Sultry in Stilettos (27 page)

Too bad he didn’t have a
good guy bone in him. So much for reformed. He was going to have
Ricca. Screw the consequences.

****

Ricca felt the zipper
finally give, and she exhaled a sigh of relief. It wasn’t until she
tried to step away that she realized Beckett still held onto her.
"Hey, what are you doing? You were pretty clear you didn’t want to
do this. And I respect that.”
My
ass.

Beckett's fingers glided
over the small of her back in the barest hint of a caress. The
electricity shot through her body like she'd been stuck by
lightning. Or at the very least stuck her finger in a socket. She
could do this. She could seduce him. He was what she wanted after
all.
For once, just go after it and take
it, Ricca.
Looking at him over her
shoulder, she beamed a smile. Making sure to pierce him with a
direct stare. “You going to do something with that hand, or are you
going to just dream about it for the rest of your life?”

His eyes widened, his hand
giving another convulsive spasm, but he let her go.
Coward
. She marshaled in
a bracing breath and turned to face him. This was Beckett, her best
friend. The one she came to with all her problems. The one she
could trust and rely on.

He licked his lips and
cleared his throat. "What are you doing, Ricca?"

She let the silk gossamer
fall to the floor. A low hiss issued from his teeth. "Are you going
to help me with this top? I had a bitch of a time getting these two
little hooks done."

He backed up again. With a
little frown, she advanced forward. "Fine. Suit yourself. I'll just
have to do it myself.”

She saw the little quiver
in his hands and almost smiled to herself. Given the need she saw
in his eyes, she hadn't been the only one suffering.

She worked at the hooks
freeing first one, then with some effort, the other. The damn thing
flew open like she’d just inhaled a deep breath after surfacing
from a minute underwater. The fabric barely covered her nipples,
but it did a stand-up job at trying.

The low curse she heard
from Beckett emboldened her. "Beckett, I know what I want. Are you
going to give it to me? Or are you going to run?"

His mouth opened, but no
sound came out. He shut it. Opened it again in another attempt.
Still no sound.
Third time's the
charm
.

This time as he spoke, his
voice was distorted. Low. Guttural. "No going back,
Ricca."

She advanced the final
step, closing the gap between them. "Who's going back?”

Ricca stepped forward and
was lost. The low moan that came from Beckett's throat sounded like
a purr. And it rolled over her like a caress. "Beckett?" she asked,
keeping her voice low, though the throaty quality was something she
hadn’t counted on. "Do you want to help me?"

His eyes were still
hooded. She could see his hands twitch from the periphery. He
wanted her. Why didn't he just do something about it? Or maybe
she'd made the whole thing up in her head. Maybe—

He moved so fast her
breath chased out of her lungs in a rush, leaving her gasping. When
he deposited her on the large bed that was surrounded by pillows,
he loomed over her and pierced her with the entire weight of his
gaze. "Now's your chance to go back. To change your
mind."

When she didn't speak, he
muttered what sounded like prayers of thanks.

Instead of starting with
her breasts as she'd anticipated, his hands went to her hair. He
was so tender in his ministrations, stroking, his thumbs rubbing
slow circles at her temples. "Beautiful, Ricca,” he
murmured.

The kiss he gave her was
soft at first. Coaxing even. With one arm bracing the majority of
his weight and the other scooping under her to adjust her position,
he settled her at a better angle. Hand still cupping her ass, he
deepened their kisses. Taking long drugging pulls at her lips,
eliciting a moan out of her. She arched her body under his and
could feel the length of his erection nudging at her hip. Begging
for attention.

When Beckett trailed his
lips along her jaw line to her neck, his teeth grazed her skin, and
she shivered. Her hands trailed up his back, and she could feel his
muscles bunch and flex under her touch. She’d seen his muscles so
many times as he’d run around shirtless. Even slathered sun block
on him more times than she could count. But it was all different
now. She was different.

Beckett took his time with
his explorations, each kiss laying out a path of seduction and
electricity hot enough to singe her nerve endings. He moved to her
breasts, and Ricca sucked in a breath of air and held it. As he
kissed just along the edges of the little bolero, his breath cooled
her too-hot skin in some places and added to the overheating in
others.

When he nudged aside one
side of the bolero to kiss the underside of her breast, the breath
she’d been holding came out in a rush. She could feel his chuckle
against her skin. But he wasn’t getting down to business. Beckett
was nothing, if not thorough. He continued the exploration with his
tongue until he found her belly button. “I’ve been wondering what
you tasted like here ever since you wore that jersey to my
house.”

He placed a soft kiss in
the little divot of flesh. “I’ve had dreams about this belly
button.” Another kiss, this one lingering. She could feel his cock
strain and throb as her body arched into the caress of his
lips.

“So many dreams.”
Bracketing her hips with his wide, strong hands, he held her in
place as he dipped a tongue into her belly button. Her hips jerked
up, and his fingers dug into her hips. God, was this what she’d
been missing out on all this time? Holding herself back from?
Denying herself? She could kick herself.

But Beckett wasn’t
finished. His thumbs stroked that expanse of flesh between her
belly button and her pubic bone. Even as he trailed kisses to
follow his thumbs, he murmured words of adoration and lust. Beckett
Mills wanted her. And he was a master of seduction.

When he moved his kisses
lower, she wiggled her hips in anticipation.

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll
get there eventually. I do promise to make you feel
good.”

She didn’t realize she’d
whimpered until the soft sound pierced the air. His thumbs snuck
under the tiny patch of sapphire blue satin. “Is it okay if I get
rid of this pair?”

She nodded, and he wasted
no time snatching the thong by the patch and tearing. “I’ll buy you
a new pair. That’s just something I’ve been thinking about doing
since that night in my apartment.”

