by James Tate
My eyes widened and my jaw dropped a little. “You think Graeme sent his daughter to fuck you, so you’d vote in favor of Huntley getting a seat on Delta? Why is everything about sex with you people?”
“You people?” Dylan repeated, cocking a brow at me, and I glared back.
“You know what I mean,” I snapped, waving my hand at the monitors. “Everything in this fucked up world is sex and money. Does nothing else matter?”
“Power,” Beck replied, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip as he continued staring at me.
I glowered. “So Katelyn’s been hitting on you at school. I can’t even say I’m surprised.”
Surprised, no. Angry like I could claw her damn eyes out of her perfect face, yes. What kind of trampy bitch lets her father prostitute her out to win a fucking vote? Oh yeah. The same psychotic bitch who paid some creeps to gang rape me.
“You’re not mad?” Beck asked, cocking his head to the side with curiosity.
From the speakers, we heard the blonde woman wailing her climax, punctuated with “I’m coming, I’m coming!” just in case we weren’t already well aware. Sadly, the senator still looked to be going strong, so I refocused on Beck.
“No, why would I be?”
His brows raised just a fraction. “If I found out some guy had been trying to seduce you, I’d have ripped his head off with my bare hands.”
The thought should have made me mad. It was altogether way too possessive and macho. So why then did my core clench with excitement and butterflies spasm in my gut?
“That’s because you’re insecure, Beck,” I snapped, and Dylan covered his mouth with his hand to smother a laugh.
Beck shot his best friend a glare and opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Senator Green’s voice over the speakers, telling his blonde to “Suck it like the greedy little whore you are, Lilianne. That’s right, milk my dick. Swallow. My. Load.” Those last three words were said with such effort, followed by an unmistakable gagging sound that I didn’t need to look at the monitor to know he was done.
Thank fuck.
“Sounds like they’re finished,” Dylan snickered and bravely looked up at the screens. “We should be out of here soon. Is that file transfer finished?”
Suddenly, the boys were all business again, Beck checking that he had the relevant recordings copied to his flash drive, then ejecting it from the system.
“I’ll just need to erase any footage showing us creeping around the office,” he muttered, tapping away at the keyboard again. “I’ll need to leave this newest one, though, or he’ll know someone’s been here.”
Conversation ceased while he worked, and I watched the screen as Senator Green and his actress put their clothes back on and left the office.
“We’re clear,” I announced once the lights had been turned off and the door closed.
“I told the boys to return to the party a while ago,” Dylan advised us. “All five of us missing for that long was going to raise suspicions.”
“Good thinking,” Beck replied then frowned at the two of us. “You two go ahead, I’ll erase the footage of you leaving.”
“Well then how will you get out?” I countered, letting Dylan help me up from the floor.
Beck gave me a smug smirk and winked. “Don’t underestimate my skills, Butterfly.”
Rolling my eyes, I decided not to argue any further and followed Dylan out of the hidden room and through the dark office. It smelled of sex and sweat, and I couldn’t totally decide if I was thoroughly disgusted or a little bit turned on. Both? Maybe.
“Come on.” Dylan tugged on my hand after checking down the hall in both directions. We had no look outs now that Jasper and Evan had gone back to the party, so we needed to haul ass out of the restricted area.
We made it all the way down the darkened corridor and had just stepped over the “no access” rope and rounded the corner when we heard voices coming our way.
Panicked, I grabbed Dylan and did the first thing I could think of.
I kissed him.
19
“Hey! You two!” The sharp voice of the smartly suited security guard saw me jumping out of Dylan’s embrace like I’d been electrocuted. “What are you two doing up here, this is off limits to guests.”
“Oh, uh, sorry,” I stammered, feeling my cheeks blazing. “We were just, uh...”
“Yeah, we’re well aware of what you were doing.” One of the guards smirked. “Go and make out in a bathroom like everyone else, this is a restricted access area.”
