“No.”
“It would be for science’s sake, of course,” he continues as if I hadn’t said a word. Typical Beck. “We would have a diagram to mark out your most sensitive spots for future reference. A thorough exploration of clit versus labia. Examine the exact ratio required of licking to sucking.”
“Stop talking dirty, Beck. You’re not going to change my mind.”
“Then there’s the whole finger fucking issue,” he continues. “That’ll need some intense study. Where do you stand on the subject of ass play, just out of curiosity?”
And now I’m waving a spatula around like my mother, which is so wrong given the topic of conversation. “I didn’t sign contracts and move states to mess this up with you now.”
“But—”
“All or nothing, my friend.”
He pouts.
“You wanted me on side with this and now I am. Deal with it.”
“Well, what about watching each other masturbate, then?”
“We both go without until the big event,” I say. “You felt strongly that this was important. That we build our relationship slowly and thoroughly, getting to know each other and all our little quirks in an effort to limit any chance of problems later. Because we’ve both been let down before, right? Gotten serious about people who were not who we thought they were and been hurt?”
He’s seriously cute when he sulks. “Yes.”
“So we’re doing it right, the old-fashioned way.”
“Dad was born six and a half months after Grandma and Grandpa got married. Pretty sure the old-fashioned way isn’t what you think it is.”
“Another week or two won’t kill us.” At least, I hope not. “Just please don’t tell me it’s going to be more than that or I’ll ugly cry.”
“I’m not even sure we’ll last that long at this rate.”
I stop watching him over my shoulder and start frothing the milk. Next comes plating up the bacon and eggs. Toast and butter already sit on the kitchen island. A simple breakfast. Though it smells mouthwateringly good. Can’t buy the boy a Rolex, but I can look after him in other ways. Also, he already has like a dozen different designer watches.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a girlfriend cook me breakfast before,” he says.
“Seriously?”
“They either had kitchen staff, we went out, or I declined to stay over.”
“Bon appétit.” I slide the plate in front of him along with cutlery.
“Thank you, dearest.” He picks up his knife and fork, cutting into a strip of bacon. “So, how much don’t you care about money, just out of curiosity?”
“Eat your breakfast, Beck.”
“This is going to make the family tradition much easier to maintain.”
“Oh?”
“Yes indeed,” he says, loading up his fork with bacon and egg. “All of us Elliots seek to remain emotionally unavailable while throwing money at the problem.”
“Am I a problem?”
“No. You’re my Alice.”
The easy way he has of saying such devastating things. First last night and now this…he’s making a mess of my heart. I don’t know what to say. I’m too busy just breathing and not being all overemotional at his casual declaration.
“Do you have meetings today?” I ask, voice quieter than before. Less bold.
“Just one,” he says. “At the hotel in Boulder. Was wondering if you’d like to go for a drive into the national park beforehand? Head up to some of the lookouts?”
“I’d love to.”
He gives me a lopsided grin before shoveling another forkful of food into his mouth and chewing. Once he swallows, he says, “This is great. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
We have a relaxed start to the day together. It’s nice. I’ve kind of been in a sort of holiday mode since arriving in Denver, but that’s over. Time for me to get busy building a future. If I was hesitant in any way about this relationship before, those days are gone. It’s an odd feeling, being legally bound to someone. We’re documented on paper now, bound by rules and subsections. My signature means I’m serious. Maybe it’s how commitment in a relationship is made, with layers of promises, emotions, and responsibility. By making yourself vulnerable. I don’t know.
Though a text could end things easily enough. That was in the contract too.
After finishing breakfast and washing off the dishes, he checks his cell. “Nothing from Emma or Matías yet.”
“I hope they’re okay.”
“Yeah.” He keeps scrolling through the screen. “Henry is fine and settling in back at school. He says he doesn’t have time to text with us basics.”
“Fair enough.”
“Brian will organize your appointment with the OB/GYN for late this afternoon,” he says. “My doctor’s appointment will also be done nearby at the same time in the interests of keeping all things equal.”
“Is Brian your assistant?”
A nod.
“What if they don’t have an appointment available?”
“They will.” No trace of doubt in his voice. Then he looks up, meeting my eyes. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you, beloved?”
“No.”
He just nods, still watching my face. There’s a question in his gaze. “Okay. Courier will be by to pick up the contracts in five. Last chance to escape my evil clutches.”
“I’ll go have a shower and get dressed.”
“Remember to bring a coat. It’ll get cold up in the mountains.”
What I can only describe as a cross between a futuristic rocket ship and a motor vehicle sits waiting at the curb outside the Heritage. It’s low and sleek and silver. Waving the valet aside, Beck opens the door for me. The interior is black and equally space age in appearance. I shove my hands into my leather jacket, guarding against the wind. I’m back in my casual outfit of black sweater, blue jeans, and my booties. This weather is perfect, brisk and cool. Given how I hate the sun, I make a shit Cali girl. Though experiencing a full-on winter in Colorado is going to be interesting. Beck wears a sweater (swoon), blue jeans, and boots too. Though his sweater is a forest green that brings out the amber flecks in his eyes. How dreamy.
“This is yours?” I ask, hovering near the door.
“Yep.”
“How fast does it go?”
“Very.” He smiles. “Want me to show you?”
“Oh, yeah.”
He smiles and slaps me on the ass. “Well, let’s go.”
We slide through the streets, taking corners tight, and weaving in and out of traffic. It’s a little weird, sitting so low to the road. I’ve never been in something like this before and the thrill is undeniable. My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. Without a doubt, this is as close to a vehicular representation of an orgasm as is possible to achieve. Beck handles the wheel with absolute confidence and precision. And watching him is also a mighty turn-on. I’m all but squirming with excitement.
Once we hit the highway, we speed up, the engine purring as we head away from town and toward the mountains. Tall grass, sunflowers, and clear blue sky.