She licked her lips and he knew he had her. There were other reasons she’d come to him tonight, but she’d come for what he could give her, too. She needed this the same way he did, no matter how bad they might be for each other.
Finally, she nodded. “Don’t make me wait long, or I’ll take care of myself.” She turned and walked out of the kitchen, completely at ease with her near-nakedness—her soft laugh floating over her shoulder. “Then what use would I have for you?”
Samara considered her options as she came through the bedroom door. She wanted to be in a position to really make an impression when Beckett walked in. He’d won the first round in the kitchen through the sole fact that he’d surprised the hell out of her. She’d expected…She wasn’t sure. To maintain control. To not be affected by the gentle understanding in his dark eyes when he’d asked about her day.
None of that reasoning held up past the moment when he’d commanded her into the room and her entire body clenched in anticipation. His rough tone and blunt words didn’t promise her sex—they promised animal-like fucking on the basest of levels.
Exactly what I need—to get out of my head for a little while.
She climbed onto the bed and leaned back against the headboard. The bed was positioned so that Beckett would walk through the door and see her in profile, so she wanted to make that first look one for the record books. Stripping completely was what he’d expect, so she went in a different direction. Samara let her bra straps fall from her shoulders, but kept it on. She slid her panties down to just past her knees.
She ran her fingers through her hair, and checked her reflection in the mirror across from the bed. She looked like she’d just been fucked within an inch of her life, as if they were so hot for each other they hadn’t bothered to strip completely. Perfect. Then there was no time left.
Beckett stood in the doorway, his dark eyes drinking her in. She held her breath as his gaze dragged over her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes and back again. He gave her legs the same amount of time he gave her breasts, and he paused on her face the longest of all. “I could get used to this.”
“Don’t.” She shook her head. “I didn’t come here to make promises to you and nothing’s really changed as far as you and I are concerned.” So many other things have changed, though. She gulped in a breath and focused on him. “I need this, Beckett. I need you. If you’re going to demand things I can’t give you, then maybe I should leave.”
“Not fucking likely.” He circled the bed, taking her in from every angle. “Grab the headboard.”
Samara liked sex as much as the next person, but she had a clear set of rules—mainly that she was in control at all times. She didn’t need to be blatant about the requirement because most men weren’t paying enough attention to realize that they had never even been allowed in the driver’s seat.
Not Beckett.
He never asked for her submission—he demanded it. More dangerously, right now he was demanding that she trust him. It’s just sex. It doesn’t have to apply to any other aspect of life.
She didn’t believe it for a second.
But Samara still raised her hands over her head and gripped the thick wood of the headboard. With her back bowed, every part of her was on display, and Beckett could do whatever he wanted to her as long as she kept her hands where they were. The knowledge made her shake. She pressed her lips together, torn between closing her legs and…She didn’t know.
Beckett didn’t give her the opportunity to think too much. He undid his slacks and stepped out of them in a smooth move. She’d seen him naked before, but it was either through a haze of tequila or in the midst of their frantic fucking on his desk. Not like this, where she could look her fill even as he did. Muscles corded his legs the same way they did the rest of his body, a deceptive strength that his jeans or slacks always masked. So much about Beckett was deceptive strength.
If Lydia had her way, he’d lose everything.
“Beckett—”
“No.” He crawled onto the bed. “You were right—we’re not going there. Not yet. Not like this. Right now, I’m going to taste you until you beg for my cock in every way that I’m willing to give it to you. When we’re too exhausted to move, you’re going to curl up against my side and sleep with me. In the morning, we’ll sit down over breakfast and have a conversation.”
He was asking for a whole lot more than sex. Panic beat frantic wings against the inside of her throat. It took two tries to speak past the feeling. “I’m not sleeping with you.” She’d thought maybe they’d have sex, talk, and she’d—what? Do the walk of shame back to her place in the middle of the night?
That’s exactly what I thought was going to happen.
“Yes, you are. This is a full package experience.” He knelt between her feet and traced the lace of her panties where they were taut between her shins. “You need this, Samara. Let me give it to you.”
She stared at him, this tortured god of a man who had no business making her feel things after all this time. She met his gaze, her stomach taking a dive at the conflicting emotions tangled up and on display for her. Beckett wanted her as much as she wanted him, but he carried his past around like Atlas carried the world. That truth was there in the lines bracketing his mouth, in the faint circles beneath his eyes, in the creases at the
