by Nana Malone
Ricca shook her head in an effort to think. "You’re the one who left to go to the pool at the crack of dawn. I could have helped you with your little problem."
"Are you up to helping me now?"
She swiveled her hips in response. "Beckett, we’re in the middle of a party."
Through gritted teeth, he touched his forehead to hers. "Ricca. I need you so bad."
Her skin was hot, and the light breeze from the ocean did nothing to help cool her off. Her breasts swelled as she drew in a shuddering breath. Her whole body coiled tight in anticipation of Beckett’s large hands touching her all over. But they couldn’t do this here—in public. This wasn’t her. But God, she wanted him. Just feeling the heat of his body so close to hers had her body humming with anticipation.
Her inner diva shouted. Yes, Girl! Get your man. And make it good. But her rational brain shouted all the reasons she couldn’t. Yet when Beckett circled her nipple once more with the pad of his thumb, she forgot all about her rational mind. Either that or her inner diva beat it into submission. She slid her arms over his broad shoulders and dug her fingers into the muscled flesh.
He bunched up the fabric of her dress so it was just above her knees. He met her gaze. "If I give you want you want, you have to promise to be quiet. I can’t have you alarming the neighbors, like you probably did the other night."
Ricca trembled as she thought of the last time they’d been together. “I seem to recall you were the one screaming."
He raised an eyebrow. "I'll concede that there were a lot of raised voices on both sides." His hands snuck up her thighs several inches. He kissed her again, this time taking his time and pulling a response from her. His hands continued on their path until he reached what should have been her panty line. “Sweet fuck, you're not wearing any underwear."
“I know. I was hoping to surprise you when we got back to my place. I guess I was making the assumption that you were coming over."
Both thumbs slid over her slick outer folds, and he closed his eyes and breathed her name. "Ricca. So soft. And already wet."
"I've been waiting for you." She canted her hips again, and he growled deep in his throat.
"Ricca. I—"
"What’s the matter, Beckett?"
"What am I supposed to do with you?"
"I think you know the answer to that question."
He slid a finger inside her center, and they both moaned. “Beckett, please. Someone's going to see us."
He nipped her neck, then soothed the spot with a light flick of his tongue. "Right now, I don't really care."
He slid another finger inside her, and she let her head hang back as she moaned. He knew exactly how to touch her to get her to melt. And she was addicted to him. His smell, the way he moved. What he could do to her body.
As his fingers retreated, she gasped. "Wait, more." She could almost hear the smug, satisfied, smile in his voice.
But he complied. “Okay, baby. A little more. But I have other plans for you. So don’t you dare distract me.” His thumb circled her clit, and her breath hitched.
"Jesus."
He brought her to the brink with his deft fingers. Sliding into her, stimulating her just so, then pulling back as she teetered on the edge. Beckett dragged down one shoulder of her dress, and both of them hissed when her breast was exposed to the cool air. "Ricca, you’re not wearing a bra either."
"I know that." She grinned. "I already told you I had plans for you after this party. You’re jumping the gun a little. You always were a bit impatient. "
He used his thumb to circle her right nipple, forming it into a tight little bud. Ricca felt every movement and every caress in her core, and she wanted to scream with frustration when he wouldn’t pick up the pace. "Beckett."
Removing his expert thumb, he braced her upper body with his hands and tipped her back, replacing his thumb with his mouth. He suckled and tugged and nipped once, which was enough to send her so close to the edge that he stopped teasing her. "Shh. It's okay. I know you’re frustrated. But I don’t want you to come yet. Wait for me, sweetheart."
"Beckett, I don’t want to wait."
"Now look who's impatient."
He held her still as he removed his fingers. Briefly kissing a path down her sternum, he lifted the fabric of her dress out of the way.
Oh, no, he wasn't. Not here, not…Oh, God.
The moment his lips touched her sex, Ricca trembled and knew he wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted from her. Beckett licked at her folds, tracing a path of delight that drove her mad.
