Victim of Love (24 page)

“Beck?”

He slid down beside me, laughing. “Yes, Olsen?”

“You really shouldn’t follow mind-blowing sex with telling a guy how much cooler your sperm is than his.”

He grasped my chin. “Mind-blowing?” His face moved closer. “Mind-blowing, really?”

“Definitely mind-blowing.”

Beck kissed me, rolling on top of me again, proving he didn’t mind how sticky I was. We kissed for a long time, and I wondered how late it was, then decided I didn’t care. I had no work tomorrow, and even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered. As long as he was kissing me, everything else could go to hell.

Eventually we acknowledged that we should probably clean ourselves up. Our shower together started out as functional, but ended with clinging and kissing and stroking each other under the hot stream. We made love again, my back pressed against the shower wall, and I shot out more of my socially awkward sperm while Beck stroked both of our cocks together with his fist. I came almost as hard as I had in the bed, slightly stunned that I had anything left in me with such a short recovery time.

By the time I got the sheets changed and we climbed back into bed, we were both completely exhausted. I had mind enough to be pleased that Beck had obviously chosen to spend the night, and fell asleep to the sound of his steady breathing beside me, the scent of him making me smile.

At some point in the night, I was woken from a deep sleep when Beck let out a startled yelp. I opened my eyes and he was sitting up, body tense and coiled as he looked at me.

“Beck, it’s me,” I said.

To my relief, his shoulders relaxed and he let out a breath.

“You awake?” I asked, remembering his episode that night down the Cape and Laurie’s hard slaps across his face.

“I’m awake,” he said softly. He rubbed his forehead. “Do you...are you able to sleep with the light on?”

“Absolutely,” I said without question. I flicked the bedside lamp on. I’d sleep with disco lights and The Village People performing in my bedroom if that’s what it took to avoid one of Beck’s nightmares.

Beck’s sleepy eyes met mine and he gave me a weak smile. “Thanks.” He snuggled in beside me, and I wrapped an arm around him, holding him close.

Who is this man in my arms
, I pondered? So quick-witted, so self-assured, yet so vulnerable? My mind was naturally curious, but also accepting. I didn’t need to know every facet of Beck Turner’s life to know that I loved him, and I would do all I could to ease his pain.

I waited until his breathing grew slow and steady, felt the tension leave his body, and only then did I allowed myself to drift back to sleep.

Chapter Fourteen

A Beautiful Mess

There is a unique depression to waking up in an empty bed when there was supposed to be someone there beside you. I sat up, squinting as the morning light hit my eyes. The bedside lamp was still on. But Beck was gone.

I listened for sounds of him in the apartment, hoping to hear him bustling around in the kitchen or running water in the bathroom. But there was only silence.

Resigned to my fate, I climbed out of bed and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. I stopped dead when I reached the living room.

Beck was curled up on my sofa, sound asleep. Head resting on a throw pillow, he slept on his side, knees up, arms curled around his chest. I sighed as I watched him sleep.

What happened to you, Beck? What happened?

What was it about spending the night in bed with me that set him off?

Beck stirred, as though he could feel my eyes on him. He blinked, then smiled at me as he sat up, lines from the throw pillow creasing the side of his face. “Hey,” he croaked.

I wanted to ask him why he’d moved to the sofa, make jokes about whether or not I was snoring, but thought better of it. “You hungry?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He rubbed his eyes. “Do you have plans today?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

Grinning, he said, “Can I hang around for a while then?”

My happiness was such that it wiped away any questions, any worries about Beck’s state of mind, and I beamed. “You can hang around for as long as you want. I’ll even make breakfast.” I noted that Beck was still in just his underpants. “You can borrow some sweats or something if you want. Third drawer in my dresser. I’m a little bigger than you but they should fit well enough.”

Beck got off the couch and grabbed me, giving me a quick, hard kiss. “You’re not
that
much bigger than me.” He lifted me off the floor, then dropped me back to my feet.

“Always so competitive,” I teased. “Go get dressed, I’ll make coffee.”

