Dirty Ginger by Stacey Kennedy
10
“Iseriously have no idea how you can eat so many pancakes,” Amelia said, placing another stack of pancakes onto Beckett’s plate the following morning.
He began pouring maple syrup overtop until it dripped down the sides. “Easy. When they taste this good, keep ‘em coming.”
She slid the spatula back onto the empty plate. “Well, sadly for you, you ate them all.”
He shoved his fork into the stack and began cutting. “There’s always tomorrow,” he mumbled before taking a huge bite.
She laughed, moving back to the dishwasher and adding all the dirty dishes inside. Birds danced through the outside of the window, the sunny day their playground. She realized as she cleaned up that having Beckett there this morning reminded her of how full the house once was, not only when Pops and her grandmother were alive, but when Clara, Mason and Maisie lived there too. Mornings were always so loud and busy. She liked having someone to cook for again.
Once she closed the dishwasher, she moved onto her next stage of her plans this morning. Beckett always handled tough talks better after he had food. She took the piece of paper she’d left in the drawer, then slapped set it down next to his plate.
His fork clanked against the plate at his check presented to him. “I don’t want that.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t want the check either, so we’re at an impasse.”
He ignored the check and rose, adding his dishes to the dishwasher. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, that was not your debt, Amelia. Put it in your account.” He turned to face her, his gaze cold and flinty. “If you refuse to do that, I’ll put it in myself.”
Yeah, she could play tough guy too. She crossed her arms. “Then I’ll redeposit the money into your account.”
He snorted a laugh, and it didn’t sound amused when he gathered her in his arms. “The only person you’re going to annoy by doing that is the bank teller. This is a battle you will not win. I cannot live with myself knowing that asshole has your money. Please stop fighting me on this.”
Understanding his point, but knowing she needed a loophole because she couldn’t live with herself knowing he’d paid Luka that much money, she gave him a quick kiss and settled back at the sink.
As she set the pan in the drying rack, strength and warmth engulfed her again as Beckett embraced her from behind. “Thank you for breakfast,” he murmured in her ear. “Tomorrow it’s my turn to cook for you.”
Her eyes fluttered, heat building at all the places he touched last night and this morning. She forgot about these little things that used to be so easy with Beckett. She forgot what it felt like to be with someone who made it a point to talk about all her good qualities, instead of always wanting her to change into something else. “You’re welcome.” Hands still soaking wet, she turned around, sliding her arms around his neck.
He held her close, his gorgeous smile better than any coffee to get her going today. “What’s your plan today?”
“I need to get started on brewing those sample beers and hope to hell they turn out,” she said.
His hands slid around her hips to tuck into the back pockets of her shorts. “How long does that process take?”
“If I nail it the first time, not long, but I never nail it the first time, so I’d think a few days to get the ingredients right.” She paused, considered the work ahead of her and then shrugged. “I suspect some will be easier than others.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
The heated smile he gave had her moving a little closer. “What you’re doing for me right now is more than enough.”
His chin dipped, his mouth mere centimeters from hers. “Which is?” he asked roughly.
“Making me happy.”
“Then I’m doing something right,” he said. He slanted his mouth across hers, and his kiss was sweet, only at first. The force of his embrace kept building. His hands squeezed her bottom before beginning their descent up her back until he gathered her shirt enough to sneak a hand beneath. His touch felt like fire.
Desperation began to crawl through her as heat simmered low in her body, need building and building, and the only way to ease it was Beckett being inside her. She ground against him, and his answering low groan rumbled against her lips. He grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her onto the countertop. His kiss dragged from her mouth to her cheek to her neck where she moaned, dropping her head back as he relentlessly devoured her until she was eagerly pulling him forward for more. Everything felt like it made sense now. She wanted this, Beckett’s touch. She definitely did not have everything figured out—nowhere near it—but for all the bad in her life, she wouldn’t turn her back on something that felt so good. And Beckett’s touch was out of this world. She moaned, arching into him as his fingers tangled in her hair and he angled her head, deepening the kiss. There was absolutely nothing gentle in his touch. Nothing soft in how he unbuttoned her shorts and had them down to her knees. Nothing easy about the way he shoved up her top and her bra, exposing her breasts until he roughly squeezed each one, leaving her gasping.
