Stand & Deliver
Page 20
And stared at her. Drank her in. Not just her exposed sex, but everything. Every detail. An out-of-control beast leashed for a surreal moment before it feasted. His eyes locked on her. “Guide me in.”
Her choice. Even with what he wanted so close, he gave her one last out. A chance to run and hide behind the walls that had kept her safe for so very long. She stroked his thick length instead. Teased her fingertips along the underside of his tight sac and traced the vein that ran root to tip with her thumb. Swirling the pre-come she found there around the flared head, she held his blazing stare and slicked him through the wetness he’d created, mingling his essence with hers.
His fingers tightened on her knees and a low, delicious rumble resonated from his chest, vibrating from his skin to hers. Hip to hip. Sex to sex.
She notched him inside.
His nostrils flared and his face hardened, a prominent tic jumping at the back of his jaw. Standing eerily still, every delicious muscle was tensed and on prime display. Power waiting to be unleashed.
On her.
On binding them together.
“Do it.” She flexed her hips, nudging him deeper inside her.
His gaze dropped to their connection and his hands slid inward. “Beautiful.” He pinned her hips and sunk an inch deeper. “So goddamned beautiful.” Another inch. “Taking my cock.” Another. “Taking me.”
He thrust forward and buried himself to the hilt. Filling her. Claiming her with the sweetest stretch. He pounded into her. Rolled and bucked in a demanding rhythm to match her heart. Rode her as only an untamed animal could, driving her release higher and higher.
Sounds, scents and sensation were all that mattered. The slap of his hips against hers. The plundering stretch of his thick shaft, nothing between them but the heat and slick wetness they’d created. The heady musk of sweat, sex and man.
“Beckett...” It was the most she could manage, her mind too tangled and dazed from the sensual onslaught. Her muscles coiled and poised to take flight and her heart struggling to keep up. She gripped his forearms and held on for all she was worth.
“Take it.” He lifted her hips and angled his thrusts so his glans grazed just right, rolling his hips with each advance. “You wanna come, now you take it. Take it all.”
A cry ripped up her throat, the force of her release too wild to contain the ragged sound and shoving her from reality’s ledge into a soaring free fall. No boundaries. No fears. Just pure bliss crashing through her in a carnal wave so powerful her body bowed to meet it. Welcomed it with the greedy clasp of her sex around Beckett’s pistoning shaft and her legs pinioned around his waist.
And then she was up, her torso plastered against his, his arms banded at her back and shoulders and his growl rolling into her as he took her mouth. Claimed it as his cock jerked inside her, his hips grinding against hers as he filled her.
Amazing.
Two people, utterly free and yet bound. Separate parts connected by so much more than flesh. It was terrifying. Exhilarating even as it left the very heart of her exposed and vulnerable.
The rhythm of his hips eased. The hand manacled at the back of her neck loosened and swept down her spine. Soothing her. Grounding him.
She smiled and sighed into his neck, running her fingers through his hair with one hand and returning the calming contact along his back with the other. Funny, how fast she’d come to accept that part of him. That need for a tactile anchor. And it wasn’t a burden. Wasn’t something he expected or demanded. More a gift that fed her own soul and strengthened the bond they’d forged as friends for years. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait to let you show me Haven.”
He nuzzled the spot just below her ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about what we were doin’ at Brantley’s place.”
“Did you find anything?”
“Nothing.”
Hmmm. Still floating on the wild ride he’d given her, the singular thought was all her brain offered up. As if it couldn’t be bothered with details, plans or plots beyond the man who held her.
Holding her close, he put a knee to the edge of the bed, lifted them both and laid her out in the center, keeping their connection. In only moonlight, the black down comforter was more of a midnight cloud welcoming them into a secret place. For who knew how long, they simply lingered. His hips cradled between her thighs. Her fingertips dancing along his skin. His mouth and hands paying homage to every place he could reach.
His warm breath whispered across her shoulder where his lips lingered. “I think protocol dictates I get you cleaned up.”
“I think we get to set our own protocol.” She skimmed her fingers along his jawline and rolled her hips against his, savoring the feel of them together. “I’m not in any hurry.”
His gaze cut to hers and he grinned.
“Okay, I’m not in a hurry now.”
He braced one forearm beside her head and smoothed her hair away from her face, the levity in his expression giving way to one far more serious. “I need to tell you something else.”
So solemn. Open and yet pensive.
She smiled despite the tone he’d led with and tightened her legs around him. “I’m listening.”
He studied her, fingers stilling as he seemed to gather the right words. “When I want a job, I make it happen. Connections, outmaneuvering the competition, or outright undercutting them if I have to, but I make it happen.”
“Isn’t that what we all do?”
His lips twitched. “When I say undercut, I mean I’ve been known to do it dirty. Fair means or foul, so long as no one innocent gets hurt.”
She traced the thick chain that held his dog tags. “I think I figured out you’re comfortable with shades of gray the day you asked me to help set a dirty doctor up with the Feds. I didn’t have a problem with how you ran your business then any more than I do now.”
“What if I used that approach on your business?”
