I wonder what his hands would feel like on my hips.
The thought makes me…oh, God.
My whole body tightens — sudden and overwhelming — and I push back harder against Beckett, and his grip tightens on my hips, and he makes a low sound against my neck. I reach back and grip his thigh and pull him deeper, and the pressure crests and breaks all at once, my body shuddering through it while I bite down on my forearm to muffle the sound.
I don’t want him to stop.
My phone rings from the nightstand. It’s face down, so I ignore it, letting it ring. Beckett doesn’t seem to mind. But as soon as the call ends, it rings again directly after.
Beckett hits a spot, and I cry out, reaching for my phone.
I flip it over, and my body stills when I see Judge Ravenshaw’s contact.
Beckett keeps going, and I let the call go to voicemail. Two seconds later, the screen lights up again. It’s Judge Ravenshaw again. Horror floods through me. Did Cody die?
“Beck,” I warn, but he’s pounding into me so hard I can’t form the words.
“Come for me,” he whispers, thrusting into me harder.
My face falls into the pillow. He wipes the hair from my face and keeps the fast pace. Before I know it, he’s rubbing my clit and forcing my body to orgasm, even with the idea that Cody may have died just now.
The thought makes my body relax. Now I don’t have to worry. Beckett pulls out my orgasm, listening to my body. And then he comes shortly after.
We stay like that for a moment. Both breathing too hard. His forehead against my spine.
Then he presses his lips to my shoulder blade and rolls to the side, and I collapse onto the mattress. I feel intense guilt for what was in my head when I just orgasmed.
When I reach for my phone, it buzzes again.
“Shit,” I mutter.
I accept the call.
"Adela." Judge Ravenshaw's voice is careful. "I apologize for calling multiple times at this hour."
"It's okay," I say. My voice comes out steadier than it has any right to. "What's—"
"Cody is awake," he says. "He came around this afternoon. The surgery was successful, and he's stable." A pause. "He's been asking for you since he opened his eyes."
Everything stops.
Not gradually. All at once.
What?
Beckett feels it — the way my whole body goes from present to absent in a single second — and he lifts his head and looks at me, and I am staring at the ceiling with the phone against my ear and the judge's voice still going.
"Visiting hours begin at eight tomorrow," he's saying. "I know he would want to see you as soon as possible. He keeps—" His voice catches, just slightly, the first crack in the composure. "He keeps saying your name."
I don’t know what to say. What am I supposed to say? I thought he died, wished it even, and now… now…
“Adela? Are you there?”
Shit.I start crying.
"Yes, sorry. I will be there first thing tomorrow morning," I cry. "Send me the address and the room. I will be there."
I hang up, not hearing another word, Cody’s dad says.
