Chapter 15
Beck
After dinner, Eleanor helps me clean up and I relish in the domesticity of it all.
She belongs here, with me, in this home.
I don’t know how I’ll ever convince her of that, or when I’d even have the courage to suggest it, but I know I want a life just like this, with Eleanor.
I feel like I can really make her happy, hopefully as happy as she makes me.
Putting the last plate away, Eleanor leans back against the counter, the moonlight shining down on the dark ocean behind her framing her like the prettiest of pictures. “We didn’t finish the game, but we both know I was going to win,” she teases.
A slow smile creeps across my mouth. “I had a strategy. I was enjoying watching you back yourself into a corner.”
Eleanor narrows her eyes at me playfully. “Sure you were. We’ll just need to have a rematch another time. But all this to say that as the projected winner, I get to choose where to sleep tonight, and I’ve decided I’ll take the couch.”
“No, you won’t,” I state, refusing to accept that as an option. “You take the bed. I’ll stay down here.”
Eleanor crosses her arms over her perfect, full breasts, and my mind strays directly to all kinds of filthy thoughts about what they’ll look like if I happen to take off that silky camisole of hers, wondering what they’ll feel like in my hands, imagining myself playing with them, sucking on them, and—
“That’s definitely not happening,” Eleanor says, effectively cutting off that train of thought. “You’re too tall and won’t fit. I’ll take the couch.”
I shake my head, not seeing the need to even have this conversation. “Over my dead body. You’ve had a bad day. I’m not letting you sleep on that uncomfortable thing.”
Eleanor chews on her lip for a second, then she meets my eyes, a pretty pink spreading across her cheeks. “We can share the bed?” she suggests shyly.
“That makes a lot more sense. Come.” I take Eleanor’s hand and lead her up toward the mezzanine level, then point at my bed. “This is the bed. I like to sleep on the right, but I can switch if you prefer that side.”
“The left is good with me. I get to see the sunrise first then,” Eleanor says, taking a look around the sparsely decorated room, pausing to lift onto her toes and staring out the eastern window facing the darkened island.
Too late, I realize I don’t have any curtains up here. I’ve never had anyone in this bedroom before, never mind having them stay over, so the thought has never crossed my mind. What if Eleanor feels uncomfortable? Should I hang a sheet to create some kind of covering?
I try to see my bedroom through Eleanor’s eyes, hoping I don’t disappoint her too much.
My bed has a simple navy duvet with gray pillows placed against a headboard made from reclaimed wood.
The brown from the stone walls and the brown of the floorboards might be too masculine for her taste, but if Eleanor ever decides to stay with me, I’d be happy to change things—everything, if she wants.
On the windowsill, I’ve placed a couple of plants, one being lavender that I requested from Annamae recently, and the others a mix of herbs I use for baking. Maybe it’s odd that they’re in my bedroom, but I like their smell and I didn’t think much of it before now.
Nerves climb up my throat, threatening to take my ability to speak, my hands getting clammy as I wait for Eleanor to say something.
Rescuing me in the nick of time, Eleanor squeezes my hand. “It’s really cozy up here, calm. Thank you for letting me stay.”
I breathe out a huge sigh of relief and cup her face with my free hand, “Anytime.”
We stay frozen like that for a long moment, letting my offer settle before I ask, “Can I give you something to change into?”
Eleanor laughs. “Have you seen my boobs or my butt? There’s no way your clothes will fit me, but thank you for the thought.”
That surely can’t be a serious question, could it? Of course I’ve seen her beautifully curvaceous figure. I fantasize about it almost every night.
Before I have enough time to form an adequate response, Eleanor tucks her hair behind her ear, her gaze somewhere around her feet, as she asks, “Is it okay if I sleep in my camisole and underwear? It’s only that I don’t think I should sleep in my work clothes because I’d have nothing to wear tomorrow if they get all wrinkled.
I just… I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable.
You don’t have to look, maybe close your eyes while I quickly get under the covers? ”
“Why wouldn’t I want to look?” Letting my eyes leisurely travel over every single one of her lush curves, I answer honestly, “I can say I’ve noticed everything about you. You’re absolutely delightful to look at.”
Eleanor’s scent blossoms and I breathe it in deeply, enjoying the effect my words have on her.
This evening was the first time I was able to properly scent her arousal, and traces of it have surely embedded themselves into my home.