Her brain tried to connect what were probably obvious dots, but after the day she’d had and the lingering aftereffects of her tussle with Beckett, nothing lined up. “What’d you do?”
“Nothing yet.”
While he hadn’t emphasized it as such, there was no doubt in her mind yet was the key word. “But?”
He shrugged. “Axel found a thread to pull with Peter Trannell.”
“And you told him to pull it.”
“It’s business. Nothing I wouldn’t have done to gain the job myself.”
Part of her wanted to scold him simply on principle. To remind him she’d held her own just fine for years and wanted to land her jobs on merit. The other, far more competitive half perked up, ready to take notes and high-five his tactics. She shot for somewhere in the middle. “So, maybe next time you clue me in and ask me what I think before you cast your net and see what threads are out there. Or better yet, introduce me to your net so I can do my own casting.”
“You’ve met my net. Five of them are out there right now rating how well I got you off based on how loud you screamed.”
In the darkness, he might not be able to see her flush, but she sure felt its burn. “I’m not used to family being in hearing range.”
His smile was instant and full of teeth. “Well, you’d better get used to it. Haven’s yours now as much as it is mine. That includes the family that goes with it.”
Odd. She had her own family, albeit a small one, but up until today the word meant something else. More a strict representation of marriages, bloodlines and emergency contacts. But with Beckett and his brood it brought on a different meaning entirely. A cohesive unit brought together by blood and choice that was stronger together than any of them would be apart. She pressed her hand above his heart and the H tattooed on his chest. “I like that.”
“I like that, too.” He kissed her nose. “You’re not pissed?”
Spoken like th
e cautious little boy who wanted to make sure the coast was clear before he headed out to find more trouble. “Well, I did say I’d listen the next time.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “So, I’m listening.”
Smiling, he pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. “You hungry?”
“Starving. And I cooked!”
He chuckled and nipped her lower lip. “Well then, I guess I’d better get you cleaned up and haul your ass downstairs for chow.”
He started to pull away, but she tightened her legs around his waist.
Raising both eyebrows, he waited, a light playfulness she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before moving behind his blue gaze.
She traced his lips and savored the moment. Just the two of them, painted in shadows and wrapped in each other. “For the record, I liked your tour of Haven better.”
Chapter Eighteen
Loud voices, a whole lot of laughter and an underlying current of unfaltering acceptance. From Beckett’s place on the catwalk that fronted the massive upstairs game room, he couldn’t see much of what was going on in the kitchen below, but he could feel it. Could take the easily followed commentary and bustling sounds and paint the picture in his head. He leaned his forearms onto the iron and woodwork rail that overlooked the big living room below, closed his eyes, and soaked it all in. The Haven crew was up, kicking off a Sunday morning—or in this case, picking up where last night’s family night had left off—and welcoming Ivan, his daughter, Mary, and Gia into the fold. It might have only been four days since Gia had visited Haven for the first time, but from the sounds of things downstairs, she’d settled in like she’d been here for years.
“It’s pancake batter, lass,” Sylvie admonished from somewhere near the prep area. “Ye can’t mess it up.”
“Give me time,” Gia said. “If there’s a way, I’ll figure it out.”
Vivienne’s voice came from somewhere near the kitchen table, a little dry humor coating her response. “This from the woman who made chili and came downstairs an hour later to find out there weren’t any leftovers.”
Footsteps muted by the hallway’s thick rugs sounded behind him a second before Axel’s smooth voice drowned out whatever else was said in the kitchen. “Never thought I’d say this, but I like havin’ ’em here.”
“Odd coming from you. You love women.”
“I do.” Axel leaned into the rail beside him. Like Beckett, he only wore jeans and an old T-shirt, his feet bare and his wild red hair loose to his shoulders. “But there was a time I worried they’d tear Haven apart. Ends up they’ve made it stronger.”
He could see that. Lots of friends he’d had over the years hooked up with women and ended up all but disappearing shortly after. Like they got sucked into some relationship black hole that zeroed in on couples only. Maybe the difference for them was Haven’s gravitational pull—a mass that just kept on building and getting stronger with every new addition.
They stood beside each other, silent. In the kitchen, Knox handed off a Breakfast Stout to Danny, extolling the virtues of a beer not just made from oats, but coffee and chocolate, too.
The topic and the familiar banter struck a memory. Namely the way Jace had stared Axel down at their last rally. Beckett straightened and eyeballed Axel. “You got someone you’re not tellin’ us about?”
The question knocked Axel out of whatever thoughts had gripped him. “Me?” He pushed away from the rail and shook his head, but didn’t quite meet Beckett’s gaze. He rounded behind Beckett and clapped him on the shoulder as he headed for the stairs. “Happy for what you found, brother, but not sure there’s a lass out there willin’ to put up with my shite.” He paused at the top of the stairs, his unruffled mask back in place. “You gonna moon over your woman up here all alone, or get your ass down there and enjoy some hands-on?”
Son of a bitch. Axel McKey was fixated on someone. Who remained to be seen, but Beckett had never once seen or heard his brother dodge a topic the way he’d just done. He’d have to give Jace a nudge and see if he knew who it was.
