by Nana Malone
Beckett's fingers glided over the small of her back in the barest hint of a caress. The electricity shot through her body like she'd been stuck by lightning. Or at the very least stuck her finger in a socket. She could do this. She could seduce him. He was what she wanted after all. For once, just go after it and take it, Ricca. Looking at him over her shoulder, she beamed a smile. Making sure to pierce him with a direct stare. “You going to do something with that hand, or are you going to just dream about it for the rest of your life?”
His eyes widened, his hand giving another convulsive spasm, but he let her go. Coward. She marshaled in a bracing breath and turned to face him. This was Beckett, her best friend. The one she came to with all her problems. The one she could trust and rely on.
He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "What are you doing, Ricca?"
She let the silk gossamer fall to the floor. A low hiss issued from his teeth. "Are you going to help me with this top? I had a bitch of a time getting these two little hooks done."
He backed up again. With a little frown, she advanced forward. "Fine. Suit yourself. I'll just have to do it myself.”
She saw the little quiver in his hands and almost smiled to herself. Given the need she saw in his eyes, she hadn't been the only one suffering.
She worked at the hooks freeing first one, then with some effort, the other. The damn thing flew open like she’d just inhaled a deep breath after surfacing from a minute underwater. The fabric barely covered her nipples, but it did a stand-up job at trying.
The low curse she heard from Beckett emboldened her. "Beckett, I know what I want. Are you going to give it to me? Or are you going to run?"
His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He shut it. Opened it again in another attempt. Still no sound. Third time's the charm.
This time as he spoke, his voice was distorted. Low. Guttural. "No going back, Ricca."
She advanced the final step, closing the gap between them. "Who's going back?”
Ricca stepped forward and was lost. The low moan that came from Beckett's throat sounded like a purr. And it rolled over her like a caress. "Beckett?" she asked, keeping her voice low, though the throaty quality was something she hadn’t counted on. "Do you want to help me?"
His eyes were still hooded. She could see his hands twitch from the periphery. He wanted her. Why didn't he just do something about it? Or maybe she'd made the whole thing up in her head. Maybe—
He moved so fast her breath chased out of her lungs in a rush, leaving her gasping. When he deposited her on the large bed that was surrounded by pillows, he loomed over her and pierced her with the entire weight of his gaze. "Now's your chance to go back. To change your mind."
When she didn't speak, he muttered what sounded like prayers of thanks.
Instead of starting with her breasts as she'd anticipated, his hands went to her hair. He was so tender in his ministrations, stroking, his thumbs rubbing slow circles at her temples. "Beautiful, Ricca,” he murmured.
The kiss he gave her was soft at first. Coaxing even. With one arm bracing the majority of his weight and the other scooping under her to adjust her position, he settled her at a better angle. Hand still cupping her ass, he deepened their kisses. Taking long drugging pulls at her lips, eliciting a moan out of her. She arched her body under his and could feel the length of his erection nudging at her hip. Begging for attention.
When Beckett trailed his lips along her jaw line to her neck, his teeth grazed her skin, and she shivered. Her hands trailed up his back, and she could feel his muscles bunch and flex under her touch. She’d seen his muscles so many times as he’d run around shirtless. Even slathered sun block on him more times than she could count. But it was all different now. She was different.
Beckett took his time with his explorations, each kiss laying out a path of seduction and electricity hot enough to singe her nerve endings. He moved to her breasts, and Ricca sucked in a breath of air and held it. As he kissed just along the edges of the little bolero, his breath cooled her too-hot skin in some places and added to the overheating in others.
When he nudged aside one side of the bolero to kiss the underside of her breast, the breath she’d been holding came out in a rush. She could feel his chuckle against her skin. But he wasn’t getting down to business. Beckett was nothing, if not thorough. He continued the exploration with his tongue until he found her belly button. “I’ve been wondering what you tasted like here ever since you wore that jersey to my house.”
