by Scott, Kylie
“That’ll do.” Ethan offers me his arm. “Let’s go.”
Only a few couples are on the dance floor. This time, there is definitely room left for Jesus. Ethan holds himself and me with a stiff formality. I bet he knows how to waltz and foxtrot and all sorts of things. I think I can remember how to do the Macarena. Something tells me he wouldn’t be open to that suggestion. At any rate, the music is all wrong for anything half that interesting. We assume the standard waltz pose and rock back and forth.
“Thank you for running interference, but I could have handled it,” I say when the silence between us starts to unnerve me.
A grunt.
“Is this the part where you warn me away from your brother?”
“Would it be any more effective than Jenna’s mean girl routine?”
I wrinkle my lips. “No.”
“I’ll save my breath then.”
“Not going to offer to cut me a big check to leave town either?” I say, because apparently all of those words I held in over dinner are now intent on spilling out. “Not that I’d take it. But you’re much less high society gangster than I thought you’d be.”
“High society gangster?” he asks, brows raised. “Really?”
I shrug.
“I can see why you two get along. You both have a peculiar sense of humor.” And the look on his face makes it clear exactly what he thinks of our shared brand of humor. Still, he’s out here, dancing with me in public. Especially surprising given he’s made what he thinks of me more than obvious.
“Cutting in,” announces Beck, appearing beside us.
“Wondered when you’d notice she was gone,” says Ethan.
“Something on your mind, big brother?”
“Maybe don’t ignore your date next time. That is if you plan to keep her. I have to get back to the office. Have a nice night.” Ethan takes a step back, giving me a nod and tugging on the cuff of his shirt, before departing the dance floor. Numerous people watch his exit.
Beck’s gaze narrows. Unlike his brother, there’s no politeness or messing around. He slides his arms around my waist, melding us together from chest to knee. “Was I ignoring you?”
I open my mouth to reply, then reconsider and shut it. Honesty isn’t always helpful.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “I’m sorry. That conversation probably saved Elliot Corp. somewhere between two and four million. Time I could have been spending with you. I won’t get my priorities that wrong again.”
It’s hard not to giggle. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, I had a nice chat with Penny. It was fine.”
With my hands on his shoulders, we move slowly in time to the music. It’s just like when we were in the bar, only completely different. Absolutely everything has changed apart from the way he makes my knees weak. And the way he looks at me like I’ve just replaced the sun as the center of the galaxy. That sort of thing can really go to a girl’s head.
“This was a work function for you,” I say. “Perhaps I didn’t quite understand what that entails, but I do now.”
“It’s no excuse.”
I shrug.
“Especially if it was bad enough that Ethan’s commenting on it.”
“Do your brother’s opinions really matter?” I ask.
“Of us? No. Not in the least.” He shakes his head. “Of me not treating you right? Yes. Very much so.”
“Why does he even care?”
“We both grew up seeing our father treat the women in his life like shit,” he says. “Neither of us want to continue the tradition. For Ethan, it means never getting serious with anyone. For me, it means getting things right with you.”
“I think we’re doing fine,” I say. “Considering all of the recent upheavals and the fact that we’ve been dating for approximately two minutes now.”
“Best two minutes of my life,” he murmurs.
He looks into my eyes and, honest to God, I kind of lose touch with reality for a moment. Forget the world and our problems and everything else that matters. It’s not fair. I never stood a chance of not falling far and fast for this man. Then some evil part of my brain reminds me that apparently six women in the room have gotten to crawl all over him naked while I haven’t. And those were just the ones she knew about. Damn.
“Why did you just frown?” he asks.
“I didn’t.”
“You’re not a very good liar, are you? Have you ever considered practicing in front of the mirror?”
“Beck, it’s nothing.”
“I disagree. Something just upset you and I want to know what it is.”
I sigh. “Can’t we just relax and enjoy ourselves?”
“I find honesty very relaxing and enjoyable. Don’t you?” His hands sneak down to cover the uppermost curves of my ass. Our hips couldn’t be any more publicly together without someone getting arrested.
“Fine,” I groan. “Your friend Jenna cornered me in the hallway earlier and said some not so nice things. That’s why I was dancing with Ethan. He walked in on the scene and sent her to her room. Not that I couldn’t have handled it just fine on my own.”
“Of course you could have. I was there when you handed my brother his ass, remember?”
I am validated. Hear me roar.
“What sort of not so nice things did she say?” he asks.
“Can’t we just let it go? Please?”
“No.”
“Ever heard the saying, other’s people’s opinion of you is none of your business,” I say somewhat haughtily. “I actually got that off Instagram. Not sure who said it.”
He just stares at me, waiting.
“Beck…”
“Whatever she said upset you and I’m thinking it might have been about you and me. Now I can’t tell you it’s bullshit and set your mind at ease if I don’t know what it is.”
Dammit. “She said that’s you’ve slept with a goodly number of the women here and are only using me for sex before kicking me to the curb with the morning trash. That’s a rough summation. I may have embellished slightly with the whole morning trash thing. But basically…yeah.”
His jaw tightens.
