Chapter 17
INDY
There’s nothing better than first thing in the morning sex.
Waking up to feel Bea’s sweet ass pressed against me, her belly the softest silk beneath my hand. Her hair tickles my nose as she curls on her side, the little spoon to my big, as she likes to say.
Even after a full-night’s sleep, she still smells like vanilla and honey and this indescribable fragrance that’s only her.
I love the feeling of coming awake with Bea tucked in my arms, hearing the tiny humming sound she makes while she sleeps, which might be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.
When I spot her charger on the bedside table, a surge of overwhelming protectiveness sweeps through me. Yes, I know she’s been sleeping on her own just fine for years. But I hate the idea that someone could sneak up on her. That she wouldn’t know danger was coming until it’s too late.
Not anymore. Not with me.
I stay between her and the door, for one. So anyone who’s stupid enough to break in will have to deal with me first. And after decades of relying on my senses to stay alive, the slightest sound in the middle of the night always jerks me awake.
So priority one is taken care of. Protect Bea. Make sure no one ever hurts her again.
But in the morning, with the sun casting a golden glow across Bea’s gorgeous body, I can focus on priority number two—making her happy.
And in a win for both of us, morning sex makes her happy.
Like now.
Stretched out beneath me, her legs hooked over my shoulders and her wrists held carefully in my hand, her expression is nothing but pleasure.
Her mouth is parted in a small O, tiny moans and whimpers and Oh, Indy, mores spilling from it.
Her eyes are heavy-lidded and glazed with desire.
With every thrust inside her, she clenches around me, her inner walls slick and quivering.
As I bend my head to her breast, taking her rosy-tipped nipple into my mouth, she arches towards me and hums her pleasure deep in her throat.
Her body tells me she loves what I’m doing. That it makes her happy.
“Indy,” Bea groans as I lightly graze my teeth across her sensitive skin.
I swirl my tongue around her nipple to soothe the slight sting before releasing it with a little pop. “What, Bea?”
She wriggles beneath me. “I want—”
“Shit.” I release her wrists quickly. “Am I hurting you? Is my hold too tight?”
“No.” A slow smile curves her lips. “You weren’t hurting me. At all. You know I like it when you…” Trailing off, her cheeks go pink. Which is just about the cutest damn thing ever.
Bea likes it when I restrain her. We’ve tried my hands, satin scarves, and just yesterday, I caught her looking at velvet-lined cuffs online. But she still gets all flustered whenever we talk about it.
I don’t mind. It’s new for her, doing something like this in bed. And I’m more than happy to take things as slow or fast as she wants me to.
“You like it when I hold your wrists,” I state.
“Yes.” She bites her lip. “I like it a lot.”
“So what’s wrong? If it’s not that? Are you sore?”
“No…” Her cheeks go even redder. In a rush, she adds, “But I was just thinking. What if I roll over? And you take me from behind?”
I didn’t think it was possible to be any harder than I already was.
I was wrong.
“You want to be on your hands and knees?” I ask. “With me behind you?”
Bea nods. “I’ve never done it that way before. But I think I’d like to try it.”
Desire surges, hot and hungry. “I think we can do that.”
Her big blue eyes meet mine. “And you can hold my hands while we do it?”
Shit.
I almost came just from her words alone.
“Yes.” I roll Bea over and pull her up on her hands and knees. I spread her legs and notch myself between them before placing my hands over hers. Then I kiss her cheek, closing my eyes for a moment as I memorize the feel of her skin on my lips. “Anything you want, Bea. I’ll do it.”
She turns her head, capturing my mouth with hers. “Then I want you, Indy. Like this. I want you to show me how it feels.”
“Ah, Bea.” My heart swells along with the need growing inside me. “I’ll show you how good it can be. I’ll make sure you love it.”
So I do.
And she does.
Not just moaning my name, but shouting it.
Convulsing around me, her inner walls clutching at me, keeping us joined together.
Her features go tense at the moment of ecstasy, then slacken as the waves of pleasure roll in.
And once she launches over the edge, I finally give myself permission to fly off it with her. Going impossibly hard, every muscle in my body tensing as I come.
It’s the most perfect sensation.
Feeling her pleasure at the same time as mine.
Knowing I gave that to her.
And though I wouldn’t say it; it feels like a claiming, too.
I would let her go in an instant if she told me to. But I want her to be mine.
Mine to protect. Mine to care for. Mine to bring happiness to every day.