He paid very little attention to her clit, only pausing long enough to trace a circle around her most sensitive spot, then move back to his slow licking. Ricca had no other choice but to hold on for the rise.
And she did. She threaded her fingers through his hair and held on tight.
"Shit, Ricca, You are so hot."
All it took was one slower lick, and Ricca knew what was next. She started to quake in his hands. Hot electric current started in her spine and poured through her body. The orgasm crashed through her with no mercy.
Beckett shifted up her body, and Ricca bit her lip. She knew what was coming—what she wanted. The whole reason she'd been staring at that door for the past forty five minutes.
When Beckett slipped inside her, she groaned. The full length of him was almost too much to take. The skin to skin contact somehow hotter than when they used condoms. He held her still and panted, his harsh breath tickling her ear as he whispered, “God. I could stay inside you forever. I need you to do me a favor and be quiet, okay? I think I might die if we get interrupted. And you know how you like to shout."
She smoothed her hands down the back of his tuxedo and smacked him on the ass. He rewarded her with a grunt and drove home again.
"Why didn’t you tell me you were into the kinky stuff? I could have been spanking you a week ago.”
She just groaned. "Beckett, hurry."
He chuckled. “What was it that I said about you keeping quiet?" Both hands gripped her hips and held her tight as he slid his erection home.
Inside, her friends danced and laughed. Outside, Beckett tickled her g-spot, told her in shushed whispers how hot she was. Whispered to her about how he wanted to bend her over the balcony and slip into her from behind. Told her how she was driving him crazy.
She had officially lost her damn mind. But God it felt so good. She became so lost in the sensations of Beckett driving into her and tugging on her nipple that she didn't hear the clomp-clomp of heels. For an instant, when she did hear them, they sounded like they were coming through a tunnel. Slowly, she became more aware of the ambient noise. The voices. Someone calling out to her.
"Ree, are you out here? Damn it, where’ve you gone?"
Beckett clamped a hand over her mouth and kept sliding into her. He whispered in Ricca’s ear, "Do you want me to stop fucking you? If she comes over, we'll have to stop. It might be hours before we can resume.” He jerked his hips, and all she could do was let out a ragged moan.
Micha stopped about 15 feet from them. "Ricca honey, are you crying?"
Ricca’s eyes popped open. The last thing she needed was her friend to come over here. "Micha, I'm fine, I just need a minute."
Beckett pounded his hips again, and she hissed. Lowering his mouth over her nipple, he tugged gently with his teeth, and she dragged in another sob.
Micha took another step forward. "Honey, you don't have to hide out there. Come in, we'll send everyone home and bust out the rocky road. It'll be okay."
"Micha, do not come any closer. I won’t be able take it. Please, I just need a—"
"I…" Micha sounded like she didn’t know what to do. “I don’t want to leave you alone."
"Trust me, I’m embarrassed enough as it is, please just give me ten, okay? Then I'll come in, and we don’t have to ruin Jaya's party."
"I—Okay. If you’re sure.”
Beckett chose that time to clamp a hand
on the back of her neck and angle her head back to kiss her.
“"Y-y-yes. I’m sure."
"Okay. But if you don’t come inside in ten, I'm coming back to get you."
Ricca held her breath as Micha walked away, and Beckett took full advantage.
"You'll need to breathe, baby, because you’re about to come."
He was right. By now he knew her body so well. The tingles in the base of her spine had triggered a chain reaction in her body. Her toes had started to curl, and her breasts ached, and her core felt like it was riding a wave of heat and fire. "Beckett." She came apart in his arms on a breath. And he drove in once more before clamping his teeth over her shoulder and cursing.
He held her tight as his body jerked, then sagged against her, exhausted. “Damn it, Ricca, you're going to kill me."
They stayed like that for several minutes—him still inside her, holding her tight against his body. She with her legs still wrapped around his waist. Eventually her breathing slowed, and so did his.
"Beckett, I have to go back inside, or Micha will come looking for me. I'd rather not have this be the way everyone finds out about what we’ve been up to."
