Thankfully Beck picks up on my tone, because the next moment he lurches forward and wraps his hand around my hair, tilting my head back and stealing my breath with a voracious kiss.
There’s nothing tentative about this kiss, no teasing in the way Beck’s mouth dominates mine, only pure passion as the rest of the world fades away and I surrender to my best friend.
I gasp as Beck scoops me up with one arm and positions me on the table, chess pieces clattering to the floor, our game now blissfully forgotten. Beck presses against me and my legs wrap around his waist as he kisses me like a creature who’s been starved for too long. I meet every stroke of his tongue with one of mine, eagerly returning every bit of fervent emotion he’s pouring into me, telling Beck with my body that I feel it as much as he does.
Beck’s hands dip below my blouse and we part only long enough for him to strip it off me before our mouths meet again, devouring each other with even more urgency. My hands move hurriedly to the buttons of his shirt, my fingers fumbling to undo them as Beck presses wet kisses along my jaw and down my neck.
My pussy is soaked, and I’m on the verge of undoing his pants, ready to beg him for his cock—or cocks—right here in the kitchen, but then Beck pauses to sniff the air and groans, his forehead flopping against my shoulder.
For a split second I feel self-conscious enough that maybe he’s scenting me, but I quickly shove those intrusive thoughts far away, because surely he’d be happy to know how muchhe’s turning me on and won’t be disgusted by how I smell. Or maybe—
Riiiiing.
The oven timer goes off and Beck lets out another forlorn groan as his arms tighten around my waist. “That’s really unfortunate timing.”
“You knew it was going to go off?” I ask, still breathless where I sit in only my flimsy camisole, trailing my fingers through Beck’s silky strands.
Beck nods against my shoulder. “I could smell the bread is done, so I knew it was going to go off soon.”
“Oh.” Am I disappointed that we had to stop right when things were getting good? If I’m being honest with myself, yes. But maybe it’s for a good reason. We’re meant to take things slow, and whatever was happening here just now, was anything but slow.
It was hot. To the nth degree hot.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt… this,” Beck says, finally making eye contact with me, my heart melting at the true disappointment in his blue gaze. “I need to take the loaves out of the oven or else they’ll burn and no one will get bread tomorrow, and I won’t have dinner for you either.”
“For us,” I correct, stroking a lock of fallen hair off Beck’s forehead.
“Us,” Beck repeats softly, placing the lightest of kisses against my lips before settling me back on my chair and heading over to the oven to take out the freshly baked spinach-artichoke stuffed rolls.
I knew I was attracted to Beck, knew I liked him for his sweet heart and quirky personality, but seeing this new side of him is going to take me a minute to process. And a lot of self-control to withstand tonight, or however long until the time is right.
No matter what, I have to end up on the couch tonight or we’ll just be repeating all of this again, or more.
