TAMED | FREENBECKY

18

Becca didn't know what to think about the drastic shift in her mood over the past twenty minutes. Before Freen came over, she was scared—of the strange turn the West Gate Park killer case had taken, of Dasha's revelation that Freen might be the anonymous tipster, of the possibility that she had once again fallen in love with someone who could so easily mislead her.

But more than being afraid, Becca had been determined. She had sworn to herself that she would ask Freen about the anonymous phone call straight up, to hell with the consequences. If Freen hadn't made the call, at worst Becca would embarrass herself for having lent any credence to Dasha's suspicions. But if Freen was the tipster, Becca needed to know. Not only because Freen could have useful information without knowing it, but also for Becca's own peace of mind.

If Freen had discovered that body, she had been keeping a pretty big secret. And it needed to be brought out into the open if their relationship had any hope of surviving. After Dasha, Becca couldn't deal with more lies. She just couldn't. She was willing to give Freen the benefit of the doubt that she had hidden the truth for good reason. What she couldn't do was look the other way.

But all that fear and determination had disappeared within Freen's embrace on the couch. The simple touch of Freen's hands, then her gentle kisses, had chased away every bit of Becca's negative emotion, leaving her filled with almost crippling desire.

The only thing Becca felt now was a fierce urge to connect with Freen at the most primal level. She could find no logical reason for her wildly vacillating emotions, but she was beyond caring. She wanted to trust Freen—she needed to trust Freen—because, plain and simple, Freen made her happy. Beyond happy. Freen was Everything to her, inexplicable as that was.

Now Becca was another kind of determined. Determined to reestablish their connection, to prove to herself that she trusted Freen implicitly. And the best way to do that was in bed. Before Freen, Becca had never been confident in her sexuality. She had never trusted anyone enough to truly let go and surrender her mind and body completely. But Freen made that easy.

That had to mean something. Didn't it?

Becca led Freen to her bedroom by the hand, nervous anticipation fluttering in her belly. Together only two weeks, they'd already had a lot of sex. Passionate sex, loving sex, laughing sex—Even a little rough sex.

Tonight would be something different. Something special.

When they made love tonight, it would be to prove something about this relationship, about the trust Becca had in Freen, and about Becca's ability to give herself fully to another person.

She couldn't bear the thought that Dasha had broken her forever, that the fear and distrust that relationship introduced into her life could seep into this thing with Freen and destroy it. Freen had never given Becca any reason not to trust her intentions. Whatever had happened that day in West Gate Park—whoever made that anonymous call—Becca believed in Freen. She trusted that their growing feelings were real. By taking Freen to bed right now, she was putting that trust into action.

Becca began to undress the instant she entered her bedroom, tugging her shirt over her head, then unbuttoning her jeans. Freen stopped just inside the doorway and watched with hooded eyes. Becca slowed down once she realized that she had an appreciative audience, walking backward until her thighs hit the mattress. Reaching behind her back, she unhooked her bra with seductive languor. The desire that flooded Freen's face as she bared her body stunned Becca. Nobody had ever made her feel so beautiful. Freen's obvious admiration gave her the courage to perform a playful striptease, something so outside her comfort zone she'd never even considered it before now.

Freen made her feel like anything was possible. Even trust.

Once she was naked, Becca beckoned Freen forward with a crooked finger. "You're overdressed."