I watched Beck retreat for the bedroom, admiring his tight ass in his briefs. Shaking my head, I whispered, “Damn,” and moved on to the kitchen.

I made cheesy eggs with toast and baked beans, poured orange juice in glasses and set them on the table. Beck came out halfway through my cooking, and sat down at my kitchen table. I liked seeing him there, looking cuddly in a pair of my blue sweats and a white tee shirt, his hair pushed up on one side from sleep.

“Here.” I set down a mug of coffee in front of him.

“Thanks.” He picked it up, taking a sip. “Damn, you’re a great host.”

I moved back to the kitchen and scooped food onto two plates. “Yeah, well you’re not a bad guest.”

I moved to the table and put the plates down, then sat.

Beck glanced at his plate, then his eyes darted around the room. “So this is your apartment. Didn’t get a very good look at it last night.” He grinned at me, taking a bite of toast.

“This is it,” I said.

He shook his head as he chewed, still glancing around. “You are so fucking neat and clean.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s a curse. You won’t find any mummies or old treasure chests here.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. There’s definitely some junk in my house. You only got to see my garage.”

“Before you kicked me out.” As soon as I said it I winced internally. The last thing I wanted was to be whiny or needy with Beck. I felt like I was on shaky ground as it was, and didn’t want to chase him away. To my considerable relief, he laughed, nodding.

“I really did have plans,” he said.

“I know. I saw you come out of that restaurant, remember? Anyway I was just kidding about you kicking me out.”

“No, you weren’t.” Beck swallowed a bite of eggs then looked at me. “I did want to get you out of there. I couldn’t stand looking at you anymore.”

I coughed on a sip of orange juice. “Oh, well that’s nice!”

He smiled. “It is, actually. I was afraid if you stayed any longer I’d end up bashing Kamal over the head with a shovel just so I could fuck you right there on the floor.”

I poked at my eggs. “Really?”

“Olsen.”

I looked up.

“Last night wasn’t the disaster I thought it would be. It was good. Really good staying here with you. I want to keep trying to make it real. If you still want me.”

His words were so welcome, but recalling how easily he’d been able to fake it, I struggled to keep my hope in check. Still, I responded honestly. “You
know
I still want you.”

He nodded, smiling. “Good.” His smile remained as he went back to his breakfast, and I allowed a bit of hope to creep in anyway.

But Beck threw a slight kink into that hope when he said, “How much does Kamal know about me?” He took a sip of juice then looked at me. “About us?”

“Ah...” I squirmed in my chair. “Kamal knows, um...”

“Be honest, Olsen. It’s all right. I just want to know.”

I sighed. “Kamal knows everything. Everything up until now.”

Beck nodded. “That’s what I figured.”

“I needed to talk to someone. That vacation was whirlwind, and I just needed to purge.”

“Of course you did,” Beck said. “It’s fine. It’s just...Olsen, I’m not ready for my sister to know about us. About me.”

My hope returned with his statement, because regardless of his desire to hide, the message I got was that he really did want this thing between us to continue, that his talk of trying to make it real was not just dreamy bullshit. Why else would he be setting ground rules? And I was certainly in no position to be making demands that he acknowledge me this soon, or ever. I’d meant what I said to him that night on the beach as the fireworks exploded in the sky. I wanted Beck, however I could get him.

“I understand,” I said. “This is between us, and I’ll keep it that way.”

“Do you mean it?” he said, looking vaguely surprised. “You’re okay with this just staying between us?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

Beck’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Then we’re good.”

“We’re good,” I said. “Especially in bed.”

“Ha, yes. Speaking of, can we go back to bed after breakfast?”

I grinned. “You tired?”

He shook his head. “Not in the least.”

Beck and I pretty much tore up my apartment that afternoon. After making love in bed, we snuggled on the couch watching a movie. By the end of the movie, we were all over each other again, and I ended up bent over my coffee table while Beck took me from behind, whispering in my ear how good I felt, how much he wanted me, making me come without even touching myself.

Later on in the shower, I got on my knees and took him in my mouth, sucking him dry, and when night finally fell, he returned the favor in my bed, professing with a smile that he was too sore to do anything else regardless.

