by York, Marie
He didn’t answer me. Instead, his eyes bore into mine, making desire and want pool between my thighs.
Erica’s grip fell from my arm, as she held out her hand to Beckham. “Hi, I’m Erica,” she said, knocking Beckham’s attention away from me.
He shook his head and held his hand out to her. “Beckham.”
“Nice to meet you. I didn’t know we were bringing dates,” she said.
Without his hot, intense stare on me, I could think straight. “Me either. I mean we’re not. I’m sure Beckham was just leaving. Right, Becks?”
“Actually, no. You said you were going to the Star Room earlier, and I thought to myself, man I haven’t been there in the longest time. I could go for a night out. So here I am. Hope I’m not intruding.”
I knew what he was doing. He wasn’t here to go out with us and have a good time. No. He was here to be my goddamn chaperone.
“Sorry, girls only,” I said, and pulled the door shut. “Maybe next time.”
I started walking when I realized neither Erica nor Beckham were beside me. I turned around to find them still outside our door laughing. A pang of jealousy hit me low in the gut. If he hooked up with Erica, I don’t think I’d ever recover.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded.
“Becks, was just telling me about your hometown,” Erica explained.
She was already on a nickname basis with him. I seriously walked away for two point five seconds. I tried to control my eye roll. “Yeah, that’s hilarious.”
“It is when they’re stories about you,” he said with a wink, and my lip curled in annoyance.
“We’re leaving.” I linked my arm back through Erica’s, but she didn’t take the cue to walk away.
“You should come,” she said to Beckham, and she might as well have held up a flag declaring her treachery.
His smile was so sweet; it made me sick like I had too much cotton candy at the fair. “If you insist,” he purred, and I waited for him to lower his head so Erica could scratch behind his ear.
She giggled, and I started questioning our friendship. “Becks, are you driving?” Erica asked.
“Sure. Car’s in the back. Black Nissan Maxima.”
“That things still running?” I scoffed.
“Don’t you knock my baby. Do I have to remind you how many rides she has given you?”
He had given me plenty of rides in that car, but really, all I ever wanted was to ride him. Being so close to him, smelling his masculine scent, feeling the warmth radiating off of his arm that kept grazing mine in this small hallway, was driving me mad. “Don’t you have your own friends?” I snapped.
“Yes, but why would I want to hang out with them when I can spend time with you?” He winked and caught up to Erica. He unlocked the passenger door and helped her into the car. I did my best not to pay attention to him and his gorgeous face, but that proved difficult and no matter how hard I tried to focus on something else, anything else, my eyes kept drifting back to him.
My night might not have been going according to plan, but there was one thing that was locked in stone. I was going home with someone tonight, and it wasn’t going to be Erica.
Chapter 6
Kennedy
The Star Room was everything I imagined and more. Music pounded from all directions, and people lined the bar, all doing their best to get the bartender’s attention. Bodyguards that looked more like walking walls than people stood in the corners, watching over the crowd.
Erica grabbed my arm and dragged me over to the bar. “Let’s do a shot.”
Beckham stayed close, his chest pressing against my back. He leaned down to my ear. “I don’t think shots are a good idea.”
I turned until I was looking straight at him. “And, if I remember correctly, you invited yourself so really I don’t care what you think.” I looped my arm through Erica’s. “Let’s make it a double.”
She pointed at Beckham and leaned into him. “Do you want one?”
He shook his head no, and I rolled my eyes. He could act like a perfect little angel all he wanted, but we both knew that was a lie. He thrived on being the life of the party. Throwing back a few beers in Nixon’s bedroom was only a small portion of his drinking adventures.
Erica squeezed her tiny ass through the crowd and used her boobs to get the bartender’s attention. She jumped up, using her arms as leverage, and leaned toward him. “Four lemon drop shots,” she yelled into his ear.
He lined up the shot glasses, then grabbed the citron vodka and coated four lemons slices with sugar. He slid the lemons over on a napkin and took Erica’s money.
Erica handed me a shot and held hers up. “To the next four years.” We carefully clinked our glasses before downing the shot.
The liquid burned its way down my throat and I took a bite from the lemon. Beckham’s eyes stayed glued on mine, watching my every move. I picked up the next shot, and lifted it to him before downing that one, too.
“Let’s dance,” I yelled to Erica. I grabbed her hand, and pulled her out to the dance floor.
Beckham went to the bar, and ordered a beer. He found a corner, and leaned against the wall, sipping his beer and watching me.
A red head with a tiny skirt and legs a mile long walked over to him, and didn’t waste a second before she was touching his chest, and doing her best flirting. I waited for the pang of jealousy, but it never came. Beckham wouldn’t give her the time of day. He smiled at her, but nothing more. His eyes were still completely fixated on me.
Erica spotted people she knew from class, and joined their dance circle, while I hung out at the rear.
I closed my eyes, letting the music and the alcohol take over. My body swayed from left-to-right feeling the rhythm and absorbing every beat. I felt free, completely weightless and uninhibited. And knowing Beckham was watching me, I felt sexy and alive.
