Chapter 21
INDY
Whoever invented velvet-lined cuffs is a genius.
As my gaze drags over Bea’s gloriously naked body, I send a mental thank you to the person who first came up with the idea.
I like holding her wrists with my hands, too. When we have sex that way, I’m closer to her; close enough to see the flecks of blue and silver in her eyes, to feel her nipples brushing my chest, close enough to capture her mouth and ravish it.
But with the handcuffs, I can use my hands for other things.
I can plump her sweet breasts in my palm, using my fingers to tease the rosy tips into hard peaks.
I can reach between her legs to find her little bud, working it until Bea’s hips are jerking and she’s pleading for me to sink inside her.
I can use my right hand to trace intricate patterns across her body, along her belly and hips and that sensitive spot on her collarbone.
I thought it might be strange, touching her with my prosthetic like that. But Bea says she likes it. “It’s still you touching me,” she explained. “But I like how the coolness feels against my skin. It gives me goosebumps in the best way.”
And if Bea likes something, I’ll do it gladly.
With Bea’s arms still stretched above her head and cuffed to the new bed I bought just for this purpose, her eyes glazed with desire and her skin flushed with excitement, I’m certain she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Her lips curve into a teasing smile as she watches my gaze move across her body. “Are you planning to keep me here all morning just so you can look at me?”
“Maybe.” I trail a finger between her breasts and down past her silken belly, ending between her thighs. She shivers as I stroke her sensitized skin. “Keeping you here all morning sounds like a pretty good idea to me.”
“Indy.” It’s lightly scolding. “We have plans. I can’t stay in bed all morning. Even though—” She gasps as I slide my finger inside her. “Oh. Indy.”
We could go for another round. I know Bea wouldn’t really complain. But I won’t. Because we really do have plans for the day. Some Bea knows about, and one thing she doesn’t.
Although.
She looks so damn sexy right now.
Rocking back on my heels, my gaze sweeps across Bea’s body one more time. “You really are gorgeous. You know that, right?”
I can tell Bea wants to argue, even though I tell her that all the time. A small part of her still thinks she’s flawed, a lingering aftereffect from those assholes who made her feel like less because of her implants.
But Bea’s not less. She’s more.
She’s stronger because of what she’s been through. She’s more compassionate. And she’s one of the most determined people I’ve ever met.
That’s why she insisted on living in her own apartment in Newberg instead of moving into Blade and Arrow with me. I wanted her to. And I’ll admit, I asked her more than once during our road trip across the country if she’d reconsider.
Because selfishly, I wanted her with me. The plan we discussed pre-Mack and Greg sounded good in theory, with Bea giving herself time to deal with her fears on her own instead of relying on me.
But in reality, it made me feel sick. Bea alone in her apartment without me there to protect her? Not there to comfort her after a nightmare? Not there to check the windows and doors to make absolutely sure the security system we installed was working properly?
I hated the idea. Hated it.
But part of loving someone, I discovered, is letting go of them sometimes, even when it’s the last thing you want to do.
Bea wanted to feel like the strong woman she used to be. And selfish desires aside, I knew I had to let her do it.
So after our road trip—which went even better than I hoped, and by the end of our visit with Bea’s parents, her dad even called me son—we moved Bea into an apartment in Newberg, a torturous fifteen minute drive from B and A.
Well. More like ten, if I really push it. Which I don’t in normal circumstances. But just in case… I wanted to know how quickly I could get to her.
I stayed with Bea the first week in her new place, helping her get settled in, but the second week I moved back to my apartment here. And it was hard. Really hard.
The first night I left her alone, I ended up sitting in my car outside her apartment all night, just in case she needed me.
And that first week she was living on her own, I barely slept, my dreams replaced by nightmares that Bea was in trouble and I wasn’t there to protect her.
Then I had to go away for a job in San Francisco for four days, and that was even harder.
Not just for me, but for Bea, who ended up staying at B and A and having a sleepover with Eden, because having me hours away was too much for her.
But it’s like Bea said. Sometimes the best decisions are the hardest ones.
So we both pushed through. I spent the night at Bea’s apartment three or four times a week.
We went on dates. We took day trips to Mount Hood and Vancouver and into downtown Portland so Bea could get to know the city.
We got to spend time together like a normal couple instead of constantly looking over our shoulders for danger.
