AXEL (The Beckett Boys, Book Eight)

by Olivia Chase

  “Not yet.” He gives her a saucy wink. “But get me another drink and I might be down for some fun.”

  I shake my head. “Dude. You’re insane.” Gotta love Chris for always being a fun time out.

  The old lady flusters and stutters on her words, then honest to God clutches her pearls and walks off, the other in tow.

  “You made her swoon,” I say. “That broad’s gonna need to change her panties now.”

  “I have a way with the ladies,” he says unabashedly. “I don’t discriminate. Oldies can be hotties too.”

  The champagne is fizzy and too sweet, and I don’t care. I take a swig of it and put the glass on a table by me. “Let’s hit the buffet.”

  As we walk, I can feel heated glares on me, people who are blatantly scandalized by me and my friend crashing their wedding. But I ignore them, keep my gaze searching for her. The woman with the dark red hair. I don’t give a fuck what these rich twats have to say about me. They don’t know me.

  “Axel,” Chris says, tugging my arm and pointing. “Look at that fucking cake. It’s, like, eight stories high.”

  The cake is massive and covered in creamy white frosting, layers upon layers of ornate decorations that must have taken ages to do. The artist in me takes a moment to look at it and appreciate the effort. Not my thing, as I focus on drawing and tattooing, but hey, we all have our own outlet.

  “Excuse me,” someone behind me says, tapping my shoulder.

  I spin around to see a tall, black-haired man staring at me. His jaw is chiseled and his nose is a perfect slope—how much did he spend in plastic surgery to get this look?

  I smirk at him.

  “Yeah, can I help you, man?” I say politely, as if I have every right in the world to be here.

  “Are you a guest?” His gaze rakes up and down me, his eyes proclaiming that he knows I’m not.

  “Of course I am. Don’t you remember me? We met last year at the Huffenstuffer reunion at the yacht club downtown,” I drawl, and Chris smothers a chortle at the made-up backstory. “The tartar sauce was out in the sun too long, and everyone got sick and puked their caviar over the side of the boat.” I shake my head. “Tragedy, really. So many lives lost that day. So much caviar wasted.”

  His eyes narrow, and another two men step up behind him. “You both need to get out of here. Right now. Or we’ll make you.”

  Chris steps forward and bumps his chest against the guy. Skinny he is, but Chris will seriously fight to the death. He’s a scrapper. “Oh? You’re going to make us? And how is that?”

  “Hey,” a lilting voice says, as a woman draws into our midst.

  Her.

  The mysterious redhead.

  She has her lower lip drawn between her teeth as she glances at the Three Stooges, shaking her head. “We don’t need to create a scene,” she says gently. “Let’s try talking first.” And when her blue-eyed gaze turns to mine for the first time and our eyes meet, I know from the furious thumping of my heart that I’m in deep fucking trouble.

  Kendra

  When I look over at the two wedding crashers, the air whooshes out of my chest, and I almost melt into a pile of goo on the tile floor. The man on the right is gorgeous. Like, dirty, manly, potently gorgeous. I’ve never seen such raw masculinity embodied before—his eyes are a rich hazel, and his dirty blond hair is mussed in that sexy way that makes me want to run my fingers through it. His lips are full, curled in a smirk. And he’s covered in tattoos.

  He’s a bad boy, one hundred percent.

  My lower belly throbs in response to his virility, and I fight the immediate, vivid reaction I have to him, pressing my hands to my stomach in an effort to calm myself. “Um. Hi. I’m Kendra.”

  Bastian snorts from beside me, a quiet sound that doesn’t go unnoticed by the hot guy’s friend, who narrows his eyes and him then gives a wide smile. I never really liked Bastian much, though he’s Georgianna’s new husband’s best friend. So when she asked me to be maid of honor, I couldn’t turn it down, despite the discomfort of having to be by his side most of the night.

  “I’m Axel,” the guy says. “Very pleased to meet you.”

  The way he says it makes my stomach do a backwards somersault and I feel goose bumps erupt over my entire body.

  “Kendra, we’re in the middle of something,” Bastian says in a gruff tone. “Let me handle this.”

