Chapter 41
FORTY-ONE
HOLD MY HEART
Addison
I didn’t remember falling asleep. Beckett and I got out of the shower and went straight to bed. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open after our earlier excitement.
But just before I’d drifted off, I’d felt Beckett’s tender touch against my forearm. A habit he’d picked up without me saying more than I already had. Every night we were together—which was becoming more and more often as the weeks passed—he rubbed my arm until we both finally fell asleep.
Nothing about that night was different, which was why when I woke up I was surprised to find the bed beside me empty.
Searching for Beckett, my hand landed on cold air and sheets.
I glanced around the room and blinked the sleep from my eyes as I peered out the window to my right and behind the bed. It was still pitch black.
I reached for my phone on the bedside table. It was a little past three in the morning, so by all accounts, Beckett should have still been asleep. I responded to Bri’s text wishing me a Happy New Year before I slipped out of bed.
I threw on the first thing I found—one of Beckett’s T-shirts—and opened the bedroom door, peering down the quiet, dark hallway.
Nothing appeared out of place. I started down the hallway, intent on looking first in the room Beckett had pointed out was his when he was younger, when I stopped just at the top of the stairs.
Down on the first floor, I heard the quiet click of computer keys before I saw the faint light from the study near the front door.
I padded down the stairs on nearly silent feet and peeked around the corner into the study.
Shelves and shelves full of books lined the walls.
Each one was thick and sturdy, made from a dark wood that appeared handcrafted.
There was a large, intricate rug in the center of the room, made mostly of red and cream thread, which complemented the dark wood desk that sat atop it. The desk Beckett sat behind.
He was facing the open double French doors, but he didn’t see me even as I stepped into view.
All his attention was intent on his laptop in front of him.
He had one hand on his wireless mouse while the other was propped beneath his chin.
I took another step into the room without him noticing.
There was a definitive crease between his brows, and I could see the tension across his bare chest and exposed shoulders.
By the time I was halfway across the rug and still hadn’t garnered his attention, I decided to clear my throat. Finally, his eyes shot up, and the moment he saw me, all the tension I’d noticed slipped from his body. An easy smile slid into place as he leaned back in the leather chair.
It made me feel good to know that I had such an effect on him. That just my presence seemed to make his stress disappear. He did the same for me. I always felt more at ease with him around.
“You’re supposed to be asleep, baby girl,” Beckett murmured in a deep voice as I rounded the desk.
He turned in his chair to face me, and I took a moment to take him in before I took another step.
His tanned chest was broad, and I could see the defined muscles of his biceps and his tattoos as he planted his hands on each of the armrests of the wide chair.
There was a decent amount of scruff along his jaw, but it was too dark in the study to see the dusting of gray among the mostly dark hair.
But I knew it was there from memory alone.
I could also tell that his hair—which had grown quickly in the past few months and now touched the top of his shoulders—had still been wet when we’d laid down. It always dried wavier when he went to sleep with it wet.
Done with my perusal for the moment, I took two final steps and closed the distance between us, settling between his strong, spread legs. The soft fabric of his sweatpants brushed my bare skin.
“So are you, Daddy,” I whispered back, and Beckett licked his lips to try to contain his smile.
He leaned forward and grasped my hips, letting his head rest between my breasts.
My nails dragged through his hair, and I felt him sigh against me as I peered over at his computer screen. “You were working?”
He nodded and fell back into his chair. still letting one hand linger on my waist. “Yeah, some work stuff came up, and when I couldn’t sleep, I figured I’d get a jump on reviewing everything.”
“You couldn’t sleep?”
He shook his head and stared at the screen. “No, and I didn’t want to disturb you by tossing and turning.”
I could tell by the tightness in his jaw and the far-off look in his eyes that there was something more he wasn’t telling me.
“Was it because of anything we did?”
“No, no,” Beckett said quickly. He laced his fingers with mine and tugged me down to his lap, urging me to straddle his thighs, which I eagerly did.