Okay. Bea did. I had to keep an eye out. After everything that happened, I don’t think I’ll ever not be on guard.
And then two weeks ago, Bea told me she was ready to move in together. “If you still want me to,” she amended. “If you need more time, I understand. But I’m ready whenever you are.”
I was ready.
And with the help of my teammates, I had Bea moved into the B and A the next day.
Now we live together. My apartment—no, our apartment—looks more like an actual home than just a place to sleep and watch TV.
We have color schemes in each room with matching curtains and rugs.
Bea’s cooking gear has taken over the kitchen.
I wake up with her cuddled against me and when I don’t have a meeting, we usually start the day off with sex.
If it’s a weekday, I’ll head to the gym to start my workout while Bea heads off to her new job at a physical therapy office in Newberg.
Which I fully vetted, for the record. Tyler ran extensive background checks on all the employees. And we might have snuck over there late one night to install some extra security, because when it comes to Bea’s safety, I’m not taking any chances.
There shouldn’t be anything to worry about. I keep reminding myself of that. Mack and Manny are both in prison, where they’ll stay until at least their eighties. Greg is serving a lesser sentence, helped by his father’s connections. But when he does get out, we’ll be keeping a close eye on him.
Bea feels sorry for Greg. But I don’t. He tried to kill the woman I love. He was lucky to get off as easily as he did.
“You’re the gorgeous one,” Bea replies with a smile. “Now. Let me out of these so I can go make breakfast. We have—” She glances at the clock on the bedside table. “Three hours until your mom’s supposed to arrive in Portland. And I’d like to clean the apartment before she gets here.”
As I unfasten the cuffs, I press a soft kiss to each of Bea’s wrists. “The apartment is clean. I did the bathroom last week. And I know you cleaned the kitchen last night after dinner.”
Bea sits up and pulls the sheet around her. “That’s not mom-clean,” she says. “That’s regular clean. Moms have a special ability to see dirt. And since it’s the first time I’m meeting her in person, I want to make a good impression.”
I tug the sheet down to her lap, exposing her breasts again. “I like you this way,” I tell her. “And don’t worry for a second about impressing my mom. She already loves you.”
“From some video calls?”
“Yes. From some video calls. And from everything I’ve told her about you. Plus, Eden raves about you to her.”
Bea glances at the sheet piled in her lap and frowns at it for a second. But she leaves it alone. “I think Eden’s awesome, too.”
“Everyone thinks you’re amazing,” I reply. “Not just Eden. Rafe, too. And Ace and Tyler and Webb. Plus, Yara keeps asking when you’re coming back for a visit.”
Bea’s smile gets bigger. “Soon? I’d really like to see Rainier Beach in the summer.”
“Of course.” I jog into the attached bathroom and quickly dampen a washcloth, then come back to the bed to clean Bea off.
We recently switched from condoms to birth control, and I have to admit, having sex bare-skinned is even better than I thought it would be.
“We could do a long weekend after my mom goes back to Florida. I’ve got a five-day job planned for the end of the month, but I can definitely fit in a trip to see Yara. ”
“That would be awesome.” She gets out of bed and heads into the walk-in closet. Much to my disappointment, she reappears shortly afterwards wearing a T-shirt and shorts.
“What’s that look for?” Bea asks.
“What look?”
“That grumpy look.”
“You’re wearing clothes.”
Bea giggles. “Well, yes. People do that.”
“Maybe so.” I cross the room and pull her into my arms. “But I like you naked.”
Bea slides her hand up my shirt and traces the lines of my muscles, the featherlight touch sending tingles through my body. “I like you naked, too.”
She traces my abs again.
“Bea.”
She looks up at me, her eyes wide and innocent. “Yes?”
“Are you counting my abs again?”
Pink rises in her cheeks. “And if I am?”
“Nothing.” I kiss her forehead. “I don’t mind. But when you touch me like that, it makes me want to bring you back to bed.”
“I can’t help it,” Bea retorts. “You shouldn’t have so many muscles if you don’t want me touching them.”
I slide my arm around her, tucking her into my side. As we leave the bedroom, I say, “How about this. We’ll do breakfast. Then some quick cleaning. After that, to save time, we’ll shower together. And you can count all my muscles then. What do you think?”
Bea grins up at me. “I think that sounds like a very good idea.”