Page 70 of Teach Me to Laugh

“No,” she moaned, but I could already hear it—her need for me.

I grinned and I knew she could feel it against her shoulder. I hovered above the sensitive flesh of her throat just behind her ear, blowing gently. She shivered. “Say yes, beautiful.”

“Beckett,” she sighed—and then she rolled onto her back. “Yes.”

I liked this woman sleepy, but I knew I’d love her sleepy and sated. I set about achieving this new goal as I claimed her mouth. She was on her back now, but still in a tangle with my sheets. It was no matter; I’d had her so many times the night before, exhausting her to the point where she hadn’t even had the energy to put clothes on. She might be wrapped up in my sheets, but she was still naked.

I took my time kissing her. Need for her swam through my veins, but I resisted. I wanted to work her into a mess of need so strong and so intense; she’d be consumed with it. So I kissed her long, and I kissed her gently. I touched her with the exploration of a first time even though I’d had her countless times since the cabin. But I knew it would never change. I could explore her beautiful body a thousand times in as many days, and each time it would excite me this same way. I could never grow tired of hearing her breathy sighs, of feeling the flush of warm heat against her skin, of feeling the softness of her body beneath my own.

“Beckett,” she breathed and my need soared.

Still, I wasn’t finished exploring. When her hand came up in a sleepy motion to touch the side of my neck, I caught her wrist and brought her fingers to my lips. I kissed each one, before pressing my mouth to her palm and then to her wrist where I felt her pulse racing. This woman was a weakness like no other, and yet she was my strength. I couldn’t fathom there was a thing on this earth that I couldn’t give her, if only she asked.

So when her blue eyes fluttered open and she whispered, “Make love to me,” I was helpless to refuse.

I took her. Soft and slow. Doing exactly as I promised—all the work. And then I joined her in the shower, because we both had to be up early this morning. She had breakfast with the girls before work and I had to meet Kaiden at the gym.

It was later in the afternoon while I was sitting at the island with my books open, unable to stop thinking about the way she’d leaned into me as we parted ways this morning. Her breasts pressed to my chest and the sound of her throaty accusation, “you’re insatiable,” sent heat pulsing through my veins.

I’d never missed a woman the way I was missing Amara right this moment. I thought about texting her, but I sensed even that wouldn’t be enough. I needed to see her. Smell her. Touch her.

Slapping my books closed, I packed them up, grabbed my keys and drove determinedly to the Library. That’s when I felt the ache I’d been culturing abate. Joel, her co-worker, was pushing a cart of books toward her, and she was smiling. It wasn’t the full smile she gave me, but it was something. I liked seeing it. I liked knowing she felt safely content in her life now, and that smiling free was something she was able to let herself do. It felt good knowing that in a way, I’d played a part in her finding her happiness.

When her eyes lifted and she caught sight of me standing with my book bag over my shoulder, leaning against a pillar, her smile got even wider. “Hey,” she mouthed, waving for me to come closer. I didn’t make her wait as I strode with purpose towardmywoman.

Then, with a hand on her waist, I pulled her in close.Touch.I kissed her temple.Smell.And she pulled back to shine another full smile up at me.Sight.I had everything I’d felt so desperately that I needed.

“What are you doing here?”

I shrugged, playing off the feeling of intensity that had driven me to come to the Library. “I figured I’d study here. If I look at our kitchen any longer, I’m not sure what will happen.”

“That table,” she pointed to a free table beside the desk she worked at. “I’ll sit with you while you study.”

I raised a brow at the cart of books. “That so?”

“After I put these away.” She amended. “You know I’m a machine at stocking books, though.”

“True.” I did know that. “Meet you there in a bit.”

I watched as she moved away, lugging her big stack of books behind her. And then I thought, not for the first or the last time, that I was a lucky man.

I’d been serious with Beckett for just over a month. I’d never really been huge on winter, as I’d never really loved the cold or had anyone to enjoy winter sports or the Christmas holiday with, but now I had Beckett. And I knew that if I didn’t let my psycho crazyAmara restrictionscome out to play, I’d more than likely always have Beckett. So it was as we were walking hand in handon a Saturday morning that I decided I now loved winter.

I loved the cold, because with every little shiver Beckett pulled me into his arms for a quick “warming hug” as he called it. I loved winter sports, because I knew he’d teach me everything I wanted to know, and what he didn’t already know, if I wanted to learn, he’d assured me we would learn together. And I loved the Christmas holiday, because it was through the blessed bliss of that holiday that I finally let my heart fall for a man. I finally experienced the beauty of love in its truest, kindest, and unbridled form. I finally felt like I had family.

So it was this morning as we walked hand in hand beneath the unusually bright February sun, to the coffee shop I’d declared Beckett had to visit if only just once, that I realized I was finally happy. Although I’d always be touched by my past, the repressing hand of my memories no longer dictated my life. I didn’t feel the crushing fear weighing down on my soul as I smiled, free and easy. I was finally living. Living and loving and—laughing.

Beckett glanced down, his lashes sweeping his cheeks as his warm whiskey eyes connected with mine. And then his lips twitched at the corners and his hand came to catch me by the nape of my neck, twirling me into him for a quick hot kiss.

When he released me, I felt swept away in the tide of all that this wonderful man was. And for the first time in my life, I glanced around to see that there were people looking at me with something akin to appreciative envy. That was when I realized that I had it. I had what everyone wanted—what we as souls strove to find. I had it, and I had it with Beckett Davis.

So I smiled. I smiled big and I smiled proud as we walked hand in hand into the coffee shop.

“And she’ll get one of your long john donuts. The one with the rainbow sprinkles.” Beckett added to our order.

“I don’t need a donut,” I scoffed, bumping him with my elbow. “Especially not a long john.”

“You do.” He said firmly, giving the cashier no nonsense eyes. “She does.”

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