Beckett gripped my chin, not enough to hurt but to make me pay attention. “Clara, let me say this. No matter what changes between us, you can still tell me anything. I will always be here for you.”
I knew that. Well, I kind of assumed it. “It was nothing really, just noise.” This beautiful, massive man on a knee in front me with worry in his eyes, knew where all of my skeletons were hidden, so hearing me talking about my insecurities wouldn’t be anything new.
But we were becoming something new. Uncharted territory, or whatever. I knew deep in my bones that Beckett would go back to being just best friends if that’s what I wanted – if I decided the pressure and expectations was too much. Real or imagined.
“You’re down another rabbit hole, Clara.” Beckett’s voice was soft, more concern underlying it.
“Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I want to know where your mind is because I care about you.”
“It wasn’t anything interesting – noise, like I said.” I shook my head. Isodid not want to have this conversation right now. I wanted to go back to the little bubble of desire and pleasure and exploring what the physical could mean between us. I wanted to ignore the voices in my head trying to convince me I was a temporary guest in his bed.
I stared at his lips and then flicked my gaze back up to his. “Beckett,” I whispered, running my fingers through his hair and pulling him close. “Kiss me again.”
Beckett leaned in and took my mouth with his. It was tentative at first, until I tugged on his hair.
I didn’t think he would drop the conversation so easily, but he seemed wholly content to distract me.
Beckett tugged me off the chair, but he wouldn’t let me sit on the floor with him. Instead, he stood and bent to capture my mouth with his, his hands lifting the hem of the shirt I borrowed. I hummed as he skimmed his fingers along the bare skin of my lower back.
My blood heated and I reached up to wrap my hands around his neck, content to do nothing else for the rest of the night except kiss him. It felt natural to kiss Beckett, but the height difference made it awkward for my neck. I fisted a hand in the front of his t-shirt and pulled him to his couch. I pushed him so that he sat first, and I straddled his lap.
Beckett reached for me, pulling me close, and started to explore my neck with his mouth. I tipped my head back to give him easier access, lost to the feel of him beneath me. Every part of me was on fire, and I rolled my hips against his lap.
I gasped when Beckett slid one hand under the fabric of my borrowed shirt to cup and knead my breast. I pulled the shirt over my head, and Beckett paused to trace his fingers down the column of my throat, down my chest and along the outside of one of my breasts before he did the same to the other side.
“Oh, my little wren, you are so beautiful.”
I blushed at his compliment. I ran my fingers through his hair, not yet fully dry. He closed his eyes and sighed as I gently scratched along his scalp with my nails.
“That feels so nice.”
I “hmmed,” and continued. “When was the last time someone played with your hair?”
“Never, unless you count when I get it cut.”
I grinned to myself. “I do not.”
“Then, never.”
“None of your girlfriends ever played with your hair?” I couldn’t believe it. His hair was so soft, and just long enough to run my fingers through.
Beckett sighed. “I guess they weren’t interested.”
“Their loss.” I whispered.
He tightened his grip on my hips, and I let my hands fall to his shoulders. He looked up at me, desire clear in his gaze. I felthis hardness through the layers of clothes, and I wanted to feel him inside of me.
But I wasn’t sure I could cross that final line, not yet. He must have seen the hesitation on my face, because he said, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Clara. You are in complete control.”
Well, then. That was a heady piece of information. My entire body burned with need and demanded release. Again.
I leaned to kiss him, and I rolled my hips as our lips met. The pressure and friction together created a jolt of pleasure. God, it felt so good.
I rolled my hips again, my body operating with a mind of its own.
Beckett kissed me, and he flexed his fingers on my hips, urging me and guiding me until I was positioned on his thigh.
