Chapter 40 Beckett
BECKETT
“Happy Birthday!” she yells, jumping on top of me and smothering me in her arms.
“Sloane,” I grumble as I let her sing Happy Birthday.
“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to Beckett! Happy Birthday to youuuuuuuuuu!” She sings. I can’t help the smile that takes over my face as I look up at her.
She straddles my waist, her hands running up and down my chest. I let out a little groan. She gently grinds her hips into mine.
“Sloane,” I warn, my head falling back against my pillows. My hands grab her hips and guide her rhythm.
She leans down, peppering kisses all over my neck and chest. Her hands dance over my skin as I continue to guide her movements.
“Hopefully you’re ready for the best day of your life,” she whispers, kissing my neck, then slowly sucking on my ear.
“Baby,” I gasp as she pushes my boxers out of the way and rubs her bare skin on me.
“Let me take care of you, Beck.”
I nod. Not able to find words because of the pleasure that’s flowing through me right now.
“Good boy,” she praises as she reaches between us and strokes me softly with her hand. I have to fight the whimper that threatens to escape.
“I want you, baby,” I whisper, letting out a moan as she strokes me just right.
“I need you,” she counters, raising up, and I help guide her into position.
She looks at me, making eye contact before I help lower her down onto my cock.
I let out a soft hum as she sits down all the way, taking all of me. My hands find her hips as hers find my shoulders.
“So fucking tight, baby. So good.”
Her eyes flutter at my praise. I rock my hips up into her, and her head falls back as she rises up and pushes down.
We fall into the most perfect rhythm, she goes up, then down, and I push deep inside her.
I love watching her like this. Looking like a fucking queen on top of her throne. Her lips part as the most perfect noises slip between them.
“That’s it, baby, take me,” I praise, moving her just a little bit faster.
She moves so well on top of me. I love it, and I never want to leave. I want her to stay right here forever.
When I cum, I fill her with everything I've got, and she collapses on top of me, trembling slightly.
This is perfect. This could be the only thing that she has planned for the day, and this would be all that I need.
“Ok, step one of the most perfect day ever complete, now onto step two; breakfast,” she says as she lies on top of me, both of us a little breathless and sweaty.
I roll us so she’s underneath me. I gently kiss her lips, then her jaw, and down her neck. She giggles as I suck softly on the skin. Her fingers thread through my hair and pull on it gently.
“I could eat you all day long, and that would be more than enough,” I mumble, licking a path between her perfect breasts.
“I don’t think that I’m very nutritious,” she teases, gently pulling on my head, making me look up at her.
“But you are fucking delicious.”
She rolls her eyes at me and tugs on me, pulling me up so that I’m lying back over her.
“As much as I would love to stay in bed all day with you, I really do have lots of things I’d like to do and to see. I need us to be fully fed before we do any of it.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Fine, we can do whatever you want,” I say, kissing her nose. When I pull away, I cup her cheek and stare down into her gorgeous eyes.
“I think that you’ll like what I have planned.”
She looks excited. Happy. I want to ask her what she has planned, but I know that she’d never tell me. She keeps her secrets locked up tight until she’s ready to give them away.
I slowly get up off of her, and she kisses my cheek as she gets up.
“Get ready, I’ll meet you downstairs.”
She opens the door, and Mocha waits patiently outside, huffing like we majorly inconvenienced him by having a few minutes of alone time without him.
She winks at me as she goes down the hall and disappears into her room to get dressed.
Mocha runs to me as soon as he sees me, jumping up into my arms and kissing my face.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, picking him up and giving him some pets and a kiss on the head before setting him back down.
Sloane pours me a cup of coffee and slides it over to me as I sit down at the counter.
“Thanks,” I say with a smile, taking in her outfit. She’s wearing a pair of black leggings that hug her body in all the right places, an oversized t-shirt that she stole from my closet, and her hair is in a braid.
She slides a plate over to me. Biscuits with sausage gravy, eggs, and bacon. The pieces of bacon placed to look like a forty-three.
She dishes herself a plate and hands Mocha a piece of sausage before joining me.
We eat in silence, but she’s jittery. Her hands fidget if she holds them still for too long; she can’t stop smiling. But her eyes say that she’s nervous.
“You ok?” I ask as we finish up. She stands in front of me and takes my hands into hers.