She felt him twitch, and she worried for a moment if their magic spell had broken somehow. But he kissed her forehead and pulled his handkerchief from the breast pocket of his tuxedo. Gradually, he separated from her, and softly, and ever so gently, he cleaned her up. He met her gaze. "You better hurry up and get in there." His voice was grave.
Ricca frowned. What had just gone wrong? Had she said something? "Beckett? Is everything okay? Did I—” Her voice squeaked a little, and she recognized the impending tears. The sting of rejection was hot and instant as it seared her skin.
He muttered a curse and turned to face her. He tugged her close. "Yes, everything’s fine. Fantastic actually. But I don’t want you to have to explain anything.” He tucked a hand into her hair and took out the pins of her sloppy side knot. Then he helped her smooth her hair. "The sex hair was hot, but I don’t want Micha coming after me with an arsenal of weapons."
Ricca met his gaze, hearing the tinges of untruth in his voice. She knew him well. Something was wrong, but he wouldn't tell her now. "I think I’m probably the bad influence."
He smirked. "I know. You'll have me behaving like a good boy in no time. What would my friends say?" He gave her ass a playful tap. "Go on, get in there.”
She walked toward the party, only turning to look back at him when she reached the door. He leaned against the railing his head hanging low. She had a feeling that something in their dynamic had just changed.
****
Beckett fought the compulsion, but no matter how he deviated from the route, he still ended up on Robinson Ave, directly in front of Ricca’s building.
She was waiting for him on her balcony. She still wore her dress, but the killer stilettos were off, and her hair was down and tousled. He wanted her even more now than he did at the party.
“I was worried I wouldn’t see you tonight. I got the feeling I said something wrong on that balcony.”
Beckett shook his head. “Ricca, I—”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re acting weird, Beckett. We’re supposed to talk to each other. I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”
He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was hold her. He'd give her the big explanation later. Much later. Not tonight. "Does it matter?"
She put her hands on her hips. "It matters to me if I said something to piss you off. I never would have suggested we do this if I'd thought there was a chance that we might lose our friendship. So tell me what I said."
"Nothing. It's just been a long night. Okay? I've never done something like that with anyone. You made me lose control a little. I'm not sure I like how that feels."
She chewed her bottom lip, and he wished she wouldn't. It made him want to kiss her, and if he did that now, they'd end up with another public display like earlier. He told her the half-truth and hoped she believed it. He needed time to think through everything. Braedon was right—he was in love. It didn’t change anything. All it meant was that it would hurt more when she realized he was no good. He took another step up. "So what do you say, can we go to bed now?"
She searched his gaze, and he saw her acquiescence. She was going to drop it. Though knowing Ricca, she would only drop the matter for now, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. If he had a reprieve, he'd take it. Over the balcony, he kissed her soft lips, and she wound her arms around his neck. "Yeah, let's go—"
The score of the Empire Strikes Back filled the silence around them, and he frowned. Braedon. What the hell did Braedon need now? He’d seen him less than four hours ago.
Ricca kissed him back. "Ignore the call,” she mumbled against his lips.
He was inclined to follow her directions, except the phone kept ringing long after it should have gone to voicemail.
"I'm sorry. Hold that thought." He kissed her nose. Yanking the phone out of his pocket, he clicked answer. "This had better be good, Braedon. I'm busy."
Braedon’s voice was strained. "Sorry for the coitus interruptus, but Swim on J is burning. We have a fire."
Fuck. Beckett’s knees went weak, and he was certain the ground moved beneath him.
Ricca’s voice filtered through his consciousness from a long distance away. "Beckett? What's wrong? You look pale."
Braedon’s voice was clear though. Swim on J was burning. "I'm on my way."
He hung up with his brother, then tried to drag in some air. The chilly, dry January air was not conducive to him settling his lungs.
"Beckett, you’re scaring me."
He focused on Ricca. "My building. It's burning down."