I flicked my gaze to Dylan, but he was just gaping at me like I’d hit his reset button, so I turned my very best contrite smile to the guards. “Yes, sorry, we didn’t mean to ... uh ... we were just looking for...”
As I stumbled over my words, playing the part of a drunk girl caught making out with some guy, the guard’s attention shifted over my shoulder just a second before Beck’s hands slipped around my waist.
“There you are, baby,” he said, turning me in his grip and crushing his lips to mine. For a second, time stopped and all that mattered was the way Beck moved his mouth, the way he forced his way past my teeth and claimed my damn soul. That was, until someone cleared their throat and I squeaked in fright.
Beck—of course—was much slower to release me than Dylan had been, and when he did it was only to glare at the guards. His hands still clasped my waist tightly, and when I spun around to face our company, I could feel his hard length pressed against my back.
“Can we help you, gentlemen?” he demanded of the guards in an ice cold voice.
The one who’d scolded me was just gaping in confusion, so the other one cleared his throat. “Uh, you’re in a restricted area, Mr. Beckett. Would you mind taking this party elsewhere?”
There was a long, crazy awkward pause, then Beck huffed a sound of irritation. “Maybe you should signpost these things better. Come on.” He shifted me so I was tucked into his side with his arm around my shoulders then brushed past the guards with Dylan tight on his other side.
When we were well clear of the office wing—and the guards—Beck stopped abruptly and whirled around, pinning me to the wall.
“Beck—” Dylan started to say, but cut short when Beck’s death glare landed on him.
“Go back to the party, Dylan,” he said with no outward showing of emotion, but it was very clearly a command and there was zero room for arguments in his tone. “Here, take this.” He held out the flash drive, which Dylan took with a reluctant glance in my direction. “Now fuck off. Riley and I need to chat.”
Beck’s steely glare turned back to me, and I caught Dylan mouthing “sorry” at me from over his broad shoulder.
I tightened my jaw and raised my chin to meet Beck’s glare. He was trying to intimidate me, and I’d be damned if I let him.
“Did you have something to say?” I asked him in what was supposed to be a sassy, sarcastic way. Instead it came out as a provocative whisper, and I wholeheartedly blamed our front row seats to the senator’s sex show.
He was in no hurry to reply to me, letting the tension build between us until my nerves were wound tighter than a violin bow.
“Riley,” he finally said in a voice like sin. “Did I just see you kissing Dylan?”
Dread rippled through me, and I sucked in a sharp breath to defend myself. But shit! How could I backtrack out of this one?
“Before you say anything,” he continued, in that dangerous, seductive tone, “I’ll remind you that although we may be fighting right now, I have in no way relinquished my claim on you. And I have no intention of ever doing so. You belong to me, Butterfly, and you fucking well know it.”
His caveman routine turned me right the fuck on, but it also got my back up. “Excuse me?” I demanded, letting my anger boil up and embracing it. “I don’t belong to anyone but myself, you misogynistic prick. I’m not a possession to own, and if I choose to kiss Dylan then that’s my fucking choice, Beck.” I practically growled his nick
name at him, stubbornly refusing to call him Sebastian like I had when we were on better terms.
The fact that I’d kissed Dylan to give us a plausible excuse for being where we weren’t supposed to be, well that was beside the point.
He glowered at my words, his jaw ticking with barely concealed fury. Sucking in a deep breath, he leaned in closer to me. His hands were braced on the wall either side of me, my back flat on the wallpaper, and his face was just inches from mine. I had nowhere to run to ... even if I wanted to.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Butterfly,” he whispered with dark promise, “I do own you.” He paused and leaned in closer still, until our lips were just a breath away. “Just like you own me.”
Blame it on the martini, the sex scene we’d all witness, or temporary insanity, but I totally lost control. At his whispered confession that I owned him, I closed the distance between us and kissed him with all the pent up anger and frustration of the past month.
Our tongues met, tangling together in a frenzy of emotion, our teeth clashing and our lips devouring. My hands found the back of his neck, gripping tight and demanding more as his body crushed me into the wall. Every inch of me was pressed to him as we drank each other in, and I moaned against his mouth.