“Is this what you were looking for, Am?” His voice rumbled by her ear, and she shuddered, desperate for him to fill her.
“Yes,” she managed. Her eyes fluttered into the back of her head as his mouth met her neck, his teeth her shoulder.
She lost herself as his strong hands encased her, stealing every thought from her head as he ground himself against her, the hardness of his cock a tease she couldn’t possibly endure. “I want you inside me.”
His low chuckle tickled her ear. “Better give you what you want, then.”
She shivered as he backed away and yanked the front of his T-shirt over his head, tucking it behind his neck. Then he squeezed her breast, leaning down to deeply suck on her nipple. The heat of the burn shot through it, remarkably building more heat between her thighs. He gestured at her shorts. “Take those off for me.” With shaky hands, she wiggled out of them, along with her panties, until she sat before him naked, her breasts exposed, her sex his to take. He groaned. “Fucking hell, Amelia, you’re so damn pretty.” His mouth met hers again, and he took her breath away with a knee wobbling kiss that caused heat to pool in her core.
She heard the rattle of his belt buckle, the thud of his wallet hitting the floor and the crinkling of the condom wrapper open all before she heard the clicking of his cowboy boots as he moved in closer to her. The heat of his body and the strength of him infused the air as he captured her chin in his grip.
His low groan shivered down her spine as he slid between her thighs, finding her soaked and ready with his hand. He growled in her ear before he was filling her. Inch by inch, he stretched her until she was utterly filled by him.
His hand slid to the back of her neck, holding tight, but the grip felt right, dominating in the best possible way as his other hand gripped her hip. And something even more than that. Something so familiar and perfect and safe that she never wanted to let go of it. He pulled back, inch by inch, just as slow, letting her body mold to him. And only when he moved in slow and easy, both their soft moans echoing each other, did his fingers tighten on her neck and hip.
Then he unleashed himself.
His intensity felt like years’ worth of buildup and desperation on the very edge of exploding. She bit her bottom lip, desperate to keep from screaming against the pleasure pulsating within her. Her legs began trembling with the force of his cock pumping hard and fast inside her, building more and more pressure until those trembles turned into hard quakes.
“You’re quivering on me,” he growled against her mouth. “It’s so damn hot.”
“Please,” she managed.
His thrusts never stopped, one after the other, driving up into her, as one hand came to her breast. His fingers tight against her nipple. The other hand went between her thighs, the pressure she craved suddenly met by his finger pressed against her clit. She froze against the intensity, and she fell into his touch.
All that pleasure built to uncontrollable limits, and she clenched her teeth, sex, everything against the rising euphoria.
He grunted. Deep. “Jesus, you’re tight. Fucking hell…”
But she wanted her turn. She pushed on his chest, sending him back and jumped off the counter, spinning around, remembering how much he used to like taking her from behind. She heard the low rumble from his chest at the view of her wiggling hips. He slid behind her and she found the tip of him, and she slowly took him in, inch by inch, his throaty moan echoing hers.
She sensed him widening his stance as she began to move, slowly dragging herself over his smooth hardness. Until she found a rhythm that brought pleasure. Skin slapped against skin, and their moans danced together as she took him deep. She sped up, moving harder and faster, but failed to get there. She whimpered against the rise of the pleasure, but the cliff was so far away.
A deep grunt rose from low in his chest before he slapped her bottom, bringing more heat to where she wanted to soar. She gasped as he threaded his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back so he could murmur in her ear, “Finish with me.”
Then he did the most unexpected thing of all, he unleashed himself in a way she’d never experienced before. Not with any man, not even with Beckett before. Pounding thrusts had his sac brushing against her, pleasure building in places she didn’t know pleasure belonged.
