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Anya dropped her head back and let out a loud laugh. “Glittertits. I like that. I like that a lot.”
“Thanks, I just made it up. You inspired me.”
She shook her head before pointing at Beckham, smile wide on her face. “You better not fuck this up. I like this guy.”
“Yeah, I do, too,” Beckham shot back, pulling me into his side and kissing the top of my head. I could feel my cheeks flush bright red.
“Too sweet. I’m going to barf. I love it.” Anya turned to the computer. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the place, but no one suspect has walked in or out. I did see Mario leave like an hour ago.”
“I’ll be giving him a visit tomorrow, then.”
“What?” I turned to Beckham. “You’re going to confront him? Already?”
Beckham looked a little taken aback by my sudden questions. “I just want to ask some preliminary questions. Get him sweating, if he did in fact have something to do with the murder. I’ve been doing this a while, Oliver. I know how I can get someone to crack. If we’re lucky, I think we can have this ended by tomorrow night.”
Now I was sweating. I expected to have more time, just so I could process this all, and so that Beckham would have an undeniable case against Mario. “With the threats… Beck, I’m just nervous.”
“I know, and I knew this would happen. It’s why I wanted you to stay in the car.”
“Okay, but I don’t think I needed to stay in the car like some kid. I’m glad you brought me up here, I’m just worried, that’s all.” I felt a flare of defensiveness light up inside me. I absolutely dreaded conflict, most of all with the man who held my heart in the palm of his hand, but the pressure of the situation and fear of the future was getting to me.
Beckham pulled back. “I didn’t mean it like that, Olly. I’m just saying.”
“I know how you meant it.” I waved it off, feeling a little dumb for dictating what Beckham should or shouldn’t do. He was right—this was his job. I had to trust that he knew what the next best step was.
“What did I say about fucking this up?” Anya asked, throwing a pointed stare at Beckham, who shrunk visibly underneath her gaze.
It got a laugh out of me. I grabbed Beckham’s hand and fell into his side. “He’s biologically incapable of fucking things up.”
“Mhmm,” Anya said. “You haven’t tried his cooking, then, have you?”
Beckham laughed this time. The small slice of tension vanished as quickly as it had appeared. I blamed it on the stress of this case and the threat that had rocked my world. It was enough to have me consider calling it all off altogether, but I stopped myself short every time. This case had to go on, and it had to be solved. Not only for myself, but for Derrick.
And with Anya’s help, it looked like we were that much closer to a solution.
* * *
The music poundedthrough my body. The rhythm was infectious as we danced along to the beat, the stage only a few feet away from us. We were up close and personal with the goddess herself, who managed to pull off dance moves I didn’t think were even possible. J.Lo was defying gravity and putting on a show I would never forget. Her sequined white-and-gold outfit was catching all the light and throwing it back to the audience, keeping her the center of attention no matter where she went on stage.
At one point, I shimmied my hips a little too hard and ended up shimmying right in front of Beckham. Instead of returning to his side, I stayed there, moving my hips, finding the beat and sticking to it. Beckham put his hands on my hips and moved with me, dancing to the music.
I felt soalive.
I ground my ass back on him, and the crowd around us slowly but surely disappeared. All I could focus on was the mind-blowing show in front of me and the heart-melting man behind me. Nothing else mattered. All my stress floated away. All my fears were nowhere to be found.
“Wooo!” I shouted as J.Lo waved and looked directly at me, wearing a golden sequin bodysuit that fit her like a glove, undoubtedly sucking a little piece of my soul from me.
A piece I’d happily give to her, just for the record.
The massive screens behind her displayed hypnotizing visuals of flowers. The next song she started to sing was a slower one, but Beckham didn’t let go of my hips. We swayed slowly to the beautiful melody, feeling almost as if she were serenading us personally.
As Beckham moved behind me, I felt something against me, something hardening. Something growing bigger and bigger.
Before the song was over, Beckham was fully hard and pressing up against my ass.
I didn’t miss a beat. I rocked my hips back and forth, dipping and pushing back as the song perfectly transitioned into a booty-twerking anthem. It was the perfect cover for me to push back on Beckham and get him even harder. At one point, I got so into it that I dropped my hands to the floor and started really showing him all my twerking skills.
I could feel his thick cock throb. If I stepped away from him, I knew that the bulge would probably even grab J.Lo’s attention.
