The Beckett Boys- The Complete Series Box Set

by Olivia Chase

  I could drown in this experience and die happy.

  Axel rolls on a condom and perches between my still-open thighs. His hands graze my sensitive flesh, making goosebumps erupt everywhere he touches. Soon I’m a wanton mess, writhing on my bedspread, my pussy impossibly soaked and dripping onto the bedspread.

  “You’re so ripe for me,” he says, his thumbs brushing the very outer edges of my outer labia. I want him touching me again, but he denies me, cruelly getting me wetter and wetter and more desperate.

  I’m beginning to whine, but I’m too far gone to care how I sound, even if it’s needy. I’m yanking against my restraints, wanting to touch him, aching to. Or hell, even to touch myself. I don’t have any relief.

  “Too loud,” he says, and then my panties are crammed in my mouth and his cock is pushing into my sopping pussy, and I’m gasping and thrusting against him.

  I moan into the soaked fabric, my tongue wrapped around the delicate cotton. Our eyes are locked as he enters me, withdraws, pushes in again. He’s taking his time now, not rushed. No, this man is seeking to drive me to oblivion.

  His cock strokes my inner walls with a frustratingly slow pace. His hands are gliding across my skin, driving my desire through the ceiling. I’m pulsing for him, my blood humming in my veins just for him. I don’t know why, but Axel has worked his way into me already, and I’m helpless.

  He leans down until our bodies are aligned, mouths close together.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, it hurts,” Axel says, and he rips the panties out of my mouth and takes my lips in a searing kiss that leaves me crying aloud against him. His cock begins to pound me frantically, hands gripping and clenching me, kneading my flesh, and I’m dizzy with desire.

  “Yes,” I whisper, wanting everything he can give me. This lust is beyond anything I have ever experienced. It’s consuming, insane, intense. Another orgasm is swelling in me. Begging to erupt. “I’m… Please,” I beg, pushing my pelvis against him.

  “You need to come again, baby?” he purrs.

  I nod.

  “You’ll come on my cock,” Axel demands, grabbing my hips and pistoning into me like our very lives depend on it. “Nothing else. Come all over me, Kendra. Fucking give it to me.”

  He pounds me hard, driving into me over and over again. I’m arching against him, straining from the restraints, on edge and thinking about nothing else but Axel and what he does to me.

  My orgasm crashes over me in a wave of desire, and I barely catch myself and stop from screaming at the top of my lungs. My pussy is spasming around him in an uncontrollable clench.

  “Fuck,” he grunts, “you’re so tight, I…” A few more thrusts, and then he’s spilling into me, and we’re both riding high on these sensations, the energy streaming between our locked bodies.

  We pause, and I suck in several ragged breaths.

  Axel pulls back, a slow smile spreading on his face. My heart gives a funny lurch at the sight—he’s ridiculously hot, I tell myself. That’s all. There isn’t anything else here but physical lust, and that’s just fine.

  He fiddles with the leather belt binding me and releases my wrists, then massages them with gentle fingers to ease the soreness. The move is tender, and I try not to read into it. “You get five minutes to rest, Kendra. Then comes round two. And I won’t be so easy on you next time.”

  God, I hope not. I want him rough, insistent, taking what he wants from me. The heat and promise in his voice has me replying, “You promise?”

  Axel

  A couple of hours until I see her again.

  It’s crazy how my life has begun to evolve into certain time delineations. When I’m not with Kendra, I’m home, usually doing stuff around the neighborhood and futilely attempting to convince the residents that they shouldn’t move, shouldn’t cave to this mall idea of selling their souls for short-term cash.

  Chris thinks I’m nuts for trying, that it’s a foregone conclusion, but I don’t care. I want to do one last thing, see if I can have any impact at all.

  It isn’t working so far.

  Why must everyone leave? Why must everything change?

  I stretch out on my bed and stare at the ceiling. The fan is whipping fast above me, sending warm air cycling through the room. Summer is descending hard and fast on Rock Bridge.

