I let my thoughts settle, then continued. “When I got out, I had to figure out how to live in the real world, what to do, and how to find my place. It took me a while to find a job, and though I hated it, it was honest. I lived in a tiny room again, but at least I was free and I could sleep.” I heaved a sigh. “I never really slept that entire four years. I was always on guard, listening, waiting, tense. The first thing I bought with my first paycheck was two deadbolts, and I installed them on the door. I think that was the first decent night’s sleep I had in years.”
I glanced at her, shocked at the tears coursing down her face. “Hey,” I murmured, brushing at the wetness in wonder. No one had ever cried for me until today. “It’s okay, Becca. It’s all behind me.”
She sniffled and wiped away the tears. More gathered in her eyes. I decided to stop talking about my time in jail and move forward.
“Getting the job with BAM was a game changer. The guys opened up a whole new world to me. I owe them everything. My loyalty, my gratitude, my life. I have a job I love, a place to live, people I call friends and care about like family. Who care about me the same way.” I hesitated, then wrapped my hand around hers. “The only thing missing is someone to share it with. I was really hoping you might be willing to take a chance on me, the way they did.”
“I want to.”
“You’re still concerned about my past?”
She dashed away more tears. “No. I’m amazed at what you’ve overcome. How you pushed yourself and became the person you are.”
I drew my finger under her eye with a frown. “Why are you crying, Becca?”
“It hurts me to hear what you went through, and how lonely you were, Reid. Not only in prison, but your whole life. I-I can’t stand to think about it.”
I turned fully in my seat, edging closer to her. She shifted so our knees pressed together. I ran my hands up and down her arms in a comforting gesture. “I’m not lonely now. I never feel lonely when you’re close.”
“How do you feel?”
I smiled, tracing her cheek. “Hopeful.”
“Hopeful?”
“Hopeful that maybe I finally found someone who can accept me for Reid, mistakes and all.”
“I don’t see mistakes when I look at you.”
“What do you see?”
She tilted her head and studied me. “A strong, caring man, who instead of becoming bitter and twisted, found a different path and is more than his past.”
I slid my knee between hers, pushing closer.
“Could I be more for you, Becca?”
Her breath washed over me. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes. I know I’m terrible at showing it, but I want more with you.”
She lifted her hand, clasped the back of my neck, and played with the ends of my hair. Her touch made me shiver and brought a sense of relief that coursed through my body.
“Why do you say that?”
“Every time I’m around you, I get flustered. I have so much to say, but I forget how to say it. I stumble around a lot and stutter.”
She slid her hand into my hair, caressing my scalp. I wanted to bury my head into her chest and let her keep doing that for the rest of the day. Her touch felt so right.
“You do stare at me a lot.” She cleared her throat, her voice teasing. “Especially at certain areas.”
Guilty, I lifted my gaze. I had been staring at her breasts again. Between her mouth and tits, I was fascinated.
I cleared my throat. “Parts of you are pretty spectacular.”
She raised her eyebrows and laughed. “Parts?”
“W-Well,” I sputtered, “all of you is . . . But some parts, yeah, extra spectacular.”
Her dimple appeared. “I see.”
“You make me stupid. I can’t concentrate.”
“You’re getting better. Practice makes perfect.”
“Can I practice with you?” I grinned.
She closed the distance between us, her mouth touching mine. “Yeah, Reid, you can practice.”
Then she kissed me.
We moved to the sofa, both of us more at ease. We kissed again, her mouth far too tempting to resist—especially when she seemed to feel the same about mine. Her taste and the way her tongue felt pressed to mine was heaven. I loved the way she tangled her hands in my hair and the light tugs as our mouths moved together. I pulled her onto my lap, the feel of her curves pressed to mine increasing my desire. Not used to being touched, I found it an odd sensation. Becca was the exception to the rule. I was certain she was the exception to every rule for me.
No one had shown me any affection unless Mrs. Reid gave me a fast hug or Rodney punched my arm in one of his offhand gestures. Aiden, Maddox, and Bentley were big into fist bumps and high fives as their displays of acceptance. Sandy knew my boundaries and accepted them, although I didn’t mind her pats on my cheek and motherly hugs on occasion.
But with Becca, I craved her closeness. The way her hands felt on my skin, her body against mine. Whenever she was in the room with me, I wanted to be close.
The way we were now, with my chest touching hers. Mouth to mouth, sharing oxygen. Our tongues sliding, tasting, and exploring. She made a sound, low in her throat—a cross between a whimper and moan—and it cranked me up, making me want to hear it again. Discover what other sounds she made.
She eased back, dropping her head to my chest, breathing hard. I kissed her hair, the silken strands tickling my lips.
“Too much, BB?”
She lifted her face, a lazy smile curving her lips. They were swollen and pink, wet from my tongue. Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glazed over. I ran my finger over her cheek. “Another spectacular look.”
She rolled her eyes. “BB?”
“I think of you as Becca Baby. If I think it too often, it’s going to come out at work. So I shortened it.”
“I see.”
“You hate it?”
“No. I’ve never had a nickname.”
“Not even when you were little? Your dad didn’t have a nickname for you?”
“No, my dad was, is, a no-nonsense guy. My name is Rebecca, and that’s what he called me. He still does. He didn’t like it when I shortened my name.”
I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Why do I have a feeling your dad and I will never get along?”
She looked thoughtful. “There is that chance. But then again, he might surprise me. He disliked Richard intensely when he met him, and now they get along fine.”
“Why did he dislike Richard? I mean, he’s your boss.”
She sighed, laying her head on my shoulder. It fit there as if it was made for her. I leaned my head on hers as she spoke.
“My dad sees things as black and white. He grew up in a different era, and he forgets things have changed and evolved, I think. At times, he is inflexible. He, ah, accused Richard of having inappropriate thoughts about me.”
I lifted my head, gaping at her. “What?”
“I know. It was ridiculous. Anyone who has ever met Richard and has seen him with his wife would know how stupid that sounded. He adores Katy. Worships her, in fact. I spent a lot of time with Richard at work, and I talked about him. My dad assumed there had to be more than a work relationship. In his mind, why else was Richard bothering with me?”