Page 131 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 1

But I was still done with his bullshit. I closed in on him, rising to my toes so that I would tower an inch above this brat. “You’re not getting it, are you? I’m not listening to you. You don’t hold any power over me, Beckett. And do you know why? Because you drove me to this point. Your relentless teasing and your snide little comments…” I shook my head. “You made me snap, Beckett, and I’m not taking orders from God Almighty anymore, let alone Captain Tantrum. I’m going now because I can.”

White rage spilled over his face as he bared his pearly teeth. His ears were turning red, his chest was heaving faster, and his fists closed like he would stop me from leaving by any means necessary.

It was all clear then. He was a control freak. He didn’t care either way, but only wanted to control me. So long as he was in charge of me, everything was fine. I tightened my fists as anger at this realization erupted inside of me. “Try to stop me, Beckett. Make my day.”

The explosion came from a blind spot. Had I had the time to really consider all outcomes, I would have expected Beckett to tackle me or to press his hand against the door. I would have expected him to say something horrible and ruin my evening that way. I even would have expected an eye roll and a surrender. But after so many days of acting like I was just a stranger in passing, I didn’t expect him to press his chest against mine. I didn’t see his swiftness coming. It made me jump and hit the door with my back, leaving me trapped between the only exit and this psycho fuckboy with some horribly suppressed desires.

Beckett’s mouth smashed against mine with such carelessness that I feared the impact would have split my lip. I wasn’t sure if the heat that swept me was Beckett’s or my own. It filled my head and made me dizzy.

I heard a distinct whimper between us, but it took me a heartbeat to realize it was my own.

Beckett’s lips parted, his kiss growing softer as he held me roughly against the door. His bare skin made my fingertips tingle when I touched the sides of his torso.

He thrust one leg between mine, his thigh gently pressing against my crotch. He wasn’t kidding. This…was more than just a confused touch of lips on lips. His right hand reached along my neck to hold my jaw as he sucked the soul out of my mouth. His left hand touched my right hip and slipped under my shirt. He felt every curve along the lower side of my torso, our limbs tangling, and sighs merging from one mouth to the other.

The fluttery sensation filled my chest as a fever rocked my entire body. I sweltered in the heat my own skin radiated.

And no matter how much respite we got from not barking at each other for one delightful moment, I couldn’t let the fucker just take what he wanted.

When Beckett dragged my lower lip between his teeth, I found a semblance of resolve and pushed him away. “What are you…?”

Beckett stepped back and wiped our kisses off his lips with the back of his hand. For a moment, I expected him to apologize. I should have known better. “Can’t you just shut up, Jones?”

“What?” I applied all my frustrations to that one syllable.

“Words keep failing us, Caden. Just…shut up for once.” There was that dazzling spark of mischief in his eyes when he spoke these words. One corner of his lips dragged up into a lopsided grin, and he waited. Suddenly, Beckett Partridge was an example of godly patience.

His pouty lips were stretched thin. His drying hair was an unruly mess of floppy locks. His cheeks were touched with pink.

I took him in and scanned every detail of his body, buying myself time to figure this out. But the truth was, an infinite meditative trance wouldn’t have brought me an inch closer to an answer. And when my gaze dropped low enough to see the thick outline of his erection pitching a tent from his sweatpants, I knew thinking was a lost cause.

I swallowed far more audibly than I’d intended. My chest trembled while a storm of emotions rocked me. Every nerve-ending I had was on fire. This tingling that flooded my body soon morphed into pleasure aches. Sudden warmth spread outward from my groin and I felt myself relax. “Okay,” I whispered. “No more talking.”

Beckett closed the distance between us again, one hand rising to hold me by my throat.

I slapped it away, catching his wrist, and then tugged him into my hold. If he wanted to play rough with me, he’d receive the same treatment he gave. It was the best kind of fun, especially if it meant I got to slap Beckett around with no hard feelings.

Weeks of sexual frustration and years of hate came together in my chest. Their only target was the hot fucker in front of me. I wasn’t sure he knew what he was getting into. I wasn’t sure he’d ever done this before. Perhaps, in secret, in hotel rooms such as this, but I had no way of knowing. No more talking. No more words.

I held him closer, one hand on the back of his head, fist closing around his unkempt hair. My other hand moved to his armpit, then dragged down the side of his rib cage. When I kissed him, it was a vengeful, hateful kiss. It was the crescendo of an eternity of competition. He thought he could kiss roughly, but he was about to find out just how wrong he had been.

I spun us around easily as Beckett fumbled in the new reality of being controlled rather than in charge. He bumped against the door with his whole body, breath bursting out of his lungs. He inhaled just before I leaned in to claim what was mine. He’d had no right to the kisses he’d stolen from me and I wanted them back with a loan shark’s interest.

As we battled for dominance, grappling one another’s arms, shoulders, hips, and throats, the heat that I had never found between us blazed hot enough to melt all the ice of our ordinary encounters. In the back of my mind, I was desperate to ask him what the hell this was. I needed to know when the fuckboy he had always been became a slut for a guy’s hard kisses. And not just any guy.

Just as badly, I needed to know when my desires spread wide enough to let Beckett be an option.

The way my cock throbbed when I thrust my hips forward and rubbed my crotch against his told me he was more than just an option. He was pressing way too many buttons for this to be a safe game.

“Take that fucking thing off before I rip it,” he growled over my lips, grunting and gasping under my pressure.

My lips were bruised. They tingled as I dragged them over his mouth, letting my tongue dip between his teeth and touch the tip of his. I swiped one hand between us and unbuttoned my shirt halfway down. Beckett’s hands quickly explored my muscular torso as I pulled back to finish undressing. But the trace of reason still remained within me. And I hated it.

If only it had died when we agreed to stop talking, I could have my way with my enemy and not feel a bit of guilt. He wanted it, after all. He was desperate for it. He pulsed all over, shaking with impatience. I was sure that if I touched his crotch now, he would spill like a virgin and beg me to go again.

With my hands on the middle of his torso, holding a button on the verge of a decision, I stepped back.

“What is it, now?” Beckett rasped. His voice was sore with lust.