5. Bea

5

BEA

W hat the hell was I thinking? Inviting Beck over for dinner after only knowing him for a few days?

It's a professional dinner , I tell myself, even though I know that's a lie. Sure, we may be discussing house stuff, but after our exchange in the grocery store earlier, how could I not fall for the guy? Not that I'm falling for him. That's not the right word. I'm not in love with the man or anything.

So what if he has an easy, gorgeous smile that makes my stomach flip and my heart race? And, okay, maybe I had a little dream about him last night where his ocean-blue eyes locked onto mine and he cupped the side of my face, drawing me in for my first kiss. No big deal.

I'm so screwed.

The timer I set on my phone goes off, alerting me to check on the pasta sauce. I'm thankful that a few of the kitchen appliances are in working order, though I will likely be replacing them in the future. I spent most of yesterday scrubbing and scouring the oven, and though I couldn't get the actual oven to work, the stove top miraculously turned on right away.

I stir the pasta sauce and lift the spoon to my mouth for a taste test. Adding a bit more basil and a sprinkle of sugar - my secret ingredients to make store-bought pasta sauce taste homemade - and nod to myself in satisfaction.

Growing up, we usually had the cheapest ingredients for meals. Canned veggies, frozen dinners, or in one foster home, they handed out cans of baked beans during the week, only feeding us an actual dinner on the weekends. I learned how to make even the blandest of meals a little more flavorful.

A knock at the door startles me from my thoughts. He's here. I look around the house, then remember it's falling apart and no amount of cleaning is going to be acceptable enough to have a guest over. Plus, he knows what this place looks like. God, why am I so nervous? This is a job for him. Nothing more.

I wipe my sweaty hands on my leggings, rethinking my outfit for the evening. I changed out of the mom jeans and giant t-shirt I was wearing at the grocery store and opted for a comfy pair of black leggings with a green flowing tunic that hits mid-thigh and matches my eyes. Not that I care what I look like. It doesn't matter, I remind myself for what feels like the hundredth time since coming home from the store.

Another knock at the door pulls me out of my stupid panic spiral, and I finally head that way and open the door. There he is, in all of his six-foot, sculpted glory. I can't help but stare at his abs, which are visible through the tight shirt he's wearing. My eyes wander up his magnificent body, memorizing the dips and grooves of his muscles and rock-hard chest.

When my eyes land on his, I realize he's been doing the same to me. That can't be right. Beck could have any woman he wants. In fact, he might have multiple women in the rotation right now. That thought churns my stomach, even though I know I have no right to be jealous.

"That sure is a nice door you've got there," he says, grinning at me.

I can't hold back my smile. Beck seems to draw it out of me effortlessly. "Some guy I know who broke into my house felt bad and replaced it for me," I answer as I step aside and invite Beck in.

"Sounds like he's a stand-up guy who tried making things right."

"Did you hear the part about breaking it?" I say over my shoulder as I head into the kitchen. Beck follows closely behind. Normally, that would make me anxious and paranoid, but with Beck? I can't seem to stop thinking about his touch. I crave it. I want his warmth, his strength blanketing me and making me feel safe and protected.

"Word on the street is that it was a misunderstanding," he replies.

"Oh yeah?" I can't help but giggle a little at his answer.

Stepping up to the stove, I turn off the burners and prepare to dish out our food. It's then I remember I don't have any plates. The pots and pans were already here and just needed a good soak and scrub to be usable again. I didn't find any plates while cleaning, but it wasn't a big deal. I've been eating out or ordering in my meals while I figure out what else needs to be done and what I need to stock up on.

"Looking for these?" Beck says, handing me a stack of paper plates and a box of plastic silverware. "I wasn't sure if you had a chance to get dishes yet," he explains.

"Um, thanks," I say, surprised at his thoughtfulness.

"Of course. If you need any other household things, let me know. My mother and aunt have a habit of hitting up every garage sale in town just so they can negotiate. It's a sport for them, I swear." Beck rolls his eyes, but his playful smile tells me he doesn't really mind. He clearly has a lot of love for his mom and aunt, which softens me toward him. "Suffice it to say, the basement is filled with things they don't need. I'll take you shopping down there soon."

"You want me to meet your mother?" I say in shock. "I mean, not like that. Not like you're bringing me home to meet the family like we're dating or whatever. I didn't… I was just… yes, that's thoughtful of you to… think of me," I end lamely. I cringe at my stuttered words, wishing I could take everything back.

