Chapter Seventeen
Sadie
Beckett and I stared at each other while his warm, solid body rested atop me.
At that moment, I didn’t care that I was lying in mud, that my backside was quickly becoming soaked, that mud dripped from Beckett’s hair onto my neck.
The only sensation that garnered my attention was a stirring in my core—a stirring that had everything to do with the feel of Beckett’s leg resting between my legs.
The press of his thigh against me set off celebratory fireworks inside me.
I wanted more. So much more.
I lifted a hand and raked my fingers into Beckett’s hair, slicking back the wet, muddy strands. Even covered in dirt, he was incredibly handsome.
His head lowered, his gaze fixed on my mouth.
I was more than agreeable to being kissed and kissing him back right now.
But Dasha had apparently gotten free again. The Husky leaped over Beckett and me, her underside swiping me across the forehead like a paintbrush.
Amelia ran over, her normally wild hair matted down with mud.
“Uncle Beckett!” she squealed. “Help us catch Dasha!”
“Duty calls.” Beckett used his arms to push off me then popped up to his feet.
He extended a hand down and pulled me up.
His gaze scanned my face then he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to just below my left ear.
“That’s the only clean spot,” he whispered before jogging off with Amelia to round up Dasha.
Beckett scooped up Amelia, the sound of the girl’s giggles so joyous I couldn’t resist smiling though I was caked in mud and beginning to feel a little cold.
“You really never know what will happen at a Hartley family gathering.” Vanessa stood beside me. “I’ll bet you’ve never been this dirty in your entire life.”
My whole outfit was brown, my hands were creased with mud, and my braid was a long, dirty rope. Immediately, a vision of me in royal dress at one of my father’s fancy galas came into my mind. I was certainly a long way from that version of myself.
“You’re right. I have never been this dirty before,” I said with a chuckle. “But I’ve also never had this much fun before either.”
Vanessa smiled as she took a towel Ashley handed her and wiped at Little Ben.
“He’s not upset by being covered in mud,” I said.
“This kid is definitely a Hartley.” Vanessa kissed the top of his head after she’d created a clean spot there.
“My brothers were always dirty like this as kids and it never bothered them either. It bothered my mother though. Especially when they galloped into the house like that and left a dirty wake.”
“At least they can all go off to their own houses now that they’re adults and give your poor mother a break,” I said.
Vanessa took a small step back and looked me over.
“And Beckett’s a neat freak so if he lets you into his house with that much dirt on you, he’s definitely into you.
” She gave my arm a quick squeeze then walked over to Spencer and Hunter.
The four of them followed Mrs. Hartley and Jimmy to the farmhouse, no doubt to clean up before leaving because they didn’t live on the property.
With the dogs properly under control, Beckett’s brothers and their partners paired up and wandered over to paths that led to their houses. No one climbed into a car for fear of ruining the interior.
“I hope you don’t mind a little walk,” Beckett said when he came over to me. “I’ll never get my SUV clean if we sit in it.”
“I don’t mind a walk,” I said, though I now wondered if he wouldn’t let me in his house either. Perhaps Beckett wasn’t as into me as I’d hoped.
Beckett took my hand, tugging me past his SUV and the other cars parked in front of the farmhouse. Fortunately, despite being covered in mud, the night wasn’t too chilly and the walk was pleasant.
But the fluttering in my stomach grew in intensity as I walked beside Beckett toward his home.
Toward what would happen next.
I wanted what would happen next. Desperately wanted it.
But I was also nervous I wouldn’t be what Beckett wanted.
My intimate experiences thus far had been limited to the conquering Cian thought equaled lovemaking.
I hadn’t done much to participate in that.
Lying there and letting Cian do what he wanted had become my strategy.
It had just been easier, but I realized now how unfair that had been to me—how it made me exactly into the object Cian believed I was. A thing to be used for his own needs.
What would being with Beckett be like?
