The Last Letter (Page 46)

“Upstairs?” he asked.

“Here. Now. No more waiting.” Nearly mindless over the steady, deep strokes of his fingers, I grabbed the condom and ripped it open. My hands shook as I brought it to the head of his erection. I’d been right, even that was perfect.

“I don’t know— Oh God, Beckett!” He’d added a third finger while his thumb gently grazed my hypersensitive clit.

“Need help?”

“Yes. No experience with…” I groaned when he curled his fingers, finding that elusive spot inside me that had my hips moving to ride his hand. “These. Pregnant at eighteen, remember?”

He covered my hand with his, pushing us down his length slowly until he was covered. “That may have been the most erotic thing I’ve done in my life,” I whispered.

“Me, too. You take everything in my life up a notch.”

His mouth met mine in a long, carnal kiss that ended with him gently tugging at my bottom lip. His fingers slid free of me, and I tensed as he leveled his hips with mine.

“Nervous?” he asked, kissing the spot just beneath my ear.

“A little. It’s been seven years since I’ve done this.”

He took my face in his hands and kissed me softly. “Pretty sure it still works the same way.”

I smiled and instantly relaxed with another kiss.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he said again, and the words took my nervousness like it never existed.

As if he wasn’t positioned between my thighs, he took my mouth with care and, within a few moments, I had my ankles locked around his waist, savoring the contrast of his hard frame with my curves. He stroked down my body, bringing that fire back even hotter than it had been.

When my hips started rocking against his fingers he leaned his forehead against mine. And when that ache roared, and I reached for his hips, he gripped mine, nudging his erection at my entrance.

“Please,” I said, arching against him.

Keeping one hand on my hip, he gripped the back of my head with the other and brought us so close our breaths mingled, but he didn’t kiss me, simply watched my eyes as he pushed inside me inch by slow inch.

I let out a soft moan as he seated himself, so deep that I could feel him throughout my body, as if he’d pierced my soul.

“Ella,” he groaned. “God, you’re everything.”

He shifted the hand on my hip to under my ass, lifting me slightly and pulling me to the barest edge of the counter before he began to thrust in a deep, sure rhythm. Our bodies moved like we’d been making love together for years instead of moments, like he was the only man I’d been created for.

I wrapped my arms around him, holding the back of his head as he took me higher and higher, each stroke bringing that tension to the breaking point, until our bodies were slick with sweat.

He didn’t change his pace, just took me over and over like it would last forever, like there was no goal other than feeling that moment. There were no alarm clocks, no schedules, nowhere more pressing to be than right here in the arms of the man I loved.

My muscles locked, straining for release, and Beckett kissed me, at the same time sliding his thumb between us to stroke my clit. I came apart, crying out as the orgasm washed over me, deeper and harder than I’d ever felt in my life. He took my cries into his mouth, like he was feeding off my pleasure, like it was more than sex to him, too.

I held him close, emotion taking me beyond reason.

“I love you.” The words tumbled from my mouth without preamble or thought.

He paused, his eyes flying wide. Then he kissed me deep and hard as he thrust wildly, without rhythm, tensing in my arms and letting go, burying his face in my neck as he found his release, my name on his lips.

Before I could feel awkward, he pulled back, taking my face in his hands. Our breathing was erratic, and his slowed before mine did. “I love you,” he said, keeping his eyes locked with mine.

“Really?” It was almost too much to hope, to have that kind of happiness.

“I’ve loved you since the beginning. Nice to know you caught up.”

My smile was instant and matched his.

“Now, how long do we have? Because I’d like to take you upstairs and do this again properly.”

If that wasn’t proper, I couldn’t wait to see what was.

“All night. We have all night.”

“I can work with that.”

And he did.

Another three times before breakfast.

Chapter Nineteen

Beckett

Letter #4

Chaos,

David Robins asked me out today. Who is David Robins, you’re probably asking? He’s actually quite the catch around here. Twenty-eight, good-looking, firefighter, all the romance novel stuff. Any girl in her right mind would have said yes.

Of course, I said no. I told you once, I don’t have time for men, and nothing’s changed in the last six weeks that we’ve been writing each other. I’ve finally got Solitude ready to take the world by storm, and I just can’t afford the distraction.