I’ve never felt like this before. Never much cared if I did. But now?
In my heart, I know I’m not just falling in love with Bea. I already am.
I let the thought spin in my head as the aftershocks ripple through us. And again while I run to the bathroom to get a damp washcloth to clean her up. And then again when I tuck her beneath the covers and kiss her forehead.
I love her.
Bea looks up at me, her eyes sparkling and her hair sticking up in several places, so freaking adorable I can barely stand it. “I liked that. A lot. I wasn’t sure if I would.”
Smoothing her hair down—not because I care if it’s messy, but I know Bea likes it neat—I ask, “Why not?”
“I thought it seemed impersonal,” she replies after thinking for a few moments. “Not being able to see the person behind you. But it wasn’t impersonal at all.”
“I didn’t think so.” I press a kiss to her lips. “I thought it felt very personal.”
She smiles. “Yeah, it did.” Then Bea glances at the empty space on the bed beside her. “Aren’t you coming back to bed?”
“Soon. First, I’m going to make you some breakfast. And bring it to you in bed.”
Alarm flashes in Bea’s eyes. “You’re going to make breakfast?”
“Hey. Are you insinuating I can’t cook?”
“No. Of course not. It’s just…” She pauses, and I can just tell she’s trying to come up with something other than, No, you’re a terrible cook, and I’d rather not risk food poisoning today.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” she finishes weakly. “We’re supposed to meet the Richards at noon. And with the drive… I’m not sure we have time for a full breakfast from scratch.”
A beat later, Bea frowns. Her teeth dig into her lower lip.
“Hey.” I sit on the edge of the bed and run my hand down her back. “There’s nothing to worry about. Okay?”
“I know.” But she doesn’t sound convinced.
“Bea. We don’t have to go if you’re not comfortable with it.”
“But I do.” Her brows pinch into a worried V. “Jenna’s mom invited me over. She said she wants to see me. How can I not go?”
What I want to say is that I don’t care about Jenna’s parents. I don’t care that they called last night to invite her for a visit, once the news came out that Bea wasn’t a killer but an innocent victim instead.
I care about Bea. How she’s holding up amid all the craziness. I care about her feelings, and if something upsets her, I don’t want her doing it.
It’s been a tough couple of days for Bea, though she’s been a real trooper about it. With Manny in jail and more evidence against him piling up by the hour, as a team we decided it was time for her official discovery.
It took a lot of work to pull it all together, but thanks to Tyler’s skills, the story was airtight.
And the story we created?
When Bea survived the attack in the locker room, afraid she’d ruin his story, Manny kidnapped her and held her hostage in a rundown rental just outside Scranton.
While he was off hunting the next name on his hit list, Bea was locked up and left with barely enough food to survive.
But after his capture, thanks to an anonymous tip, she was located safely.
In reality, Webb flew us by chartered plane to a private airstrip in Pennsylvania, where we hid out for a few days while getting all our proverbial ducks in order.
I stayed with Bea, making sure she stayed hidden and safe, while Ace and Webb went to the rental house outside Scranton to stage everything.
And just before the police received the anonymous tip, I drove Bea to the house and left her there.
Although, I didn’t really leave her there. I was in the woods nearby, close enough to get to her if anything went wrong. Still, it sucked not being there for her when I knew she was so scared of things going wrong.
“What if I mess up the story?” she kept asking me. “What if I say something that doesn’t match up, and I get you guys in trouble?”
“You won’t,” I reassured her. “You’re going to do just fine. And they’re going to expect you to be nervous. As far as the police know, you were held hostage for weeks. They’re going to be gentle with you. I’m sure of it.”
And they were. From the moment Bea was found, the police were nothing but kind to her. And they believed every bit of her story, from waking up the first night with a blinding headache to the stretch of days when she was all alone in the house, just like I knew they would.
I was worried Bea might feel bad about lying, and I still feel guilty about putting her in that position.
But when I brought it up, she was insistent I shouldn’t.
“You saved me, Indy,” she told me firmly.
“You caught Jenna’s killer. And you stopped a murderer from killing any more innocent people.
So if I need to lie to make sure you can help more people, I’ll do it gladly. ”
Then she hugged me and added, “You always protect me, Indy. This time, I get to be the one protecting you.”
Still. I wish she hadn’t had to do it.
If I could go back in time, would I have done it any other way? No.
But that’s the last time Bea will have to protect me. From now on, I’ll be the only one doing the protecting.