Sugar Rush (16 page)

“Merry Christmas, Beck,” he says as I turn from him and walk out of his office.

I make my way down the staircase, wondering if Sela stayed in the music room and how horribly my mother may have been treating her. I could see the moment Sela said she was from Belle Haven that my mother's lukewarm curiosity morphed into acute distaste. While I'm sure she doesn't care about my personal happiness, she's very much interested in making sure that I marry the right person and produce socially acceptable grandbabies for her. After all, Caroline did the unthinkable and had a child from the product of rape, and that just wouldn't do for the North family's prestige.

Halfway down the stairs, I see Sela, standing at the bottom, looking up at me with a warm smile. It's like she appeared almost magically, because she was the person I wanted to see the most right then. I level a bright grin at her and trot the rest of the way down.

My arms go around her waist, hers go around my neck, and I plant a deep kiss on her right there, knowing it will set San Francisco gossips on their ears. I vaguely hope my mother is around watching and that she's immensely embarrassed by my behavior.

When my lips pull back from Sela's, she whispers, “I take it the meeting went well?”

“Better than well,” I say with a brush of my lips against her temple. Taking her by her hand, I start to pull her to the foyer so we can leave. “I'll tell you all about it, but we have more important things to do right now.”

I see Percy at the entrance, grabbing our coats from the massive closet just off the front door. Sela's hand squeezes mine and she asks coyly, “Oh yeah, what's so important that we have to do right now?”

“Don't you remember?” I ask mischievously as we reach Percy. I take Sela's coat from him first and help her into it. “Whipped cream and sex toys.”

I say this, of course, loud enough for Percy to hear and his ears turn bright red as Sela looks at me with wide eyes.

“What?” I ask in mock surprise as I grin at her. “You agreed earlier. Whipped cream and sex toys in front of the Christmas tree when we got home.”

Sela drops her face and snickers. I turn to Percy and take my coat from him with a jaunty smile. I expect to see condescension in his expression that I would embarrass him and Sela like that, but instead his lips are quirked up in amusement even if his ears are still red.

He turns to Sela and bows slightly. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sela. I hope you have a Merry Christmas.”

“I hope you do too,” Sela tells him warmly as I slip my coat on.

Impulsively, I reach out and give Percy a hug. A bro-type hug with a gentle clap on his back. “Merry Christmas, Percy.”

“Be well, Beck,” he says with misty eyes as he opens the door for us. “And Merry Christmas.”

I wake up slowly, feeling sated, warm, and secure. The sun hasn't quite cracked the horizon, so our room is bathed in a bluish-gray light. I'm lying on my side, my head resting on Beck's bicep as he's spooned around me. His other arm is curled around my waist, large palm fanned out across my stomach. I can tell immediately that he's already awake but just content to quietly hold me.

“Merry Christmas,” I say with a rough voice.

His palm presses into my belly and his face nuzzles into the back of my neck. “Merry Christmas. Sleep well?”

I stretch against his hold, testing my muscles.

Yeah…I'm sore, and it makes me smile. “Fantastic. You?”

“Best sleep in a long time.”

I shift slightly in his arms, which loosen to let me snuggle deeper in his embrace. He pushes a leg between mine, his arms holding tighter once again. Smiling, I murmur, “Last night was—”

“Incredible,” he finishes.

So freaking incredible.

When we got back to the condo from his parents' party, we went at each other like starved animals. A quick raid of the refrigerator revealed quickly enough there was no whipped cream to be had. That didn't dissuade Beck, who tried to pull me to the tiled kitchen floor, but I pushed him off.

“I think there was some talk about toys,” I told him. Then I kissed him and bit his lower lip.

He groaned and pushed me away, pointing to the hallway. “Go pick out what you want to play with. Meet me in front of the Christmas tree.”

And I knew exactly what I wanted to play with. I knew that the time was right.

When I came back into the living room, I found Beck taking his shirt off while standing in front of the tree. He'd turned all the lights off except for the ones on the tree, and it cast a warm glow across his beautiful body. My mouth went instantly dry and I walked toward him almost in a trance.

When I was no more than two feet from him, I held my hand out and said, “Here. I want to play with this toy.”