But then, sometimes when I’m lying in bed at night, I wonder if that’s all it is. Of course I didn’t date while I was pregnant. Sure the divorce went through, but I had bigger matters on my mind. When Colt and Maisie were born, that first year was a blur between feedings and teething and two babies on two schedules. Sure, they’re cute now, but they weren’t so cute at two a.m., I promise. Then they were toddlers, and I was still running around like a chicken with my head cut off, or a single mom with twins—whatever. Now they’re in kindergarten, and I feel like I’m finally getting my feet under me.

But I still said no when David asked me.

What the heck am I waiting for? It’s not like I need a lightning bolt. I’m not a silly romantic girl anymore. I know there’s more to a great relationship than chemistry.

But I also don’t want to end up the crazy cat lady down the street. I’ve honestly never been a cat person, so that would probably be an issue at some point.

What about you? Is it difficult dating when you’re gone so often? Is it something you think about? Happy single? It’s got to be hard trying to start something when you’re usually halfway around the world, huh?

~ Ella

…

She looked so peaceful while she slept. Usually Ella was going a mile a minute—always somewhere she needed to be or something she needed to do, but while she slept, everything about her relaxed.

She deserved to look like this all the time.

I looked past her sleeping face to the clock. Seven thirty a.m. I hadn’t slept this late, or this well since…I couldn’t even remember when. No nightmares and no runaway thoughts, just Ella and sweet, blissful sleep.

Havoc woke, shaking off her sleep, and laid her head on the bed.

As quietly as possible, I got up, grabbing a pair of sweat pants and putting them on. We might have been secluded out here, but I really didn’t want to shock the hell out of any guests who might be taking a morning stroll around the lake.

We made our way through the house, and I opened the door on the back deck. Havoc ran out and was already to the woods by the time I made it down the steps to the patio beneath.

The stones were cold on my bare feet, but I stood there anyway, letting the chill take the warmth of my bed. Cold meant it was real. Ella was upstairs in my bed. I’d spent last night showing her exactly how I felt about her, and if Havoc hurried up, I might be able to sneak back into bed and show her again.

She loved me.

The joy that I felt at that knowledge was tempered by my guilt from knowing that I didn’t deserve it. I’d won her love by default, because she only knew this side of me—I’d kept the other carefully tucked away. Hidden like the dirty little secret it was.

“What do I do now?” I asked Ryan, looking out toward the island.

I’d pushed her away until I’d broken, my self-control next to nothing when it came to that woman. If I’d been a better man, I would have sent her away last night. Would have stopped after that kiss. I definitely wouldn’t have taken her on the kitchen counter, and then in my bed, and in my shower. A better man would have told her the secret then, now that the adoption was done and Colt and Maisie were protected financially.

A better man would have come clean and taken the consequences.

Clearly, I was not the better man.

I hadn’t told her because I didn’t want to lose the look from her face. Didn’t want to lose the warmth of her love, her body, her heart. I wasn’t ready for my dream to be over yet. Hell, I didn’t tell her because I was selfish and in so deep now that there was no getting out.

Havoc ran back to me, and I rubbed her behind the ears. “Shall we grab some breakfast?”

We walked up the deck stairs and through the sliding glass door.

“Oh!” Ella paused with her butt in the air, trying to get her shoe on. “Good morning?” She was already dressed in what she’d worn on our date, her hair pulled up in a knot, and her cheeks rosy from sleep and sex.

“Was that a question? Because I happen to think it’s a pretty great morning.” I walked through the living room to where she stood at the edge of the kitchen.

“Well, yeah. I mean, I think so?” She gave me an awkward smile that would have made any rom-com director proud.

“But you’re not sure?”

Her eyes ran down my chest and back up, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of pink. “No, I’m sure. It’s a good morning.”

Holy crap, she was embarrassed. My Ella, who didn’t care what anyone thought of her, was all sorts of discombobulated in my kitchen at seven in the morning.

“Coffee?” I asked, letting my hand slide around her waist to her back as I passed by her.

“Oh. I have to get home. I’m sure the kids are up and…all that.” She started looking around the counter, moving the coffee maker to the side.

“Ella, what are you looking for?” I asked.

“My keys? I know I had them, right? Because I drove over, but I don’t remember what happened to them once I walked in. I got distracted, I guess.”

I reached for her hand, taking hold of it and turning her to face me. “You didn’t have them when you walked in. My guess would be that they’re in your car.”