by Skye Jordan
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
His fingers slid over her again, and Eden’s breath caught.
“Focus, Eden. Tell me what you thought about me.”
“I…thought about kissing you.” He continued to stroke her, slowly, intimately, moving a little deeper with each pass. Damn, she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. “About…undressing you. Touching you. Tasting you. Fucking you.”
She didn’t even know what she was saying. His fingers created tingles and pressure and heat that made Eden rabid.
“What about going down on you?” he asked in a rough whisper. “Did you imagine my mouth on you, my tongue inside you?” His eyes fell closed in a look of pure pleasure. His jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared. The sight shot fire through Eden’s veins. “Mmm, because if we were alone, I’d wrap your thighs around my head and eat you until you begged for relief.”
“Holy shit…” she breathed. “Beck…”
She was too breathless to finish his name. How in the hell had he taken her to the edge of orgasm in, what? Five minutes? Ten minutes? With nothing but dirty talk and touching? His fingers pushed inside, just a little, but he stretched her, and the burn was deliciously breathtaking.
“God…” Her body coiled tighter and tighter. Pleasure spiraled higher and higher.
“Tell me what you want, Eden. I’ll deliver.”
She was overwhelmed with desire. The kind that made her forget everything else. The kind that made people stupid. The kind she hadn’t felt in so long, she hadn’t believed herself capable of feeling it ever again.
“I don’t… I can’t… Never felt anything so good.”
“You haven’t felt my mouth on you yet. You haven’t felt me filling you yet. You haven’t felt me driving into you yet. You haven’t felt me making you come over and over and over yet.”
Unable to find or form words, Eden whimpered.
“There are so many amazing things I want to make you feel.”
“Yes,” was all she managed to breathe. “God, yes.” She was using all her willpower to keep herself still. She was already light years beyond her comfort zone. She’d never even considered doing anything this wild. “Where?”
“I think we should start right here.” He lifted his head, pressed his forehead to hers, and murmured, “You’re so close, it wouldn’t take but another minute to send you into the clouds. Then you can cross ‘finger fucked to perfection in a crowded bar’ off your bucket list.”
When a half laugh stuttered out of her, Beckett leaned in and kissed her, long and slow. His fingers pushed deep. Pressure spread through Eden’s pussy. Pleasure tightened her stomach. Then he adjusted and pushed even deeper, until his hand pressed against her body and his thumb lay over her clit. A sound rolled from Eden’s throat into Beckett’s mouth. A sound of wild erotic pleasure.
As Beckett continued to kiss her with the mastery of Casanova, his fingers moved against the front wall of her pussy, and his thumb rubbed her clit. One move might have led her slowly to the edge of orgasm and tipped her over, but both, while he fucked her mouth with his, completely swamped her with more sensation, more pleasure, more excitement than she’d ever known. And all Eden could do was hold on to him and hope like hell she didn’t completely shame herself in public. But this pleasure was so intense and so essential in the moment, she didn’t even care enough to worry about it.
When Eden broke their kiss to catch her breath, Beckett slipped his other hand beneath her hair, pulled her head to his shoulder and her face to his neck. She needed to lift and rock and writhe, but Beckett’s forearm determinedly held her still while he delivered the slowest, deepest, most minimal fingering Eden had ever known. One she would never have guessed could have delivered such all-encompassing pleasure.
“Beckett…” She panted, her mind fragmented. “Please…”
“Does it feel good?” he murmured at her ear, his free hand clasped on the back of her neck in a possessive, controlling gesture that, strangely, didn’t bother her. “Do you like my fingers inside you?”
She choked out a sound. “Beckett…”
She was so close, floating out of orgasm range where all she could think about was reaching the peak, opening up, and receiving that lightning bolt of ecstasy. It had been so long. And she was so hungry.
“I love hearing my name in that breathy voice,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to hear you when you’re grinding against my mouth. When my cock is filling you. When I’m pounding inside you.”
The erotic images he created in her head only drove her higher, faster. “Beck…”
“I want to see you in bed, naked, sweating, panting, begging,” he rasped in her ear, “free to writhe and scream.”
She whimpered. “Need to come…”
“Patience.” He smoothed his hand over her hair, and closed it on the back of her neck again. “There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours as long as you want me tonight. And tonight is all about you, Eden. Let go. Relax. This is only the pleasure I can deliver with the tips of my fingers. There’s so much more waiting for you.”
The awesomeness of his generosity seemed unreal, even in Eden’s altered state. But she’d have to think about that later, because she was floating on a plateau beyond the reach of the release she’d grown rabid for.
“You’re so ready,” he growled in her ear, then added pressure somewhere inside her that pushed her that last step toward the cliff edge.
“Ah…”
And he pushed her again.
Before she got a sound out, Beckett pulled her face into his neck. The orgasm slammed through her in one hard quake, turning all her muscles rigid and shooting intense electrical pulses of pleasure over every nerve. Her cries came muffled against his skin. Lights burst against her closed lids. And shiver after shiver rocked through her, each leaving her a little more spent than the one before.