Both hands steadfast on my hips, I rested mine on his shoulders.
The leather desk chair was large enough that I easily slid my legs on either side of his hips and settled on top of his lap.
“It was fucking perfect, Bubbles,” he continued. “Every second was better than I imagined. Better than I dreamed.”
“Good,” I agreed. That was exactly what I’d hoped for.
Yes, it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to do it that night, but I had been thinking about it for a while.
Hell, when else would we have had the opportunity to be miles from anyone else who might be curious if they heard me scream?
“Do you still want to talk about it? Or your work stuff? Would you rather I leave you alone?”
“Never.” There was no question in his voice, and to make his point even clearer, his hands tightened on my waist. “I like you close. Like I said, I just didn’t want to wake you.”
“But now I’m here, so…”
“I was just thinking about what the next year might look like. What I might want it to look like.”
I tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear and smoothed the lines between his brows as he spoke. His hands were steadfast against my waist, and his thumbs traced idle patterns against my hips.
“What do you think the next year will look like?”
His eyes raked over my face, and I could see the thoughts rushing through his mind.
“Work wise, we have some things that need to be handled,” he began, “but after that, I’m hoping we’ll be in an even better position.
It’s going to be rough for the next few months, but my brother and I will figure it out…
” His words tapered off as my fingers ghosted over his stubble, and I knew there was more.
“Work is going to be rough?” I asked, and he shrugged but shook his head.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” he said with a forced smile. “Besides that, all I really want out of this next year is to both start and end it with you,” he whispered. “Because I don’t know if you can tell, baby girl, but you hold my heart in your hands.”
My breath caught in the back of my throat, and my hands stilled against his face.
I could feel the sincerity and warmth in every word and see it in his eyes.
His jaw went slack, lips parting like he was preparing to say something more, but as quickly as the thought appeared, it was like he decided better of it.
A tentative, hopeful smile curved his lips, and I traced the edge of it with my thumb, not trying to keep my own grin hidden.
“You hold mine, too, Beckett. You have it,” I whispered.
He wrapped his arms around my back and tugged me even closer, dropping his head to my chest and kissing where his T-shirt covered my heart. “What about you, baby girl? What do you think the next year will look like?”
His lips lingered over the fabric, and I knew he could feel the steady, unmistakable thump of the organ he now owned.
Giving in to the bigness of the moment, I closed my arms around his shoulders and held him to me.
While I contemplated his question, we sat like that, just holding one another and breathing each other in.
And I’d never felt so connected to another person.
“There are so many things I want this year,” I said honestly.
“Starting and ending it with you would be amazing, and I really…I really want to go to the beach.” I sucked in a breath and appreciated that Beckett didn’t pull back to peer up at me.
“I’ve never been, because it was a little too expensive for us to manage and also because of my parents.
They loved the beach and the water, but when they died, I couldn’t bring myself to go there.
But I think I might be ready now. With you. ”
He hummed against me and kissed my neck before he sat back. He cupped my cheeks and smiled up at me. I loved the way he looked at me. Like I was the center of his world or a primary element in the air he breathed. Like without me, he wouldn’t be whole.
“Then we’ll go to the beach,” he said simply, and it was all I needed to hear. I knew he would make good on the promise.
He kissed me softly once, then again. It was sweet, but as it usually did, it didn’t remain sweet for long. Our hands wandered, and our tongues tangled.
I felt Beckett’s cock stir to life beneath me, a hard rod that I couldn’t ignore even if I wanted to. And well, I didn’t want to anyway.
Rather, I ground down harder on him, pressing my bare pussy against the thin fabric covering his dick. He groaned in response, leaning back and peering up at me under hooded eyes.
“Aren’t you sore, baby girl?”
I nodded but didn’t stop grinding back and forth against him.
The swollen head of him pressed against my clit, and pleasure speared through me.
I was fairly sore, between my legs and everywhere else, but that didn’t stop me from raking my nails down the side of Beckett’s neck and over his chest, grazing his nipple enough to make him jump.