“Sorry,” she whispered, pulling away as if embarrassed. As if she thought he didn’t want her embrace.
Nothing could have been further from the truth.
“Stay,” he said, closing his arms around her back. He pulled her in tight.
And as they stood in the dark holding each other, Beckett had a goddamned ridiculous realization.
He could count the number of people who had hugged him before this moment on one finger—Becca, when she’d apologized to him for what they’d all thought her father had done. Before that, Beckett couldn’t ever remember being hugged. Not once.
Chapter 6
The revelation was about as comfortable as swallowing glass. Beckett wanted to run from it. Hard and fast.
Problem was, his arms wouldn’t let Kat go. His body refused to pull away. In fact, the louder he yelled at himself to get the hell out of there, the more firmly he hugged Kat against him.
She squeezed him tighter in return, and he was acutely aware of how her body fit against his. Her heart beat quicker against his abdomen. Soft puffs of her breath caressed his arm. Muscles that had been relaxed tensed. Her hands gripped his back tighter, with more purpose, with something that felt like want.
Beckett didn’t think he was imagining any of this. And it lit a fire inside his body, one that had his blood heating and his heart racing and his cock hardening against her belly.
But he couldn’t act on any of it. Or at least he shouldn’t. First, because it’d only been a few hours since he’d taken her the first time, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her or make her feel like he was using her for sex. Second, because his gut reaction after their first time was that it had been a mistake, which meant he really shouldn’t repeat it. And third, because . . . because . . . Well, fuck. Screw a third reason. Two reasons were good enough.
Except then she tensed her stomach muscles against his erection, shifted her stance, and made a soft noise in her throat that sounded really fucking similar to a moan.
“Katherine,” he said, voice full of warning. Because he stood right on the knife’s edge between doing the right thing and taking her down to the floor and fucking her until neither of their legs would work for the rest of the night.
Slowly, Kat tilted her head back to look at him. And her face was a mask of desire. Mouth open, eyes hooded.
His hand slid in to the silk of her hair, and her eyelids fell closed.
It was like holding a priceless work of art in his hands. Beautiful. Compelling. Untouchable.
Except he was touching her. And he wanted more. His grip tightened in her hair. And the moan that spilled out of her as she went pliant in his arms made him rock hard. “What are you doing to me?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice no more than a breath. “But I think you’re doing it to me, too.” Her eyelids rose. “At least, I want you to.”
How the fuck was he supposed to resist that?
Her hands slid up his arms and settled on the bulk of his biceps for a long moment, and then they continued upward until they circled his neck. She had to push onto her tiptoes to lace her hands together, and in the process, dragged her body teasingly against his hard-on.
“Damnit, Kat, I’m trying to be a good guy here.” His arm banded around her lower back, supporting her weight and keeping her close. He felt like he stood on a slippery slope, the loose gravel under his feet taking him down no matter how much he tried to stay in place.
“Why?” she asked.
Breath coming faster, he nailed her with a hard gaze. “Because if I let myself off this fucking leash, I’m going to be all over you.”
“Beckett.” She pushed upward until her mouth neared his ear. “Let go.”
What happened next was a frenzy of kisses and shedding clothes and moaned encouragements. Beckett stripped her of her sweater in a quick movement and himself of his T-shirt. And then he made quick work of her jeans and shoes, too, manhandling her however he needed to get the job done. She was a goddess in a skimpy black-bra-and-panty set, but he wasn’t in the mood to appreciate aesthetics, and they soon joined the rest of her clothes on the floor. He kissed her and stroked her and moved her into the shadows of the far corner.
“Oh, my God,” Kat rasped around the edge of a kiss. “Yes, yes.” Her hands undid the button and zipper on his jeans. Together, they worked the last of his clothing and boots off.
And then Beckett lowered himself into a crouch, hooked his arms under her thighs and lifted her up the wall until her legs slipped over his shoulders, placing her core right in front of his face.
He didn’t even give her a chance to react. He couldn’t. He was ravenous for her.
