Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
SKYLA
T he movie he chose isn’t horrible. There’s a lot of gratuitous blood and a lot of running, but the hero is handsome, so there’s that.
We had another delicious meal of leftovers from last night, keeping it simple, and we’ve been curled up on his sectional couch with pillows and blankets, watching TV for the better part of an hour. It’s already dark outside, but Beckett closed the blinds, so it feels like we’re in a cozy cocoon.
My scalp still practically tingles with joy from the way he tenderly washed and dried my hair for me. It felt a million times better than going to a salon, and from the look on his face while he did it, I’d say that he might have enjoyed it more than I did.
And that’s saying something because I wasn’t joking when I said he could do that as often as he wants.
I lean further into Beck’s side, nuzzling his chest against my cheek. I love how solid he feels against me, how warm and strong, and he smells so fecking good.
His lips are planted in my hair, and there’s an explosion on the screen when suddenly, everything goes black. We’re shrouded in immediate silence and darkness, and my heart kicks up as panic settles over my nerves.
“Shit,” Beckett mutters as he stands, probably to check what happened.
It’s so dark.
It feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest, and my side, where he was, is now ice-cold without his warmth. I start to shake, and the breath leaves my lungs.
Riley starts to whine.
“It’s okay, boy,” Beck says from across the room.
“He’s looking for the lights.” I swallow hard. My voice sounds thready. “He thinks he has to turn on the lights.”
“Can you call him to you?” he asks, and I can hear the concern in his deep voice.
“Riley, come.”
The dog jumps onto the couch and covers my lap. He’s a huge, heavy dog, but I need him right now because this absolute darkness…
I bolt upright in bed. What’s that noise? “Feck, where’s my bloody phone?”
There’s no light. I can’t see my hand in front of my face, and I am not okay. I. Need. Light.
Is someone in my apartment?
“It’s okay, Irish,” Beckett says, keeping his voice calm. “I’m grabbing candles right now. Take a deep breath.”
But I can’t. I can’t fecking breathe, and I need lights. I need to be able to see.
Someone is there with me. Hovering in the darkness. Oh God, someone is here. That scent. I know that cologne.
“Hey, talk to me,” Beck says. I wish I could see him.
“Can’t.” I try to suck in air. Riley whines and shoves his head in my chest.
Finally, there’s the flicker of a lighter, and a candle is lit. Beckett lights at least half a dozen more and sets them around the room, casting a soft glow, and then crosses back to me and sits beside me, but he doesn’t pull me to him. He takes my hand in his, squeezing it tight.
“I need you to breathe, Irish.” His eyes are pinned to mine, and he takes a deep inhale. I know I’m supposed to mimic him, but my lungs just don’t want to fill. “Tell me three things you see, Skyla.”
I frown but look around. “The pillow.”
“Good.”
I lick my lips. “That plant.”
“One more.” He’s rubbing his free hand up and down my arm.
“A book.”
“Good. Three things you can feel.”
“Scared.”
“No, baby, physical things. Do you feel the couch under you?”
I swallow hard and nod. “The couch. Riley shaking. Your hands.”
“Good girl.” He leans in and kisses my cheek. “Breathe, baby. Take a deep breath for me, okay?”
Finally, I’m able to fill my lungs with a shaky breath.
“That’s my girl. Tell me three things you can hear.”
I close my eyes and listen. “The wicks burning in the candles. The wind outside. Oh God, is that why the power is out?”
“One more thing, beautiful girl. Tell me one more thing.”
“Your voice.”
“Excellent. Another deep breath for me.”
He’s really good at this. At calming me down.
“Look in my eyes, Skyla.”
Following his orders, I gaze into his eyes, and feel my heart start to slow down just as my eyes fill with tears.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Beck takes my face in his hands and leans in to press his lips to my cheek, simply holding me there. “It’s okay.”
“I’m so embarrassed.”
“Shh. No, Irish. Don’t be. You already told me about this. You’re doing so great.”
“I’m a fecking mess.”
“You’re gorgeous.” He brushes his fingers through my hair and tips his forehead against mine. “Take another deep breath.”
We do it together, sucking in a long breath, and when I exhale it all out, I’m no longer shaking.
I rub Riley and hold him against me in a hug as Beckett pulls back just a bit.
“You’re a good boy.” I kiss Riley’s cheek and rub his sides, and he calms down, too.
“I’m getting a fucking generator,” Beckett says, his voice a little harder now that I’m calming down.
“You don’t have to?—”
“It’s happening.” He shakes his head, and when Riley moves off my lap, Beckett pulls me into his, holding me tight. “I’m so sorry you were scared.”
“It’s not your fault.” Brushing my fingertips through his whiskers, I kiss him gently, feeling like I need to soothe him the way he is me. “It’s my own PTSD from a terrifying, life-altering night, Beck. This was not as bad as it could have been.”
His eyes close as he wraps his arms tightly around me and holds me to him in a hug that has me calming.
The way this man touches me is extraordinary. We’ve only just started seeing each other, yet I feel so connected to him, I can’t imagine not being here like this.
