Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl (26 page)

“We don’t have to do anything right now,” I whisper raggedly against her lips.

“What if I want to?” she gripes, and then her eyes widen.

I almost laugh. Willow has never been good at talking about anything sexual. Listening to her talk about her past, I can understand why. God knows what she saw living in that house with her mom and countless boyfriends. She probably felt uncomfortable all the damn time.

I prop up on my elbows to look down at her. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable when you’re with me.”

She rests her palm on my chest, and my heart slams against her hand. “I don’t really think I ever have.” Then she cups her hand behind my head and brings me in for another kiss while arching against me.

I groan, lowering my hips against hers, eliciting a gasp from her lips. Over and over again, we move together, never breaking the kiss. Her hand wanders up and down my chest just like it did that night in her bed. When her fingers find the hem of my shirt, I push back to peel it off and toss it on the floor. Then I lower my mouth to hers again. The taste of her is driving me mad, and when she traces her fingers up and down my chest, I damn near lose all my self-control. Suddenly, the slow kiss turns reckless, our tongues tangling, our bodies moving.

“Is this okay?” I ask as I grasp the bottom of her shirt.

She bobs her head up and down, and all of my reservations crumble as I yank her shirt off. Her bra soon follows, and I push back and look down at her. Her brown hair is a halo around her head, her big eyes have never looked more beautiful, and her chest rises and crashes with every breath. When my eyes descend to the shiny diamond above her belly button, I bite back a moan.

Holy shit.

I skim my fingers across it, and my cock gets hard as hell as she shivers.

“When did you get this?” I ask, tracing a path down her stomach.

“About a year ago … Wynter talked me into it.” She bites down on her bottom lip, grasping the blankets as I reach the waistband of her jeans. “Oh, my God, Beck, that feels so good.”

I just about lose it right there. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” I slip my fingers down the front of her jeans and press my lips to hers.

Perfect.

That’s what this moment is.

Maybe, if we never come up for air again, we can stay this way forever.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Willow

I can’t believe this is happening. Okay, maybe I can. Deep down, I think I might have known all along that a piece of paper couldn’t stop where Beck and I were heading. I was just procrastinating the inevitable. I could’ve fought this longer … Maybe. But when he said all those things—those wonderful things that made my heart pound in my chest and made that crack in my heart heal a little—I didn’t want to fight it anymore. I wanted to have him. I needed to have him. The need scared me because wanting and needing are two different things. Wanting, you can live without. Needing is like air. You can’t live without it.

I don’t want to live a life without Beck.

I want him.

I want to feel safe.

Safe.

Safe.

Safe.

That thought races through my mind over and over again as he kisses me passionately with our chests pressed together. His fingers are inside me, pushing me to that starry place again. I’ve lost all control, and I don’t know what to do about that except enjoy this moment. When it’s over, then I’ll focus on the next. And so on and so on. Sure, the uncertainty of my life scares the shit out of me, but knowing I’m not alone makes it a bit easier. I don’t just have Beck. I have my friends.

I’m not alone.

People care for me.

And I care about them.

I care about Beck.

I care about him so much.

More. Than. Anything.

My pulse speeds up at the thought, but I fight back the panic and focus on those stars again. Those wonderful, blissful, goddamn amazing stars.

His fingers start to slow as I return to reality, his lips leisurely moving against mine as if we have all the time in the world. When his lips finally break away, he touches his forehead to mine with his eyes shut.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

I trace a path up and down his spine. “I’m perfect.”

His lips twitch into a smile. “It’s nice you finally realize that.”

Shaking my head, I lightly pinch his side. He doesn’t even flinch. I do the movement again, doing a little tickling, and he remains unfazed.

“Try all you want,” he says with a cocky grin, “but you won’t get me.”

“Wanna bet?” I ask with my brow arched.

He sits back with his hands out to his sides. “Go ahead and try.”