Holding her ass in his hands, he planted his mouth between her legs and licked and sucked and worried his tongue at her clit. He fed on her taste and her slick arousal and the way she pushed him tighter against her.
On a strangled scream, her fingers scratched at his scalp. “Fuuuck,” she whimpered, her voice quivering and high. Her thighs shook and tried to close around his head, but he used the width of his shoulders to hold her open to his mouth. “Jesus, Beckett . . .”
He sucked her clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue against it again and again and again. Relentless. Coaxing. Demanding.
Guttural moans spilled out of her as her orgasm hit, but Beckett didn’t let up one bit. He sucked her through it, basking in the fucking amazing glow of her ecstasy—and in the fact that he’d been the one to give it to her.
Not whoever the fuck this Cole was.
Where the hell did that come from? No way was he trying to figure it out now.
When Kat stopped shaking against him, Beckett gently released his mouth from her sensitive flesh. Legs still over his shoulders, he allowed her body to slide a little lower so he could work kisses over her stomach, the mounds of her breasts, her nipples. Her hands gently held the sides of his head, encouraging him, urging him on. And then he looked up and met her gaze.
Goddamnit, she was gorgeous. The truth of it sucker-punched him every time he saw her.
“What do you want, Kat?”
She wore a small, dazed smile. “How could I possibly ask for anything after that?”
A soul-deep male satisfaction lanced through him, but he wanted to know what she wanted. He gave her thigh a little bite and devoured the surprised moan that spilled out of her like the greedy bastard he was.
“What. Do. You. Want?”
She licked her lips. “Get inside me.”
Hell, yeah. He pulled her off the wall, lowered her down his body, her legs sliding to the crooks of his arms, and centered her wet opening over the head of his cock. “Fuck. Condom.” He didn’t have one on him, as he hadn’t gone back up to his bedroom after their first time. He lifted her up, the withdrawal of her slick heat almost painful.
Her arms around his neck, she cupped the back of his head and seemed to search his face. “I’m on birth control. And I’m clean.”
Was she saying . . . “Uh, Jesus. I’ve never had sex without a condom.”
“Ever?” she asked, her eyebrows rising.
He shook his head, which added to the spinning sensation currently rattling his brain around in there. Would she seriously welcome him into her body unprotected? And would he seriously consider doing it? Much as he feared his capacity to turn into his father, he was determined never to become one and chance doing to a child what had been done to him.
“I trust you, Beckett,” she whispered, kissing him softly on the corner of the mouth. “Take me. Please.”
This woman was blowing his mind tonight. She really was. Before he’d even made a conscious decision to do it, his body was responding to her request, lowering her down until his head rubbed against the soft, hot lips of her center. And then he was sinking deep. Skin on skin.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, the unfiltered heat and grip of a woman’s body around his cock unlike anything he’d ever felt. Except, this wasn’t just any woman. Thi
s was Katherine Rixey. Who was unexpectedly providing him with a whole series of firsts tonight.
And that wound him up. Hard.
“Hold on,” he growled. Using his arms to control the movement of her body, Beckett fucked her fast, needing more, more, always more. He might’ve worried that he was being too rough with her if it hadn’t been for the constant stream of “Yes, yes, oh yes,” she unleashed in his ear. Her words were almost a sob of pleasure, and they only cut off when another orgasm washed over her and stole her breath.
There was nothing as fucking gorgeous as the face of a woman shattered by the pleasure you gave her. Nothing.
Releasing her left leg to the floor, Beckett lowered her enough so she could balance on her one foot while he continued to hold the other leg up, freeing his hand to grip her hair and force her to arch her back. Still moving inside her, he soaked in the pleasured expression she wore on her face, the way her breasts bounced when he bottomed out inside her, the dance of her hair around her shoulders. Fucking gorgeous. Every damn thing about her. And it made him want to please her. Over and over. “Can you come for me again, Kat?”
“I . . . I don’t . . . know,” she rasped. “Oh, God, Beckett.”