In Beckett’s safe hold, the release probably appeared controlled and subdued, more like an emotional meltdown than the orgasm of the decade. But inside, every cell of her body swelled with light before popping and spilling ecstasy through her until she finally settled into a feathery lightness that felt a lot like pure joy.
8
Beckett had managed to steal Eden out of the bar without anyone from the team giving him a hard time. If they’d noticed, he’d catch shit tomorrow. But he’d take as much shit as they dished out and he’d smile through it all too.
He stopped on the corner where a group of pedestrians waited at a red light. She was already leaning into him, but he pulled her into the circle of his arms and tugged the collar of her jacket closed against the DC wind. “Are you warm?”
She smiled up at him. The same smile she’d been wearing since she’d floated back to earth after that orgasm at the bar, a sort of dazed grin, like she had a secret. “I don’t think I’ll ever be cold again.” She curled her fingers into the front of his overcoat. “And thinking about getting you naked is keeping me all toasty. Skin on skin,” she said, her voice throaty. “God, I can’t wait.”
Her hair blew across her face, and Beckett lifted his hand to push it away. Only when it was too late to stop did he realize he’d probably moved too fast. But she didn’t startle or avoid his touch. And that was great progress in his opinion.
Though making her orgasm in the midst of a crowd of dozens was progress too. On a whole different level. The thought of getting her back to his apartment to see what other intimate levels they could achieve tonight was making his cock throb and his mouth water.
“You floored me in there tonight,” he said honestly. “I can’t remember the last time a woman blew me away like you did.”
“Hmm.” She laughed softly. “I think you were the one who blew me away.” She pushed up on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled his head down to kiss him. And, man, he loved the way she kissed.
With 90 percent of his blood currently in his cock, he didn’t know exactly why he loved
it so much. But he didn’t care either. And he couldn’t wait to get her back to his apartment and start getting to know every intimate inch of her.
“Why’d you turn down the other girls?” she asked, flipping Beckett’s mind upside down.
“What?”
“The two pretty girls who came up to you earlier. You hooked them up with two of your teammates.”
“Oh, right. Yeah. They weren’t my type.” And he really didn’t want to go into why. He didn’t see any good coming out of that conversation at this moment. He cupped her jaw and stroked her cheek. “Where are you from, Eden Kennedy?”
“California.”
“Whoa. You’re pretty far from home.”
“That’s where I’m from, it’s not my home. This is my home for now.”
“For now?”
She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t know where life’s going to be taking me.”
“Do you still have family there?”
“Yes, but my family isn’t like yours. We’re not close.”
“Hmm. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “I’ve never known any different.”
“Neither have I, but I could imagine.” He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “I don’t know what I’d do without my family.”
Her hands slipped under his jacket and roamed his abdomen. “I’m glad you have them.”
“God, you’re sweet,” he said for what had to be the fifth time tonight. “Why hasn’t some smart guy snapped you up?”
She grinned. “I move too fast. Every minute of my day is filled.” She stretched up and kissed his jaw. “This is one of the rare times I give myself a little break.”
“I feel doubly lucky now.” His eyes closed as her mouth moved down his neck and tingles followed. “Don’t you get days off work?”
“Mmm-hmm. But I’m in school those days.” She pulled back and lifted a hand to his chin, running her thumb over his lips. “All my spare time is spent studying.”
He frowned, thinking back. “Did I miss something? I don’t remember anything about school.”
Her gaze lifted to his, then flicked past his shoulder. “It’s green.” They started across the street. “I’m in paramedic school. Between that and work, I’m usually running on empty.”
“Really. What school?” He was still trying to envision what that kind of schedule would look like, when they approached his building. He tugged his wallet from his pocket and held it in front of the electronic pad above the door handle.
“It’s through Johns Hopkins.”
Beckett was staring at her with more realizations and a loose jaw when the lock clicked over. “Hopkins. Jeez. Didn’t I see an article about them in Newsweek? One of the top five best hospitals in the nation or something?”
Her grin shone with pride. “Third best It changes a little every year, but Johns has been in the top five for over two decades.”
“Go big or go home, girl.” Beckett pulled the door open for her. “Just when I didn’t think you could impress me any more, you do.”
“Thanks.” Eden stepped into the warm, still marble foyer and sighed. “Oh, it feels good in here.” She shook her hair back and combed her fingers through the windblown tangles, staring at the three ornate crystal chandeliers that lit the foyer. “I love this place. These chandeliers make me think of ballrooms.”
Beckett shrugged his overcoat off his shoulders. “You’ve been in this building before? Did I miss that conversation too?”
She grinned at him. “After two years running ambulance in DC, I swear I’ve been in almost every building in the city.”
“Ahhh.” He smiled. “Right.” He folded his coat over his arm, then stepped behind her and slipped hers off. He lowered his chin to her shoulder and murmured, “I forget you’ve got a master key to the most powerful city in the nation.”
She started laughing. “A slight overstatement.”
He curved an arm around her waist and dragged her back against him. She moved willingly, fluidly, molding her body to his. The way her ass rubbed his erection stole his breath and added another punch of heat to his cock. Beckett pressed his mouth to her neck and groaned. Eden’s laughter ebbed into a moan as she rocked against him. Excitement, shock, lust… They spiraled together and pooled between his legs.