Focusing on the task at hand, I open the paper plates and proceed to scoop copious amounts of pasta and sauce onto them so I have something to do instead of stewing in my awkwardness.

I turn around to hand Beck his plate, and he takes it from me before setting it back down on the counter. He holds out his hand, palm facing up, encouraging me to take it. I'm almost afraid to, but I find I can't stop. I place my hand in his, a jolt of electricity buzzing up and down my spine. Beck draws me in closer, closer, closer, and for a moment, I think I'm back in my dream and he's going to kiss me.

"Beatrix," he says softly, his voice calm and soothing. "I want to make my intentions clear. I very much want to take you home to meet the other two most important women in my life." My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline and I forget to breathe. Did he really just say…? "But I want to earn your trust first. I get the sense life hasn't treated you very well up until now."

It's not a question, but I nod my head anyway. "It's been… a struggle," I admit, tilting my head up, way, way, up, to meet his gaze. Beck leans down, resting his forehead on mine.

"I'm here now. The struggle is over."

His warm breath tickles my lips, making my skin break out in goosebumps. "Are you going to kiss me?" I whisper, feeling foolish as soon as the words tumble out of my mouth.

Beck makes a pained groaning sound, then rubs his nose against mine in the lightest of touches. "Would you like that, beautiful?"

I nod, wanting more of this man's touch, more of his words, just… more. "I might not be any good at it."

"Are you telling me I'll be your first?"

"Is that bad?" I whisper, feeling more vulnerable than I ever have. He could crush me in this moment. Or maybe, just maybe, he'll be the one to help me blossom.

"It's good, sweetheart. Really damn good. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Instead of answering with words, I lift myself up on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling him down as I meet him halfway. Our lips touch, and for a moment, nothing else happens. Did I do it wrong? Does he think I'm naive? Does he–

Beck takes over, gently sucking on my bottom lip and then my top lip before slipping his tongue inside my mouth. I moan softly, tightening my grip on his shoulders. His hands grasp my hips, urging me backward a few steps until I'm leaning against the counter.

I gasp for air while Beck continues licking and nipping at the sensitive skin on my neck. I unwrap my arms from his shoulders, sliding them down his chest and gripping his shirt in my fists. When his lips meet mine for the second time, I gasp at the shockwave of white-hot bliss traveling through me and landing between my thighs. I rub them together, hoping to alleviate the dull ache there, but it only makes it worse.

Beck slides his hands up and down my back, pulling me closer and drawing out whimpers and moans from my lips. "So beautiful," he rasps in my ear, wrapping his hands around my hips once more. He helps me grind against his solid length, the pressure building in my core until I can hardly breathe.

One second I'm putty in his strong, capable hands, and the next second, Beck is gone. My knees are a bit wobbly but I manage to stay upright by leaning against the counter once more.

"Sorry," Beck says, still out of breath. "I got carried away. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm perfectly comfortable," I say, my words a bit slurred from the aftermath of my first kiss. God, it was incredible. Much better than my dream.

"You dreamt about me?" Beck asks, prowling forward once more.

"Oops. I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"I had a dream about you, too. It was a bit filthier than a kiss, though." His eyes are ablaze with lust and good lord, I feel it, too. "But we should probably eat before the food gets cold."

"That's not fair," I say with a pout. "You can't just say something like that and not back it up with some action." I have no idea where this brazen, wanton woman came from, but I can't seem to control my words around Beck.

He just grins at me and takes our plates to the dining room, where I managed to clean off the table and chairs the night before. Beck tells me more about his mom and aunt and how he grew up here in Winifred before joining the Army.

The more he talks, the more I want to know. I ask him question after question until we're done with dinner. Talking about his past is a lot more pleasant than talking about mine. Of course, Beck doesn't let me get away with that for long.

"What about you? Did I hear you correctly when you said you had a foster–"

"About the house," I say, cutting him off. "There's the obvious repairs like the porch, windows, and siding. But what I'm really worried about is all the stuff I can't see."

Beck narrows his eyes at me, knowing I'm changing the subject on purpose. "One day you'll trust me with your past," he says softly. "Until then, I'm just happy to be here with you in the present."

God. Swoon.

Beck follows me around the house, pointing out problem areas and taking notes. He seems to know every electrician, plumber, and construction company in town, which I suppose makes sense.

We end the tour upstairs, right outside of the room I've been staying in. I pause in the doorway, not sure what to do next. Beck looks behind me to the bed, then focuses back on my face.

"Why didn't you take the master bedroom?" he asks, surprising me.