Conflicting emotions swirled through me, fighting for supremacy but all I wanted was to pretend none of it existed. We had our issues—by God we had our issues—but just for a few minutes I wanted to forget all the betrayals and the pain and the goddamn infuriating control-freak bullshit. All I wanted, was to get lost in Sebastian Roman Beckett and deal with the rest later.
“Sebastian,” I groaned as he kissed down my neck, and he froze. “What?” I demanded, feeling panic flare at the sudden loss of contact.
“Say it again,” he ordered, his lips hovering over my skin. His breath was warm against my damp skin, and every exhale sent lightning bolts of sensation flickering through me.
A smile curved my lips, realizing what I’d just said. Fuck it, if that’s what he needed...
“Sebastian,” I breathed again.
This time, it was like a switch had been flipped. His mouth returned to mine, kissing me with bruising intensity as he lifted me clean off my feet and hitched my legs up around his waist. Thank fuck for the dramatic split in my dress, or that move would have surely ripped it. Not that I gave a shit, it would be worth it.
My eyes were closed, my entire existence consisting of Beck and nothing else so I barely even noticed when he moved with me in his arms, opening the door we had been stopped beside and walking us inside.
“That was convenient,” I murmured as he set me down on the bathroom vanity and leaned back to flick the lock on the door. He just shot me a cocky smirk, then reclaimed my mouth in yet another demanding kiss that set my whole body on fire.
My legs spread, and I used my heels hooked around Beck to pull him closer to me. Ever since he’d kissed me in front of the guards—fuck, okay, well before that—I’d been craving his touch, and I was beyond the point of waiting.
“Fuck, Butterfly,” he groaned, grinding his hardness against me and biting down on the fleshy part of my neck. “You drive me insane.”
I let out a small laugh as my hands found his belt and made quick work of opening it. “The feeling is entirely mutual, Sebastian Beckett.” I bit my lip as my hand found the velvety smooth skin of his cock and wrapped around the length of it.
He hissed as my fist stroked him up and down, but it was only the briefest moment until he was back in control. There was an urgency hanging over us, and I knew he could feel it too. Not only had we already been gone long enough to arouse suspicion, but we both knew our shit hadn’t been resolved. How long until one of us—probably me—decided this was an awful mistake and called it all off?
“Baby,” he breathed, his hand shoving the length of my dress out of the way and hooking his fingers in the lace of my panties, pulling them aside. “I missed you.” His fingers sank inside me, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing quick circles until I was quivering with need.
“Shut up,” I told him. “This is not make up sex. It’s just sex.”
He snorted, but didn’t argue. “Birth control?”
“On it and all good,” I groaned back, not wanting him to stop for a second.
He withdrew his fingers and quickly replaced them with his rigid cock. In one harsh thrust, he was fully inside me, and my pussy spasmed around him. It hadn’t been all that difficult, I was already so wet before we’d even entered the bathroom, and he damn well knew it.
Whispered curses slipped from my lips as he began to move, fucking me with that same angry intensity that had started all of this. Desperate for more, wanting him deeper, I tilted my hips forward and crossed my ankles behind him.
“Fuck yes,” I encouraged. “Harder, Sebastian. Harder.” My words dissolved into a wanton moan, and he gave me what I wanted, pounding me so hard my head bounced against the mirror behind me.
His hand snaked down between us, tweaking at my clit until I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I screamed my release as my pussy clenched and pulsed, locking his throbbing cock in a vice grip as I came. Hard.
“Shit, Riley,” he panted, placing another open mouthed kiss against my neck as I rode out my orgasm, my legs shaking and heart racing. “You kill me, baby.” Seconds later, his pelvis slammed into mine a few more times as he came.
For a long moment, we just ... remained frozen. My head rested against the mirror and Beck’s sweaty forehead pressed to my neck. He was still sheathed inside me, and for a really, really long minute I never wanted that to change.
