Beck hummed a contented sound as he resumed his motions, but didn’t try and push the issue any further. “Not yet, anyway,” he murmured. His hand snaked around underneath me and played my clit like his damn guitar, sending me over the edge into a screaming climax that was loud enough to wake the dead.
24
The next time I woke, the room was washed in dull light, and it was too warm. I kicked the blanket off, and pulled myself out of bed, desperate to pee. When I was done, I looked around the huge room, and a wave of loneliness tugged at my center. I already missed waking up with Beck.
Deciding that I needed a little exercise, I left his room and strolled along the hall to go downstairs.
I heard them before I saw them, laughter and the clinking of plates. When that snort-laugh of Jasper’s registered, my feet picked up the pace, and I all but burst into the kitchen.
Four sets of eyes turned to me, and I didn’t even care that I was only dressed in Beck’s shirt, with a sports bra and panties underneath. The Henley was long enough to cover me to mid-thigh anyway. I barely caught Beck’s resigned glare before Evan jumped to his feet.
“Spare!” he shouted.
He swept me into his arms, and I relaxed against him, relieved to see all of the guys together in one room. Mostly uninjured. “Been worried about you,” he murmured close to my ear.
I gave him an extra squeeze, and then wiggled to get down. Jasper was next, and while he moved a little gingerly, he didn’t hesitate to lift me as well, his strong arms solid around my back. “I saw your race,” he said when he dropped me to the ground. “You drive like a fucking wet dream, baby girl.”
I rolled my eyes at him before giving him a gentle shove.
“Your car is a wet dream, I just got to go along for the ride.”
He groaned and closed his eyes. “Don’t say wet dream, now all I can think about is—”
“Jasper,” Beck said, sounding calm, but there was a warning underneath that one word.
Jasper just winked at me, and led me to the table. Dylan pulled a chair out for me, and dropped a kiss on my cheek when I sat. “You’re looking much better,” he said, relief in his voice. “You got to stop scaring us like that. I haven’t slept for days.”
Before I could reply to Dylan, a hand landed on my thigh, and I found Beck’s warm eyes. “You okay, Butterfly?” he asked softly, and for a second I wondered if I was actually going to burst into flames.
My entire body felt warm, including my chest—which was from more than just Beck.
These four made me feel… too much. And Beck made me feel everything.
“I’m fine, just sorry that I worried you all,” I said, turning to include everyone. “I honestly didn’t plan on getting myself almost kidnapped and knocked out.”
Expressions hardened, and some of the calm bled from the room. Now I was seeing the guys from the forest, the ones who were trained to survive, who could kill without remorse.
Didn’t make me feel any different.
Wanting to change the mood, I looked at the food on their plates, and Jasper laughed. “Hungry?” he drawled.
I all but drooled at the pancakes, bacon, and toast.
“Yes! Feed me,” I begged.
Beck lifted his hand from my leg, and I tried not to feel bereft. He moved to the warming plate in his impressive kitchen and started fixing me a plate. Dylan was up then too, and he placed the largest mug I’d ever seen in front of me before filling it with coffee.
“We picked that one out especially for you,” he said with a wink.
Don’t cry.I seriously wanted to bawl my fucking eyes out at how sweet they could be. Sweet psychos.
“A mug of my very own,” I said, noticing that all of the other guys had specific coffee mugs for them.
Jasper’s was yellow, like his Lambo, and it said “Pussy Magnet” on it. Evan’s was smaller, because he preferred a single shot of espresso, and it said “I like it hot.” Dylan had a plain black cup, and Beck had a dark blue one. His said “King can Checkmate” and I wondered if that was in reference to our chess discussion, or if he’d always thought the king ruled the board.
And now I had my own. One with no words, but a white chess piece… a queen.
“You’re one of us now, Riles,” Dylan told me. “You get your own mug.”