“What do you need?” he asked, his voice full of grit at how the change in position made her so much tighter.
“Just don’t stop. Please.” Her nails dug into his shoulders.
He didn’t. He wouldn’t. Not as long as she wanted him, because in Beckett’s experience, that was fucking everything. So he kept thrusting hard and fast and deep, grinding his teeth against the pressure building low in his gut. Angling his hips, he made sure to roll his pelvic bone against her clit, goddamned intent on feeling her come one more time.
“Shit, shit, shit,” she breathed, her leg starting to shake.
He hiked her closer so that he was literally hunched around her, his cock gliding in and out on fast, shallow strokes that shoved him right to the very edge.
“Fuck, Kat. Too good,” he said, his orgasm bearing down on him.
“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop,” she moaned.
Beckett battled back his own need for release and kept his hips moving until Kat buried her face in his chest and wailed. He wanted to roar in triumph as she came apart again. Instead, his orgasm nailed him in the back. On instinct, he pulled out of her, grabbed his cock, and yelled at the overwhelming intensity of his release, coming against her belly until he saw stars.
As their bodies calmed, Beckett gently released her leg, still holding onto her until she seemed steadier on her feet. Their labored breaths sounded loud in the otherwise silent room, and a boulder of regret parked itself on Beckett’s shoulders.
Not because they’d had sex again.
But because it was over.
HOLY. SHIT.
Kat’s legs were made of Jell-O. She was sure of it.
Never in her life had she been with a man capable of lifting her and holding her the way Beckett did. His strength was an utter turn-on. His ability to pull orgasms from her a mind-blowing revelation. Couple all that with the look he’d worn on his face—the one that was part soul-deep yearning and part primal-male satisfaction—and she was . . . just . . . totally and completely blown away.
Still holding onto Beckett, she forced a deep breath. “Wow,” she managed.
“Wow, good?” he asked, voice full of gravel.
“You really have to ask?” She smiled at him, but realized he wasn’t smiling back. He was asking. Seriously. For some reason that made her chest ache. How could he not know? She cupped his handsome face in her hand. “Wow, very good.”
He nodded, and at least a little of the question eased from his expression. “Good.” He squeezed her hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed.”
“There’s a bathroom in the hallway.” As Beckett strode out of the room in all his naked glory, Kat wondered why he’d pulled out at the last minute. She didn’t mind. The heat of his seed spilling against her skin had been sexy as fuck.
Really, though, she had more important things to worry about. Like getting her sweater back on before Beckett noticed the bruises on her arms. Earlier, he’d gotten her top off before she even realized what he was doing. And in the heat of the moment, she’d forgotten about the marks. Thank God for the darkness in here. But the last thing she wanted to do was give Beckett a reason to hound her. Which, if he was anything like Nick with the crazy overprotectiveness, he totally would.
Quickly, she found and put on her bra. She had just stuffed her arms back in the sleeves of her sweater when Beckett returned. “Got chilly,” she said, giving him a small smile. She pulled the top over her head but held it up from her stomach.
“Sorry,” he said, wiping at her belly first with a set of warm, wet paper towels, and then drying her with a few others.
He’d thought to warm the towels. Gah! “Don’t be,” she said, keeping her voice casual so she didn’t give away that his thoughtfulness had touched her. She watched him clean her, his big hands working against her belly. God, he could be so gentle. Despite the strength. Despite his size.
Quietly, they sorted clothing from the random piles strewn across the floor. And Kat tried to make some sense of the thoughts sluggishly churning inside her head. Aside from the sex, what did she think of this man? Did it matter? Could this crazy, random, scorchingly hot sex just be all they were? They were single, consenting adults, after all. But could either of them really afford the all-consuming distraction being together caused? Because she hadn’t thought about anything else except Beckett Murda for the last . . . however long they’d been in here. She didn’t even know.