He placed a soft kiss in the little divot of flesh. “I’ve had dreams about this belly button.” Another kiss, this one lingering. She could feel his cock strain and throb as her body arched into the caress of his lips.
“So many dreams.” Bracketing her hips with his wide, strong hands, he held her in place as he dipped a tongue into her belly button. Her hips jerked up, and his fingers dug into her hips. God, was this what she’d been missing out on all this time? Holding herself back from? Denying herself? She could kick herself.
But Beckett wasn’t finished. His thumbs stroked that expanse of flesh between her belly button and her pubic bone. Even as he trailed kisses to follow his thumbs, he murmured words of adoration and lust. Beckett Mills wanted her. And he was a master of seduction.
When he moved his kisses lower, she wiggled her hips in anticipation.
“Don’t worry, love. I’ll get there eventually. I do promise to make you feel good.”
She didn’t realize she’d whimpered until the soft sound pierced the air. His thumbs snuck under the tiny patch of sapphire blue satin. “Is it okay if I get rid of this pair?”
She nodded, and he wasted no time snatching the thong by the patch and tearing. “I’ll buy you a new pair. That’s just something I’ve been thinking about doing since that night in my apartment.”
Her skin heated. His thumbs nudged her lips, and he hissed again. “God damn, baby, you’re so wet for me. Are you thinking about what we did that night?” He stroked her again, this time circling a thumb over her clit.
She whispered, “Yes.”
Stroke. Circle. “Are you thinking about that first night?”
An involuntary shiver wiggled up her spine. “Yes.”
Stroke. Circle. “Good. I want you thinking about that.” While one thumb kept up the slow circular motions on her clit, he shifted his other hand to slide one impossibly long finger into her core. “Hm, so tight. So perfect.”
Ricca moaned in pleasure as she buried her head further into the pillow. Shit. He really knew how to touch a woman.
****
She tasted sweet. The first stoke of his tongue had Beckett moaning. So fucking perfect. Ricca was so fucking perfect. And she was his. For the first time since he'd heard what she said, he started to hope that they could maybe be more than what they'd always been. Maybe just being him would be enough. Not that he really cared anymore. He wanted her as his, and he wouldn’t let her go now. He couldn’t. At least not without destroying a part of himself.
He felt her hands slip into his hair and relished the impatient tug. God, she was so sexy. He had all the time in the world. And he intended to use it. Especially now that he’d had a taste of her. The possession roared through him. His. Only his.
He glided his tongue over the center of her soft core again, pausing to run his tongue in a slow languid circle over the tight bud of her clitoris. He heard her breath hitch, and he smiled. "You like that?"
Her answer was a moan, and as she pulled his head closer to her moist center, he knew he was on the right track. "Tell me how you like it, Ricca. Harder?" He demonstrated, and she groaned. "Softer?" he showed her what he meant, and he could feel her legs quiver around him.
"Harder." She gasped, and he obliged, then she let out a soft curse.
He could feel her impending orgasm before she called out his name. Felt the telltale quiver of her thighs, tasted her sweet nectar on his lips. Her hands tightened in his hair. The sharp sting of a pain made him shiver
with need. His cock throbbed painfully, but he mentally wrestled it for control. He would not rush this. He would not be in a hurry here. Ricca was different. Special.
As he kissed the insides of her thighs, and he felt her body go limp, he murmured loving words to her. Nonsensical words. He knew she probably couldn't hear him, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to say them out loud. She might have thought he was done, but he wasn't. He continued to explore every hidden valley of her folds and ignored her urgings for him to hurry. It wasn’t until she had her second orgasm that he lost the battle of wills with his throbbing cock and balls. He needed to get inside her. Needed to feel her silken walls surrounding him and milking him.
"Beckett, please."
Lifting his head, he watched in satisfaction as Ricca’s hands knotted in the sheets, and she threw her head back. Ecstasy etched onto her face like the most gorgeous artwork. He didn't give her time to come down from her orgasm—tossing his T-shirt over his head, he leveled himself over her diminutive form. "Ricca, look at me."