"Oh. I…" Pausing, I tilt my head to the side, considering his question. "I guess I didn't even think about it. I would never have even been allowed inside that room if this were one of my foster homes. I guess I was just happy to have a room of my own after years of sharing."

Beck takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. "Do you want to talk about that?" he asks.

"Not really," I answer truthfully, causing Beck to chuckle. "Besides, I haven't had a chance to clean the couches or chairs, so the only place to sit and chat is my bed." Beck doesn't say anything, but as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize I want Beck in my bed. At least, I want to sit next to him and maybe cuddle. I've never done that before.

Without another word, I turn and walk inside the room, tugging Beck along by our clasped hands. I sit on the bed and pat the seat next to me. Beck joins me, though he's a bit stilted and rigid like he's not sure what to do.

"I was thinking…" I start, looking down at my hands. Beck covers both of them with one of his large hands. "Maybe you could just… hold me?" I hold my breath and close my eyes, wanting to crawl under the bed and hide when he doesn't say anything. "Never mind. It was stupid of me to ask."

I peek one eye open when I hear him readjust himself on the bed. Beck rests against the headboard, then he lifts his arm, letting me know it's okay to cuddle up. I waste no time crawling over to him and leaning my head against his shoulder. Beck tucks me against his side and strokes my neck and back in the most calming gesture.

"I could stay here all night," he whispers. "I'll hold you whenever you want. You never have to be embarrassed around me. Especially about this." He squeezes me tighter, then leans over and kisses the top of my head.

I didn't realize how tired I was until I wake up with a start.

"It's okay, I'm right here," Beck says, his voice washing over me and making me feel safe and seen.

I drift off to sleep, but before long, old memories come crawling out of the dark corners of my mind. Drunken fights between foster parents, being bullied by the other kids for being fat, the sharp sting of one of my foster dad's belts as it snapped across my back and thighs, and finally… darkness. The kind of endless, suffocating darkness that drives people mad. For me, the darkness brings me back to the closet I was locked in for three days when I was seven.

"Wake up, sweetheart," someone says, their voice sounding far away. "It's just a dream. A bad dream."

I try blinking, moving, breathing, anything to move closer to the voice. The more I struggle, the deeper I fall into the darkness, like quicksand.

"Beatrix, wake up. Come back to me. You're safe now."

I want so desperately to believe him as I claw my way out of the depths.

"I'm here," he says again. "I'm Beck. I'm going to protect you from everything, sweetheart. From this day forward."

Beck . Conjuring up his image is enough for me to break free of the nightmare trying to pull me under once again.

I gasp for air, my eyes flying open as I sit up in bed.

"You're safe now," Beck whispers, tucking a few strands of my hair behind my ear.

"I'm s-s-sorry," I stutter out.

"Shh, baby, don't apologize. You don't have to talk about it. Just know I'm here. I'll always be here."

I snuggle back down into his embrace, my back to his front so he's spooning me from behind. I almost doze off a few times, but I'm jerked awake by a bad memory or a sinking feeling that I'm in trouble and someone is out to get me.

After the fifth or sixth time of waking up and waking Beck up, I sigh and apologize again. "I'm keeping you up. You can go home. I promise I'm fine."

"No way in hell am I leaving you," comes his immediate response. I won't lie, I love his protective side. "If you want, though," he continues, his voice dropping an octave as he whispers in my ear, "I can distract you."

Beck spreads his hand out over my stomach, softly caressing my skin. That simple touch makes my pussy throb and my skin break out into goosebumps. I should be embarrassed about my nightmare waking Beck up, but God, I can't think of anything else when his hands are on me, which I suppose is the point.

"Yes, please," I whimper, already knowing I'm going to like whatever he does next.

"Fuck," he groans. "You're so soft," Beck murmurs as he pulls me closer to him. Every single inch of his body is rock hard, from the defined muscles on his chest and abs to his thick cock digging into my ass. It feels so good being pressed against him while he continues to explore my body with gentle yet scorching touches.

I arch my back when he cups my breast and glides his thumb against my pebbled nipples. Beck growls softly and grinds his erection against me. He kisses the back of my neck and then nips at the sensitive spot just below my ear. I can't help but whimper when he scrapes his teeth along the same spot like he wants to devour me. I want him to. I want him to take what I've never offered to anyone else. Maybe not tonight, but I've never even considered it with anyone else before.