  Used to be, my brothers and I would hang out together in the family room right above now, drinking beer and talking shit. I’d often be in the corner doing a tattoo—haven’t done one in months, sadly, because I was stupidly busy at Fugitives. We’d talk about everything and nothing, just chatting, just being in the moment. And for chunks at a time, I could escape into it and imagine I had grown up with them. That I was a part of their family, a full-blooded Beckett boy.

  What a fucking fool I was. They all left me behind without batting an eye.

  My stomach turns, and I flip onto my right side, and let out a harsh breath. I don’t care, I chant to myself. None of that shit matters anymore. It’s in the past—Chris is right, I do have to stop living back then, wishing things were different. I can’t change what was, but I can change what will be. I just have to stay dedicated.

  There are several other residents who, like me, haven’t yet caved to the demands. I won’t give in; Butch at least would appreciate my dedication toward keeping our neighborhood intact.

  I need to find another job, too. The little money I have socked away is going to disappear soon enough. I just gotta figure out what the fuck I’m going to do next. I don’t wanna work in the restaurant business, that much is sure.

  Nothing else really appeals to me except my art. Tattooing. I don’t know if that’s even a viable option for me though. Where the hell could I work? With almost no legit work experience and a last name that comes with all sorts of preconceptions, it’s hard to know if anyone would hire me…

  My phone buzzes, and I grab it off the bedside table, shoving aside my thoughts.

  Ugh, I need a drink. Work sucked today. I hope your day went better.

  I can’t fight the smile at the sight of Kendra’s text. We’ve been talking for about a week now, and seeing each other as often as we can. After I snuck into her dad’s massive fucking mansion and fucked her senseless in her bed, I lingered as long as I could and didn’t leave until dawn was peeking over the horizon.

  Now I can’t get enough of her.

  My day is better now, I type, knowing it’s dangerously close to sounding emotional, but sending it anyway. It’s true, I argue with myself. Doesn’t mean it’s anything beyond physical. We’ve fucked like crazy. Neither of us has brought up anything beyond what we’re doing. Which is good. I don’t want to do more than fucking.

  Right?

  Aww, is someone getting sentimental on me? she writes back, teasing me and making me feel an embarrassed flush. The comment is too close to what I’ve been concerned about. JK. You hungry? Let’s get a burger and beer. My treat.

  I’m in. But my treat. There’s no way I’m letting her pay while we’re out. It might sound old-fashioned or weird, but I can’t. Even if it makes us cross dangerously close to dating territory.

  Is that what we’re doing? Are we dating? I can tell myself all I like that it’s just physical, nothing more. But truth is, I look forward to hearing from Kendra almost as much as seeing her, being inside her. Getting a message from her is the highlight of my fucking day.

  I’m in trouble.

  She writes back, You’re stubborn. :-P

  You’re not the first to say that, I type, laughing. It’s one of my better qualities, or so I tell people.

  I hope I see some of your better qualities tonight, she writes, then sends a winky face. I like how flirty she is. Kendra might have been a virgin before me, but she isn’t scared of being sexual or having dirty cravings. She isn’t prudish, shy about her desires. She’s open and honest.

  And it’s been amazing exploring those things with her. Delving into our fantasies. She loves being tied up, I’ve discove
red, so I make sure to have something handy that can bind those sexy wrists or ankles of hers. Having her submissive below me, pliant, eager to please…it makes me want to do corrupt things to her. I’m so fucked up, and I don’t even care.

  You will. I have a new idea tonight, I write back. I hope she’s amenable to it.

  Oh? Sounds promising.

  We text about where to meet. I do a workout, take a shower, try not to think about how much I’m eager to see her again. Fuck. What is it about her that has dug under my skin? I’m reminded of how my brothers fell so easily into a similar trap. I won’t be like that.

  I can still do this with her and be safe.

  It’s just fucking. Nothing more.

  Even if I savor the feel of Kendra in my arms after she’s come, how warm and soft she is against me. The rich smell of her hair, her skin. How she sighs in her sleep, her lips delicate and parted. The way her fingers twitch to touch my skin when she’s deep in the throes of sleep. Like she’s unconsciously reaching out to grip me. Vulnerable. Sweet. Beautiful.