“Fine. I will.” Grinning, I sit up, push him down to the mattress, and straddle his waist. Then I tickle him everywhere. Well, almost everywhere.

He stares up at me with his hands tucked under his head and a lazy grin on his face. “You missed one spot.”

He doesn’t think I’ll do it. I don’t really want to do it … well, sort of. Okay, I kind of do. I’m just feeling a little shy about it.

I sit back, staring down at him. “You don’t think I’ll do it?”

He chuckles, grinning smugly. “No, I don’t, but the determined look in your eyes is really fucking adorable.”

I think about all those times he tickled me, especially the time he made me almost pee my pants, and suddenly, I really want to prove him wrong. I don’t know what pushes me to go through with it, whether all the kissing has made me lose my sanity, or maybe Beck just makes me feel comfortable enough to do it. Somehow, though, I find enough courage to slip my hands down his pants.

“Fuuuccck.” He lets out a groan, his back arching up as my fingers touch him.

Definitely not a ticklish reaction, but I repeat the movement, anyway. He moans again then reaches up and draws my lips to his. I keep touching him as his tongue delves between my lips and explores my mouth until he moans out my name, until he loses complete control, his eyes shut, his hands gripping my hips.

“That’s not very fair,” I say, removing my hand from his jeans. “I think you enjoyed that way too much when I wanted to get you back for all those times you tickled me.”

He chuckles, sounding exhausted but content. “You want me to show you the secret spot?”

“I tried everywhere.” I pout.

“Not everywhere.”

When my brows lower in confusion, he sits up, slides me off his lap, then leans over to unlace his boot. After he gets it off, he removes his sock, grabs my hand, and sketches my fingers up and down the bottom of his foot. Then he lets out the girliest giggle I’ve ever heard. I trace my fingers up the arch of his foot again and again until he begs for mercy.

After we’re done messing around, he changes into his pajamas while I put on one of his shirts. Then we lie down in his bed together with his arms around me, our legs tangled.

Safe.

Safe.

Safe.

I keep reminding myself of this as my thoughts try to drift to my future. To my past. To the now. All of which Beck knows about.

He knows me and didn’t run. He saw the ugly and still wants it.

I thought I lost him, and while it hurt, I still picked myself up.

Everything will be okay.

Once step at a time. Don’t panic.

“Just breathe, princess,” he whispers, his lips brushing the top of my head. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I feel like I need to get up and do something,” I admit. “Fix the problems.”

“We will,” he says. “Tomorrow.”

There he goes with the “
we”
again.

I like the sound of it.

Probably too much.

Maybe it’s not so bad as long as there’s still a me and him between the we.

I take a deep breath and then another. “What do we do now?”

“Now, we get some sleep,” he says, pulling me closer.

I’m a little terrified to close my eyes, knowing tomorrow I’ll have to face everything: moving, getting a new job, figuring out a new plan. But as I lay in his arms with him stroking his fingers up and down my back, calmness overcomes me enough that my eyes shut.

I fall asleep faster than I have in years.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Beck

I wake up the next morning with Willow’s head resting on my chest, my knee tucked between her legs, and my phone ringing insanely. I make no move to answer it, not wanting to ruin this peaceful moment that managed to carry all the way from last night.

When the damn thing refuses to shut the fuck up, I give up and collect it off my nightstand. When
Dad
flashes across the screen, I grimace.

“Who is it?” Willow asks, looking up at me.

“My dad.” I reject the call, toss the phone down, and pull her close until her body is flush with mine.

“What do you think he wants?” she asks through a yawn.

For me to come to the office.
I hesitate to tell her, knowing she’ll worry, and that’s the last thing she needs right now.

Sensing my tension, she lifts her head and blinks down at me, her hair tickling my face. “What did he do?”

I slip my hands around her waist, urging her to lie back down. “Nothing he hasn’t done before.”

“Beck …” she warns. “I know when you’re lying.”

