Love and Other Things (Crystal Lake 4)

Beck Jacobs’s mouth on her. Downtown.

His hands all over. Ever

y. Single. Inch.

His body inside hers.

His dark eyes.

His slow smile.

The muscles in his shoulders.

The shape of his butt.

Carefully, she turned over so that she faced him, and now that her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, she was able to make out his features.

Beck was deep asleep, his breaths long and even, his handsome features relaxed. She saw a glimmer of the younger man he must have been, and then noticed a small scar not far from his right temple. Her fingers found themselves drawn to it, and she traced the faint line gently. He had great bone structure, could have been a model, and his mouth was to die for. She leaned up and swept her lips across his.

He was, quite simply, breathtaking.

Sidney watched him sleep for a long time, long enough for her body to liquefy and for that need he’d sated the night before to come alive again. She grinned and pushed at him until he was on his back. She took her time because she didn’t want to wake him just yet. Beck mumbled something unintelligible but didn’t open his eyes.

“You will, my friend,” she whispered, pushing the blankets back. The air was chilled, and goose bumps erupted across her skin as she kissed his torso and moved lower, and then lower still. Until she took him in her mouth and began to knead and suckle. It didn’t take long for Beck to harden, and once he was ready, she straddled him and sank onto his cock, groaning at the feel of him inside her.

He filled so completely. She sat there for a few seconds and tried to calm her breathing, because this feeling was one she wanted to remember. She enjoyed the sensation of him inside her, loved how it felt. His hands had crept up to her hip; he was stirring, but his eyes were still closed. His chest rose and fell, a bit quicker than before, but he was still caught somewhere between sleep and awake, probably dreaming about sex.

She began to move, her body awash with desire as she found the perfect rhythm, her senses inflamed at the guttural sound that came from deep inside Beck. He sounded like an animal.

“God damn.” His eyes flew open, and she saw the confusion at first, then the desire and the need he made no attempt to hide.

“Good morning,” she managed to say as she rose and fell above him. “Since we were already naked, I thought we could do the sex thing again.” She arched her back and bit her lip when his thumb found her clit and began to massage her. “You don’t mind?” Her words ended on a groan as the first ripple of an orgasm teased her.

“Not at all.” His voice was rough, his words clipped.

After that, there was no more talking. There were groans and moans and some swearing. When her orgasm built, when layers of pleasure wrapped themselves around her, his hands gripped her so hard, she was sure there’d be bruising. Did she care? Hell no.

This was, without a doubt, the best sex of her life.

Sid had him one more time in the shower, and an hour later, they walked into the kitchen, Jingle scampering along behind them, her little meows sharp.

“Coffee?” Beck asked.

She was starving, but she knew he didn’t have any food. “Sure.” She made a face. Or cream.

Jingle meowed until she picked her up and cuddled the kitten in silence, suddenly feeling vulnerable. In the bedroom, they’d been enveloped by a cocoon of shadows, but out here, the sun shone, and there was no hiding.

Beck handed her a mug and stood on the other side of the island, bent over with his elbows resting on top of it.

“Last night was incredible.” He said the words so quietly, so sincerely, that she was taken by surprise. Since when had she been with a man who owned such candor? Who wasn’t afraid to expose himself this way? The first time she’d been with Nick, he didn’t call her for a full week because (she found out afterward) he didn’t want her to know how much he was into her. This right here? This was refreshing.

“It kinda was,” she replied shyly, looking at everything except Beck.

“So,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. “What’s your story, Sidney Barrett?”

“My story?” She kept her voice light, even though this, the exchanging of history, was anything but light. Not after a night of the kind of sex and connection they’d shared.

“Why did you come to Crystal Lake?”