Just the thought that he's so intent on getting me off again sparks that little kernel of tightly wound passion to start to expand and pulse deep within me. "Oh, I'm close all right," I tell him with an almost hysterical laugh.
"Good," he says, and doubles up on the pace of his fucking.
Beck's jaw tightens, his eyes focus on me with laserlike intensity, and he undulates against me in a perfect rhythm that seems to stroke every single inch of my flesh. His hips pump furiously and his cock hits me like a jackhammer, and he lets out a huge huff of breath just before his eyes squeeze shut.
It's almost in slow motion as I watch his brow furrow, his teeth grab on to his lower lip, and his head tilt back as he starts to come. It knocks and rattles my own orgasm loose and I cry out in surprise at its power.
Beck grinds into me and mutters, "Fuck. Fuck that's good. Fuck, Sela...coming inside of you is so goddamn good."
"Yes," I manage to gasp out as my channel clenches on to him tightly, ripples of pleasure going up and down my spine, curling my toes and my fingers almost spastically.
"Oh, Christ," Beck pants as he lowers my legs off his shoulders. I realize at once that I was barely able to breathe being almost folded in half, and a rush of oxygen into my lungs makes me dizzy.
It causes me to let out an almost maniacal laugh of relief as I suck in more air.
Beck drops down on top of me, holding most of his weight off by digging his elbows into the mattress. He presses his face into my neck, kisses me softly, and then pulls up to stare down at me.
"That was kind of 'wow,' " he says with a grin.
I nod, feeling lighter in heart and soul. Still that little bit of underlying sadness that my quest for vengeance is over, but considering what I just had with Beck...and that I could have that forever if I give this an honest effort, helps to lighten the burden of my loss somewhat.
Beck winds his hands under my back, rolls off me, and turns me into his arms until we are both lying on our sides face to face. He pushes a leg in between mine, brings a hand to the back of my head, and tucks it into the crook of his neck.
"When do you want to go to your dad's to get the decorations?" he asks while the fingers on his other hand stroke up the middle of my spine.
"This weekend?" I ask him back, assuming he can't take off time during the week. "I'm assuming he and Maria will want us to stay for dinner."
"How about Friday night?" he asks hesitantly.
"Sure. That will work."
We're silent for a moment and I start to relax into Beck's embrace, feeling sated and drowsy. I wonder what it would be like to take an afternoon nap with Beck. Just be naked and lazy in his arms.
"Sela?" Beck says after a cough that clears his throat. His voice is tense and hesitant.
"Yeah?"
"JT wants to get together with you and me for dinner on Saturday. I kind of accepted, but I totally understand if you don't want to go. I can make up an excuse or something."
There's no stopping the white-hot flash of rage that turns my blood to lava, and for an instant, I can't even speak because the feeling is so painful it robs me of words.
"I know you don't like him," Beck rushes onward. "He hasn't given you any room to, so I'm totally cool if you say no. It's just...he's still my business partner, and assuming he gets his shit together, I'm going to have to do functions with him and I hope you're by my side at them. You're going to run into him, and I thought...well, maybe you could get to know a little of the JT that I happen to like when he's on his A-game."
I take a deep breath in, let it out. Another in, let it out. I try to think calming thoughts and banish the red haze of fury from my vision.
"You're awful quiet," he says softly. "I'm taking this is going to be a no to the invitation."
I think about the red tattoo on Beck's back...a permanent part of him that I've decided to live with. I think of JT, the living embodiment of what that tattoo represents to me, and my choice to just live with what he's done. Can I seriously be around the man who brutalized me? Can I look him in the eye and have a polite conversation?
Will I ever be able to be in the same room with him and not lust with murder?
I don't know. It's unfathomable to me.
But I do know one thing.
I'm committing myself to Beck, and that means I've got to accept JT is in his life until such time as he screws up that privilege. Knowing JT, that will happen. A zebra doesn't change his stripes, I remind myself, and while he might be putting on a superlative effort to snow Beck at this moment, I know it's only a matter of time before he falls back onto his old, treacherous ways.
So I swallow my pride and my anger and my thirst for justice once again.
