“Fuck...” I was all but begging him.
Fuck me, Beck.
My underwear and top disappeared in a heartbeat, Beck managing to both tear and drag them off me in the same instance, then he kept me elevated with one hand, while his other slipped up my thigh and grazed across my pussy.
“Butterfly,” Beck said, and I somehow managed to pry an eye open and try to focus on words.
“What— Fuck!” I cried out as his fingers slid inside of me, first one and then another, The thumb on his other hand, the one holding me, shifted so it was pressing against my ass, circling in teasing strokes.
“You belong to me, Riley Jameson. Say the fucking words.”
I shook my head, and his thumb pressed harder, and I was about to fucking combust at the feeling of his fingers stroking me.
“You’re not going to win, Sebastian,” I said, unsuccessfully keeping the moan from my words. “I will submit to no man.”
He stopped moving his hands and slowly dragged them away from my aching center, and I tried really hard not to punch him.
My head shot up so I could meet his eyes. “Don’t use my body against me,” I said, huffing every word out in forced anger. He watched me for many long moments, still holding me like I weighed nothing, hot water beating down on us as we waged this dominance war between us.
I caved a little. “Please, Beck.”
His jaw twitched and he didn’t look happy. “Don’t call me Beck.”
It was the very thing I used to distance myself from the over-fucking-whelming emotions he created in me. And he knew it.
“I love you, Sebastian Roman Beckett,” I said softly, “but that’s not going to be enough for you to control me. If that’s the sort of chick you want, you’re with the wrong fucking person.”
I wiggled down, and for a beat, as his hands tightened on my thighs, I didn’t think he’d let me go. But then he did.
Stepping out of the shower, I was wet—really fucking wet—and pissed off, but I knew I’d done the right thing. Beck was strong, a leader ... someone used to getting his own way no matter what, and I couldn’t let him take whatever sliver of independence I had left. If he knew—truly knew—how much he affected me, then it would all be over for me.
“Just remember, Butterfly,” Beck said to my retreating back, his words soft but there was no mistaking the darkness underlying them. “Dante is the one who has lied to you for half your life. Consider this when you take his side.”
I wanted to scream and yell and cry and punch walls—I was starting to act like Beck in that sense. Maybe it was because I partly knew he was right, but I also was loyal to the fucking bone. I would not give up on my best friend. Not yet. And Beck was going to have to learn to live with that or … I wouldn’t even consider theorin this situation because I was pretty sure, despite all of my strong independent stance, I couldn’t live without Beck.
I took a few minutes to get dressed, then made my way out into my kitchen. I could not function today without coffee. Hopefully, we hadn’t used it all last night because it was the only way I was waking up even though it was— Holy shit, 12:30 p.m.
We’d wasted another day and that was not okay with me.
My movements grew faster as I started to get all of the coffee goodness together, pausing at the doorbell.
That’s odd.
None of the guys would ring the doorbell, and since we’d taken over the entire building, there shouldn’t have been anyone in here. Deliveries even went downstairs.
I was just about at the door when Beck appeared like the silent ninja he was, stepping between me and the door, knocking back my hand that had been reaching out to open it.
“You didn’t even check the peephole,” he muttered, his jaw clenched. “You’re going to be the death of me, Butterfly.”
Even pissed at each other, he still cared. Fucker.
Beck lowered his head and peered out for a second before he pulled back, an odd expression on his face. I noticed the gun in his hand, and when he gestured for me to get behind him, I didn’t argue. Something was bothering him, and that meant whoever was out there was not a friend.
He opened the door slowly, his eyes assessing every inch like there was a bomb or tripwire that would blow us up if he opened it too quickly. I tried my best to peek around him, but he was too fucking huge, his broad shoulders mostly blocking the opening.
When the door was finally open, he didn’t say a word, and I wondered if he was doing a silent stare off with the person. Then he stepped aside.
Nobody?