Lazy eyes blinked up at him. The moment her eyes focused, she smiled the sweetest smile, full of satisfaction and love. He loved her. He knew it. And he would never be the same after tonight. He shifted her under him, and cupping her ass, he couldn't help but give her a squeeze. God, she was so sexy.
Her eyes remained on his as he entered her, widening as he stretched her. The moment her eyes clouded, he stopped and gritted his teeth against his need, for once more concerned about someone else. "Are you okay?" He waited for her response.
Her eyes narrowed up at him then she took matters into her own hands. She wrapped both hands around each of his ass cheeks and drew him into her in one thrust.
"Jesus." The curse escaped his lips before he knew what was happening. She wiggled around underneath him, encasing him in her slick heat from base to tip. Her eyes fluttered closed in an expression of bliss.
That did it. Unable to control his hips, he withdrew the tiniest bit and reseated himself inside her with a groan. Lowering his head to hers, he hissed in a breath. "Absolutely perfect."
As he thrust, he could feel her nails scoring into his back. Demanding him to move faster, harder. When she called his name, Beckett was sure he was having the best fantasy of his life.
Beckett felt the tingle at the base of his spine, and he gritted out, "Whoa. Stop."
Ricca immediately went still. Forcing himself to stop the thrusting was another matter. He gave the command, but his hips didn't obey. Eventually, he pulled her tight to him and rolled them over, not breaking the contact. Gripping her hips as he pumped, he begged her, "Ride me."
As she did, those magnificent breasts of hers swayed, and he thought there wasn't any other place in his life he’d ever want to be.
"Oh. My. God," Ricca whispered.
He held on as her orgasm rolled through her and milked him. Grip release. Grip. Release. God. As the tingle in his spine rolled through his gut, he followed her shout with a guttural one of his own. “God, Ricca." The strength of his orgasm forced him up off the bed. He held on tight, his hands grasping her sweat-slickened back as he soared into firelight.
She collapsed on top of him. As his eyelids fought the battle to stay open, he held her tight to him. His Ricca.
****
Ricca stretched, enjoying the luxurious feel of the satin sheets. God, she could wake up like this every day. The scent of jasmine incense in the air, the—she frowned. She was naked. And there was a hand on her right breast.
She cracked an eye open and noted the ceiling of the inner suite. The sunken living room. Those weren't satin sheets at her back. More like satin pillows. Beckett. Holy shit. Now what, Ricca? Time to run, or time to face the music?
She opted for truth and consequence time. After all what's the worst that could happen? Besides him telling her it was a mistake or something.
"Are you going to pretend you're asleep for much longer, or can we have an encore of last night?"
Beckett's gravelly voice came from her left, and she turned to face him. He withdrew his hand from her breast and folded both on his belly. "So it's that time again is it?"
She frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Where you tell me this was all a mistake, and I'm not the right kind of guy for you now.”
"When have I ever said you're not the right kind of guy for me?"
He tried to sit up, and she stopped him by placing a hand on his chest. If they were going to have a conversation on regrets, then she wasn't giving him the upper hand. She pulled one of the sheets to her breast and did her best to cover up sarong style.
His navy blue eyes bored into hers. ”I heard you sent a crew over to Swim on J."
Her gut went cold. “That was supposed to be a secret. How did you find out?"
“Braedon called. Adele Westhorpe also sent an architect.”
Oh shit. When she’d approached Adele about doing a fundraiser for Swim on J, Adele had been over the moon excited to help. But of course, being Adele Westhorpe, she’d gone overboard. Ricca studied Beckett’s face. Was he angry with her? “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business. But I wanted to help. Tom Reynolds is the client you saw me with the other day. He was so happy with the proposal fantasy I did that he wanted to do something to thank me. He’s a general contractor, and I told him about the fire. He said he’d help get it cleaned up gratis. I’m sorry. I was only trying to help.”