  I want to tell Bastian that as far as I’m concerned, he can go right ahead and handle it, and then gleefully watch this tattooed bad boy whip Bastian’s arrogant butt in front of the entire wedding reception.

  However, Axel doesn’t even bother to look at him now. He keeps that hot, hard gaze on me, and I fight the urge to squirm. Something about that intensity is unreal. Have I ever been looked at this way in my entire life? Like I’m about to be devoured bite by bite? “We’ll leave,” he says to me, “if you come have one drink with me at the hotel bar.”

  As insane as it sounds, I’m tempted. This guy is absolutely not my type…which just makes him even more appealing for some crazy reason.

  “She isn’t going anywhere with you,” Bastian says, resting a hand on my lower back. Like he has a right to touch me. I stiffen and inch away.

  “One drink,” Axel reiterates, taking a solid step toward me. “Then you can come back and do the chicken dance and watch all these boring fucks get white-girl wasted.”

  I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me. “You’re blunt, aren’t you.”

  By the knowing look in his eyes, he can tell I’m weakening. I can’t help it. I’ve never been so instantly attracted to someone in my entire life. He’s dangerous, I can tell that much. My daddy would have a fit. Is that part of the appeal? I don’t know.

  “Yes, I am blunt,” he answers. “Especially when I want something.”

  “Don’t do it,” Bastian warns me. “These guys are trouble. You know better than to engage with someone like him, Kendra.”

  I turn to Bastian, steeling my jaw. Who the hell does he think he is? “Excuse me? I think I can make my own decisions just fine. Tell Georgianna I’ll be back in a little bit. I’m going to have a drink.” With that, I step toward Axel.

  He slides his hand to cup my upper arm, and the contact sends bolts of heat throughout me. Once we reach the bar, the other troublemaker leans in close to Axel, says something under his breath, and then heads to the far end of the bar.

  Axel leads me to a stool and helps me get on it. Despite his rough exterior, he’s got a charm about him, an attentiveness I wouldn’t have expected. It’s hard enough walking in these high heels, much less adding a slim-fitting bridesmaid dress in the mix. He assisted me without a second thought. “What’s your poison?” he asks.

  I can tell he’s the kind of man who will scrutinize me based on what I’m having, just guessing by the way he asks me that. Like it’ll give him a clue about who I am. I adjust in my seat and say, “Lagavulin, twelve-year, with one ice cube.”

  His eyebrow raises in surprise, and he gives me a nod of respect. “Scotch kinda girl. I can dig that.” He orders my drink and a Bulleit bourbon, neat, for himself. When our drinks arrive, we clink them together and sip in silence, each scrutinizing each other.

  “So do you always crash wedding parties on Saturday nights, or was this a special event for you?” I ask dryly, enjoying the flavor of the drink. Georgianna only had champagne, wine, and select snobby beers at the open bar, and while I enjoy those sometimes, I prefer a good scotch much more. Daddy taught me the value of quality liquor, that’s for sure.

  “I’d definitely say this is a special event.” He pulls a face and has another sip, then rests the glass on the bar and spins in his stool so he’s facing me. His gaze makes me feel like I’m naked, and my body tightens and heats in response. My breath grows shallow. One hand reaches over to brush a lock of hair from my face. “I should kiss you right now, Red.”

  He’s not bothering to hide his desire for me, and I find that incredibly sexy. “You bar
ely know me,” I breathe, finding my face turning toward his hand as his finger caresses the sensitive flesh right under my jaw.

  “I don’t have to know you to know that I want you.” There’s a heaviness in his words, the weight of promises. His thumb moves to stroke down the column of my neck, a slow, deliberate sweep that lets me know what kind of attention he’d pay to the rest of my body if I let him.

  I’ve never had sex before. Never really felt tempted by anyone I was dating in college to let that happen. But Axel is pushing me beyond anything I’ve experienced. My belly is tightening with every stroke, and I belatedly realize that at some point, my hand has reached over and is touching his knee.

  He groans, leans forward, and his lips brush across mine, a mere fleeting touch. Sparks fire in me, my pulse throbs in my ears, and I want more. “Please,” I find myself whispering, not sure what I’m asking for, just that I need…more.