He certainly didn’t behave like Cian did. Beckett had been respectful and considerate, but would all that change once we did more than kiss? Was everything about to be ruined between us?
Would he even let me inside as dirty as I was right now?
We arrived at his house before I’d figured out the answer to any of those questions. I held my breath as we approached his garage door which Beckett opened with his phone.
He didn’t let go of my hand as he walked into the garage, tugging me over to the door that led into the house.
I expected him to tell me to wait outside while he got towels or something for us to clean up before entering, but he surprised me by opening the door and stepping in.
With me.
I didn’t say anything while he pulled me through the kitchen, down the hall, and to the master bath. There had been a smaller bathroom near the garage when we’d first entered, but he’d gone for the better bathroom.
The one with a fancy tub.
A tub that could definitely fit two people.
Then Beckett paused and faced me.
“Would you prefer to clean up by yourself in another bathroom?” he asked. “I marched us in here together, making assumptions, but—” He stopped talking when I put my finger to his lips.
“I like your assumptions.”
With a little nod and a slight grin, Beckett opened the door to the shower and turned on the spray before facing me.
“I think this mess calls for a two-stage cleaning process.” He pointed to the shower stall.
“First, we’ll rinse the mud off.” Next, he gestured to the tub.
“Then we’ll enter the second stage.” He took a few steps closer, his gaze hungry as it combed over me.
“That stage is for checking each other over—thoroughly—to make sure we’ve gotten rid of all the mud. ”
“That’s sounds like a sensible plan,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Beckett’s lips turned up on the left side as he gestured to my sweater. “May I free you of that?”
I held my arms out to my sides in invitation.
He slid the sweater down my arms, allowing it to drop to the floor with a splat. A part of me wanted to warn him about making a mess of his bathroom. Another part, however, wanted to see how much of a mess he was willing to tolerate to get me naked.
With his brown eyes full of focus, he crouched and hooked his hand on the back of my left leg, prompting me to lift my foot. He unzipped my boot and pulled it off, letting it flop to the tiled floor with a gritty scrape. He did the same with my right boot then peeled my soaked socks off my feet.
Slowly, Beckett rose to standing. He ran his hands along my sides, grabbing the hem of the T-shirt I’d had on under the sweater, coaxing me to raise my arms as he lifted the shirt off me.
Beckett’s gaze zeroed in on the glop of mud resting between my breasts. After dropping my shirt atop my sweater where it let out a wet squish, he glided his index finger along my skin, scraping the mud away and simultaneously electrifying my entire body.
I shuddered over his touch, craving his hands on every part of me, but he moved on to grabbing the waist of my pants and scraping them down my legs.
I stepped out of them, my bare foot mashing some mud into the floor, but my attention was solely on the way Beckett looked at me as if he was in awe of the sight.
In nothing but my black bra and matching underwear, the only other things I wore were my earrings, a pendant necklace I’d made, and the mud that still clung to me.
“So beautiful,” Beckett whispered as he regarded me.
“Even covered in mud?” I asked.
“Maybe especially covered in mud.” He grinned.
“Well, let’s get a look at you.”
I peeled his flannel shirt off his shoulders, cringing when some dirty water got wrung out and splashed at our feet. “Sorry.”
“It’s just dirt and water,” Beckett said. “Easily cleaned up later.” He hooked his hand at the back of my neck and caressed my cheek with his thumb. “Much, much later.”
The fire in his gaze made me speed through getting off the rest of his clothes so he stood before me in only his boxer briefs. I’d honestly never seen anything so mouthwatering. Beckett was all toned muscles and strength bundled in a lean, athletic body I wanted to rub myself all over.
I ran my hand along some mud caked on my wrist then glided that hand over the ridges of Beckett’s abs. Four brown streaks cut across those muscles now.
“I wanted a reason to wash that area,” I said, making Beckett chuckle.
