twinkling, she angles in. “Mm-hmm. But I think you like it.”
She’s absolutely not wrong. I like her more than she probably realizes.
“You know,” she says, scratching Barbara’s chin, “the faster you cook for me, the faster I’ll get on my knees for you.”
Heart lurching, I straighten. “Y-yes, ma’am. I’ll get right to work.”
Her playful chuckle fills the dimly lit kitchen as I turn up the heat of the burner, wondering how I can get these damn noodles to boil faster.
“Sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” she blurts out. “I was trying to be funny.”
Turning around, I level her with a concerned look. “Joey, I have a serious question for you. But you don’t have to answer it if you’re not comfortable.”
She catches her bottom lip with her teeth, suddenly looking anxious. “Okay.”
Slowly, I press my thumb to her lip, pulling it free. “Why do you apologize for things that don’t deserve an apology?”
Swallowing audibly, she ducks her head, focusing on her hands in her lap.
“I’ve always thought that I’m too much,” she finally says, her voice on the verge of breaking.
“Too loud. Too persistent. Too talkative. Too caring. Too sensitive. Just too much of everything.” She lets out a bitter laugh.
“In the seventh grade, this kid yelled at me from across the hall saying that I was so annoying and that I annoyed everyone around me. I guess it kind of stuck with me.”
I cover her hands with mine to get her to stop wringing them. “Want me to find them and kick their ass?”
That gets a genuine laugh out of her.
“Listen, I’ve seen some shit in ER,” I go on. “I think I could pull it off without getting caught.”
She shakes her head, her lips curling in a sad smile. “I try to push it aside and act like I don’t care. But I do, and I think I always will. It doesn’t help when certain people only reinforce those insecurities.” She sniffles.
The sound of sizzling water splashing onto the burner interrupts us. Quickly, I bring her hands to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “I want you to tell me more. I want to hear everything. But I also don’t want to burn down the cottage. Or the forest behind us.”
Chuckling, she covers her face. “Ugh. I’m so sor—”
I tug her hands away and duck so she’s forced to look at me. “Josephine.”
Her head snaps up, and with half a smirk, she pretends to zip her lips.
When the macaroni and cheese is done, I set a bowl in front of her. And when I snag the ketchup from the fridge, her face lights up.
As we eat in silence, the sound of clinking forks on plates surrounding us, I peer over at her, hoping she’ll open back up.
But knowing her, she probably thinks she’s a burden to me.
If I had to guess, she thinks her feeling any type of emotion is a burden to others.
For me, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. She thinks she’s too much? Frankly, I can’t get enough. If anything, I want more of her.
Clearing my throat, I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Now that you’re fed and watered, we should continue our conversation.” I push my plate away and rest my elbows on the counter.
With a huff, she rolls her eyes. “Do we have to?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
“You know, this bossiness is making me feel some type of way.” She smirks, opening up her bathrobe, giving me a peek at what she’s hiding underneath.
Which is nothing but bare, silky skin waiting to be touched.
Don’t look down. Don’t fall for it. She’s baiting you.
I narrow my eyes at her. “Josephine. Don’t deflect.”
Tipping her head back, she lets out a long sigh and tightens her robe.
“Okay, okay, fine. I worry about being me. Authentically. Because. . .” She presses her lips together, looking away from me.
“Because all my life, I’ve never been chosen.
In sports, friendships, relationships—you name it, I’m picked fourth or fifth.
I don’t even make it in the top three. It seems like I’m always picked last, and I wonder if I’m the problem.
I like who I am, but if others don’t, then maybe I need to change.
Take Norma.” She sighs. “She didn’t like me from the start, and I’ve been nothing but nice and professional. ”
My heart plummets to the floor. The mere thought that she’s been made to believe she’s anything less than extraordinary is upsetting on so many levels.
The way her voice breaks and her shoulders curl unravels a protectiveness inside me.
“First of all, Norma has her own issues to work through. It sounds like she may need to talk to a professional about her. . .encyclopedia of issues.”
Joey gives me a sad smile.
“Second, you’re in good company,” I say. “I was never anyone’s first choice, either.”
Understanding and relief wash over her face. “Really?”
“Mm-hmm.” I nod. “Senior year in high school, a girl asked me to prom as a dare.”
Joey leans in closer. “Isn’t that from a movie?”
I scrub a palm down my face, chuckling. “Unfortunately. They thought it was funny, though. Joke’s on them, because when I took my glasses off, I didn’t get hotter like the protagonist usually does.”
With a small smile, she reaches over the counter and grabs my hand. “I would’ve asked you to prom. Glasses or no glasses, it wouldn’t have mattered to me.”
Of course it wouldn’t have. Because she has this remarkable ability to see a person for who they are beneath the surface. She can identify the layers of complexity hiding there. Complexities that never deter her from showing people grace and kindness, no matter how cruel the world is to her.
I give her hand a squeeze, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and never let go. “You’d be my first choice if I were to go to prom.”
Joey playfully rolls her eyes. “That’s just the OxiClean talking because we had sex.”
Confusion swirls in my brain, and I need a solid thirty seconds to decode her statement before it dawns on me. “Do you mean oxytocin?”
She frowns, puzzled. “Is that the thing that gets released during sex? If so, then yes.”
God, she’s fucking adorable.
I bite back a laugh. “Yes, that’s the hormone that gets released. Along with serotonin, dopamine, and endorphins.”
“You’re in luck,” she chirps. “I happen to be lacking all of those, so I guess we should get back to it. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
Heart thudding against my ribcage, I slide off my chair and cup her face. Kissing her deeply, I savor her soft lips and her warm skin.
“What was that for?” she asks when I pull back.
“I really like this.” I tap gently on her temple. “And this.” This time I tap her chest, over her heart. “Never change. Promise me that.” Because Joey’s heart and mind are to be cherished.
Eyes shimmering with unshed tears, she nods. “I promise.”