“I watched my father use control to break people,” I say. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to be the opposite of that. So when I want someone this much, when I want to put my hands on him and call him mine…” I swallow. “I second-guess every instinct.”
His head tilts just enough that I catch the edge of his profile.His voice is quieter when he speaks. “You think you hurt me by wanting me?”
“I think I hurt you by kissing you and then making you doubt why,” I say. “I never,neverwanted you to think you were an assignment. Or leverage. Or some puzzle for me to solve for Jaxon. You’re not.”
Beckett exhales shakily. “You are a boneheaded dick sometimes.”
“I know.” I dip my head, letting my mouth brush his temple, simple and soft. “I’m trying not to be.”
He turns then, inside my arms instead of out of them, looking up at me from too close. His eyes are wet and angry and stubborn and gorgeous.
His throat works as he swallows. “You like control.”
“With someone who chooses it,” I say. “Someone who can tell me to stop and knows I will. Who knows that if I ever say ‘mine,’ it’s about taking care of him, not owning him.”
The tension between us tightens, shifts—anger cooling into something hotter, sharper, more fragile.
“Beckett,” I murmur. “If you can’t trust that yet, I get it. If you walk out, I’ll deal. But don’t think for a second any of this was about using you.”
Finally, his fingers curl in my shirt. “Then don’t run again,” he says.
“Never. But I’ll worship your body at my pace. I decide how you come and when.” I suck his skin. “You’ll go to your knees for me simply because I ask you to. I’m possessive. Like that little stunt you pulled at the carnival? There will definitely be consequences for that. Do you think you can handle that?”
Do I think I can handle that?
Pfft! Fuck ya, I can handle that. Now, if I could just get my words to work. With the feel of Dom’s hard body pressed up against mine, it’s making it hella difficult.
All I get out is “Mmmfffpn!”That doesn’t sound coherent at all.
I can’t let him distract me. I came over here ready to give him hell. To tell him he needs to stop treating me with kid gloves.
Do I hope the night ends with dicks touching? Yes, I very much do.
Ugh, mad Beckett, you’re supposed to be mad!
“I came over here to yell at you.” Finally words.
“Which is rightfully deserved. Right now, my mind is racing with ways I could apologize to you.”
He really needs to stop suckingthatspot. “Do you ahh… have any ideas?”
“Mmmm, oh, I’ve got plenty of ideas. Have you ever given up control, Beckett?”
I shake my head… “Show me.”
He grips me a little tighter with a growl.
“Wait,” I say,pulling away.
He lifts his hands like I’ve got a weapon; I huff and gently pull them down to his sides.
“Before we do this,” I say. “I owe you an apology. Using Lucas to make you jealous was shitty, and I’m sorry. I was pissed at you, and I handled it like a brat instead of an adult.”
He grumbles, “I still don’t like him.”
A laugh slips out of me. “Yeah, well, you might have to. He’s thinking about moving here. And he is a good guy, even if his wardrobe screams bougie villain.”
I step in closer, sliding my arms around his waist. For a second, I just… feel him. The solid warmth of muscles I want to snuggle into, the way my head tucks perfectly into the curve of his neck. I press a soft kiss against his pulse and feel it jump under my mouth.
