And I craved more.
My body shuddered at the thought of what was about to happen. It had been—God—yearssince the last time I’d been with someone. Not since Matt. That was two books ago.
Might as well have been an entire lifetime.
I turned the lock the other way, and in a beat the doorknob twisted downward. Beckett shut the door behind him and locked it.
“Jesus, Mel,” he said.
I reached for him, splayed my palms on either side of his rugged jaw, and pulled my lips into his. “This okay?” I breathed between kisses.
“Mm hmm,” he hummed. “But I can’t, you know,” he exhaled. “Not here.”
“Wait. What?”
“Iwantto. But I—I mean—ahh,” he groaned, as I began working on his neck with my tongue. I slid my hands down until they landed firmly on his angled hips. So perfectly solid. I dug my fingers in. “Hang on,” he swallowed. He placed his hands on top of mine and squeezed. I looked up at him. “How drunk are you?”
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “I’m not drunk. This isn’t that.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to regret anything. Ever. Not with me.”
“I swear, Beckett. I know what I’m doing.”
“Then listen to me. I want this. I want this so bad, you can’t even imagine. But I don’t want our first time to be in some seedy bathroom in a random hotel casino.”
“What difference does it make?” I asked.
“Seriously? It makes all the difference in the world,” he replied. “I think you’re incredible—”
“So then show me,” I said, licking my bottom lip, then sliding it between my teeth.
“Fine,” he relented. “I will. But we’re not making love here. Not like this.”
A lump formed in my throat. “You said, ‘making love.’”
He lowered his voice and narrowed his eyes at me. “I know exactly what I said.”
Beckett looked at me like a starved cheetah, all carved muscle and voracious need. With our mouths suctioned together, he effortlessly lifted me up and placed me down gently on the sink counter. I wrapped my legs around him, just like I had in the water, only this time even closer and with more ease because I didn’t have to balance myself. He slid his throbbing erection against me, allowing me to feel every inch of his length against my rapidly dampening panties. My sundress sat loosely around me on the sink’s edge as I dug my nails into his back, savoring the taste of his tongue against mine, the warmth of his lips against my lips, then on my cheek,then my ear, then my neck. He traced a finger down my clavicle and further between my breasts. “This okay?” he whispered.
“Mmm,” I consented. “More.”
Beckett slid his hand down into my sundress then and cupped my breast under the lace of my bra. “God,” I heard him whimper. “Still good?” he asked, pushing my shoulder straps down and lifting it out of the underwire cup.
“Uh huh,” I replied, weakly. I was tingly everywhere, my libido silently begging for him to place his mouth on me. He rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger and it immediately stiffened at the touch.
“You are the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen,” he panted, lowering his head.
My hands fumbled through his hair, down his back, around to his stomach. “I want to feel you,” I said. “Let me. Please.”
“Mm mm,” he denied me. “I’m already too close. You’ll make a mess of me.”
“Please,” I begged.
“You first,” he replied.
“What do you mean?”
He placed my breast back into my bra and kissed his way back up to my face. His hand, now free, snaked down the side of my body to my hip and slid up my thigh, beneath my dress. At the hem of my lace underwear, he again sought consent. “May I?”