“Nothin’ wrong with enjoying the view,” Beckett said as he headed down the stairs behind him. “Although, hands-on is a no-brainer with Gia.”
Axel’s sharp laughter preceded them into the kitchen, bringing all the conversation to a halt and drawing every eye at once. Sure enough, the images he’d created in his head had been almost spot-on. Everyone was up, the table overflowing with people nursing their morning coffee and the prep area bustling with the moms and a few of the women. Even the dogs were in on the action, Lacy and Ruger tight on Levi and Mary roving from one family member to another.
Gia spoke first, her eyes dancing and a sweet smile on her lips. “I’m making pancakes.”
“I see that.” Despite Sylvie being in full coaching mode parked on one side of Gia at the island and Darya on the other cutting strawberries, he moved in behind Gia, planted his hands on her hips and kissed her cheek. “Morning.”
She paused stirring the batter long enough to crane her head for another lip-to-lip kiss. “Morning.”
“Enough of that.” Sylvie shooed him away and dumped baking powder and sugar into the bowl. “Get yer coffee and settle in like everyone else. The lass is on a roll.”
She was indeed. Dressed in loose gray cotton sleep pants she’d brought from home and one of his tees, she looked like she’d spent countless nights at Haven instead of just one. He plunked a coffee pod in the brewer, punched the button to start the fancy thing up and leaned a hip to the counter to enjoy the show. He wasn’t sure what he liked more—the fact that Gia had almost as much flour on her as what ended up in the bowl, how she seemed determined to mark every ingredient to memory, or the marksmanship-level concentration she put into pouring the batter on the griddle.
“Hey, Beck,” Zeke said from the far side of the kitchen table, “what happened to you being first one up in the morning?”
“No kidding.” Viv looked up from cleaning blueberries at the sink and jerked her head toward the dogs. “You not going for a run means they’re stuck under our feet.”
Jace grinned at Beckett and snagged his coffee. “Not thinkin’ he needed any more exercise after last night, sugar.”
“Oh, yeah,” Knox said, not looking up from the laptop in front of him, though his smirk was still there. “A hard night, for sure.”
“Emphasis on hard,” Trevor snickered.
“What are you guys? Thirteen?” Nat nudged Trevor with her shoulder and dipped her head in Levi and Mary’s direction. “Tone it down, already.”
Despite Nat’s worry, Levi was too engrossed in whatever Danny was showing him on his phone to latch onto the direction their conversation had taken, and Mary was in a whole different world playing with a doll on Ivan’s lap. Like Ivan, her hair was long, but full of braids instead of dreds. She also had a killer set of warm amber eyes. Blended with her sharp features, it gave her an exotic look that would no doubt drag trouble to Ivan’s doorstep in another eight or nine years.
“Now, ye just loosen the edges and give it a flip.” Like it was the easiest thing in the world, Sylvie flipped the pancake in her wide skillet.
“I can’t do that.”
For a second, Sylvie looked at Gia like she’d proclaimed she couldn’t walk or breathe. Then comprehension settled in. “No, no, lass. Ye don’t have ta do it like that. Not for starters anyway. Just use the spatula.”
“She can flip it.” Even as the words left his mouth, Beckett acknowledged the shit wading in was going to earn him with the rest of the guys, but he couldn’t help it. He’d already had one round of playing with Gia in the kitchen and he wasn’t about to pass up a second, no matter how many spectators they had. He set his coffee aside and moved in behind her, one hand on her hip and the other covering her hand on the small griddle. “She just needs a little help.”
“Beckett, I’m cooking!”
She snickered under her breath, but did as he asked. “Like that?”
Fuck, he didn’t have a clue. His mind had all but glazed over the second she’d pressed her ass flush against him. He gave the pan a flip, only halfway focused on making sure the pancake ended up back where it was supposed to be instead of directly on the stove. The rest of him was considering how fast he could get her out of the kitchen and back up to his suite.
Apparently, he’d done a decent enough job, because Gia let out a delighted squeak and twisted enough to beam him a huge smile. “That’s way more fun than with a spatula.”
Gabe snorted and shut the refrigerator door with her hip, her arms loaded with three syrup bottles and a huge tub of butter. “Why is it my brain processed that statement in a whole different scenario outside the kitchen?”
“Because you spend a lot of time in the kitchen and have a man who’s shown creativity while you’re in there,” Zeke fired back.
Jace shook his head, pushed from his seat and snagged his coffee cup from the tabletop. “Brother, while seeing you at a stove is novel as hell, and I’m sure Gia appreciates the hands-on coaching, you’ve got eight men, seven women and two kids chompin’ at the bit for breakfast. You wanna get a move on?”
Levi didn’t seem to agree with Jace’s approach. “Uncle Beck, I wanna flip pancakes!”
“Me, too!” Mary said.
At the kitchen table next to Trevor, Natalie cut the kids off at the pass before Beckett could wave them over to take turns. “How about you two take Ruger and Lady out back first and if we have batter left over you can practice after we eat?”
“Cool!” Levi slid out from the crook of Danny’s arm, the messy blond hair he was determined to grow as long as Trevor’s still wild from sleep.