Her eyes went wide. "Your apartment building?"
“No. The swim center. Someone called it in. It’s burning.”
Ricca placed both hands on either side of his face. "Beckett, I'm coming with you. Now, stay here one second. I'm going to grab my car keys." She was back in a flash, or so it seemed, given he hadn't moved since she vanished inside her apartment. It helped that her unit was the first one to the right.
"C'mon, let's go." She tugged gently on his arm, and it took him several moments to respond on his wooden legs. Under the best of circumstances, Ricca drove like a grandma, but this time, she drove like she was Mario Andretti’s long lost daughter. She parked as close as the caution tape and gawking onlookers would allow. Fire trucks, police cars, an ambulance, and passersby littered the streets.
The glow from his building one block over was enough to illuminate the night sky. It wasn’t a dream. The damn building was burning. All his plans—gone in a puff of smoke. Just like that. The rage that boiled over in his chest was palpable. And the urge to hit something was even stronger.
His father had to be behind this. Just out of spite, he'd crushed Beckett's dream. His mother’s dream. Just for the sake of control.
Once they reached the building, he tried to duck under the caution tape. He didn't realize how close he was, until he felt Ricca's restraining hand on his arm. "Beckett, no. There's nothing you can do about it."
“Ricca, I have to do something."
“What are you going to do, run into a burning building? Count your lucky stars there was no one in there to get hurt. That means it’s just the loss of a building."
Oh shit. Braedon. He scanned the crowd for his brother and relaxed by degrees when he saw him talking to one of the policemen. "It's more than that. I've been saving for years to renovate this place, and the old man, he just—"
She pinned him with a stare. "You don’t know anything yet. Do you think your father could be so cruel and diabolical?"
"In a word, yeah. He'd stop at nothing to get his way. And this is just the latest step he's taking."
"Beckett, I don’t think he would do this. Not when people in the neighboring buildings could have been hurt. He might be a son of a bitch, but he's not stupid. Burning the building would mean jail time. Not to men
tion you and Braedon could have been inside."
Beckett didn’t need to hear her rationality right now. He wanted someone to tell him that the old man was to blame, so he could have someone to direct his anger toward. "You don’t understand."
"Don’t I? You want something so bad it kills you inside, and you don’t know how you’re going to make it happen. But come hell or high water, you push to make it happen. And the one thing you don’t need to happen comes in and topples your whole dream? I'm not sure why you think I can’t relate, but yeah, I’ve been there."
"Then what the fuck do I do?"
She tipped her chin up. "You determine if the thing you want is worth it. And if it is, you work even harder. Go to plan B. But getting yourself killed by running into the burning building won’t fix anything."
She had a point, but he wasn’t really in the mood to listen. All his hard work—gone.
"Beckett, we'll rebuild it. We'll make it what your mother wanted. We'll raise the funds. Do everything we can and have to. This isn't the end. All you have to do is accept the help. I'm here.”
She'd said the magic word. We.
Chapter Twenty
"You did what?"
Ricca kept her eyes on her drink as Micha's voice went up two decibels. Luckily their usual hangout at Synthesis Bar was still relatively empty, it being a Wednesday night and happy hour being over. "You don’t have to shout, Micha." Looking at her friends’ surprised faces, Ricca sighed. "I slept with Beckett. No big deal."
Jaya’s brows furrowed. "Wait, when did this happen? Because he hasn't said a word. I had him over to dinner last night in another failed attempt to get him and Alec to make besties. Had to invite Caleb too as a buffer. Though he wasn’t much help. Anyway, Beckett never said a word or gave any indication."
How to phrase this properly without full freakoutage? "Um, well, first time was a few weeks ago after the car accident."
Jaya's eyes went wide, and Micha slumped back against her seat, blinking her eyes and shaking her head as if she didn’t believe what she was hearing. "Look, guys, I know, okay? It’s Beckett. And before you start worrying, this is fun and easy. We’re still friends. We just happen to be sleeping together now.”