Is it love at first sight? Is it just sexual chemistry? I have no idea, but I’m thankful. Few men would do what Beckett just did. Few men would know how to reach someone in the middle of a panic attack.
Few men are like Beckett Blackwell.
“Okay, we can’t watch TV,” Beck says as he kisses my neck. “I’ll read to you if you want. Did you bring a paperback or one of those doodads with e-books on them?”
Pulling back, I stare at him in surprise. “You will?”
“Sure. Why not?”
A thrill zips up my spine, and I bite my lip in anticipation. “Wow, okay. You’re going to read to me ?”
“Don’t look now, but I think that turns you on, Irish.”
“Oh, it absolutely, without a doubt, turns me on. I did bring my Kindle, and it’s upstairs in my bag.”
He kisses me before setting me on the couch, and then he’s jogging through the house and up the stairs, and I have to take a second to pull in another deep breath. The candles make the room look romantic, with the flicker of the flames, and now it doesn’t seem scary at all. It feels sweet and soft, and with the promise of Beckett reading me a spicy book, I’m completely content.
I hear his footsteps coming down the stairs, and he returns with the device in his hand. He turns it over and grins at the back.
“ Beg, Baby Girl ,” he says, reading one of the stickers aloud, and then raises an eyebrow and looks up at me.
Pressing my lips together, I shrug. “I told you I like spicy books.”
“Mm-hmm.” He sits next to me and pulls me against his side, then passes me the Kindle so I can wake it up for him.
“You can start this book from the beginning if you want, but I’m not too far in yet.”
“I’m fine. Give me a quick report of what’s happened so far. Also, I like that this screen lights up. Makes it less dark in here for you.”
I kiss his biceps as warmth moves through me. Being taken care of feels good.
“It’s called Dom by S.J. Tilly. Mafia romance. The hero’s name is Dominic, and hers is Valentine. Val for short. They met in an airport, happened to be on the same flight, and sat next to each other.”
“Handy,” he says, making me laugh.
“And entertaining, I might add. The whole flight has basically been foreplay, the sexual tension is thick , and now they’re in the next airport, and he just took her into a breastfeeding pod.”
Beckett frowns down at me. “Is she a mom?”
“No.” I bite my lip and shake my head, and I want to smile because I know exactly what’s about to happen.
“Then why … oh.”
“Yeah. That’s as far as I got.”
“Irish, are you telling me that I’m diving right into a sex scene?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t read it yet.” I giggle when he pins me in a stare that clearly says you have got to be kidding me. He clears his throat and starts to read.
The main characters, Dom and Val, go into the pod, and they are so bloody attracted to each other, it’s palpable. She gives him permission to touch her. They come together, kissing and making out, and it’s hot.
Beckett squirms and has to clear his throat again, and I lean my cheek against his biceps and close my eyes, imagining this intimate scene. Beckett’s voice is far sexier than what I’d been hearing in my head for Dom. It slides over me like warm molasses as he reads aloud. Imagine if he was a book narrator. Women would not be able to put the book down.
Listening to him describe the bench inside the room, her naked body as she straddles Dom, what she’s experiencing while he’s suckling her nipples is enough to make my breath catch. I feel like I’m there as Dom makes them both crazy with his attention to her breasts. Beckett’s almost growling out the words as she unfastens his shirt so she can see his tattoos.
The hero is hot. Covered in tattoos that I can clearly see in my head as Beckett reads. And then it starts to get really good and Beck’s voice gets rougher.
Dom strokes one finger up the length of my slit but doesn’t push in.
“I can’t wait to be inside you.” His finger slides the length again.
I pull his belt free from the buckle.
“I’m so tempted…” The first inch of his finger presses inside me. But he pulls it back out.
I whimper while I undo the button on his pants.
“But if I start now, you’ll be coming on my hand.” He traces his finger back up toward my clit.
I pull his zipper down.
“And I want you coming on my cock.”
I pull down the top of his boxers, and his dick pops free.
It’s so big and thick that it audibly slaps up against his hard stomach.
Beckett stops and stares down at me. “Really?”
“Hey, yours is that big,” I remind him. His eyes narrow on me, and his jaw tightens. I glide my hand over his rippling abs and feel them tense under my touch. “And your stomach is hard.”
He smirks and then continues.
Dom slides his other hand down my back, down the crease of my ass, and keeps going until his fingertips touch below me. One hand in front and one behind.
“Hold my cock steady,” Dom demands as he lifts me.
He lifts me off his lap.
“Hmm, nice,” I murmur and wiggle in my seat. “We love a strong man.”
“If you keep talking like that, Irish…”
“Read.” I kiss his biceps, and he shifts his attention back to the book.
His thighs are so thick, and I’m so much shorter, that even on my knees, I can’t get the height I need to get his dick inside me.
So he’s lifting me. By the vagina. One hand on either side of my entrance, holding me open.
“Enough.” Beckett tosses the Kindle aside. He pulls me over his lap until I’m straddling him, and his hands are firm on my arse, holding me against him.
