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Beck glanced over at us and smirked before turning back to the screen.
“Jonah?”
“Sorry, I was checking out the Merch. Ryan did some amazing things with disturbing puppets and the term pretty girl. These are awesome.”
“Damn, I want to see.”
Beck smoothed the hair away from Astrid’s face, then tucked it behind her ear. He leaned in to kiss her lips, then pressed his forehead to hers. “I don’t deserve you, Pretty Girl. This, all of this, it’s too much.”
“It’s not,” she quietly responded.
“Hmm.” His fingers fluttered down the column of her neck as he moved his head to the other side. Whatever he was doing, her eyes closed, and her lips parted. Her small huff of breath letting me know exactly how good she felt.
My dick hardened just watching them together.
It was like a replay of that day we napped together all over again, but this time it was different. This time I could touch her and had the right too, just like Beck did.
“Jonah? You there?” Thatcher huffed.
“You’ll have to see later.” I clicked the end button as Beck moved his head so he could catch my eye. He smirked, then went back to kissing her lips.
He was doing this on purpose.
I was hot from indignation, and molten from desire.
“You deserve a reward, don’t you think?” She made a noncommittal sound, but she seemed so lost to the way Beck touched her, I wasn’t sure she comprehended what he was saying. “She should be rewarded, right Jonah?”
Grinding my teeth, I curled my hands into fists over the back of the couch. I wanted to worship her. When we’d made love, it had been everything I hoped it would be.
But doing this with Beck? Would she want both of us at the same time? Would it change our dynamic that I had just started sliding into? Did I want to do this with my brother?
“Stop thinking,” Beck whispered against her cheek as he moved the laptop to the coffee table and pulled her over to straddle his lap.
Was he talking to her? To me?
Whoever it was directed at, it pushed me out of my head. When she opened her eyes, they were foggy with lust as she stared up at me, waiting.
Right? She was waiting for me.
Beck was right, I needed to stop thinking. My girl, and yes, my brother, were in the moment, and I wanted to be in the moment with them.
“Want to help me with this shirt?” Beck asked as he rubbed his palms up her thighs.
She was still in her clothes from school. It would have been easy if she’d been in pajamas already, but she was in linen pants and a flowing blouse. Such a quirky girl, nothing like those other thirsty bitches who wore skintight clothes all the time.
There was nothing wrong with what they wore, but I loved that Astrid walked to her own drum.
My chest pressed into the back of Beck’s head as I slipped my hands under her shirt. I traced my fingers up her sides, eliciting a shiver as I worked her shirt off.
Her hair snagged in a button and I freed it before tossing the shirt off to the side. We could clean up later.
Taking her face in both hands, I brushed my lips over hers, running my tongue over her top lip before pushing inside her mouth, massaging her own pink, sweet tongue.
For a second, it was like it was just us, then she pulled back, breathing hard, gripping the tops of Beck’s shoulders as he rolled his hips under her.
“Where?” She gasped, grinding down on him.
“Right here.” He gently pushed her back so he could whip his own shirt over his head.