  Or the fact that lying with her, I sleep better than I have in months. Maybe even for fucking years.

  I drop to the ground and do as many push-ups as I can until I break out in a sweat. Focus on that, I tell myself. Not on anything else. She’s just a girl.

  Just a girl.

  Yet I get in the shower again to make sure I’m fresh and clean before I go meet her. And when I do see her, my hands are drawn to her, my mouth, and I can’t stop myself from reaching out and touching her. Claiming her.

  Those sexy-as-fuck curves of her hips. The roundness of her ass. God, I want to take her right here in the middle of this damn burger joint. I don’t even care who sees. I’m going crazy for her.

  “Well, hi,” she says with a giggle as I nuzzle her throat. “I’m glad to see you too.”

  “Are you sure we need to eat?” I growl against her delicate skin. “Because all I want to taste is you.”

  She pulls back and eyes me. Her fingers stroke my Adam’s apple, which jumps under her touch. “If you don’t want me to pass out tonight, you should feed me.”

  “Oh, I’ll feed you, all right,” I say.

  She laughs and swats at me. “Not that.”

  We get a table. Check out the menu. I force myself to look at the burger selections, not at the beautiful woman across from me who somehow becomes more stunning with every damn second that passes.

  She sweeps a strand of hair behind her ear. “What are you getting?”

  “The double burger with extra cheese,” I say. “And the cheddar fries.”

  Kendra scowls. “How the hell do you eat all that and stay as fit as you are? If I did, I’d look as big as a house.”

  “Not likely, given how much I’ve been fucking you. That’s gotta count as exercise.”

  Her face explodes in redness as she gapes at me. “Oh my God, you’re…”

  “Always ready?” I offer, enjoying her slight discomfort at innuendos.

  “You’re too much.” She swallows and chews on her lower lip. “You think I’d be used to your boldness by now, but I guess it takes time.”

  And then my stupid brain is running with that, wondering what things would be like between us a month from now. Would I be sated on her taste, her smell, the way she feels? Would I grow tired of her and be ready to move on?

  Or would I just grow more addicted? Ache for more of her, until it isn’t enough to see her without being able to sleep by her every night?

  Our waiter thankfully comes over to save me from myself and my thoughts. We place our orders. He brings us beer. We toast and drink.

  I can’t stop staring at her.

  She looks ripe and womanly, her breasts full and barely restrained in her white professional dress shirt. Something about seeing her like this makes me want to sully her. Make her less pure so it feels like I’m good enough for her.

  Enough of that shit. I drive that thought out of my mind. I don’t have to be good enough for her if we’re just fucking. This is just physical, even if my stupid brain sometimes tries to think it’s more.

  “So, you have brothers?” Kendra innocently asks as she sips her beer. “Tell me about them.”

  I draw in a slow breath. “Yeah, I’m the youngest of five. Well, they’re my half-brothers, anyway.”

  Her eyes drift to look over my shoulder. “I don’t have any siblings. I can’t imagine what it was like, growing up with that many.”

  “I didn’t always,” I say.

  Her gaze snaps to mine. “Oh? I’m sorry. I made assumptions.”

  “It’s fine.” I wave her comment away, drag at my beer, acting like nothing matters. “I was bounced around for a while until Butch took me in a few years ago. By then, it was too late for me to be…fully accepted, I guess.” I shrug. “They already had grown up together, and I was just added on out of nowhere.”

  Kendra tugs her lower lip between her teeth. “I feel like I should say I’m sorry, but that wasn’t really your fault. Sounds like they should have been more accepting of you though. You were in the hard spot, being the odd guy out.” She pauses. “My mom and dad divorced about ten years ago. I chose to live with Daddy. My mom never forgave me for that—we never talk anymore because of it.” The words are delivered with a light air, but I can hear more emotion behind them.

  It’s funny to hear her call her old man Daddy. I call mine Butch.

  She really is a good girl—perhaps too good for me after all.

