Page 16 of Home Brewed (The Perfect Cup #1)

Hazel

I once again find myself on my living room couch snuggled up next to Philip Beckett, cuddler extraordinaire, and, I assume, professional hottie. He declines when I offer to make him a snack, or dinner, or order in, which I find odd. I’m so exhausted though, so I’m relieved.

I quickly changed into a loose t-shirt and leggings while he set up a classic—watching Andy Anderson pull elaborate schemes to get a man to break up with her always makes me feel better—and I take the opportunity to closely watch Beck out of the corner of my eye.

To his credit, he is fully into the movie.

He laughs when they meet for the first time, and when she silently vows to make him wish he was dead.

He gets angry with me when their bosses are being jerks, and soon enough I find myself fully tucked under his arm.

Aside from our movie night post completely reinventing my apartment, it’s been a while since I’ve watched a movie I liked with anyone.

I think back to the fights Justin would pick when I wanted to watch Bridgerton over whatever Matt Damon movie had come out, or a hockey game.

Eventually, I stopped suggesting movies and just asked him what he wanted to watch, which he had no issue with.

This turned into us only playing his music in the car, grabbing takeout from his favourite places, and hanging out with his friends in our free time, meaning I couldn’t go out and meet my own people.

And heaven forbid I spend any time with a guy friend.

I had a friend, Matt, in university. When Justin met him, he hated him right away and was convinced that he only wanted to sleep with me.

It ended up making me paranoid and rude, breaking that friendship irrevocably.

Matt tried to warn me about Justin, pointing out a wide variety of red flags that I ignored, and once Justin had overheard one of those conversations, he suddenly thought that I would eventually cheat on him.

Ironic, huh? So, I hadn’t spoken to Matt since.

It also meant I wasn’t invited to his wedding to his husband, John. Their pictures were beautiful though.

I miss my old friends. Hell, I miss my old self.

“Hey, sugar.” Beck’s arm tightens around me. “I lost you there. Whatcha thinking about?” I sigh, leaning into him more.

“Is it creepy that I was just thinking about how nice this is? That I haven’t felt this relaxed in a while and I think I might be in love with your cologne?

” I tilt my head to look up at him, leaning in more, realizing I probably over shared, but don’t have it in me to care. It’s easy to be this open with him.

He chokes out a laugh. “Not creepy at all, happy for the honesty, actually.” His fingers tickle my arm and leave a small trail of goosebumps.

I let my eyes close for a moment. “It’s reassuring to know it’s working for someone.

And I’m having a really wonderful time with you, too.

I enjoy spending time with you.” His voice gets quieter at the end, a hushed confession.

A small flutter starts inside of me. “Not to mention your taste in movies is impeccable! And don’t get me started on your bookshelf, I’m pretty impressed by what you have up there. ”

There’s no way this is a rebound, right? Does he feel it too?

“Thanks, I do put them there to look impressive. Sometimes I even read them.” I roll my eyes dramatically.

“Well, I know that, but some people have all these self-help books, or only the bestsellers, or things that make them seem impressive. Yours looks like it’s filled with things you’ve actually read and enjoyed.

They all look so well-loved, and I find it admirable that you do what you want, despite trends or the desire to make people think of you a certain way. ”

If I could see myself now, I’m sure my whole body would look like a tomato.

I read a LOT of romance, and my shelf is covered in bodice-rippers, as well as a smattering of fantasy novels.

I know those are pretty popular nowadays, however, some people— ahem , Justin’s friends—made snide comments about how it’s all so cheesy, or childish, or gross.

I didn’t want the shame, so I ended up keeping them all in my room.

“I wouldn’t say I’m brave based on my reading choices, but thank you anyway.” I tuck my face into his side, feeling suddenly shy. He simply twines his arms around me tighter.

“This is why I enjoy spending time with you. This right here. It’s easy to feel happy with you.” Beck looks at me so sincerely, my brain short-circuits.

“I enjoy spending time with you, too,” I admit, and throwing on my big girl panties I continue. “I want to spend more time with you… if you want, that is.” I glance up at him.