I do this all for Beck.
I commit myself even further to him when I say, "Sure. I might not like him very much, but I'll have dinner with him if that's what you want."
Chapter 22
Beck
"I'm a little ashamed," I say casually as we cruise through Sela's neighborhood. We hadn't talked much since heading out of San Francisco about forty-five minutes ago, the rush hour being hair-raising enough to require my full attention while Sela dug her nails into the supple leather of the passenger seat.
"Ashamed of what?" she asks, turning her head against the seat rest to look at me.
I spare just a moment to glance at her, but what a moment it is. Her hair is loose and flowing over her shoulders, and I ache to reach out to touch it because I know how soft it is. One of my favorite things now is Sela falling asleep on top of me and her hair resting like a silk blanket on my chest.
"That I didn't even know that you're from Belle Haven...practically my old stomping grounds," I tell her with a laugh as I put my eyes back on the road.
"Well, not really your old stomping grounds," she corrects me primly. "Belle Haven isn't exactly the hotbed of lifestyles of the rich and famous."
"Smartass," I grumble. "I just meant that you were minutes from me when I went to Stanford. We could have passed each other on the street at some point or even been at the same party together and never known it. Did you ever go to a lot of parties at Stanford?"
"No," she says softly as she gazes out the windows. "I wasn't much of a party girl."
The neighborhood of Belle Haven, located in Menlo Park, is no more than a couple of miles from Stanford in Palo Alto. It's a neighborhood that's had a very bad rap for years and years, and Sela's right...my family wouldn't be caught dead here once upon a time. But it's gotten better over the last five or so years, particularly with Facebook opening a campus here and pumping money into community programs. The violent crime rate has dropped drastically, which made it a good choice now for lower-income families.
Still, it's a far cry from where I grew up. My parents would be absolutely horrified to know I was involved with a woman from--gasp--the wrong side of the tracks. Imagining the looks on their faces actually gives me a warm, tingly feeling inside.
"It's that one right there," Sela says as she points to a tiny bungalow done in a light gray siding with a flat roof and a yellow porch light burning brightly. Even though it's already dark, there's plenty of light from the streetlamp, so I can see the lot is the size of a postage stamp with only ten feet or so in on either side of the house. Still, the yard is tidy with pretty bushes around the foundation and the drought-brown grass neatly edged at the sidewalk that runs adjacent to the road.
I park parallel on the street, as the short driveway has a white work truck and a small black car behind hit. Turning off the ignition, I say, "The family homestead. It's nice."
"Not a palace like you're used to," she says with a quirk to her lips.
Such beautiful lips.
So I lean over and give her a kiss. "I may have grown up in a monstrosity of a house, but it wasn't ever a home. Our condo...that's more of a home to me than I've ever lived in, and part of that is because you're there."
Sela's eyes fill with tenderness, a new look I'm liking on he
r face. The cool, aloof woman is warming up in ways I never imagined.
She reaches out, grabs my hand resting casually between us, and squeezes it. "You're too sweet to me."
"You make it easy," I assure her, actually enjoying the fact that these words of affection come easy to me.
Maybe I was built for relationships but just never found the right one. While Sela always maintains something in reserve that is still unknown to me, I've seen enough glimpses inside to know she could possibly be "the one." She's definitely worth the effort, and I hope that she'll fully open up to me one day. I've no doubt that something in her past keeps a part of her locked up tight from me, and that was evidenced by last week when she lied to me. Even thinking about it now, my shoulders tense up. I wasn't kidding with Sela...I don't abide by liars. I hate dishonesty and secrets and ulterior motives. I have reason to, and it's probably the only thing that could tear me away from her.
But ultimately, what Sela did was more of a fib than a lie. It was her terrible attempt to hide from me the fact she was feeling overwhelmed with everything that was occurring between us. Silly girl went for a walk to get her head on straight and didn't think I'd understand or be sympathetic to her doubts.
All of life is filled with doubt. All of us make calculated risks in our choices, and while I'm not one to second-guess myself, I fully understand that Sela might be having some difficulties in accepting what's going on between us. It's okay though...I'm a patient man.