  I’m torn. Part of me wants to reach out and comfort her about the shitty divorce she lived through. The other part wants to fucking take off and run from this conversation, because this is digging into serious territory. “That sucks,” I offer, finally.

  She gives a halfhearted shrug and looks over at the crowd of people in the restaurant. “Whatever. I don’t care. She’s the one missing out.”

  “Yes, she is.” The sincere words spill from me before I can stop them.

  Our burgers arrive, interrupting our conversation, thankfully. Shit is starting to get too deep; I’m not ready for that. The discussion turns to lighter things—by silent agreement, neither of us is discussing the mall project. So we talk about random things—high school, funny childhood memories, and so on.

  And then suddenly, I’ve had enough of light conversation and burgers. I need her. Right now.

  “Finish your food,” I say in a gruff voice.

  Thankfully she’s picking up on what I mean without question. We down the rest of our burgers, and I toss money on the table. We swig the last of our beers. And then we’re outside, and I’m pressing her against the far side of the building, where there are no cars or people. Just a fence and some trees.

  I can’t wait. “I want you. Right here.”

  I can hear her audible gasp. “That’s wicked, Axel.”

  When my fingers delve beneath her skirt and touch her soaked pussy, I can tell she’s into the idea, despite her shocked words. “Your body tells me what you crave, dirty girl. You want this too. Don’t deny it.” And then I’m withdrawing my cock from my jeans, wishing I could just slide right into her, bareback. I manage to keep my right mind and put on a condom.

  There’s no warmup, no foreplay. We’re both horny and aching for each other. I thrust into her, and our groans mingle in the darkness. One of her legs reaches up and wraps around my hips, and I grip her ass and fuck her up against the brick wall.

  My kisses pepper her skin as she clings to me, and her juices are covering my dick. I can feel her softening and soaking for me, and it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever felt. This woman gives herself to me without thought. I reach up and grip her hair, forcing her head back, and bite her throat. I need to be primal. I need her to be mine. It’s a ridiculous thought, but it’s there, and I give in, just for this moment. “I fucking love this pussy,” I tell her, though I want to say more.

  “Yes, please,” she mewls, her fingers scrabbling to maintain a hold on my shoulders. She�
��s pushing against me as hard as she can, and I can hear her orgasm coming. I already know her body as intimately as I know my own. So I grip her ass and thrust myself into her until she’s off the ground, both legs wrapped around me, my cock plunging that wet pussy so deep.

  “Come for me,” I breathe against her, moving up to capture her mouth. I need her orgasm more than any other motherfucking thing I’ve ever needed in my entire life.

  She stiffens, arches, then cries out, and I swallow her sounds of pleasure with my mouth as her pussy milks my cock with her spasms. It’s erotic, it’s heady, it’s the most intense feeling ever.

  I’m not long after her. My balls are tight, aching to explode, and my cock is a hammer still battering inside her, and then I’m coming too, spurting into her. I don’t know that I’ve ever come this much in my life.

  Our foreheads are resting against each other as she slowly lowers her legs. I’m still inside her. I don’t want to pull out. I want this amazing creature here pressed against me, and it’s almost embarrassing how badly I crave that.

  But I shake that off and make myself pull out. Toss the condom and tuck myself back in. She straightens her clothing, not looking at me.

  After a couple of painful moments of her avoiding eye contact, I tilt her chin until she’s forced to eye me. “Hey.”

  She sucks her lower lip between her teeth. “Hey.” Her eyes are loaded with questions I can’t answer. Questions I can’t even let myself think about.

  This is way too fucking intense for just sex. I don’t know what’s going on, but this woman makes me feel stuff I never thought I would. And I keep telling myself it’s nothing more, but it is.

  Problem is, I don’t know what to do with this.

  “Want some ice cream?” I ask. It’s shitty, but I gotta lighten things up here. I’m not ready for this.

  She takes the bait, beaming, and bastard that I am, I’m grateful. “Oh God, that sounds so perfect.”

  I lead her over to my bike, and we take off down the road. She wraps herself around me, resting against my back, her arms around my waist.