The fact that I’ll get to be reminded of what transpired on my kitchen table, even when she’s not here, makes the thought of the looming week without her a little more bearable.
Though, I’d have to air the house out tomorrow before the guys get here. I don’t particularly like the thought of them knowing what she smells like, even less if they were to bring it up in conversation.
Wait, is this what Bodin feels like when I comment on Tilly’s scent? I will need to watch what I say to him in the future.
“You really want to look?” Eleanor asks, shifting her wide-eyed gaze to me.
“Should I say no? Would that make you feel better?” I ask, not sure what to do right now.
Eleanor looks up at me and takes my hands in hers.
“Beck, you’ve just made my day. Well, you made my day by showing up in Cape Easton in less time than I thought possible, and then you made it by kissing me until I forgot that I’m supposed to be scared of the ocean, and then… Well, this is the cherry on top.”
I move Eleanor’s hands to my waist and glide my fingers up her bare arms until I cup her face between both of my hands.
“Would you like it if I told you more often how pretty you are? How beautiful you look when you wear those dresses with the tiny straps? How dirty my thoughts get when I imagine what you’d look like without any of it on? ”
Eleanor’s heart races faster and faster, her pupils dilating and her breathing shallow. “Yeah? I wouldn’t mind hearing more of those thoughts.”
I trace her bottom lip with my thumb. “Okay. Get in bed and I’ll tell you more.”
Leaning forward, Eleanor takes my thumb into her mouth and sucks lightly on it before she backs out of my embrace. My heart stutters and my jaw drops at the move. I want her to do that again, but this time on my cocks, but I quickly remind myself that tonight isn’t about me or my wants.
Holding my gaze, Eleanor unbuttons her black slacks and slowly strips them off, laying them neatly over the back of the chair.
My dragon hums in approval, just as excited to have Eleanor here, and sends as a cascade of scales down my torso and toward my cocks. The scales don’t fade away this time. I can feel their hardness rubbing against my clothes, but there’s no discomfort, no need to fight my dragon on this.
I’ll take good care of her, I promise him. Satisfied with my answer, he makes himself scarce, disappearing within my chest as my eyes graze down Eleanor’s gorgeous thick thighs, my hard cocks stiffening even further.
“Fuck, you’re a dream,” I breathe out, unsure if the words are audible to Eleanor.
She unclips her bra under her white camisole and in some strange move, pulls it off without removing the upper layer. Eleanor groans with relief the second her bra is off, her breasts now free and finally taking their natural form.
This image of Eleanor has me salivating, and I reach down to adjust my cocks, not wanting any more attention on them. This is all about Eleanor. The woman who looks like she’s stepped out of a classical painting by a very gifted artist, only to grace me with her presence.
Tonight, my only focus is her. I want to give Eleanor a reason to be happy she came here, a reason to come back often. I want to enjoy every tiny detail, cement it in my mind so I can remember it forever.
I remain still as Eleanor slowly pads toward the bed. When she notices the weight of my gaze, it’s as if confidence is poured down her spine, her steps getting surer as she saunters the final distance. It makes me so proud of her, because Eleanor has absolutely nothing to be shy about.
“Your turn,” Eleanor says, her eyes devouring me as I reach for the buttons of my shirt.
I take my time, meticulously unbuttoning my shirt, reveling in Eleanor’s attention and feeling like I’m soaring above the ocean with the power of her attraction for me.
I turn my back on her only long enough to hide my cocks as I pull on my loose sleeping pants, then I flick off the mill’s main light, plunging my home into darkness except for the lamp on Eleanor’s side of the bed.
Letting the peaceful sound of the waves lapping at the shore wash over me, I welcome the familiar creaks of the mill’s gears, the occasional groans of the ceiling’s wooden beams to soothe any nerves that might stand in my way to make Eleanor feel truly appreciated.
I still can’t believe my luck that I have my childhood best friend here, in my bedroom, when I once thought I’d never see her again. I’m not about to let fate down for giving us a second chance.
Stopping at the foot of the bed, I grin down at the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. “Lie down, my lovely Eleanor. Let me tell you the story of your beauty.”
Eleanor sucks in a shaky breath, but she does what I ask, scooting down from her spot against the headboard until she’s lying flat on her back.
I get in next to her and prop myself up on one elbow. “Is it okay if I touch you a little while I tell you which parts I like the most?”