Page 45 of Three Months Yesterday

“Still seems like a pretty big lie.” Beckett’s gaze doesn’t move from the TV where the screen is paused on the final shot—a split screen showing all the different men Cary Grant played in the movie.

“Hmm…maybe.” I turn to look at him, curious what he’s thinking—not that I can read him like he can read me. “But how important is a name? It’s not like it changes who a person is deep down. He always wanted to find the truth and he still fell for Reggie, regardless of which name he went by in the moment.”

Beckett’s gaze slips from the TV to meet mine, and even though I’ve been able to feel his heat at my side for most of the movie, it’s not till this moment I realize just how close we are.

“Did you like it?” I whisper in the silence when Beckett doesn’t say anything else.

“I did.” His response is as soft as mine, as if we’re both afraid of disturbing the air around us.

“Good.”

In the silence of the room, I feel like I imagine Audrey’s character did when she was trying to get the orange from Cary’s character. But just like the movie, Beckett pulls away before anything can happen.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Madison.” Beckett stands, turning to look at me, a wrinkle in his brow.

“Of course.”

Following his lead, I stand and grab the blanket we were using but before I can do anything with it, Beckett gently takes it from my hands, folding it and putting it back in the basket I grabbed it from before we started the movie.

“Thanks for keeping me company tonight,” I murmur as I follow him to the front door.

“Thanks for letting me crash your night off.”

“No, this was good. I didn’t realize I needed it.” I smile, hoping he knows just how much I mean that.

Neither of us reach for the door, and I don’t know which one of us is the one to lean in first, but I know, in the end, it doesn’t really matter when his lips touch mine.

His hands frame my face and he has all the control, but I don’t care. The kiss is soft, yet firm. Maybe a little hesitant, but the moment his tongue slips out to run along my bottom lip everything changes.

I don’t remember ever being kissed like this. Like it’s the first one and the last one at the same time. Like it deserves to be savored and etched in stone so neither of us ever forget it. And honestly, I don’t know how I possibly could.

Before I want it to end, the kiss is over. Beckett doesn’t let his hands fall, though, and when I finally open my eyes, it’s to see the beautiful deep blues of the man who just changed my life with a kiss.

“Lock the door behind me,” he whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead before letting me go and slipping out the door.

I don’t know how long I stand there, but I’m still thinking about the kiss when I climb into bed, even after using my showerhead to help release the pent-up tension.

What the hell was I thinking? I’m not staying in town and Madison isn’t the type of woman to have a fling with. Not because she isn’t gorgeous or a man’s wet dream, but because she deserves so much more than a fling.

Madison Hawthorne is the kind of woman you stay for. The kind of woman you create a life with, a family with.

Not that any of those things stop my mind from replaying that kiss over and over again. Cold shower be damned.

When Madison melted against me, everything changed. The kiss went from soft and hesitant to hard and desperate.

I rub my hand over my lips, still feeling her mouth against mine. Her sweet taste from the sour watermelons she ate during the movie still lingers on my tongue.

It’s a stupid move, one I’ve been able to fight every morning when I wake up, but not today. The moment my hand touches my hard cock the guilt surfaces. I try thinking about anyone else, even a faceless woman, but nothing compares to Madison.

I can’t stop my mind from conjuring images of the things I wanted to do to her—with her—last night.

Instead of walking out of her house I carry her back to the living room, my lips never leaving hers. There’s a desperation behind every touch, but it’s slow and purposeful, drawing out every ounce of pleasure. Savoring every inch of exposed skin as I slip her sweater over her head.

I’d like to say kneeling before her was an intentional move, but I’m man enough to admit I can’t hold myself up at the sight of her bare before me.

The groan that leaves my lips is a plea for mercy and Madison doesn’t disappoint. The heated look in her eyes tells me she’s just as desperate for this to continue.

Gripping her hips, I pull her into me, letting my lips create a path over her slightly rounded stomach and up to one of her pebbled nipples.