Page 141 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 1

I gave him my most innocent smile. “Nah, I’m just concerned for your butt.”

“Oh, that? We’ll see.” He shrugged and hopped out of the bed. His hands felt his big cheeks briefly as he moved toward me. “Either way, I’ll return the favor, boy toy.”

I chuckled, taking it in good humor. “You must be delusional if you think it goes both ways.”

Beckett took my hand and I nearly jerked back, but allowed him to. It was oddly personal to have him hold it like that. But he was casual about it, looking into my eyes instead. “Why not? I know you bottomed before.”

I remembered mentioning it, but I was surprised he did, too. “It’s different with you,” I explained while he slowly lifted my hand toward his lips. “There’s a…balance of power…” My breaths grew shallow when he sucked my index finger into his mouth. “…I can’t let you…be in charge…”

He sucked my finger thoroughly, then pulled it out of his mouth. He yanked my hand behind his back. I knew what he was doing. It was a power move and I was too weak to resist. “Weird how I don’t see it that way,” he said softly, keeping a sharp gaze on my face while dragging my wet finger between his cheeks and pressing it against his hole. I didn’t need much urging when he pushed it harder. My finger stiffened and slipped inside of him. It was only an inch, but it proved his point. He didn’t look at it through power and control. And it was, perhaps, the most adult thing he had ever allowed me to see about himself.

I let my finger stay still inside of him for a few heartbeats. He’d only winced once, a little, when I probed him.

The message was loud and clear. Topping or bottoming, Beckett considered himself in control.

When he squeezed his hole a little, I let my finger slide out of him. It remained on his rim, massaging him gently. “You really did a number on it. I barely felt that,” he said and grinned partially, then nudged me away.

Unable to breathe, I stood where I was while Beckett passed me and headed to the bathroom. I turned after him a heartbeat later. He paused at the door and waited for whatever I was about to say. I couldn’t wait to hear it, too. Words were swelling in me, but they never reached my consciousness.

Carefully, I licked my lips and inhaled. “It wasn’t just a one-time thing, huh?”

He shrugged with one round shoulder. “Not if you don’t want it to be, Jones. Why stop while it’s fun?”

Because it’s dangerous. Because we’re on the same team. Because we hate each other… I couldn’t say any of those things. In fact, I couldn’t speak. His little power play left me gasping for air and fighting the urge to follow him into the shower. I could have him all over again if only he wiggled his ass one too many times. I could have him against the tiles, gagging on my fingers and clenched around my base.

But Beckett’s grin widened. “Don’t overthink it.” And with that, he slipped behind the door and let the water run in the sink.

I dressed and searched for coffee on the ground floor. Luckily for me, Bridgette was up and getting the dining room ready. A pot of fresh coffee steamed as the cold air filled the hall through open windows.

“Good morning, Mr. Jones,” she greeted me with a tinge of wariness as if I was about to complain. “You’re up early.” She methodically passed by the furthest wall and shut all the windows that had allowed some freshness into the dining room. Tables had folded cloths on them and trays with plates, cups, and cutlery, all waiting to be set properly. A cart nearby was full of last night’s tablecloths. “Was your bed comfortable?”

I wasn’t sure if she was teasing me for the fuss I had made last night. “It was comfortable.” And sturdy as hell, judging by what it had survived. I didn’t say that last part because it was too intimate and I wouldn’t want to give her the satisfaction of things ending happily after I had been forced to share a room with Beckett. He was my little secret. My guilty pleasure. “Could I grab a cup of coffee?”

“By all means,” Bridgette said, the wariness melting away to give room to her hospitality. “Don’t mind me. I only need five more minutes.”

“Don’t rush it,” I said. “I’ll take it up.” I reached the coffee maker and poured two mugs full of coffee, then realized she noticed as much. Now, she would definitely know I wasn’t in a murdering mood when it came to my roommate like I had been last night.

I thanked her as I hurried away and upstairs. Beckett was, as ever, partially dressed, like his entire life depended on triggering my erections. He wore his sweatpants, damn him, but his feet were bare, as was his torso. His hair was wet and his brown eyes were clear like he had been awake for half a day.

“You love me. You really love me.” His sarcastic comment was brushed aside as I handed him the mug. He sipped it and exhaled with satisfaction that rivaled the one from last night.

I carried my mug to the balcony because the silence in the room made me more uncomfortable than I wanted to admit. Part of me wanted to forget the coffee and lick and slurp all over Beckett’s torso. Another part screamed at my stupidity for letting myself get tangled in this mess.

What’s the mess, though? I asked myself, knowing it was my semi-hard dick influencing me. I indulged. The mess was in Beckett being the most obnoxious person I had ever crossed paths with. Smug, self-centered, and privileged beyond reason, he was the root of all my current problems. However, he was also the most passionate and exciting lover I had ever had. And while my experience wasn’t as limited as it had been a year ago, I was still fresh enough to make mistakes and be infatuated with the wrong person.

Like Beckett Partridge.

Like sexy, seductive, confident Beckett Goddamn Partridge.

Shuffling feet pulled my attention from my drifting thoughts. Beckett stepped out in house slippers, wearing a partially zipped-up hoodie over his bare torso. His coffee steamed as he held the mug with one hand and brought it to his lips.

I watched him, but he acted like I wasn’t even there. If I were being petty, I would have accused him of ignoring me. After last night, my perception of him broadened just enough to let me consider the possibility he wanted to be outside without disturbing me. The thought made me cock my head.

“What?” he asked, a trace of curiosity touching his voice, the corners of his lips stretching into a faint memory of a smile.

“Nothing.” I wished I knew how to soften my tone with him. Even now, I sounded suspicious and clipped. “Just…thinking.” That was marginally better.

He nodded without intruding any further. His attention drifted to the great lake and the indistinguishable horizon. The bleakness of the morning was a bad omen to my athlete’s superstitions. I just didn’t know what it was about. Our game this afternoon or whatever happened next with Beckett and me.