“Little does she know we’re not even having sex, huh? Joke’s on her.”
He looks away, his mouth a tight line.
“Aren’t you supposed to be setting my mind at ease or something? With relaxing and enjoyable honesty?”
His gaze returns to mine, searching for something. I just smile and hope that’s what he needs. “Alice, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
“I’m a big girl. It’s fine.”
“Jenna wasn’t lying about the other women.”
“I know this is going to be hard for you to hear,” I say. “But I never actually believed you when you insinuated that you were a virgin.”
His smile is kind of pained. “I was always upfront with them. I never let them think that I wanted more. Not like I have with you.”
“Good, I’m glad. On both counts.” I link my hands behind his neck. “There are going to be people who don’t like me. And there are certainly going to be people who don’t like us together. But the thing is, they don’t matter. It’s up to you and me to decide what’s best for us.”
He nods all thoughtful-like. “You’re never going to convince me that there’s a situation where you should have to deal with this sort of shit. But you are also very wise.”
“Thank you.”
He leans down and I lift up and we kiss. No tongue so as not to upset his grandmother or other onlookers. But it’s sweet just the same. Kissing him could never not be.
Then I remember. “Oh, in the interest of full disclosure, she also said that she’d heard you’re an animal in the sack.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I started that rumor myself.”
I laugh and on we dance. It’s not such a bad night after all. But it’s not done yet.
“Busy?”
Beck is slouched on the
sofa at home, frowning at a tablet. “I missed a lot while I was away. It’s going to take some time to catch up. If everyone could just stop sending me emails for an hour or two, that’d be nice.”
“Hmm.”
He’s ditched the jacket, along with the bowtie. But on the plus side, he’s undone the top two buttons of his shirt, displaying the strong column of his neck and that dip at the base. The view is delectable. “There’s a hotel for sale in Boulder that I want to take a look at. It’ll need a lot of work, but it seems promising.”
“Not the Stephen King The Shining one, is it?”
He smiles. “Ha. No.”
“Still, that’s exciting.”
“Signed the papers with Ethan today to buy the Heritage,” he says, still staring at the screen.
“Yeah?”
“Dad liked snatching up real estate in general. It’s more stable than stock in most cases. Diversify or die. Got to make that money work for you.”
“Well, you can tell Catherine if she doesn’t agree to sell the Heritage I’ll wear white after Labor Day and use the wrong fork at the next soiree.”
“How shocking.” He looks up with a grin. And freezes. “Dearest.”
I walk over to the couch, perching beside him. The poor boy doesn’t seem to know where to look first. My chemise is pale blue satin with lace edging. Shoestring straps, skirt brushing the tops of my thighs, and my breasts barely contained, let alone covered. There’s even a matching thong. Not that he knows yet.
“Now, I can smell you on the pillow, so I know you are in fact sleeping in the same bed as me,” I say. “You’re just not around when I’m awake.”
“It seemed safest. Though you’re accommodatingly cuddly even fast asleep.”
“Is that so?”
He nods slowly. “We’ve spooned. Just because you weren’t conscious doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
“That’s a big step forward in our relationship.”
“I thought so.”
“It’s a shame I missed it.” And he really doesn’t need his tablet so I take it and place it on the coffee table. Makes it much easier to climb onto his lap. Facing him, of course. I’m not messing around here.
“Alice.”
I take his hands and place them on my thighs. “Yes?”
“Is this a declaration of war?”
“Hmm. I prefer to make love, not war.”
“This is not going slow.”
“To be fair, I never agreed to any of that. Waiting was all your idea and we’ve already established that it was a decision based on incomplete data.”
“That may be so. But it’s important to me,” he says. “Let’s take a moment here and discuss it further.”
“There’s no need. I already know and disagree with your reasons. But for the sake of getting along and mutual trust and respect, let’s set a limit to tonight’s activities.”
“All right.” Whatever his words, he’s growing hard beneath me. Makes it impossible for me not to rock against him. He’s thick and rigid and feels divine. Tingles radiate from my sex straight up my spine. He swears, low and heated. His hands grabbing at my hips. “Stop moving for a minute. I can’t think when you do that.”
“It feels so good, Beck.” But I pause, reluctantly.
“You wanted to talk about limits,” he says, face set. “I’m listening.”
“You’re a control freak, you know that?”
“Yes,” he says. “But’s it supposed to be a secret so don’t tell anyone.”
I wind my arms around his neck and rest my face on his shoulder. If he gets makeup on his shirt then bad fucking luck. I need a second to think. “You’re driving me crazy. I’m not usually a sex monster.”
“You’re beautiful when you pout,” he says, fingers trailing up and down my arms. “The prettiest pouting, barely dressed sex monster in the room.”
I take a breath and sit up. “All right, here’s the deal. There’s going to be making out, i.e. kissing along with over-the-clothes fondling. We’ve already done some of that so you should be comfortable with it.”
“I accept your terms.”
“And you already let me climb onto your lap so I assume that’s okay too?”
A nod from him. “You are more than welcome to stay where you are.”
“Good.”