I'm not going anywhere.
"Beck?" Sela asks softly.
"Yeah?"
"You're the first man I've brought home to meet my father."
I'm not surprised by this, but I am deeply flattered. Still, I know this is a big deal for her, but she's far too serious in this moment. I don't want this to be stressful on her, so I joke, "I won't embarrass you, I promise."
"You couldn't," she assures me, the joke bouncing off her shadowed eyes. "I'm not even quite sure why you're with someone like me."
I tilt my head, squeeze her hand, and admonish her, "If this is a shameless attempt to get me to extol all your virtues, we're going to be very late to dinner for me to take the time to do that."
She laughs softly, places her other hand over the ones we already have clasped. "No, it's just...sometimes on its face it's hard to see us together, you know? Different backgrounds, life choices, paths. I mean...think about it. You are so out of my league, Beck. If we hadn't met at that Sugar Bowl Mixer, chances are you and I would have never had the opportunity to even cross paths."
"And I certainly wasn't looking for a Sugar Baby," I tell her with a chuckle. "And I'm the one out of your league."
"But I was looking for a Sugar Daddy," she reminds me primly, refusing to debate league status.
"You got way more than you bargained for." I lower my voice so it sounds ominous, "I've enjoyed corrupting you, Miss Halstead."
She snorts and releases my hands, grabs for the door handle. "I suggest you don't go saying shit like that around my father. He has guns in the house and he's just itching to play the role of overprotective father."
Laughing, I get out of the car and follow her up the sidewalk.
--
William Halstead is a good man. I figured it out from the minute he met us at the door and pulled Sela into a bear hug, rocking her back and forth and cooing, "There's my baby girl."
It was confirmed when he finally released her and gave me a hearty handshake, clasping my hand with two of his and pumping it vigorously while smiling at me as if I was a knight in shining armor. Sela wasn't kidding...I'm the first man she's ever brought home, and this apparently made her father very, very happy. It again makes me wonder how this smart, beautiful creature went so long without any real relationship. With regard to me, it's a no-brainer. My parents were terrible role models for what a healthy, loyal relationship should look like. But you can just tell that Sela grew up in a household with a lot of love and respect.
Perhaps, maybe like me, she was just waiting for the right one to come along.
--
I'm relieved that the conversation flowed easily throughout dinner. Sela's dad is a gregarious man and a natural-born storyteller. His girlfriend, Maria, is more reserved, but that could simply be because William tends to dominate conversations. I wonder if Sela's mom was that way as well.
"Can I get anyone anything to drink?" Maria asks as she walks into the living room. She had insisted on doing the dishes so we could all retire in here to talk and hang out for a bit before we headed back to the city.
"I'm good," I say, and Sela chimes in with, "I'm good too."
"I'm good, honey," William says as he reaches out to touch his hand to Maria's with a soft smile before she plops down onto the couch next to him.
Sela's body tightens next to me, barely perceptible, but I'm very in tune with her mood since we got here. While she is open and friendly with her father, she's a bit more reserved around Maria, and I know that has everything to do with the fact Sela fears this woman is replacing her late mother in her father's affections. She's not said much about it, but I can tell in the careful mask she keeps in place whenever she interacts with Maria.
"So tell me more about your business," William asks me, his hands folded casually over his stomach. William Halstead is a big man, in height and girth. Sela told me he heads the janitorial staff for the local high school and has been working there for nearly thirty years now. I do believe he's the first janitor I've ever known in my life, a thought that actually humbles me a bit.
"It's primarily a Web-based dating site that focuses on pairing wealthy men with women," I say, holding his gaze steady. Didn't think it would be this hard to tell Sela's dad what I did for a living, but I brace for censure.
"And it's called the Sugar Bowl?" Maria asks with a polite smile on her face. "What's that mean?"
Sela coughs slightly, and as she sits next to me on the love seat, I can see her from my peripheral vision put a hand over her mouth to hide a smirk. I think she's enjoying my discomfort a bit.
"It's a play on the words sugar daddy," William says with booming voice. "I read an article online about it."