His cock is hard in his sweats, and I grind down on him as he pushes his hips up and groans in my mouth.
“You’ll have to finish reading to me later,” I whisper against his lips. “If this is what happens.”
“It’s your sweet little body pressed against me, and the way you’re squirming… and I heard you licking your lips. Fuck me, Irish, you’d tempt a fucking saint, and I never claimed to be a saint. I need to be inside you more than I need to breathe.”
He rips my leggings so effortlessly that it makes me gasp.
“Take my cock out, baby.”
I bite my lip and do as I’m told, pushing the elastic of his sweats down and revealing his hard, thick cock. I can’t help but chuckle when it does, indeed, slap against his hard abs.
“Told you,” I mutter as he lifts me and pulls my panties to the side to rub his fingertips over my opening.
“Fuck, you’re wet.”
“I want you. It’s as simple as that,” I reply, but then he’s swearing under me. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have a condom down here.”
Earlier, he simply came in my mouth. And that was bloody sexy as hell. No one has ever done that before.
“I’m on birth control,” I inform him and bite my lip, suddenly feeling shy. “And it had been years before you.”
He sits up and cups my face, kissing me deeply. “Are you sure, baby?”
“Yes, Beck.”
Without another word, he presses his cock against me, and I’m so bloody wet that he slides right in. The stretch is delicious now and doesn’t sting like it did last night, and I can’t help the moan that comes out of my mouth as I sink over him.
“God, you take me so well,” he groans, and I clench around him. “So damn tight.”
I start to move, and I realize that this is the first time that we’ve been together and I’ve had any sort of physical control, so I take advantage of it. I roll my hips, grab the couch behind him for leverage, and start to move faster, up and down.
“Listen to that,” he murmurs before lifting my shirt and tossing it aside, then licking one of my tight nipples. “You’re goddamn delicious.”
The next thing I know, he’s looped his arm around my waist, and I’m on my back, my legs pushed up, my knees into my chest, with Beck’s face in my core, and an orgasm is right there, ready to consume me .
“Beck!”
“That’s right.” He licks and sucks, and I thrash my head from side to side. “God, you’re so fucking wet for me. You taste incredible.”
His mouth is going to be my undoing.
“You’re not going to come on my face, Irish.”
I hate to break it to him, but it sure feels like I am.
“You’re going to come on my cock.”
“Beck.”
I’m tugging on his shoulders, needing him to move up and push inside me. He hears my unspoken request and kisses his way up my body. He bites a nipple, then has my legs over his shoulders, and he’s inside me again, kissing me.
“Taste yourself. I want you to taste how incredible you are, baby.”
It’s too much. His words, his cock, and the taste of myself overwhelm me, and I swear that I explode into a million pieces, seeing stars and feeling like I’m breaking apart.
With a roar, Beck follows me over, rocking through his climax, and then we’re a tangled, heaving, spent beautiful mess.
And when he raises his head to smile down at me, my heart catches.
“If you’re trying to kill me”—I have to swallow hard—“you’re doing a good job of it, a ghrá .”
He smirks and drags his nose down my jawline, making me shiver. “What did that mean?”
I swallow hard again and frown. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“It’s just an Irish term of endearment.”
He growls against my skin. “Did you know that your accent gets heavier when you’re turned on?”
I smirk and hug him to me as another shiver rolls through me. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
“Are you cold?” he asks.
“No, those are post-orgasmic tremors.”
He snorts and sucks on my neck, and that only makes my core tighten again.
“Beck.”
“Yes, Irish?”
“You’re heavy.”
He doesn’t pull away, but he does brace himself on his elbows to take some of his weight off me.
And then, like magic, the power comes back on again. I hear the fridge kick on in the kitchen, and the hum of electricity settles around us. Beck lifts his face to look at me.
“Our sexy bubble is over,” I whisper, feeling disappointed as I drag my fingers through his whiskers.
“I’m just happy you’re okay.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever been better, and that’s the truth.” But I wiggle beneath him. “I could, however, use some water and the bathroom.”
“You can have whatever you want.”
He lifts himself off me, pulls up the sweats, and takes my hand to help me up. And then, I remember that my leggings are ruined.
“I guess I should change clothes, too.” I pull his shirt over my head and inhale, enjoying having his scent wrapped around me. “Since these pants are ruined.”
“I’ll buy you more.”
I shake my head and walk toward the stairs. “I have more up in my bag.”
I’m a mess as I climb the stairs, and I wrinkle my nose at how sticky and dirty I feel. Honestly, I could use another quick shower just to rinse off, so I do that.
And when I emerge from the bathroom in clean clothes and feeling refreshed, Beck is waiting for me with a glass of water.
“I was messy,” I inform him.
“Not sorry,” he replies with a chuckle and kisses my forehead. “Come on, let’s go finish that movie.”
“Or that scene in my book.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Do you just want me to be permanently inside you all weekend, Irish?”
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” I bat my eyelashes at him and take a sip of the cool water. “Besides, you know you like the book.”
“Come on, then. Let’s go see what kind of trouble Dom and Val get into.”