Kat sighed as she pulled on the last of her clothes. Not knowing was the problem in a nutshell, wasn’t it? She fished her cell phone out of her back pocket and pressed the button to wake up the screen. Damn. She’d gone to let Eileen out forty-five minutes ago. That was going to be fun to explain.
She looked up to find Beckett watching her, a strange, unreadable expression on his face. “Just seeing if Marz texted me,” she said. “He was going to grab some dinner and then work on my laptop before I logged into the network.”
Beckett nodded. Looked like they were back to his quiet routine. Though she supposed that was a step up from audibly cursing what had happened, like he did the last time.
“Look, Beckett, this was amazing. Both times, actually. But I guess I’m wondering—”
“If we should make it the last?”
Oh, sure. Now he talks.
And the words he’d decided to speak kinda dropped a rock inside her stomach. Ridiculous, given that she’d been about to suggest essentially the same exact thing. Hypocritical, much?
“Yeah. I guess so.” Kat shrugged and mentally pulled on her big girl panties. After all, how upset could she be? The man had just given her three orgasms. And, no doubt, this night would be the gift that would keep on giving, because those memories would be with her during many lonely nights to come. Ha. Pun so intended. “It’s just—”
He waved her off. “Nah. Say no more. Totally get it. Completely agree.” He crouched down to tie his boots.
Kat nodded. “Right. So, good.” She was just thinking what else to say when her phone buzzed in her hand. Even though she expected a text from Marz any time now, her belly still tightened. Because there was always the chance it would be another nastygram from Cole. Schooling her expression, she read the message and breathed a sigh of relief. She held it up so Beckett could see. “Looks like Marz is ready for me.”
“Yeah. You go ahead, then. I’ll follow in a few.” He rose to his full height. “That way, you know, no one will think we were together.”
Made sense. So then why did the idea of denying him feel kinda crappy? “Okay. Sure.”
For a moment, her feet wouldn’t move. And she realized it was because . . . she didn’t want to leave him. Stupid, really. It wasn’t like they were . . . anything more than two near-strangers who’d found an amazing sexual re
lease with one another in the midst of a dire crisis.
“So. I’ll, uh, go. Now.” She thumbed over her shoulder. When he didn’t say anything, she turned and made for the door.
And had to fight back the urge to turn around and kiss him good-bye.
Chapter 7
After rescuing poor Eileen from her long sojourn out back, Kat rushed up to the gym. Food would have to wait at this point. Though, after two crazy hot bouts of sex in the last few hours, she was starving.
Back in the gym, Kat just barely avoided getting scratched when Eileen spotted Cy and jerked out of her arms, barking and racing after the poor antisocial cat. Cy bolted toward the equipment rack and leapt onto the third shelf, high enough to be safe from the puppy, especially since having only one back leg made it difficult for Eileen to stand and try to reach him.
As if there wasn’t enough craziness around this place . . .
Shaking her head, Kat passed the makeshift table in the corner, filled mostly with Ravens, but also with Easy, Jenna, and Sara, too, and crossed the room. Marz, Nick, Becca¸ and Shane were all seated around Marz’s desk and looked up as a group as she approached.
“Hey, sorry,” Marz said. “We tried to wait for you to eat . . .”
“Yeah. Where’d you disappear to?” Nick asked.
“Sorry,” she said, shrugging. “I took Eileen out and just needed a little time to myself.”
Nick frowned. “Kat, if you’re having second thoughts—”
“I’m not,” she said. “The last few days have been a lot. That’s all. I know I don’t have to tell you guys that.”
Her brother eyeballed her for a long moment, then gave a single, resigned nod.
“Got your machine squared away,” Marz said, pointing to the laptop on the edge of the table behind him. “I adjusted some settings to hide the physical location of the computer and hook you up to our proxy server, and I added a souped-up firewall. Just some precautions. Also networked you so you can save any documents to the local network as opposed to your machine.”
“Wow, okay. So, we’re all set?” she asked, her stomach going for a loop-the-loop. Because she was about to cross a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. And that wasn’t nothing for a woman who’d built a life around the law.