The music slowed, and so did I. Large hands wrapped around my sides, and I leaned into the hot chest pressed against me. It wasn’t Beckham’s, but it would do. I continued to sway to the music as I felt his hands move down my sides, making their way to the cutouts of my dress, when they were suddenly gone.
I opened my eyes and spun around. Beckham’s death stare fixated on some guy who was a good four inches shorter than him. The guy held his hands up and backed away. “Sorry dude. Didn’t know,” he said, and turned to a new girl.
“What the fuck?” I yelled to Beckham.
His large hand snaked around me, yanking me tight against him. “Dance with me,” he commanded, and even though the refusal was sitting on my tongue, my body betrayed me, and moved into him.
His hips ground into mine, and I matched his pace. Our bodies synced and found a rhythm allowing us to move as if we were one, knowing exactly what the other would do before our minds knew.
I ran my hands up his chest as his hands travelled across the cutouts of my dress, and to the small of my back. I let my head fall backward, allowing him to hold me up as my body got lost in the music. He pushed me up and into him, holding me tight. His lips grazed my neck, and heat shot to my core.
My arms linked around him, and I pulled him even tighter. A soft moan fell from my lips when I felt his erection press into my center. He wanted me. He could deny it all he wanted, but his body told me otherwise.
I pulled back and looked at him. I could see the desire raging in his eyes, but I could also see the battle he was fighting. He was trying to resist me and there was no way I would let that happen. Not this time. I would not let him walk away from me again. I leaned up, pressing my lips to his.
His grip on my back stiffened.
“Kiss me back,” I muttered against his mouth. “Don’t make me beg.”
He tilted his head, his lips about to devour me, when his head dropped. “I’m sorry.” His hold on me became nothing but a memory as he jumped away from me.
Tears built in my eyes. There were only so many times a girl could get rejected before she completely fell apart.
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I was afraid if I opened my mouth, all that would come out was a bunch of incoherent words muffled by sobs.
I stepped back, shaking my head. Beckham reached out to me, and I wrenched my arm away from him. No. He didn’t get to comfort me after he rejected me, again. I went to the bar and ordered another shot.
“Kennedy, talk to me,” he said, but I was done talking. I had nothing to say.
I took the shot, and went back to the dance floor, finding the first single guy, and grinding up on him. The guy accepted my intrusion and began to grind with me.
I glanced over my shoulder and watched the anger creep up Beckham’s neck. Good. I took the guy’s hands and placed them on my hips, as I rocked my ass back and forth into him. His hands stayed taut on my hips, but as the music beat on, and our movements became more languid, he let them travel down my sides.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Beckham’s voice was like having ice dumped on me.
“Go away, Beckham.”
“Yeah, you heard the girl. Go away,” my dance buddy said, and pulled me closer to him.
Beckham’s hands clenched at his side, and before anyone could say another word, Beckham snatched my wrist, and yanked me toward the door.
The fresh air hit me, giving my anger a jolt. I ripped my arm from his grasp. “What the fuck is your problem?” I screamed at him, as we walked around the side of the building.
“What is my problem? You’re the one getting drunk and dancing with random guys who are only trying to fuck you.”
“Didn’t I tell you that’s what I was looking for?”
“Knock it off. You’re going home.”
I pushed my shoulders back and narrowed my eyes. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. Let’s go.”
He went to grab my arm again, and I yanked it out of his reach. “You are not my brother, so stop acting like it.”
“No, and thank God for that. If he knew about the way you’re acting.”
“He doesn’t because he’s not here! And you’re not supposed to be either. I told you it was girl’s night. You’re the one who decided to tag along.”
“Good thing I did!”
“Why? Because I might’ve hooked up with someone. Are you jealous? Because you’ve had plenty of opportunities to fuck me and you always turn me down, so as far as I’m concerned you have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
“I care about you!”
He cared about me. That was a joke. He cared about me so much that he kept kissing me, and leaving me high and dry every time we came close to doing what both our bodies craved, and I was sick of it.
It might’ve been the alcohol talking, but I couldn’t get the question off my mind. “If you cared about me so much, why didn’t you make love to me that night in my bedroom?”
His eyebrows furrowed. “That’s where you want to go with this?”
“I just want to know why. You kissed me back, and then you acted like it was the biggest mistake you ever made. Just like the other day. Just like tonight.” I stepped closer to him, and reached up, resting my hand on his cheek. “I know you feel it, too.”
“It doesn’t matter what I feel.” He tried to walk away, but I grabbed his arm and held him in place. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, as I stepped closer to him. I pressed my hand back to his cheek, and he wrapped his fingers around mine. The gentle touch warmed my heart and shot heat to my core.
His gorgeous hazel eyes darkened with desire, but a battle still raged beneath.
“Don’t fight it,” I whispered, brushing my lips against his.
He grabbed my waist, and just when I thought he would pull me tight against him, he yanked away from me. “I can’t.”
“Bullshit!” I yelled. “You and I both know that is a load of crap. Why don’t you want me?” I sounded desperate and pathetic, but I didn’t care. This was years of wondering, questioning every touch and analyzing every sweet word he ever said to me.