“You can wash absolutely anything you wish.” He turned toward the shower stall and shimmied out of his underwear, treating me to a splendid view of his taut ass.
Yes. I was definitely going to wash that.
I rid myself of my bra and underwear and joined Beckett in the shower stall where steamy water cascaded down from a wide shower head. We spent several moments standing there, allowing the stream to rinse off the mud.
Beckett curled his hand around my braid and lifted the end of it to remove the hair tie there.
He hung the hair tie on a hook on a shower caddy then focused on unplaiting the braid until my hair was loose about me.
He then rotated us so I was in the water more.
With the gentlest touch, he smoothed his hands over my tresses, sending muddy water down the drain at our feet.
When he was satisfied with the rinse, he squeezed shampoo into his palm and the scalp massage that followed nearly had my knees buckling. Beckett’s fingers skated along my skull in slow, purposeful circles that pulled a moan from me.
“Oh, my,” I gasped. “That feels fantastic.”
Beckett’s only reply was to put a little more pressure into his touch so I felt the massage deep in my soul. All my muscles relaxed. I’d never had anyone touch me like this. Like their soul purpose was to activate all my pleasure zones at once.
When my hair was clean, Beckett lathered his hands with soap and proceeded to travel all over my body with those same massaging strokes until I was quivering with desire.
While Beckett was on his knees, finishing up by working his hands over my calves, I slicked my hands with shampoo and washed his hair. As I scratched my fingers through his hair, he pressed kisses to my stomach, his slippery hands coasting closer and closer to where I wanted them.
Where I needed them.
He stood for a few moments so I could finish washing his body then he lowered right back to his knees, trailing kisses along his descent. His fingers found the ache between my legs and those first, tentative dips inside me let me know this was not going to be anything like being with Cian.
“Tell me what you like,” Beckett said as his other hand snaked over my hips and up to cup one of my breasts.
“I’m going to like whatever you do, Beckett,” I said. “You’ve already made me feel wonderful. You know how to touch me.”
His mouth found my belly again and he dragged his lips, his tongue along my wet flesh as his fingers plunged rhythmically in and out of me.
Soon, I was vibrating with the need to explode.
I braced my hands on the shower walls as I let loose around Beckett’s fingers.
My chest heaved as I surrendered to the sensations cresting over my body.
I clenched and unclenched, clenched and unclenched, visibly shook with pleasure, until I erupted with the only true orgasm I’d ever had.
I slumped against Beckett after he slid his fingers out of me and rose to standing.
“I . . . I never knew it could be like that,” I said.
“Like world-altering?” Beckett grinned when I nodded. “I never knew pleasuring the other person could turn me on so much.” He angled his hand down to his impressive arousal. “But watching you slip into a blissful state has got me—”
“Ready for your turn.” I slid my hands over his chest and down his abs, loving the hiss of breath he released when I wrapped my hand around his erection and gave it one, slow pump.
I’d never touched Cian like this. He didn’t enjoy me touching him. He preferred to get his release by being the dominating one. He took. He didn’t receive.
But Beckett responded to my touch with little shifts forward and back of his hips. Raspy moans escaped his throat. Whispers of my name let me know he liked what I was doing. These small cues made all the difference. We were two participants in this activity.
We were partners.
I kept up my slow strokes until Beckett’s breathing became short inhales and quick exhales. I then shifted to tighter grips, faster movements, loving how Beckett’s fingers had buried themselves in my hair, how he’d lowered his face into the curve of my neck, how his teeth grazed my shoulder.
His release came hard and with a low growl that vibrated against my jaw as he pressed his lips there and kissed a trail over to my mouth. The kiss that blossomed between us was breath-stealing, heart-claiming, soul-marking.
When we finally parted for some air, Beckett rested his forehead against mine, both of us breathing heavily.
“That was . . .” He lifted his head and shook it.
“That was only the first stage of your two-stage plan for getting us clean,” I reminded him. “And I can’t wait for the second stage.”