the events of yesterday created a massive purge of emotion in my system; the releasing of a huge and terrible secret to Beck; his acceptance and support. He doesn’t know a single detail of what happened to me. He has no clue about the holes in my memory, or my murderous revenge plot. He’s known me for all of a month and caught me breaking into his office, and yet he accepted my word about his partner and friend raping me. Beck brought me home last night, bathed and fed me, and then let me fall asleep in his arms.
Yes, I feel strangely at peace with absolutely no agenda for where I go next other than to find Beck and tell him my full story.
I use the bathroom, wash my hands, and brush my teeth. I pull my hair up into a ponytail and consider putting on a pair of sweatpants, but then dismiss the idea. I don’t forget the fact that Beck crawled into bed with me last night fully dressed, something that he’s never done before. He was handling me with care, treating me like a fragile glass bowl. My heart aches with the memory of what he told me last night.
Caroline was raped.
He’s been through this, and right now, after the harsh realities of everything that happened yesterday, he’s not quite sure how to handle intimacy with me. While the past twenty-four hours have dredged up some painful shit for both of us, it hasn’t changed my want or desire for him. Beck suddenly knowing I was raped doesn’t make me protective of my body. I gave that to him with no boundaries the minute we dispensed with condoms, and I’m not willing to give that up now that I’ve found it. I’m also not willing for him to have doubts or insecurities about my abilities to engage with some deep, no-holds-barred fucking the way we have been doing quite nicely.
So I leave the sweatpants behind and pad out of the bedroom in his white T-shirt that smells just like Beck, and my matching white panties.
My eyes hit the kitchen as I reach the end of the hallway but it’s empty. They slide left taking in an empty couch, before finally landing on Beck, who is sitting on the floor, his back up against the eastern window. He’s still dressed in his jeans and T-shirt, his bare feet planted on the wood flooring and his knees raised. His arms are looped around his shins and he stares back at me with warm eyes.
“Morning,” he says quietly.
“Good morning,” I say, my voice still a little rough with heavy sleep. “What are you doing?”
“Just waiting for you to get up. Figured you needed the sleep.”
“How long have you been up?”
Beck raises his arm, twists his wrist to look at his watch. “A few hours.”
My gaze goes to the mahogany and silver pendulum mantel clock over the fireplace and I see it’s just past seven a.m. I look back at Beck and see his face is haggard, his eyes red with lack of sleep. He looks wary.
He looks scared.
He also sees me taking this all in and his face morphs into a tender smile as he pushes up off the floor. Immediately, he’s removed the vulnerability I just witnessed, a brief moment where I now know that he’s taken the weight of my problems onto his shoulders because he cares for me.
“Let’s make you some tea,” he says almost brusquely. He walks over to me, places his hands on my shoulders, and gives me a chaste kiss on my cheek.
Beck starts to pull away, but my hands shoot out, grasp on the backs of his arms, and I hold him in place. I raise up on tiptoes and place my lips to his. His breath blows out almost in a shudder and I press against him, open my mouth so his opens, and I give him a penetrating kiss.
A soft groan rumbles in his chest, and his tongue slips in my mouth as his arms drop to circle my waist. He pulls me in so our bodies are melded, angles his head, and deepens the connection. My heart soars that he accepts what I’m offering, and I’m content to let his mouth move against mine for a few intimate moments.
We mutually break and he brings one hand to my cheek. “You sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I’m good.”
He smiles, takes my hand, and leads me into the kitchen. I lean