Her skin heated. His
thumbs nudged her lips, and he hissed again. “God damn, baby,
you’re so wet for me. Are you thinking about what we did that
night?” He stroked her again, this time circling a thumb over her
clit.

She whispered,
“Yes.”

Stroke. Circle. “Are you
thinking about that first night?”

An involuntary shiver
wiggled up her spine. “Yes.”

Stroke. Circle. “Good. I
want you thinking about that.” While one thumb kept up the slow
circular motions on her clit, he shifted his other hand to slide
one impossibly long finger into her core. “Hm, so tight. So
perfect.”

Ricca moaned in pleasure
as she buried her head further into the pillow. Shit. He really
knew how to touch a woman.

****

She tasted sweet. The
first stoke of his tongue had Beckett moaning. So fucking perfect.
Ricca was so fucking perfect. And she was his. For the first time
since he'd heard what she said, he started to hope that they could
maybe be more than what they'd always been. Maybe just being him
would be enough. Not that he really cared anymore. He wanted her as
his, and he wouldn’t let her go now. He couldn’t. At least not
without destroying a part of himself.

He felt her hands slip
into his hair and relished the impatient tug. God, she was so sexy.
He had all the time in the world. And he intended to use it.
Especially now that he’d had a taste of her. The possession roared
through him. His. Only his.

He glided his tongue over
the center of her soft core again, pausing to run his tongue in a
slow languid circle over the tight bud of her clitoris. He heard
her breath hitch, and he smiled. "You like that?"

Her answer was a moan, and
as she pulled his head closer to her moist center, he knew he was
on the right track. "Tell me how you like it, Ricca. Harder?" He
demonstrated, and she groaned. "Softer?" he showed her what he
meant, and he could feel her legs quiver around him.

"Harder." She gasped, and
he obliged, then she let out a soft curse.

He could feel her
impending orgasm before she called out his name. Felt the telltale
quiver of her thighs, tasted her sweet nectar on his lips. Her
hands tightened in his hair. The sharp sting of a pain made him
shiver with need. His cock throbbed painfully, but he mentally
wrestled it for control. He would not rush this. He would not be in
a hurry here. Ricca was different. Special.

As he kissed the insides
of her thighs, and he felt her body go limp, he murmured loving
words to her. Nonsensical words. He knew she probably couldn't hear
him, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to say them out loud. She
might have thought he was done, but he wasn't. He continued to
explore every hidden valley of her folds and ignored her urgings
for him to hurry. It wasn’t until she had her second orgasm that he
lost the battle of wills with his throbbing cock and balls. He
needed to get inside her. Needed to feel her silken walls
surrounding him and milking him.

"Beckett,
please."

Lifting his head, he
watched in satisfaction as Ricca’s hands knotted in the sheets, and
she threw her head back. Ecstasy etched onto her face like the most
gorgeous artwork. He didn't give her time to come down from her
orgasm—tossing his T-shirt over his head, he leveled himself over
her diminutive form. "Ricca, look at me."

Lazy eyes blinked up at
him. The moment her eyes focused, she smiled the sweetest smile,
full of satisfaction and love. He loved her. He knew it. And he
would never be the same after tonight. He shifted her under him,
and cupping her ass, he couldn't help but give her a squeeze. God,
she was so sexy.

Her eyes remained on his
as he entered her, widening as he stretched her. The moment her
eyes clouded, he stopped and gritted his teeth against his need,
for once more concerned about someone else. "Are you okay?" He
waited for her response.

Her eyes narrowed up at
him then she took matters into her own hands. She wrapped both
hands around each of his ass cheeks and drew him into her in one
thrust.

"Jesus." The curse escaped
his lips before he knew what was happening. She wiggled around
underneath him, encasing him in her slick heat from base to tip.
Her eyes fluttered closed in an expression of bliss.

That did it. Unable to
control his hips, he withdrew the tiniest bit and reseated himself
inside her with a groan. Lowering his head to hers, he hissed in a
breath. "Absolutely perfect."

As he thrust, he could
feel her nails scoring into his back. Demanding him to move faster,
harder. When she called his name, Beckett was sure he was having
the best fantasy of his life.

Beckett felt the tingle at
the base of his spine, and he gritted out, "Whoa. Stop."

Ricca immediately went
still. Forcing himself to stop the thrusting was another matter. He
gave the command, but his hips didn't obey. Eventually, he pulled
her tight to him and rolled them over, not breaking the contact.
Gripping her hips as he pumped, he begged her, "Ride
me."

As she did, those
magnificent breasts of hers swayed, and he thought there wasn't any
other place in his life he’d ever want to be.

"Oh. My. God," Ricca
whispered.

He held on as her orgasm
rolled through her and milked him. Grip release. Grip.
Release.
God
. As
the tingle in his spine rolled through his gut, he followed her
shout with a guttural one of his own. “God, Ricca." The strength of
his orgasm forced him up off the bed. He held on tight, his hands
grasping her sweat-slickened back as he soared into
firelight.

She collapsed on top of
him. As his eyelids fought the battle to stay open, he held her
tight to him
. His Ricca.

****

Ricca stretched, enjoying
the luxurious feel of the satin sheets. God, she could wake up like
this every day. The scent of jasmine incense in the air, the—she
frowned. She was naked. And there was a hand on her right
breast.

She cracked an eye open and
noted the ceiling of the inner suite. The sunken living room. Those
weren't satin sheets at her back. More like satin pillows.
Beckett. Holy shit. Now what, Ricca? Time to run,
or time to face the music?

She opted for truth and
consequence time. After all what's the worst that could happen?
Besides him telling her it was a mistake or something.