Page 148 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 1

A murmur of laughter passed around the tables, but nobody paid much attention to us. Though playful at times, Beckett kept a safe shield around himself. An occasional rub of his leg against mine told me he wanted me, but then a snarky comment for everyone to hear felt like a punch to my guts.

It didn’t bother me. Not really.

But it reminded me how shaky the ground between us was. He wanted my body and I wanted his. But he feared those around us catching a scent. I wouldn’t be thrilled to be caught screwing my enemy, either, but Beckett seemed more concerned with it. He distanced himself from me if I crossed an imaginary line and threatened his precious heterosexuality.

That night, when he came to my room, I showed him exactly how straight he was. Every ounce of frustration that I kept to myself through the night poured out of me when we undressed in my shower. I held him against the tiles, hot water running down his back, and filled his straight ass until he begged me to come.

Even if I wouldn’t admit it out loud just to tease him, I agreed with Beckett that bottoming was not a form of submission. If anything, he was in control when I let my frustrations out on him. That was the space that gave me the necessary safety when our roles switched. He worked through his annoyances, related to me or not, by pushing my body to the limit. I always knew that a word from me would stop him. That was the knowledge that lent us power to each in turn.

When we dried and dressed back in my room, Backett was still panting. “My ass hurts,” he grumbled.

I reeled him in with a finger hooked inside his T-shirt. “You asked for it.”

He kissed my lips so freely that it was almost an insult. He could never do this on the other side of my door. But I kissed him back, reminding myself what this whole arrangement was. “It was…liberating,” Beckett admitted. He yawned after a moment. “I should get back to my room.”

Much like Riley and Cam had once done, I went to the door and peered outside. When nobody was there, Beckett slipped into the cover of darkness, his footsteps receding down the hall.

I lay in my bed while sleep evaded me. My sexual desires were fulfilled for the evening, but the anticipation of tomorrow’s events kept popping into my head. Would he be in the mood for a gentle, passionate play of intimacy? Or would he hold a grudge over his abused hole? And beyond these thoughts, a pit of darkness existed. I couldn’t — or wouldn’t, I wasn’t sure which it was — cross it. Too many things existed on the other side. Too many things that could keep me awake until dawn. And yet, I couldn’t sleep anyhow.

It might have been minutes or hours, but I finally gave up all attempts to shut my eyes and relax. I wondered what Sawyer was up to, probably sleeping over at Noah’s again. I wondered where Riley was. In truth, I mentally checked all the people I could talk to, even if I didn’t know what I wanted to talk about. But one stood quietly, patient as I ignored him until my attention went in his direction. Beckett.

I considered Beckett again.

These eleven or twelve days were all fun and games, but they awakened a foreign idea in me. A notion so ridiculous that I almost glossed over it. But I made myself think. What did Beckett feel? I had always had an easy time answering that question in the past. Back when things were simpler, I could safely assume Beckett gloated. It didn’t matter why. He had always gloated in my mind.

Now, though, things were different even if we pretended they were the same. There was more to him than I had let myself see. From the first day we had met, I had felt that pull of attraction. Only an instant later, Beckett had squashed it, acting like I was the most irrelevant fly buzzing around his head. It had been easy to see him in that light since then.

Me: Are you awake?

I sent the message before I knew it. I regretted it for a minute, but then the unexpected reply came.

Spawn of Satan: Yeah, why? Horny again?

Me: In your dreams.

Spawn of Satan: You know it.

I couldn’t help myself. I smiled despite my best efforts.

Me: Meet outside in five?

No reply came for a while. I didn’t check how long it had been, but I did start to believe he had fallen asleep. When my phone buzzed, I jerked.

Spawn of Satan: Alright. I hid a little note stating I was out with you in case I never returned. Only murders happen this late in the night.

Me: Oh, well, you just ruined my plans.

Grinning to myself, I hopped out of bed and changed into warmer clothes. Then, as I made my way downstairs, I was all alone. The porch light was on outside, but I hurried to the basement and grabbed a six-pack from the mini-fridge.

When I snuck out the front door, Beckett stood on the front lawn. He wore his black jacket with an oversized hood rimmed with faux fur. His breath steamed when he exhaled, but he didn’t tremble.

I lifted the six-pack. “For your trouble.”

He snorted at the sight of it and partially turned away from me, taking a step as soon as I reached him. He knew I didn’t just invite him to sit out here, but to walk off the nerves that kept me awake. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he said somberly. “You’ll get me drunk and have your way with me. But it takes more to buy me.”

I struggled, pulled a can out of the pack, and then handed it to him. “Beckett, darling, I can have your ass like this.” I snapped my fingers in his face.

He shot me a cheeky smirk. “Prove it.”