His gaze dropped to my open palm and his eyebrows raised as he stared at the small glass butt plug and small bottle of lube I was holding. It had been in his bag of toys he'd unceremoniously dumped on the bed beside me a few weeks ago and told me to choose. Back then, I would have never chosen the plug, because when you've experienced the pain and degradation of anal rape, it becomes forbidden territory.

But last night…I wasn't scared. Or apprehensive. Or even remotely uneasy about the prospect. Instead, I had an overwhelming need to let Beck take possession of a part of my body that never really belonged to me. It belonged to one of my unknown rapists, and I realized that it was the only part of me left that was still metaphorically unhealed since I met Beck.

He, of course, wasn't as keen on the idea.

He reacted badly, actually. Backed away from me and shook his head. “No, Sela.”

“Yes,” I insisted. “I want you to.”

He opened his mouth to protest. I know it was because he was afraid of hurting me or maybe dredging up terrible memories, but I merely stepped up to him, pushed the objects into his hand, and said, “I trust you.”

Beck's face crumbled and his eyes softened, and he took the items from me. He then gave me the most gentle kiss I've ever experienced, and then he proceeded to show me how caring a man can be to a woman.

Thinking about what he did to me…my body.

The intense orgasm he wrung out of me while showing me just how pleasing that kind of play can be to a woman.

Beck North claimed that last part of my body as his own with soft words, gentle touches, and a little glass toy that felt as unbelievably good as it felt naughty.

“Want your Christmas present?” he asks as he rubs his stubbled chin over my shoulder, producing a full body shiver.

Hmmmm…just thinking about last night.
“If it involves you fucking me right now, in this position, then yes…I want it very much.”

I feel the rumble of laughter in Beck's chest, even as I feel him start to get hard behind me. “That was not the present I was talking about, but I think I can oblige.”

And then he does.

His hand slides down from my stomach, right between my legs, where his magical fingers find me wet. They work skillfully, causing my hips to grind back against him, always seeking more with this man.

Knowing he'll give me exactly what I need.

Then he's pushing my outer leg up, sliding his own body down just a bit, and angling his cock to slip into me from behind. I moan in pure bliss as he fills me up, body and soul.

Beck fucks me slowly as he's spooned around me, the arm that my head is resting on coming up to curve across my chest and hold me tightly. His other hand gripping the back of my thigh firmly to pin me in place. I'm restrained by his strength and the feelings he's causing within me, content to let him leisurely make Christmas morning love to me that is oh so different from the kinky shit we did last night.

He takes me higher and higher, whispering sweet words in my ear, until I fall apart in his arms. He splinters at the same time, groaning deeply his appreciation of the moment that we share.

When the last tremors of our twin orgasms fade, and he drops my leg back down into place, he hugs me tightly, and I have never felt more complete and secure as I do now. Not because of what we just shared, but because my core essence as a human being finally recognizes with complete clarity its other half.

“I think I've fallen in love,” I whisper to the sunshine now pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It seems safer releasing that revelation indirectly, but I can't prevent the words from coming out.

“I hope it's with me,” Beck whispers back.

Smiling, I nod my head. “Yeah…it's with you.”

His arms tighten around me more, nearly to the point of cutting off my breath. I don't care though, because his words fill me with life. “That's fortuitous…because I love you too.”

I look at Beck carefully, to see if something about him has changed in the last twenty minutes since we just shared the L-word with each other. It was unplanned…unscripted and totally unbelievable.

I mean…did that just happen?

After a little cuddling, we both cleaned up and dressed in sweatpants and T-shirts. I look at Beck now, with his hair sticking up all over the place and sexy stubble on his jaw and chin, reaching under the tree to pull out the two wrapped presents.

A small box from him is wrapped in silver with a green bow. It looks like a jewelry box and my heartbeat is tripping at the thought.

My gift to him is larger in a flat box about twenty inches square. It's wrapped in rustic brown paper with an old-fashioned Christmas tree design and tied in thin red ribbon that I curled on the ends.

I sit on the couch after setting down my tea and Beck's coffee. He joins me as I cross my legs underneath me, setting the small gift in my hands. Then he sits beside me, kicking his long legs out to rest his feet on the coffee table, resting my gift to him on his lap.

“You first,” I say as I nod down at the present he's holding.