I tried several times to get up and set my home in order, as it was a disaster, cushions pulled off the sofa, plates still sitting in the sink, knickknacks knocked off the shelf from Beck pushing me against it to make out. But each time I tried to tidy up, Beck would tackle me and prevent me from cleaning, taking devious pleasure in watching me twitch at having to leave things a mess.

Beck accepted my invitation to spend the night again without question, so I set my alarm for work in the morning, and we drifted off to sleep, Beck’s fingers twirling a lock of my hair as he spooned me.

When I heard him cry out in the middle of the night, I jolted. I watched him in the darkness, sitting up in bed, catching his breath. Since he seemed to be awake and not about to throw himself into a wall or anything, I didn’t move, pretending to still be asleep, afraid of embarrassing him.

Beck left my bed and padded out of the bedroom. I heard the toilet flush, then water running in the bathroom. For just a moment, I thought I heard weeping, then I definitely heard cursing. “Fuck, fuck,
fuck
,” came Beck’s deep voice from down the hall.

When he returned to the bedroom, he stopped alongside the bed. “You’re awake,” he said.

I nodded. “I woke up when I heard you coming down the hall,” I lied.

He climbed back in beside me. “Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s okay.” I pulled the covers up over his shoulders. “Hey, do you want the light on again?”

Beck stiffened beside me. I’d wrangled with whether or not to make the suggestion, but figured if I said it casually and without judgement, it wouldn’t offend. I hoped.

“Yeah,” he said. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” I flicked on the bedside lamp, then pulled Beck in, slinging an arm over his body. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Thanks, Olsen.”

I squeezed him tight. “My pleasure.”

When my alarm went off the next morning, the feel Beck’s body beside me, still asleep in my bed, was the best start to my day I could possibly imagine.

Chapter Fifteen

Time to Play

Keeping a huge secret from those closest to you is easier than you’d expect. Though it might feel like you’re wearing it on your sleeve or donning it as a neon sign over your head, in truth, most people are too consumed by their own thoughts to pay much attention to you, especially on a Monday morning.

I was able to do my work and look my coworkers in the eye, even Laurie, who was on her own high after a successful date Saturday night.

“I’d forgotten what this feels like,” Laurie said as we headed down to the cafeteria for lunch. “When a relationship is brand new and you’re all jittery with excitement. I want you to meet someone nice, Olsen. I want you to be able to feel this.”

“I’m sure I will,” I said. “Someday.”

That was the first moment I felt a squiggle in my gut, part guilt, part insecurity over Beck not being out of the closet. Wondering if he’d ever be ready. And reminding myself that I’d decided it didn’t matter.

Townsend wasn’t at work that day, and his coworkers informed us that he’d taken Pippa to a doctor’s appointment. There were gossipy speculations that Pippa might be pregnant, and my eyes widened, suddenly horrified at the thought of her having to push a giant, Townsend-sized baby out of her willowy little body. Though it would be kind of cool if she’d gotten pregnant while we were down on the Cape. That would be one hell of a souvenir.

After lunch, Laurie and I returned to the lab and got on with our day. When Beck and I had parted that morning, he’d left me with an “I’ll talk to you soon.” I didn’t push for more specifics, restrained myself from grabbing him and shaking him and demanding to know when, telling myself that everything was fine, and I could trust his words. I had no intentions of letting Beck shit on me, but I was willing to accept his offer of giving things a whirl, and trust him until he proved me wrong.

But the relief and exhilaration I experienced when I got a text message from him in the afternoon proved I hadn’t been as trusting and cavalier as I’d thought. I smiled as I read the text.

‘
Was wondering if you want to come by tonight and check out my junk
.’

I typed back, ‘
I always want to check out your junk. What time?
’

He didn’t respond right away, so I pretended to work. Aware that my concentration wasn’t what it should be, I made sure to stay away from any important samples or equipment for the moment. Finally Beck replied.

‘
Whenever you finish power washing your apartment
.’

I laughed, and responded that I’d see him later.