Beckham ran his hands over his head, tugging on his bun. Tension pulled tight across his arms, and his veins pulsated under his skin. “You’re Nixon’s little sister.”
“For once in your fucking life, be honest with me because we both know that’s a goddamn lie.”
His jaw clenched, and his Adam’s apple bobbed.
I moved back over to him and pleaded one last time. “Just tell me the truth. Why aren’t I good enough for you?”
He jolted away from me, pressing his hands flat against the wall. His head hung between his arms, and after a moment, he slammed both hands into the brick. “Dammit!” He shoved off the building, turning to face me. The rigid set of his shoulders eased and he exhaled slowly. He looked at me, eyes filled with more emotion than I could handle. He threw his hands out in front of him. “You’re too good for me. That’s the problem.”
I froze, completely shocked by his words.
He rested his hand on his chest and walked toward me. “I can’t give you what you want. I don’t make love. I don’t know how. I fuck. And you deserved better than that and you still do.”
His honesty knocked me back a few steps, but I quickly recovered my footing and took a couple steps towards him in an effort to get closer. Once I was standing back in his space, I ran my finger down Beckham’s arm, and looked up into his striking eyes. I leaned in until my lips were barely a whisper from his. “What if I wanted you to fuck me?”
He swallowed and parted his lips, but then placed his hands on his head again, and shook his disapproval. “No. I’m not doing this.” He moved away until his back was up against the brick of the building.
I reached out, balling his shirt in my hand, and running my fingers up his chest. “I want you to. You don’t have to make love to me. I’ll take you, however I can get you. Just stop thinking. You know you want me.” I touched my fingertips to his face, trailing them down his cheek. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re trying so hard not to grab my ass right now. Trying not to tighten your hands on my waist and pull me against your cock.”
His eyes locked with mine, and they were frantic and full of lust. “Nixon would kill me,” he said, his voice a horse whisper.
I bit my lip and ran my fingers up the back of his neck into his hair. “Nixon never has to know.”
He closed his eyes, then blinked up at me, want pooling in his irises. “No,” he uttered, but his tenacity was waning.
“Forget about Nixon. About everything.” I pushed my hips into his, and moved my head till my lips grazed his ears. “Fuck me.”
His entire body stiffened. The tick in his jaw became more apparent, and I knew I was breaking him down. He reached out, tucking my hair behind my ear, his finger lingering on the curve of my jaw. Sweet sparks ignited along my skin, desperation consumed me, and all I could focus on was his touch.
“Please,” I begged then slid my teeth over my bottom lip. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”
He ran his thumb across my mouth, and I caught the tip with my tongue, swirling a sensual circle. The battle that had been playing out in his eyes had surrendered to desire. He grabbed my face, and pulled me hot against his lips.
The sparks erupted into a fiery inferno of heated passion. My body relaxed into his, soaking up every moment of bliss he gave me. A growl rumbled up his throat as he prodded my crease, begging me to let him in. He didn’t have to beg. I was more than willing to accept. I parted, meeting his tongue in a desperate slick dance.
Warmth crept up my neck, and Beckham flipped us around, backing me against the wall. His hands grabbed my ass, taking a hefty handful. He lifted me off the ground, pressing my back into the brick, as he trailed a scorching line down my neck with his lips.
His strong fingers dug into the soft flesh of my ass. “You make me lose my fucking mind,” he groaned, before nibbling on the sensitive skin of my neck.
His hand ran up my thighs and a burning desire imparted its way to every inch of my body. I
tightened my legs around him, and pulled him closer, needing to feel his hard cock against my center.
He reached down and ripped my panties away from my slick folds. He traced his finger up and down my clit, circling the swollen nub before thrusting into my wetness. Hot pleasure exploded in my core, and a scream tore from my lips. I muffled the sound against his neck.
His scent engulfed me, and I needed to taste him. I dragged my tongue along his neck and up his ear. His thumb continued to circle my clit, and he plunged another finger into my pussy, white light exploded behind my eyes as I teetered close to the edge.
I needed him inside me, to feel his thickness fill me completely. I reached down, tearing open his pants, and ripping off his belt. He was commando, and his thick heavy cock, glistening with pre-cum, sprung out. I reached down and took him in my hand
His fingers slid in and out of me in a slow torturous rhythm. He stared at my lips before smashing his mouth to mine. My back ground against the wall as Beckham pulled his fingers out and thrust his hard cock into my dripping wet pussy.
I pulled on his hair as pleasure erupted inside me.
“Oh fuck. You’re so tight,” Beckham growled against my ear as he drove deep inside me. Deeper and deeper until I couldn’t think, too consumed with the pleasure he gave me.
It was hot and animalistic, and knowing we could get caught at any minute only fueled the raging fire within me.
Beckham pulled the top of my dress down, revealing my breast. He bent his head, taking my beaded nipple in his mouth. He sucked and nibbled the taut peak, and my head fell back at the delicious onslaught.
My fingers dug into his shoulder as he pumped into me. A glimmer of sweat coated our bodies, and shimmered in the light of the full moon above.
Beckham dragged his lips across my neck, and back to my mouth. He swiped his tongue at my crease, and I instantly parted, desperate to taste him again.