“Ricca, stop.” His large hands covered hers. “I’m not angry. I just don’t know why you would do that. I’ve acted like a total moron.”
I love you. She nearly blurted it out, but instead she said, “I believe in you and what you’re trying to do. I have always believed in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself. When are you going to get that?”
He rubbed a hand over his stubble. "You scare the shit out of me. My whole life the old man kept telling me I wasn’t good enough. I’ve been trying to prove him wrong since I can remember, and I’ve been fucking it up. But you refuse to give up on me.”
Because I love you, you idiot. But she couldn’t say that. So she said. “I don’t give up easily.” She clanked around the living area and blushed at the complete disarray. They’d made a mess last night. “Beckett, what are we doing here?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. But I know better than to push you away. I need you too much and I’m tired of fighting it.”
But he didn’t love her. That was okay. For as long as she could have him she would. She could keep it casual. It didn’t matter to her what would happen to her heart later. For the time being Beckett Mills was hers and she’d take him.
"Only you can be in charge of what you want and how you get there. Not me, and certainly not your moron of a father. Just you. What do you want to do from here?"
A wicked gleam spread over his face, and she felt the instant flash of heat. God, he was really hot. Giggling, she scooted out of the way. "What time is it? We can't just laze around; we have to get ready for the party."
“Everything we can do has been taken care of. You have the whole morning with me." He looked up to meet her gaze. The vulnerability in his eyes broke her heart. "That is, if you want to spend the night with me."
She flushed. Then nodded. "But whatever would we do?"
She giggled as his hands traveled up her thighs and coaxed them open. "I guess you have a few ideas."
He growled, the low sound sending shivers up her spine. "You bet I have a couple of ideas.”
She giggled again. Was this what it felt like to be with someone who got her? Someone who could make her laugh and want to throw things? Who could make her toes curl and make her want to dance. Cause she could get used to this.
Beckett grabbed her and halted right before their lips met. "You’re incredible to behold, Ricca."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Heaven. Ricca was actually in heaven. Beckett was hers. No fantasy, though she had a few she'd like to try out, could compare to the real thin
g. It was real. God, it was awesome. No insecurity.
He couldn't seem to get enough. They'd nearly been caught twice on the flight back. And that would not have been good. Not just unprofessional, but culturally unacceptable. But Beckett…Well, Beckett was Beckett, and she had a really hard time denying him anything, even when she knew she should.
"Ricca, you plan on joining us for this meeting? Ricca?"
Heat suffused her cheeks. Shit. Had she been caught day dreaming? "Um." Damn it. What was she supposed to be doing again? Oh, debrief. Right. Beckett had just gone over the report for the action adventure stuff. It was her turn to talk about love. Something she was so uniquely able to do. She could do this. She'd given a million of these debriefings. Done a million in front of Beckett.
But this time as his ocean blue eyes watched her, she knew the way they watched her in bed as he focused on making her scream in pleasure. She knew how they roamed over her body when she walked around the room naked. Damn it. Ricca, pay attention.
She cleared her throat. "Sorry. Still jet-lagged."
She could have sworn she heard Beckett cough, but she ignored him. "The love portion of the event went as expected. Client ratings for the harem were spectacular. I believe it's an experience that should become part of our portfolio."
She could actually feel Beckett peeling off layers of her clothing one at a time. As she continued with the debriefing, she had to keep her eyes straight on Serena and Zach, to keep her voice cool. It was the longest meeting of her life.
Afterward, Beckett didn't meet her gaze. But that was no surprise. Immediately, half the men in the office circled around him. All wanting to know what it was like to ride in a Bugatti Veyron. Whatever. She needed to get her head on straight. No mistakes. For all intents and purposes, just because they were sleeping together didn’t mean they weren’t still in competition. If she forgot that, she'd be in trouble and reporting to Beckett. Nothing, not even Beckett would stand in her way of obtaining the promotion. Sleeping with him had nothing to do with the job.