“God, Eden…” He released her, took her hand, and started for the elevators. “Let’s get upstairs while I can still walk.”
He tapped the Up arrow, and one of the elevators immediately dinged. He stepped in, turned, and dragged her into his arms, kissing her hard. As soon as the elevator doors closed, Beckett lifted her, and Eden wrapped her thighs around his waist. He turned, pressed her against a wall, and sank in. Her softness cradled his cock, and the groan she let roll into his mouth reached all the way to Beckett’s chest and squeezed. One arm tightened around his neck; the other hand drove into his hair. She tilted her head, opened wider, and tasted him deeper, the same way he wanted to fuck her.
Beckett broke the kiss to pull in air and reposition his hands on her ass, his mouth on her neck. “You are one blazing-hot puck.”
She pulled back with a silly sort of frown crinkling her forehead, and Beckett realized he’d used a euphemism saved for the locker room. “Do you mean fuck?”
“Same difference.” The elevator doors opened. He was breathless, and after the game he’d played, his body ached. But no one could have paid him enough to put her down, and he walked the short distance to his door.
“How is that the same difference?” she asked.
He sighed, knowing she’d never let it go. “On the ice, when we’re closing in on a goal and our team controls the puck, when we’re right there, passing it between each other, smokin’ the other team, knowing we’re going to score and that the goal is going to be extra sweet because the other team is dogging us but we still hammer the net, we call that a hot puck. The guys and I made it up.”
When he reached his door, her eyes were glazed, her expression hot, her smile a little wicked. “So it’s like a sure thing but way sexier.”
He grinned. “I love the way you get me.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
He turned, put his ass—and his wallet—in proximity to the electronic pad, and his door clicked open.
Eden laughed. “That was slick. You must do this a lot.”
“Yep,” he admitted, teasing her as he pushed inside his apartment, “Every time I carry in groceries or my duffel bag or—”
“Or me.” She kissed him, long and deep and wet. “Take me to your bed, Mr. Croft, because I have a feeling I’m not the only hot puck in this apartment.”
He hesitated, stupefied a moment that she didn’t want to look around. Didn’t want to marvel over his apartment. He hadn’t brought a woman here since he’d taken custody of Lily, but before that, his hookups had been ridiculously impressed with this place. Eden, on the other hand, didn’t even glance around. She brought her mouth back to his and kissed him like she needed him to make it through the night.
Beckett broke the kiss when he almost walked into a wall. “Damn,” he told her. “You’re making me dizzy.”
“Sure”—she pressed kisses to his forehead, his temple, his jaw—“it’s all my fault.”
“I’m so glad we agree on that.”
“I want to eat you.” Her teeth closed on the skin near his ear, shooting tingles down his neck. “I want to kiss and lick and eat every inch of you.”
“Jesus. Are you trying to kill me?” He paused to press a hand to the doorframe of his bedroom, already breathing hard. He pulled back and looked her in the eye. “You do realize I’ve already wrung myself out in one hell of a game tonight.”
“I was wondering when that cocky side of yours was going to show up.”
“Maybe I’m hoping you’ll get tough with me again.”
“That could be arranged.” She brought both hands to his tie and deftly unknotted the silk. Something that often took
Beckett several minutes to accomplish. “I could get creative with this if I had to—never underestimate the ingenuity of an emergency medical professional. What do you think about that, Mr. Croft?” She let the tie hang loose and started on the buttons of his shirt. “About having your hands secured to your bedframe with your tie, your body all mine to do with as I please?”
A wild, erotic thrill whipped up inside him. “I think that would be a first for me. I also think that would blow my mind in all kinds of new ways. But I’m afraid I don’t get out a lot and doubt I’d last very long. So in the interest of getting the most out of the small amount of time we have, I’d opt for the flipside of that idea.”
She yanked his shirt from his pants and unfastened the last button, then pressed both her hands to his belly and guided him back toward his bed. When his legs hit the footboard, Eden slid her hands up his chest, grabbed his tie with one hand, and used the other to give him a gentle push. Beckett let himself fall to a sit.
The take-charge Kennedy was back, but this time she was joined by the softer, more sensual Eden. The combination created a unique kind of sexual frenzy inside Beckett. Then Eden pressed one knee to the mattress and smiled down at him. A smile that said I can’t wait to get my hands on you and turned Beckett inside out.
She slipped the tie around her own neck, released the ends, and lowered to a crouch between his legs. Beckett’s breath caught, but she only unlaced his shoes and pulled them off. When she stood again, she lifted her chin toward the top of the bed. “Scoot back.”
Instead, he slipped his hands beneath her dress and wrapped his hands around the backs of her thighs, then slid them upward along her smooth, warm, taut skin to the curve of her ass and squeezed.
A sound of desire rolled through his throat, and Eden’s eyes fell closed as a wash of pleasure spilled over her face. He fisted the dress at her hips and dragged it upward, pushing at her arms when she held them down with a murmur of complaint.
He broke the kiss, reminding her, “You said you had a surprise for me.”
With a little smile, she let him draw the dress over her head and he dropped it on the bed beside him as he scoured every gorgeous inch of her.