“One question.” His gaze drops to my breasts once more. “Are you going to insist on wearing that while we’re kissing?”
“Yes. It feels nice and it’s pretty. I might sleep in it too.”
“Flannel jammies feel nice,” he says. “Or you could even wear long johns. Now there’s an idea. Not only are they extremely comfortable and quite practical, but some might say rather beautiful in their own way.”
“Do you have a lumber jack kink you need to tell me about?”
“No.”
“Then no.”
His tongue plays behind his cheek. “That’s…actually that’s fair enough.”
“Glad we’ve reached an agreement.”
“Torture me with your lingerie. I’m not afraid of you. Much.”
Hand cupping the back of my head, he urges me close for a kiss. Our lips meet and his tongue slips into my mouth, stroking against mine. He’s amazing at this. The man makes my head spin. And I give as good as I get, pressing my mouth against his, fisting my hands in his shirt. Neither of us holds back. Noses bump and teeth collide and maybe this is war after all. Though I’m pretty sure if that’s the case, we’re on the same side. Most of the time, at least. I’m doing my best not to move my lower body in case it’s breaks the current making-out rules, but it’s not easy. Every inch of him is hot and solid. And I’m melting all over him. He wraps my ponytail tight around his hand, palming my breast with the other. Everything in me is trembling when he brushes his thumb back and forth over my hard nipple.
That’s what I want. More and more and more.
My lungs are laboring, heart pounding, and he growls. Actually growls into my mouth. Fucking hell. Maybe he did start the rumor, but he’s an animal just the same.
“This is not slow,” he snarls.
One hand on my ass and the other on my back, he flips our positions. Now I’m under him on the couch, holding on for dear life as he rubs his cock against me, working me to orgasm. Gaze glued to my face, his expression determined, he changes his angle and holy hell. My clitoris has never been so happy. It must be its birthday because this is the most spectacular present in recent history. Which makes it even harder to put an end to things.
“Wait,” I pant. “Stop.”
Immediately, he pauses. We’re both breathing hard. There’s even a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “What’s wrong?”
“Holy hell that got out of hand fast. This…this isn’t what we agreed to.”
“Blame it on your lingerie. I like it a little too much.”
“Hmm.”
“Enough talking. I need to get you off. Right now.”
And considering my nipples could cut diamonds, he was well on his way to doing it too. My sex flutters, empty and sad. Poor innocent thing. “Tell me this first, how does our dry humping session end? With you coming in your pants or…”
He just blinks.
“Let me guess, you were going to go fuck your fist again in the shower?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Twin spots of red stain his cheekbones and his pupils are dilated. “Is it a bad thing?”
“I propose a new rule,” I say, slowing catching my breath. “Neither of us comes until we’re coming together. And I’m talking penis in vagina. Us having actual intercourse.”
Now he frowns.
“I’m sick of being left out of your sex life. You and your rendezvous with the liquid soap leave me out in the cold. And that is the exact opposite of a relationship.”
“Alice—”
“I’m serious.”
“Yeah. I’m getting that.” He raises himself off me and sits further down on the couch. “
Do you think this is going to pressure me into hurrying things along between us?”
“No, Beck. I am not trying to manipulate you.” I sit at the opposite end of the couch, trying to breathe deep and think calming thoughts. Cock-blocking yourself is hell. “But I don’t want to come without you. And I don’t want you coming without me anymore either. If we’re doing this, then let’s do it properly.”
He just looks at me.
“Well?”
“All right. Agreed.” He rests his head back against the back of the seat, staring at the ceiling. “For a control freak, I have surprisingly little control around you. It’s disconcerting.”
“I’m not finished yet,” I say. “I want to go to sleep with you and to wake up with you. Like a real couple.”
“We are a real couple.”
“Look…” How to explain this. “I’ve never lived with a boyfriend or a partner or whatever your official label is. Never even been on vacation with one. So I want this level of intimacy with you while we wait. I need it.”
He thinks it over. “All right. But no more negligees or it’ll be impossible for me to get any sleep. Your tits and sheer materials are apparently my kryptonite.”
“Okay.”
“Come over here,” he says, holding out a hand.
I crawl to the other end of the couch, sitting with his arm around my shoulders. There’s a good whole solid inch of space between our torsos. A necessity given the way his cock is straining the front of his pants. It’s an impressively sized hard-on. I can’t wait to see him in the flesh. But such thoughts are not helpful, so I stare out at the view. Beck, meanwhile, grabs a throw rug off the back of the couch and covers me from neck to toe. I won’t be catching a chill anytime soon. Not that I was in any danger.
“Much better.” He wraps a tendril of my hair around his finger. Apart from the air conditioner clicking on, everything is silent.
“Question. If I’d asked you to come home with me that first night we met, would you have?”
He makes a humming noise. “Answer. Maybe. Probably. Who are we kidding, I wanted into your pants. But the more I got to know you, the more I wanted you to take me seriously.”
“I do take you seriously.”
“Thank you,” he says in a quiet voice. “In case I haven’t said it yet today, I’m glad you’re here.”