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His eyes glitter, dangerous and predatory, and the room is dead silent but for the scrape of his boots against the floor. With every step my heart is racing faster, my breath hovering uselessly in the center of my chest. He moves until he is pressed against me, until the edge of the desk is biting into my ass.
I don’t know where the air in the room has gone. I brace myself, my hands curling around the desk’s edge, and he leans down, his lips brushing my ear. “Is that why you were about to let Pritchard put his mouth all over you?Jealousy?I haven’t slept with anyone but you since the first time we were together, but I guess it’s safe to assume that if I had, you’d want to take her place.”
His tongue flickers, his breath hot in my ear, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing my skirt around my waist.
“No, I—”
He pulls the strap of my tank off my shoulder, sinking his teeth into my skin. His hand slides inside my bra to palm a single tight nipple.
“You’re sure?” he asks, his mouth near my ear. He tears my thong in half as if it’s made of paper, and his fingers slide between my legs to find me embarrassingly wet. “Because you don’t seem sure.”
When he starts to withdraw his fingers, I arch against his hand, silently begging him for more. I expect him to laugh or say something smug, but instead he reaches somewhere behind me, tearing a foil packet with his teeth while he wrenches his jeans open.
He rolls the condom on and steps close. My thighs spread as if he’s demanded it, and with a single, sudden thrust, he’s buried all the way inside me. It’s so much, so good, that I collapse backward to my forearms.
“Oh God,” I groan, wrapping my legs around him. Even my forearms can’t support me. I fall flat on my back, knocking over the pencils in the process.
His hands grip my hips tight as he thrusts, his nostrils flaring, his eyes never leaving my face. Yes, he’s still angry, but there’s something more there too, something I’ve seen a thousand times when he’s looked at me:want,dark and wrong and lethal, want he’s contained for too long. He pulls out and thrusts back in, dragging the air from my chest. And then he does it again, harder. Again, harder still, with his thumb circling my clit.
I close my eyes, but he grabs my chin. “No.Watch. I want you to remember who made you come.”
I obey as if I’m in a stupor, and the mere sight of him—his eyes glittering dangerously, his hair falling forward—is too much. I’ve imagined his face just like this, his focus on me, his mouth ajar and breathing heavy, too many times. Heat races up my thighs and down my spine, and my core clenches tight. “I’m—”
He winces. “Don’t.Don’t. I want it to last.”
I can’t help it. Everything inside me pulls inward, tight and sharp, as the world goes black. It’s his name and no one else’s in my head as it happens.
A torrent of profanity pours from his mouth and he comes, gripping my hips so tightly there will be bruises in the morning.
I remain exactly where I am when he slides out, rolls the condom off, and tosses it into the trash like this is something he’s done every day of his life, which probably isn’t all that far from the truth.
He turns away from me, buttoning up his pants. And I no longer know how I feel about anything, so I grab my purse, push my skirt down, and walk straight out the door.
26
BECK
The staff is already putting chairs up on the tables and the crowd has mostly cleared when I return to the bar. Pritchard is finally gone, which is in his best interest. I’d better not see him in here again.
“You want to tell me what just happened?” Liam asks.
“Not really,” I reply, going to the register to close the last few tabs. “Thanks for taking over.”
“She shouldn’t have been back here, dude,” he says softly, his brow furrowed.
Liam is the least likely of all my friends to offer a lecture, so if I’m hearing it from him, I’d be hearinghowlsof outrage from Caleb and Harrison. “It was an emergency. It won’t happen again.”
He opens the dishwasher and starts loading glasses, though he hasn’t worked here in a decade. “She’s a messed-up girl, Beck. I know she’s been through a lot, but nothing good can come of this.”
Yeah. I know that too. I’ve only ever wanted her, and she still wants her fucking husband. Nothing good isalreadycoming of this.
I let the staff go home though the place isn’t in perfect shape. I’ll come in early tomorrow to tie up any loose ends, but right now, I’ve just got to get the hell out.
I climb on my bike, longing for an extended, reckless drive into the hills like the one I took last night, hoping to sort my shit out. Except my shit was still waiting at the cabin for me, and it’ll be waiting tonight too, so I might as well get it over with.
She’s watching TV when I walk in. I have no idea whether to expect silence or a projectile whipped toward me. Anything’s possible where Kate’s concerned.
She glances over her shoulder. “You’re back early.”