But, reality, that bitch, was waiting right there to slam back down on me and remind me why I’d been pushing Beck away in the first place.
He must have sensed me withdrawing again, because he shifted back and adjusted his clothing. I did the same, grabbing some tissues from beside the basin to wipe myself up as much as I could before righting my panties and letting my skirt fall back over my legs. Not that my pathetic, soaking wet lace thong would do much of anything to stop the wetness of Beck’s cum sliding down my thighs, but it was better than nothing.
“We should get back,” I murmured, avoiding his gaze as I tidied my hair in the mirror. He said nothing, so I flicked the lock to leave.
“Butterfly,” he said, grabbing my wrist and halting my very literal attempt to flee whatever had just passed between us. Not the sex—that part was pretty obvious—it was all the emotional baggage I was running from. “We should talk.”
“Mm hmm,” I agreed. “We should. But now isn’t the time.”
He couldn’t disagree with me on that, so after a moment he just released my wrist and let me rush out of the bathroom and back to the party.
It was a futile effort. I knew this. But just for a little longer, I wanted to run from all those heavy, dark, painful emotions. I wasn’t ready to bare my soul to him, even if he was.
Tonight of all nights, I was grateful for that small favor.
20
Beck
After the gala, an exhausted Riley drifted off in seconds, and I watched her like the fucking obsessed creeper I was, long after the tense lines of her face smoothed out. My hands tangled gently in her hair before I could stop myself; I needed to touch her. At all times. It was a need, that for the first time, I could not control. We’d fucked tonight and after so long, all that did, was make me crave her harder. There was something beyond intoxicating about Riley. It had been there from the first time I’d seen her, that defiant, stunningly beautiful face as she schooled us on chicks in car racing.
Riley was effortlessly sexy without even trying.
I’d known I was screwed that first night, but like the dumb fuck I was, I kept trying to fight the inevitable.
A noise outside our room caught my attention, and a darkness settled in my veins as I slowly slipped from the bed, taking care not to wake her.
She made a few whimpering noises, but when I slid my pillow under h
er arms, she buried her face in it and calmed down.
My chest went tight as I tried not to examine how that made me feel.
I heard his voice again, and I realized that it was time now for me to set a few things straight. Before I ended up having to destroy one of the only people in the world who meant anything to me.
Dylan was waiting on the edge of darkness, and I wondered who he’d been talking to, but then I heard Evan singing his fucking anime songs in the shower. He had zero ability to hold a tune, but that never stopped him.
It made me wish I had a guitar in my hands; I needed to soothe some of the dark anger in my soul, and music was one of the only things that worked for me.
Music and Riley.
“We need to talk,” I said quietly to Dylan, a low undercurrent of pissed off leaking into my words.
He just nodded and gestured for us to head into the soundproof music room that I used at times when I had to play at midnight and didn’t want to disturb the guys. Maybe he hoped I’d be less violent around my prized possessions.
“You waited up for me?” I asked without inflection. “Knew this little chat was coming, hey?”
Dylan shrugged. “It’s Riley,” he said as way of explanation.
Her name leaving his lips had my hands clenched into fists at my side. Watching that brief kiss between them had brought out the worst kind of possessive bastard in me.
“She kissed me,” Dylan said straight up. “But … I wasn’t complaining.”
A derisive snort left me. “I noticed.”
There was a beat of silence, where both of us sized each other up. Dylan sort of deflated after that. “I’m not gonna lie, Riley … she fucks something up inside of me. In a good way. Sometimes when she stares at me with those blue as fuck eyes, all I can think about is touching her.”
Part of me wanted to punch the shit out of him. But a larger part understood. Riley had a way about her, and it didn’t surprise me that my best friend felt the same way as me.
“She’s mine,” I said, letting those words slide across my tongue, dark and dangerous. “You’re my brother, Dylan, but if it comes down to it, I will kick your fucking ass if you step over the line with her.”
