He hadn’t actually had a good look at Beckett’s naked arse, as Beckett had been on top of him, or behind him, but if he closed his eyes right now—Arden closed them, and didn’t hold back the smile that came with the memory—he could relive the sensation of it in perfect detail.
The way Beckett’s dense, muscled flesh had bunched and shifted beneath Arden’s hands. The supple resilience of his buttocks as Arden dug in his fingers and hauled him closer, faster.
The glorious roundedshape.
Arden had honestly had no idea until he’d had Beckett’s arse in his hands that backsides were anything other than practical cushions to sit upon. He really hadn’t.
But Beckett’s arse…it was…
He sighed happily.
It was lovely. And Jack’s? Would it feel the same as Beckett’s, or would it be harder? Softer?
…squishier?
He sighed again, restlessly, barely believing he was sitting here fantasising aboutbuttocks, of all things.
But one day, when he was more confident with the whole physical business, maybe he could convince Jack and Beckett to stand side by side, naked? Perhaps they’d pose for him?
Perhaps not side by side, but back to back.
That way, their lovely arses wouldtouch.
They’d besquashedagainst each other, and…
No. He fidgeted. That was ridiculous, and not at all the sort of thing he should be lounging around pondering.
Especially, he thought once he’d blinked his eyes open, when he had company.
His eyes widened.
Especially when that company was Beckett, the man whose arse Arden was lounging around, pondering.
Pondering for a lot longer than Arden had even realised, considering that Beckett had come down from the house, across the huge lawn, and right up to Arden’s tree without Arden noticing, stopping with the tips of his boots mere inches from Arden’s crossed legs.
He dropped into an easy squat, cocked his head to glance down at the sketchbook, and looked back up with a smile. He leaned in and said, “I’ve got a beauty mark on my bum. Left cheek. Right there.” He tapped Arden’s sketch with a forefinger.
Arden choked and tried to slam the book closed, but Beckett flattened his hand on the page, so all Arden did was slam the book on his hand.
Beckett didn’t flinch.
“Sorry. Sorry!” Arden opened the book and tried to tug it away and snap it shut but Beckett kept his hand flat on it, and kept smiling. Oh. This was mortifying. “It’s…it’s…it’s not…”
“Not my arse?”
“No!”
“You sure?” He tilted his head consideringly. “Looks like it.”
“Well. It’s. It could be anyone’s. It’s just a sketch. Of…of an…”
“Arse.”
“Yes.” Arden couldn’t have stopped himself from returning Beckett’s teasing smile if he’d tried. He tugged the book away and set it on his lap. “Um…hello. You’re home. Is Jack with you?”
“Nah. He’s still in Sevennis. I decided to come and keep an eye on you. He’ll be here in a day or two.”
“Oh.”