“I’m just a little anxious that you won’t like the gift that I got you.”
“I’m sure that whatever it is, I’ll love it.” I pull her into a hug and kiss her forehead.
She hugs me tighter before letting go of me. She looks up at me, her eyes still showing her anxiety. She takes a slow, deep breath and pulls what looks like a sleeping mask, then holds it out to me.
“What’s this for?”
“Put it on, and I’ll take you to your gift.”
I stare at her for a long moment, her happiness slowly fading into what seems like major anxiety.
“Hey, baby, I swear I’m going to love it.”
She nods, and I grab her trembling hand and press it to my lips before taking the eye mask and placing it over my eyes.
I hear her let out another breath before taking hold of my hand. “We’re going to go out to the shop.”
“Lead the way.”
I lace my fingers with hers and let her guide me out of the house, over the concrete sidewalk to the shop. She types in the code to the garage doors, and I listen to them squeak as they open. She grabs my hand and pulls me into the shop. After a few feet, she stops me.
“Ok.” She spins me gently, stopping me before I feel her step back. She lets out another breath, and I want to pull her into my arms and let her know that everything will be ok.
“You can take the mask off.”
Her voice is shaky, and it comes from a few feet to my left. I reach up and grab the mask and pull it off my eyes. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the sunlight, for me to register what sits in front of me.
“Sloane…” I trail off as I stare at the all-black Indian Chief Dark Horse Motorcycle. I’m speechless. My mouth goes dry as I stare at the gorgeous bike in front of me.
“My dad told us once that you and he used to have some kind of motorcycle when you were around my age. He kept his, but you sold yours in order to be able to provide for Mason.”
Her voice is still a little shaky as I turn and look at her. She pulls a folded-up photo out of her pocket.
“You look so happy, all three of you did.”
She hands the photo to me. It almost brings tears to my eyes.
Me, Briar, and my dad. All sitting on our bikes.
My mom had taken the picture before she passed away.
I was probably eighteen, it was right before I graduated high school.
I hold the picture in my hand. I look at it for a few seconds before looking at the bike, then at Sloane.
I set the picture down on the workbench next to me and pull Sloane into my arms.
I bury my face into her neck, hugging her tight.
“Don’t leave,” I whisper. I’m not ready to say the words, and I’m not sure if she’s ready to hear them yet.
“Please don’t leave me,” I repeat, holding her tighter.
I won’t be able to survive if she goes back to Georgia.
She’s the only reason that my life is worth living, the only reason I come home.
Without her, I have nothing. I am nothing.
“Thank you, baby,” I whisper, pulling away and tilting her chin up with my hand.
I cup her cheek and use my thumb to wipe away her tears.
“Anything for you,” she whispers back. I press my lips to hers. I want to bury myself inside her. To never let her go. To keep her here forever. Mold our bodies together so that we are never apart.
She pulls away first and presses our foreheads together. “Do you like it?” she whispers.
“I fucking love it, it’s the best gift I think anyone’s ever given me.”
I mean it. I don’t even remember the last time anyone even got me a gift.
She lets go of me and steps away. She laces our fingers together and brings my hand up to her mouth, pressing a kiss to the knuckles.
“Good, but there are a few more things,” she says, turning around and pulling me over to her Bronco that’s parked just outside of the shop.
She opens the back to reveal a few neatly wrapped boxes and a few bags with tissue paper.
“Sloane, you really didn’t have to do all this,” I say as she hands me the first box.
“I wanted to. You’ve done so much for me, I wanted to do something nice for you, for once.”
She says it like she hasn’t done a single thing for me since she moved into this house, which is so far from the truth.
Maybe some of her things have been small, the flowers she left on Dad’s death day, the meals she packs for me every day, and the cleaning she does around the house.
But some are big, the shopping spree she took me on, bringing Mocha into our lives, her simply deciding to stay here when she could have gone anywhere else.
“Don’t ever downplay the effect you’ve had in my life this summer,” I whisper, pulling her into my side and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You have done more for me than you will ever know.”
She nods and looks at the gift in my hands. “Open it, I’m excited to see if you like the rest of the stuff I picked out.”
I look at her for a few seconds. I can tell that she’s just trying to change the subject, but I didn’t want to push right now. So I nod and let go of her hand to unwrap the box.
A full face helmet.
The next box is riding boots.