“Oh, you do, do you? Then tell me if I’m lying right now,” I say, letting my fingers sneak under the shirt she’s wearing. “I want to put my fingers inside you again and watch you moan.”

Her cheeks flush, but her gaze never wavers from mine. “Don’t try to distract me. Tell me what he did.”

I trace my fingers back and forth across her waist, paying extra attention to that diamond in her belly button. “You really want me to tell you instead of doing this?”

Her lips part, but no words leave her mouth as I trail my fingers down between her legs. Right as I’m about to slip them inside her, she captures my hand.

“We can do that later,” she says breathlessly. “Right now, I want to know what your dad’s done to you. I can tell he’s done something.”

“Oh, fine.” I sulk, hoping that will win her over, but apparently, my baby blue-eyed charm doesn’t work on her. All she does is give me a tolerant look. “He blackmailed me into working at his firm.”

She pushes back to look down at me. “
Blackmailed
?”

I sigh and give her a recap of what happened. I also tell her about the files I found on his computer. When she asks if she can see the files, I hand over my phone.

She slips out of the covers, giving me a great view of her long legs as she stretches out and rests against the headboard. She starts searching through files, growing more intrigued with each one.

“I’m pretty sure he’s committing some tax fraud,” she remarks, examining the screen closely. “At least, he did this year.”

“Really?” I ask. “I wasn’t positive.”

“Well, I took a few accounting classes so I could help the owner of that grocery store I worked at during senior year, and I learned enough to know that not all of these numbers are matching up on some of the documents. Plus, I’m pretty sure some of these accounts don’t exist unless your dad owns a dance club in Hawaii, which I’m fairly sure he doesn’t.”

“He doesn’t,” I say, stretching out beside her.

“That’s what I thought.” She looks up at me and hands me my phone. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know yet.” I scratch my chest.

I left my shirt off last night but put on a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms. Usually, I sleep naked. But I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable her first night here. I’ll save the nakedness for later when she wants to strip down with me. Well, as long as she doesn’t freak out again and put an end to us, something I’m still a little concerned about.

“What do you think I should do? Honestly, I want to blackmail him back, but I’d like the opinion of a more levelheaded thinker.”

“You think I’m a levelheaded thinker?” she questions, hugging her knees to her chest.

I tug on a strand of her hair. “You talked me out of thinking we were living in a canvas, didn’t you?”

“I almost forgot about that … Still, I’m not sure if I should tell you what to do with this one.” She rests her chin on her knees. “If you want my opinion, though, I’ll give it to you.”

I nod, moving in front of her. “I want your opinion more than anyone else’s.”

Another smile. Another prize I feel like I’ve won.

She stretches out her legs, putting one on each side of me before scooting closer to me. “Well, I think I can probably give you the same speech you’ve been giving me for the last few months, only insert mom with dad. So here goes.” She clears her throat. “You need to get away from your dad. He’s never been good to you, and him trying to control what you do isn’t right.”

“Yeah, but what if he’s right? What if I need direction in my life?”

“You bought your first house when you were eighteen. I’m pretty sure you’re on the right path.”

I waver. “Or I’m just another spoiled rich kid.”

“Trust me; you are in no way, shape, or form like Titzi.” She slides closer until her ass is between my legs and her hands are on my shoulders. “That girl is stupid. Your father is stupid. Anyone who has ever doubted you is just plain stupid.”

And there it is, the reason I fell in love with her.

I roll my tongue in my mouth. “Fine. I get what you’re saying, but I just have one more question.”

“Okay. What?”

“Can I keep you, like, forever?”

Her eyes widen. “Beck …”

“What?” I give her my best innocent look. “It’s a reasonable question, especially when you’re so damn valuable. Why would I ever want to give you up?”

She rolls her eyes. “Now you’re just being cheesy.”

“Admit it. You like my cheesiness.”

“Maybe just a little.”

We’re both smiling like idiots, but I put a stop to the goofiness as I go in for a kiss, dragging her into my lap.