  “Mmm you’re so fucking responsive, aren’t you? I can tell that already,” he murmurs close to my mouth, and then we’re kissing in earnest, his hands weaving through my expensive hairdo that suddenly I don’t give a crap about. I’m sucking in shallow breaths and tasting him, and he’s opened me to him and takes my mouth like he owns me.

  When he pulls back far too soon, his pupils are huge and his eyes hard on mine. “I want to fuck you tonight. Tell me yes, Kendra.”

  “This is insane,” I breathe. “We literally just met.” Am I really considering this? I didn’t say no.

  “But that’s what makes it so fucking exciting, isn’t it?” One corner of his mouth raises in a knowing smirk. “Bucking the system. Taking pleasure when and where we want it. Fuck what everyone else tells you to do. What do you want to do, Kendra? I won’t push you. I want you to come to me willingly.”

  And even though I know he wants me to come to bed with him, I also know that he genuinely is curious about what I desire. My chest gives a funny tug; I’m unprepared for someone like him. “I…” I reach over and with a drawn-in breath, swallow down the full glass of scotch like it’s a shot. My chest erupts in a delicious hot burn as the alcohol slides into my stomach. “I want that too. I…uh…have a room here.” Daddy insisted I be safe and stay onsite.

  Axel swigs down his bourbon, plops the empty glass on the bar, unfolds a couple of bills, then slaps them on the bar top. “Lead the way.” His hand slides into mine as I walk toward the elevator, not looking over to the wedding party, knowing that everyone in there would have words to say about what I’m doing.

  Somehow, right now, I don’t care. I’m a tiny bit buzzed, and I’m extremely turned on. My panties are wrecked, soaked from just the little bit of touching and kissing he and I have done.

  We get in the elevator, and after the door dings, I’m suddenly against the wall and he’s on me, his hands kneading my flesh over the dress, and I’m arching and gasping and writhing from his expert touch.

  “God,” I whisper, “oh, God.” I’m overwhelmed.

  “I’ll be whatever deity you want me to be tonight,” he says as he bites my collar bone, “just as long as you let me fuck that soaked pussy of yours. I can smell how turned on you are.”

  My face burns in mortification. Is it that evident? I feel myself freeze.

  “Oh, fuck no,” Axel says, lifting his head and drawing my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look at him. “Don’t you dare be embarrassed. Do you realize how insanely sexy it is that you want me too? My cock is about to burst out of my jeans at just the thought, much less how fucking good you feel in my hands. I’m just glad I’m not the only one.”

  His words warm me, and I find myself relaxing again. “I’m not used to…someone being so bold in what they say,” I admit. It’s heady but also intimidating.

  The door dings, and a couple walks inside with us. He doesn’t move, doesn’t look at them, just stares at me in silence as we go up the floors. My heart is hammering so hard I’m sure everyone in the elevator can hear it. And the way the couple seems to be looking between us and themselves, the tension must be crackling.

  When it gets to our floor, the door opens, and they get out first. I suck in a shallow breath and take his hand, leading him left toward my room. Dig the key card out from inside my little pocket and swipe.

  “Whoa, this is gorgeous,” he says after I flick on the lights.

  “Yeah, it isn’t too bad.” I toss the card onto the side table and kick off my shoes. Now that we’re here, I’m feeling awkward, unsure. What do I say now? I brought him up here to have sex. To take my virginity. Am I supposed to tell him I’ve never done it before, or just let him figure it out? Did he bring condoms with him? I didn’t think I was even going to be going this far tonight with anyone. Kissing, maybe, if I got a good buzz on and found someone I was attracted to.

  I’m way more than attracted to this man. My body is on fire for him.

  “Doing an awful lot of hard thinking over there,” Axel says, coming over to me. His hand reaches out to stroke my forearm, and my skin becomes alive under his touch. How does he do this to me?

  “I’m…unsure what to do,” I confess. “I’ve, uh…” The words won’t come out; they’re stuck in my throat.

  Axel doesn’t say anything. Instead he reaches behind me, and I hear the rasp of the zipper as my dress is undone. It puddles at my feet. His eyes grow heavy with appreciation when he looks at me, clad in just my strapless bra and panties. And then the bra is off, and he’s bending down and has one nipple in his mouth.