He tugs at my shirt, managing to lift it up and over my head with little to no help from me. Next comes my bra, which goes flying somewhere across the room. Beck squeezes my breasts and pinches one nipple, then the other. He grunts something about perfect tits, but I hardly hear him over the overwhelming sensations he's causing in me.

Beck slides his hand down my torso, his fingers dancing along the edge of my panties. The featherlight touch drives me crazy. He's teasing me, making me squirm, making me want so much more. I've never been this needy, this desperate, this...wet. God, I'm so, so incredibly turned on right now. I always am around Beck, but right now I ache for him.

He slips just the tips of his fingers beneath the elastic waistband, making me gasp at the sudden rush of arousal shooting through me. Every nerve ending spikes with pleasure, causing more wetness to drip out of my throbbing pussy.

"This okay, beautiful?" Beck asks softly, his voice tinged with the same desperate need I feel.

"Yes," I whimper. "Please."

He groans and wastes no time shoving my panties and leggings down my thighs. I wiggle and help him remove them completely as needy little whimpers fall from my lips, my desire growing each second his fingers aren't inside me.

Once I'm completely naked, Beck runs his hand across my bare skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Finally, fucking finally, he dips one finger into my slit and strokes me. I cry out when he circles my clit with his calloused fingers. My cunt throbs and clenches up, and I swear I'm already right at the edge of total bliss.

"Jesus, Bea. So fucking wet," he grunts, circling my opening with the pad of his finger. I buck my hips and grind down on his hand, unable to control my movements. Beck teases my pulsing little hole, not quite entering me. How does that feel so good?

He runs his fingers up and down my slit, gathering up my juices and rubbing my clit until I'm moaning uncontrollably. I'm right there, so close I'm shaking. So close I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my breath. So close I reach my arm behind me and fist his hair, needing something to hold onto.

And then his hand is gone. I gasp and grunt in frustration, my orgasm clawing its way to the surface but unable to break free. The pressure in my lower belly is almost painful with my pent-up release.

Beck just chuckles and slides his hand down my thigh, lifting my top leg and guiding it to rest over his. This way, I'm opened up for him, giving him more access.

"That's it, baby, goddamn, you need to come, don't you?"

"So bad," I respond, my voice nothing but a breathy whimper.

Beck slowly eases his finger into my entrance, just that little bit stretching me deliciously. I clench around him, coating his hand in my juices as he starts to fingerfuck me in a steady rhythm. He grinds the palm of his hand down on my little bundle of nerves, keeping me right on the edge, the pure bliss amplified by the slight sting of being stretched. God, what's it going to feel like when he fucks me for real? The thought has me thrusting my hips forward, trying to get him deeper.

There's an intense pressure building low in my belly, throbbing outward with each steady stroke. I tighten my grip on his hair, pulling him toward me, letting him know I'm here with him and want this so, so bad.

He groans and sinks his teeth into my exposed shoulder, just enough to sting and cause a jolt of lighting to flash through my body. I feel it echoing in each cell, electrifying every inch of me, inside and out.

Beck adds a second finger, making me cry out with overwhelming pleasure. When he curls his fingers up, hitting that super-sensitive spot again, my entire body spasms, sending more electricity flowing through my veins.

"Beck," I moan. "Beck, fuck…"

Every muscle draws up tight as my joints lock, preparing for the onslaught of my release.

I inhale sharply, holding my breath as the world shrinks down to this room, this moment, this feeling as it rattles my bones. My orgasm tears through my body, pleasure cracking me open and vibrating through me. I moan as I pulse and thrash and claw at Beck's scalp, digging my fingers into his skin to anchor myself.

He doesn't stop, not for a second. My orgasm continues to devastate me, to the point I see black dots clouding my vision. I gasp for air, nearly coming again as oxygen fills my lungs. With a final, shuddering breath, the last of my release drains from me, leaving me dizzy with ecstasy.

"Holy shit," I barely manage to whisper as I gulp down air. I'm still trembling, my muscles feeling weak and worn out from how hard I came.

Beck groans, his fingers still buried deep inside my cunt. Slowly, so slowly, he removes them, a sudden rush of liquid pouring down my thighs. He makes some low, guttural noise, and I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. He sucks on his digits, tasting my cream as he stares down into my soul, those blue eyes burning with desire.

"Delicious," he grunts, licking his fingers clean. He kisses me, long, slow, and deep, letting me taste myself on his tongue.

When we break apart, Beck turns me on my side once more and cradles me in his warm, comforting embrace. I've never felt safer or more taken care of in my whole life.