He’s nearly whispering now, and the heat that’s growing in my belly spreads throughout my body, pooling in my core. “I want a lot of things with you, Hazel, but I’m scared I’ll move too fast and push you away.”

I’m already shaking my head as he finishes his sentence, and his demeanour lightens. My pulse races and I hold my breath as the arm he has around me comes up to cradle my head gently, while his other arm wraps itself around my waist, pulling me flush to him.

“Can I..?” he asks, and I’ve barely nodded when he leans in and slants his lips to mine. My own hands wrap around him, and I become entirely pliant in his arms, letting myself fall into him, pressing into him. I can’t get close enough.

This is the kiss I have been waiting for, what I’ve been craving ever since that day in his office, the electrifying connection between us humming.

He pulls my leg around his waist, tipping me, running his hand up my thigh as he deepens the kiss, leaning me back against the couch and putting his weight on top of me.

Holy hell, this man knows his way around my body.

I wonder for a second if there’s some kind of manual somewhere he consulted.

Or maybe he took a course? It should be illegal to be able to do these things to me so easily, to make me this needy.

That train of thought is quickly cut off when Beck makes a noise that has my toes curling.

I sigh when he gently parts my lips, feeling his tongue stroke mine, and kissing him back while he explores me.

My hands go to his shoulders, one tangling in his hair with a gentle pull, needing him so much closer.

A deep sound rumbles from the back of his throat, his control snapping, as he pushes me deeper into the couch, pulling my other leg around him so that we’re completely tangled in each other.

I gasp as he grinds himself into me and his lips leave mine to gently trace my neck before biting the thin skin there.

Desire rushes through my veins and heat licks my skin as I let go and lose myself in the feeling of him.

I feel his need for me like a pulse between us. He slows his pace, exploring me with his lips, tracing the column of my throat down to my collarbone, his hands roaming to feel the soft skin under my shirt.

My hands are pulling at his clothes. I’m frenzied, needing him closer, to have his skin against mine, like a parched man finding an oasis in the desert.

His hands graze up my sides, pulling my shirt with him, leaving me in the white cotton bra I had thoughtlessly put on this morning—because if I had thought this was going to happen, I would have worn something much sexier.

Apparently, my newly found inner ho is not a prepared one.

It clearly doesn’t bother him though, his pupils expanding as he takes in the view of me, laid out beneath him for his pleasure. Pure lust is the only thing I can see in his expression. For me . When was the last time someone looking at me made me feel so needy, so desperate?

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He dips his head down to kiss the swell of my breast, earning him a soft whine from me as I arch my back, pushing my chest further into his mouth.

His touch is reverent, caressing and savouring every inch of skin he touches.

It’s electrifying. “So fucking perfect.” He pulls down the cup, exposing my nipple and taking it into his mouth as one hand finds my ass, grinding into me with more urgency.

If I haven’t soaked through my leggings at this point, I’ll be shocked.

I’m so keyed up I can feel my core trembling.

I’m also embarrassed to be reduced to a shuddering mess.

All thoughts leave my head as the arm under my back reaches up and deftly unhooks my bra, quickly relieving me of it and tossing it to the side.

I hear it hit the floor as he moves to administer the same treatment to my other breast, caressing, laving and sucking on it, teasing the stiff peaks until it’s almost painful.

I wriggle underneath him, searching frantically for friction as he tortures me. He looks up from his work to give me a devilish grin.

“You look flushed, sugar, what do you need?”

This cruel, cruel man.

He purposefully grinds against my core, making me moan as I tip my head back and close my eyes.

“More, please, Beck,” the words tumble out of me. My brain goes offline as I try to rub against him again and he chuckles, moving so that his thigh sits firmly between my legs.

“Is that what you need?” he asks when I immediately start to move against him, not caring about the noises the motion is drawing from me and how embarrassed I should be, I can’t get enough.

“I can give you that, you keep rubbing yourself, baby. Take what you need.” He dips his head to lick and suck on my neck again.

“Oh, please don’t stop,” I beg, eyes still closed, “please, please, please.” I’m chanting it like a prayer.

“I’m not stopping, baby, use me for whatever you need.” I let out a groan as Beck pushes his huge thigh more firmly into the apex of my legs. I’m almost there, I can feel it building .