Sugar Rush Page 35

“Okay,” he says quietly, and I start to turn away from him. But then he says, “Does this have anything to do with the young lady you brought with you tonight?”

This also catches me by surprise and I turn back to him. “Why do you ask?”

My father cocks an eyebrow at me. “Beck…not once in your ten years of adulthood have you ever brought a girlfriend here. Not only that, I can tell how protective you are of her. And whatever this quest is you are on to sever JT from your life, I think the motivation must be powerful. I’m guessing it’s the girl.”

My dad will figure out the details soon enough once JT is arrested for Sela’s rape, but I’m not about to share that with him. Instead, I merely say, “Everything I do is with the idea in mind of solidifying my future with her.”

And for the third time this evening, my father stuns me. He looks at me with admiration and says, “That’s a good reason to make a bold move. For love.”

I blink at my dad, confused over his words. I didn’t think he knew what love was. Hell, I’m not even sure I quite understand it; only that my feelings for Sela are overwhelming to me at the worst of times, and infinitely comforting at the best of times.

Nodding in affirmation to my dad, I merely say, “Merry Christmas. And thank you.”

“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.

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