  I gasp. The sensation creates a strong tugging feeling down to my pussy, which becomes impossibly wet each time he suckles the tip. His big, warm hand cups my breasts, fondling, squeezing, and my body becomes molten for him, pliable, ready for him to touch me, take me.

  One hand reaches down to my apex, and there’s a faint touch as a finger caresses my labia through the drenched fabric. I shudder.

  Axel growls against my breast, still drawn into his mouth, and his hand cups me in a hot, insistent manner. He tugs my panties aside and plunges a finger straight inside me.

  Oh God. It’s so… His finger is stroking my inner walls, curving, the heel of his palm rubbing my clit, and I’m gripping his hair and uttering nonsensical words, begging him to keep going, to not stop. I’m burning alive, and my orgasm is nearing hard and fast, way faster than I’ve ever been able to bring it before by myself, way stronger than I knew possible.

  He releases my breast with a pop and when he looks at me, I swear I can see the devil’s glint in his eyes. “I want you to come all over my hand, Kendra. Give me that come. Right fucking now. Be a good girl for me.”

  The tightness in my lower belly coils into a furious spiral that starts right at my core, and then I’m exploding and screaming, and I can feel my juices gushing on his fingers, and he’s growling his pleasure and biting my neck, his fingers relentless, even when I start to shake because of how sensitive I am.

  As the orgasm ebbs, I sag a little, body exquisitely sated.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m done with you,” Axel promises. He steps back and strips off his clothes, and it’s a sheer joy to watch the man undress. When he tugs off his shirt, I can see even more ink covering his torso, bold words and phrases and beautiful artwork that my fingers itch to reach out and explore. His body is cut, tight, so different than my curves.

  But when boots and then his pants come off… Oh God, he isn’t even wearing boxers, his dick just boldly presented to me. And it is huge. Mouth-watering, frightening, massive. Veined and pulsing in between us. I want—no, I need—to touch it, feel it, even as it intimidates me a little.

  My panties are ripped off me—literally, he grabs one side and yanks the fabric apart, then the other—and I’m tossed onto the bed on my back. I’m no longer feeling sated. I’m aching.

  That orgasm was a warmup for the real thing. Him inside me.

  Axel grabs a foil packet from his jeans pocket and rolls on the condom, and then he’s between my thighs, and we’re kissing ag
ain. His body is so firm and exquisite on mine, one hand gripping my hair to yank my head back and expose my throat. He bites my jaw, my neck, my breasts, and I shudder as I feel my pussy spasm in anticipation. The mix of the tiny flares of pain with the sensuality of our naked bodies aligned…it’s erotic.

  I find my legs locking around his hips, my pelvis seeking to align with his. Instinct, nature, guiding us together.

  His cock is hard and heavy as he presses against my entrance. He pauses, pulls back to look down at me, and in that moment I feel a strange connection with this man, a total stranger to me, but one who dared to look deep and recognize the girl I am on the inside. The person who aches for more in her life.

  When he nudges his way in, his thickness filling me in a way that’s both amazing and uncomfortable, he groans. “My fucking God, you’re impossibly tight.”

  I try to stay relaxed, but a frisson of fear at what is happening works its way into me. I know this is going to hurt once he gets all the way inside, and I’m a little scared of the pain.

  Axel, somehow able to sense all the minute changes in me, pauses. His hand relaxes, and he reaches over to stroke my face, long movements down my throat and chest. He doesn’t move his cock, just stays here and drops his mouth to mine.

  This kiss isn’t a searing jolt of passion. It’s something oddly tender, and it takes away my breath. I find myself relaxing against him yet again, caught up in the sensations he’s making me experience, his hands, the way his tongue slides along mine, the smell of his musky scent. His body is hard but there’s more to him than that. I can feel it in how he is right now.

  Still kissing me, stroking me, Axel withdraws, then slides in again, just partway. Does it again. Again. Each time, he nudges a little deeper. And I find myself parting my knees, spreading myself wider, wanting him in further. Oh, this feels amazing. How he fills me this way, the throbbing of his erratic heartbeat against my breast, the way his tight ass clenches under my hands as I grip him and start to urge him on harder. Faster.