“Okay,” he responds with a boyish grin, and starts pulling hard on the ribbon. It immediately stretches enough that he can work it free of the corners, and his fingers are tearing into the paper. The brown packing box underneath is nondescript and he glances at me briefly with curiosity. I just smile back and watch as he pulls at the tape securing one end of the box.

Then he's reaching inside and pulling out the picture collage frame that I bought earlier in the week while he was at work. It has a black finish and glass-framed cutouts that provide room for five four-by-six pictures, and it will match the decor of either his home office or the one at Townsend-North.

Turning it over in his hands, his lips curve upward as he studies the photos I'd chosen. Five of us together over the last few weeks. Three of them from Vienna that we had asked locals to take of us. One at an outdoor café where we were bundled in coats, hats, and scarves as we drank Viennese coffee by the Danube. One outside the State Opera House before we went inside, dressed elegantly and Beck's arm around my waist. And one a selfie we'd taken while we waited at the airport for our return flight home. The other two were taken here in San Francisco. One by Caroline at Thanksgiving dinner, when Beck pulled me up from the table and onto his lap after we'd finished eating. He's grinning at the camera and I'm looking slightly embarrassed by his display of affection in front of his sister, but I love this photo because it shows hope in my eyes.

The last photo is a surprise to Beck. He's never seen it before, but I took it lying in his bed one morning while he was still asleep. He was on his back, his face looking so peaceful that I couldn't resist grabbing my iPhone and snuggling in close to him. With my face tilted upward, I placed my lips against his jaw and gave him a soft kiss while he slept.

The picture is magical in my opinion, because it shows not only how beautiful Beck is, but how much I adore him, even when he's not aware of it.

“Sela,” he says, his voice a little rough. His fingers brush over the picture of us in bed before looking over at me. “This is amazing. I love it.”

Shrugging with my cheeks feeling a little hot, I said, “I thought you could hang it up in one of your offices or something.”

“The one at Townsend-North,” he says. “As that's where I spend most of my time. That way I can see it more often there.”

Pushing the box and wrapping paper off his lap onto the couch beside him, he places the frame on top of it and turns to me. One hand curls around my neck in what has now become to me his classic sign of possessiveness, and it makes me completely gooey inside. He pulls me toward him for a kiss. “Thank you. I'm going to have to say, that's even better than the birthday present you gave me.”

I cock an eyebrow at him skeptically.

“It's true,” he insists. “Especially because of that photo of you kissing me while I sleep.”

Warmth spreads through my chest and my heart thumps over the gratitude in his voice. I press my lips to his briefly before I say, “Merry Christmas, Beck.”

“Okay,” he says as he pulls away and picks up the small box that was resting on my lap. “Time to open yours.”

I take the present from him and shake it slightly. Something inside rattles and I smile slyly. “Wonder what this is?”

Truth be told, the fact that something rattled inside throws me off a bit. I assumed it was jewelry, but whatever is inside is loose and has some substance to it.

“Only one way to find out,” he chuckles. “Open it.”

My fingers pull at the paper. I'm not one who opens gifts delicately, preferring to tear into them. There's a small white box inside, and when I pull off the top, I gasp in surprise.

Reaching in, I hesitantly pull out what is clearly a car key fob with a Mercedes symbol on it. My thumb rubs the raised silver emblem for just a second before I turn to Beck and say dumbly, “You got me a car?”

He nods enthusiastically. “A GLK350. It's a crossover. Smaller than their other SUVs but very safe. Completely sporty. It's in the garage. Want to go see it?”

“I got you photographs,” I say with a thick tongue as my face turns back to the key fob in my hand. “You got me a car.”

“Oh no you fucking don't,” Beck says as his hand comes to my chin. He grips it and turns me to look at him. “You do not compare the cost of our gifts with each other.”

My eyes narrow at him slightly. “You got me a freakin' car, Beck.”

“So what? I'm rich,” he says calmly.

“I don't need a car,” I point out. “I take public transit.”

“You can visit your dad more often now,” he counters.

“It's a freakin' car—”

“Do you love me?” he butts in.

“Yes,” I say, blinking over the change in subject.

“Then do me a favor and graciously accept my gift. And get fucking used to it. I'm going to buy you nice things.”