Page 134 of The Beekeeper

“I can’t believe you did this…” I said, my voice breathless as I turned in the room.

“I wanted the world to know how in love I am with you,” Blaze said when my spinning landed me face-to-face with him.

The lump in my throat started to swell again. “You didn’t have to do that—to bring them here,” I said softly, knowing the cost of inviting the public into a place that was supposed to be private. A place that was supposed to be a sanctuary for him and Paisley.

“I did, though,” he murmured, closing the space between us and lifting my chin with his knuckles.

“But this is your home,” I protested, willing myself not to cry again.

“No,” he corrected. “I brought them to a house; you are my home.”

My heart felt ready to burst. “Blaze…”

Never in a million years would the teenager who’d had this man’s movie posters taped on her bedroom walls ever imagine in another decade, she’d be standing in his bedroom, surrounded by walls that were plastered with images of her.

“You’re our home, my little queen,” he continued, the rasp in his voice turning my insides molten. “And we want to come home. To you. To your house. To the farm.”

My jaw would’ve hit the floor if his hand hadn’t been holding it up. “You…back to my house?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, especially after seeing this place. It was gorgeous and new and…fit for a movie star and his daughter. Meanwhile, my farmhouse was old and patched-together and…it was perfect for me. Was he really telling me it was perfect for him, too?

Blaze squeezed my hand in his, claiming my attention that had clearly started to wander. “I know it’s asking a lot after everything I put you through. I know I’m a package deal and that I’m probably going to continue to mess things up because I’ve never done this—any of this before, but I need you, Harper. I know I need you and that I—we want to be wherever you are.”

“What are you going to do with this house?” I blurted out, somehow hung up on the fact that he’d just bought this mansion, lived in it for a week, and now wanted to move out again.

Blaze chuckled, sliding his hand to cup my cheek. “Does that mean Pais and I can move back in?”

“Yes.” The word gushed out with a weak laugh. “But⁠—”

“Are you really worried about this house, my little queen?” he interrupted me, arching his brow as he shifted closer, his front coming flush with mine.

My mouth opened and shut, the strings of my thoughts fraying under the blade of his proximity. My skin bubbled up with goose bumps and it got harder to keep my eyes open and my mind focused. “I don’t…I guess not. Maybe a little bit.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with it; I hadn’t gotten that far. I could put it on the market or see if my mom wants to live here,” he suggested roughly, his smile tipping higher on one side. “That’s why I brought them here, Harper.”

Understanding dawned on me, truly, now. The interview wasn’t just to publicly announce his feelings for me, it was to prove he wanted to be a part of my life, not simply make me a part of his. He’d literally burned the ships by inviting the press into this house; he wouldn’t live somewhere that they knew about or had been inside. He gave them what they wanted to see and in turn, gave them nothing at all.

His face swam into focus in front of me, and there was only one more question I had left. “And we’re here now…”

“Because I want to spend one night with you in this room,” he husked, his head dipping toward mine. “Unless you’re okay with me recreating this decor back at the house.”

“No!” I gasped as his lips sealed to my neck, his tongue stroking over the hum of my pulse. As much as I appreciated and would forever cherish the gesture, I didn’t want my bedroom—our bedroom postered with my face.

“As you wish, my little queen,” he rumbled, his mouth moving up for mine. “And that means, for tonight, I’m going to show you just how obsessed I am with you.”

“Blaze—” His name morphed into a moan as his mouth covered mine.

After that, there were no words. There was nothing but lips and tongues and hands and skin. Nothing but fire and ache after two weeks apart. Our clothes landed on the floor, creating a trail over to the bed.

Blaze lifted me with one arm and set me on the edge, kissing me deeply as he pushed me back onto the comforter. I clung to his neck and then clawed at his back when he moved down my body. I was shaking with need, with wanting him inside me, but Blaze had other plans.

His hands wrenched my thighs wide and he settled his shoulders between them, his mouth working a warm path of kisses over my stomach and down between my legs.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he groaned, nuzzling his nose along my pussy and taking a deep breath. I could barely catch an inhale before his tongue slid through the length of my slit. He let out another sound that went beyond appreciation and into primitive hunger. “I’ve missed your sweet honey, my little queen. Missed it so fucking much.”

A cry strangled from my lips as he set his mouth to me, working his expert mouth on my core until I bowed off the bed and clung to the covers for dear life.

And the whole time, I stared at the walls that were covered in my face, the unavoidable reminder that he’d done all of this for me. That he loved me. The thought sent electricity straight through my veins, my pulse galloping under my skin.