He stares intently at my lips before giving his head a little shake. “No problem,” he mutters, grabbing his plate and settling on the bed next to me.
It’s almost impressive the way Beck wolfs down his breakfast. I forgot what a big appetite he has.
I laugh and point to his clean plate. “Hungry much?” I haven’t made a dent in my food yet and he’s already done.
He grins before patting his flat belly. “Starving.”
“I could tell.”
When I’m finished, Beck runs the plates down to the kitchen. Less than two minutes later, he’s back and sliding into bed. He tugs me into his arms, and I nestle against his chest. When he runs his fingers through my hair, I close my eyes and enjoy his touch.
“Have you come to any decisions about your dad?”
Ugh.
Until this point, I’ve been successful in shoving those unwanted thoughts to the back of my brain where I don’t have to dwell on them. But I can’t avoid the issue forever.
“Not really.” Once we slid between the sheets last night and Beck wrapped his arms around me, I fell into a deep sleep. “If you were me, what would you do?”
He blows out a long breath as his face grows serious. “I don’t know,” he admits. “We have different relationships with our fathers.” His voice softens. “And your family has been through a lot more than mine.”
Thoughts of my sister swirl through my head. Nothing has been the same since Brianna died. Most of the time, it seems like my parents are going through the motions of living their lives.
Although, the man I saw last night looked nothing like the Dad I know. He looked happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. Ten years younger, at least. Instead of having his face buried in his phone, he was actually paying attention to the person sitting across from him.
“Is it possible your mom is aware of the relationship?”
That thought never occurred to me.
“I don’t know.” It’s difficult to imagine that my mother would knowingly sit home alone while my father screwed around on her.
“Maybe you need to give it more thought before you make any rash decisions. Like I said last night, what happens in your parent’s marriage is between them.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, feeling more confused than ever, “I guess.”
Beck reaches out and tangles our fingers together. The moment our skin comes in contact, electricity zips through me. All at once I’m aware of my naked state. And that he’s only wearing boxers. A punch of arousal hits me in the core. Before I can change my mind, I toss the covers aside and crawl on top of him. Beck’s eyes widen as I straddle his waist.
“Did I thank you properly for breakfast?”
“Umm…” When he gulps, it’s enough to make my confidence soar. “Yes?”
My fingers slide through his hair as my lips hover over his. “You deserve another thank you.”
His hands go to my naked back as I press him against the mattress.
“Mia,” he groans.
I arch a brow, enjoying the strange power I seem to hold over him. It’s a heady sensation. There’s nothing but the thin cotton of his boxers separating my heat from his thick erection. All I want to do is grind myself against him.
Instead, I scoot lower, kissing his chest and stroking my fingers over the hard slabs of his muscles. I’ve dreamt about doing this for years. My tongue swipes over his nipples, sucking first one and then the other into my mouth.
A sigh escapes from Beck as he tunnels his fingers through my hair.
I slide lower, kissing my way to his rock-hard abs before arriving at the elastic band of his boxer-briefs. I slip my fingers beneath the material, sweeping them back and forth against his warm flesh. I’ve caught glimpses of his cock, but never this up close and personal. I tug at the boxers until his boner springs free.
His dick should come with a warning label—object is larger than it appears.
I glance at him and smirk. “Impressive.”
Beck releases a strained chuckle. “Thanks. I take great pride in it.”
I refocus my attention on him before stroking my fingers over his erection. “You should.” Wanting him naked, I slide the boxers down his hips and over his thighs before tossing them to the floor.
His cock is hot to the touch and feels like silk covered steel. I’m enamored by the feel of him. With soft strokes, I pet him, running my fingers down the length before carefully palming his balls. Beck groans as I worship his body. Moisture beads at the slit of his erection and I lean down, swiping my tongue over it. There’s just a hint of saltiness.
He releases a deep guttural sound that vibrates in my ears and restlessly shifts his hips.
When I repeat the gesture, he growls, “Damn, baby, that feels good.”