"What's a sugar daddy?" Maria asks, turning to look at William.
Sela nearly chokes and her dad shoots her a sly wink. He also saves me from having to explain by telling Maria, "Sugar daddy is a term used for a man who pays for everything for his woman."
Maria turns her brown eyes my way. She's an attractive Hispanic woman who made an amazing carne adobada for dinner and seemed to dote on Sela's dad. You can tell she's seriously in love with the man, but I could also tell that William holds something in reserve, sort of the way that Sela does with me. I wonder if Sela notices that and it makes her feel any better about him being with her.
"So, it's like Match.com, but it focuses more on economic factors?" she asks me, turning my way.
I nod and smile. "That's a good way to think of it."
Maria snorts and says, "Well, I can just imagine what those women have to do to land them a rich Sugar Daddy."
Sela chokes again, a snicker pops out, and she then lunges up off the couch, mumbling, "Excuse me. I need to use the restroom."
All three of us watch her walk away, and yeah...my eyes flip down to her retreating ass for a moment. Luckily, when I turn back to face William and Maria, they're still looking at the hallway where Sela just disappeared.
William slowly turns his face to me and says, "Well, it all sounds very impressive. I saw the net worth of your company."
And that embarrasses me a bit, making me feel slightly uncomfortable. I don't want Sela's dad to judge me on the merits of my bank account.
"She's an amazing girl," William says thoughtfully of his daughter. Maria reaches over and takes his hand, giving it a tiny pat of agreement. "She deserves nothing but the best."
"Agreed," I say.
"But she's also set in her ways," he continues, and this piques my interest. "She views this world in a
certain way and sometimes has a hard time believing in the good of it. Be patient with her. Sela has a lot to offer anyone who has the pleasure of knowing her, but she can sometimes withdraw into herself. You ever catch her doing that, you pull her right back out again, okay?"
A sense of foreboding hits me, and a tiny spark of fear pulses within. William's words are so serious and at odds with the jovial dad of just a few minutes ago that was thrilled to have his daughter involved with a man for the first time in her life.
"I'm pretty sure there isn't anything I wouldn't do for Sela," I tell William solemnly, because I feel that he wants that type of promise. "I'll take care of her."
"Like a sugar daddy?" Maria asks, blinking innocent eyes at me.
I stare back at her completely stunned, my mouth hanging open. Then she starts laughing and points a finger at me while patting William on the leg. "You two need to lighten up. Sela's a strong girl and doesn't need a man making things right for her."
I suppose that's true, but as I look across the living room to William, I don't see him laughing along with Maria. Instead he pins me with a direct stare, conveying silently to me that he expects me to do exactly what I just promised him. And the look on his face says that if I don't, I will see a different side to Sela's dad.
Chapter 23
Sela
I slip on the Tag Heuer that Beck surprised me with last weekend when we spent a day shopping around San Francisco. After Caroline and Ally left, the apartment was almost stifling in its stillness, and he suggested a day out and about. It included a stop at an upscale jeweler where he insisted on buying me this stainless-steel beauty with a white ceramic face and diamonds around the edge, as well as twelve on the face for each hour. It's beautiful and so me; not too delicate, a little bold, and not the slightest bit ostentatious despite the high price tag. I put up an argument against his getting it for me, but Beck shut me up with a simple statement.
"Don't take this away from me. I've never had anyone I could buy jewelry for."
Checking the time, I note I have about ten minutes before I have to get down to the lobby so the doorman can hail me a cab. Tonight's the big dinner with JT and my nerves have been vibrating all day. Beck got called into the office about three hours ago, something I didn't quite understand. He's the freakin' owner of a multimillion-dollar business and yet he was spending his Saturday at the office helping programmers with some meddlesome code. Beck explained to me that they were launching a new platform at the beginning of the year, and while that was still thirty days away, the work was round the clock to meet the deadline. When the programmers got stuck, Beck was the big cheese, and this was his baby, so he went in to work. He took a suit with him, since we were dining in a very fancy and posh restaurant, and gave me a long, sizzling kiss to help ease the sting of ditching me today.