His fingers tightened on her hips, and he went even harder, sending her right over the edge, shattering her body until she couldn’t remember where she began and he ended. His cock grew harder and bigger inside her, making her eyes water as the pleasure became blinding as his thrusts became harder. Faster. Urgent. Wild. Yes, this felt good, anything this good couldn’t be bad, couldn’t be wrong. Beckett was big, filling her, stretching her, and when as he went faster and harder, becoming unhinged, his raspy moan echoed hers.
Until there was no beginning to the pleasure and no ending, only wave after wave of pure satisfaction as she broke apart around him, vaguely aware of his bucking and jerking as he followed her over the edge.
Then the doorbell rang.
“Shit,” she breathed.
He nipped her shoulder, still deep inside her. “We can ignore it.”
The doorbell rang again.
“I’m expecting a delivery today for ingredients for those samples,” she said. He cursed and slowly withdrew. She spun around and quickly dressed, but first enjoyed his desire-filled gaze. “More later,” she told him, when he silently watched her with a heated stare, burning her up where she stood.
His brow arched. “You bet your pretty ass we’ll do this again later.”
She questioned her sanity walking away for that when she hurried to the front door. She got there on the third ring, but nothing could have prepared her for who stood on the other side.
“Hey,” Luka said.
She noted the bruising still looked terrible, and his nose was in no better shape. “Luka, um, hi,” she managed. But in that second of seeing him again, everything felt wrong. She felt wrong. The pain on his face felt wrong. The shame in his eyes felt wrong, wrong, wrong.
The door was gently taken and pulled back as a re-dressed Beckett settled in next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Hello Luka,” he said, cool and collected, even though his gaze was deadly. “What brings you by?”
Luka went ghost white. He glanced between Amelia and Beckett before he cleared his throat and said clearly, “I came by to let you know that I dropped the charges.” To Beckett, he added, “I did that for her, not for you.”
Beckett snorted. “You did that so you could take her money, don’t kid yourself.”
Luka’s lips parted, but Beckett turned his back to Luka. Surprising her, he took her chin and kissed her. Not a small peck goodbye, but a hard, dominating kiss that left her a little winded when he backed away. “I’ll see you later.”
Amelia wobbled a little. “Um, yes, okay, see you later.”
She couldn’t see Beckett’s expression, but by the way Luka took a step back, she assumed he’d perfected his death glare.
Silence remained until Beckett drove down the driveway and then Luka turned her way again. He shoved his hands in his pockets, barely able to look her in the eye. “I just came by to tell you that and to thank you for the check again.” He gave her a quick look. “I wanted to tell you in person.”
It wasn’t just for that. She read what he needed in his pained eyes before he walked down the porch steps. Suddenly, everything became so clear. What felt so wrong earlier now made sense. His sadness, culpability was all wrong. “You were right, you know,” she called.
Luka froze. He glanced back over his shoulder “Right about what?”
“Us,” she explained. “There was something wrong there for a long time. It wasn’t just you who felt that way.” He turned to fully face her, color returning to his cheeks, hope slowly filling his eyes. Deep in her heart, she knew she had to do this for him, and for her too. “I think I didn’t want to believe it, or I had been blind to everything that had been going with us, but I guess what I’m saying is…” She could hardly believe what she was about to say, “…thank you for stopping the wedding. Thank you for stopping what would have been the biggest mistake of our lives.”
Luka’s shoulders sagged, an obvious heavy weight lifting from him. “You mean that?”
She nodded. “Do I think the way you ended things was right? No. But endings are hard. Emotions are messy. I just don’t want you thinking that you were the only one to blame for all of this. My fault lies there too.” Everything settled in her mind as she decided the best way forward through all of this for herself and for Luka, a man she had cared about deeply, was to tell the truth. “My heart was never yours to have.”
His brows knotted. “What do you mean?”
“It’s a long story,” she told him. “Do you want to hear it?”
“Yeah, I do,” he said, with a soft smile.