Page 30 of Wilder
Beckham takes a long time to answer. Finally, I take hold of his jaw, staring into his eyes. “Talk to me.”
His breaths are unsteady and erratic. His chest heaves as the anguish pours from him. “No. No, I wasn’t the only one. The bitch was a pedophile. And I made sure she fucking paid.”
THIRTEEN
BECKHAM
Wilder takesa last swallow of water before getting up and crossing to the kitchen where, like the good houseguest he is, he places the empty glass in the top rack of the dishwasher. He turns around, eyeing Royal and me before he points his finger upward, in the general direction of the bedrooms. “I gotta catch some z’s so I’m rested for the fight tomorrow. I’ll crash in the guest bedroom.”
We hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements before Echo headed to her room twenty minutes ago. I have no idea if she’d prefer to sleep in peace by herself. I’ll certainly be more than fine whether on a bed or on a couch, but… I’d rather be with Echo right now. I feel that pull to be with her, even if she doesn’t know I’m there. Slowly, I run a palm over the stubble on my cheek as I consider whether Royal will be fine with me stealing our girl to myself for the night. Somehow, I doubt he’d mind sharing a room with Wilder, if that’s what it comes down to.
Kara pokes her head in, her gaze bouncing around the room, landing on each of us. “You know the drill at this point. Sleep wherever.”
Royal nods. “Will do. Is the alarm set?”
“Shit.” She crosses to the system’s control panel beside the patio door and jabs her finger quickly over the series of numbers that arms the house. 2-0-3-1-2-3. She didn’t try to hide it from us. Makes me wonder how many other people know that code. Todd in finance, most likely. I grit my teeth. I don’t like it.
But as far as the three of us guys are concerned, perhaps she automatically trusts us because Echo does. She really should be more careful, considering all the bullshit that’s gone down in the past two weeks, but I’ll bite my tongue, as she’s allowing us to stay here. Her hospitality is far beyond what any of us expected.
Honestly, I’d swear on Wilder’s pretty pierced peen that Echo’s sister must be some sort of saint. Her life has gotten exponentially crazier since we got booted out of SIN by the investigative team looking into Freya and Zane’s deaths and took refuge here. There’s been no fucking word yet about being able to move back to SIN. I assume they are going over that place with a fine-tooth comb, especiallymyroom, and that has me a little more on edge than I figured it might. Not a clue why, because there’s literally nothing in there and certainly nothing I’ve fucking done to be worried about the police turning up something that would cause us trouble.
Royal’s gaze remains locked on his fingers as he drums them on the table, and questions gruffly, “Where do you want to sleep?” I clear my throat, mash my lips together, unsure what the right move is here. When I don’t voice an opinion, he continues on with a shrug. “Your preference, man. Wilder will be sound asleep soon. If you need some quiet, that’s the right move, I would think. But”—one brow hikes up as he finally connects with my gaze—“I’m guessing Echo might be more who you need tonight.” He watches me carefully, as if he sees the chaos in my head. “Just a thought. An observation.”
My eyes travel over his bare torso, the hollows and ridges of his abdomen especially pronounced in the dim lighting at thislate hour. I don’t know what prompts me to say it, but I murmur, “And what if it’s you I need?”
“Then we’d figure that out, I guess.” He stares steadily at me, not even blinking at my forwardness. “But I believe it’s her you need after all the talk about Megan.” Cocking his head to the side, he pointedly narrows his light-green eyes as he studies my features, looking for signs that he’s wrong. He’s not. He’s right on the money. With a subtle jut of his chin at me, he rises from his seat at the table. “You know it’s true. And I’m fine with it. See you in the morning.” That’s one thing I like about Royal. He doesn’t necessarily need to wait around for anyone to admit he’s right, he simply owns it and carries on without rubbing it in the other person’s face.
I flip off the under-cabinet lighting, leaving the inset light over the sink glowing softly. Moving quietly through the house, I double-check that the front door is locked and the alarm is indeed set before I head up the stairs, following in Royal’s wake. By the time I get to the landing, the door to the guest room is clicking quietly shut.
At the end of the hall, I ease the door to Echo’s room open. The delicate vanilla fragrance of her bodywash floats on the air, and I take a moment to inhale, feeling it take up residence in every cell of my body. She’s fuckin’ delicious. I could spend hours with my face burrowed against her skin.
I drag in several deep breaths, each hit of her more potent than the last. And what’s really crazy is the extra oxygen I’m taking in doesn’t seem to have gone anywhere near my brain. Probably because the blood that should be delivering it to my fucking head seems to be pumping in the opposite direction, directly to my overexcited dick. A strangled groan escapes my lips, and I still, waiting for a sign that Echo knows I’m here.
Even if she were awake, much like the last time I snuck in here, it’d be very hard to see me anyway unless I begin to move,which I’m not ready for yet. I’m still absorbing every last thing I can before I do. It’s blacker than a mile-deep cave, courtesy of the room darkening shades she’s drawn. There’s simply no light coming from any source other than the tiny amount sneaking in from under the door.
Even so, while my eyes haven’t adjusted enough to see her, it doesn’t matter. I know she’s here—all that vibrant red hair spilling over her crisp white pillowcase, her body curled up on the bed with slim legs tucked up toward her chest.
I’ve noticed she always kicks off the sheets, so I imagine I’ll eventually be able to see all of her, instead of a lump under the bedding. I scrape my teeth over my lip and fervently wish it wereherplush pink one. Will she be wearing yet another favorite concert T-shirt?Yes, I think so.With a swallow, I continue fantasizing. An oversize T-shirt, or perhaps something cropped? Either way, I bet it’s worked up around her slim waist, maybe even edging up under her breasts. And she’ll be wearing some fuck-hot panties. Doesn’t seem to matter to me whether they’re boy shorts or a thong, cotton or lace. Anything covering my little love’s sweet cunt is sexy as hell to me.
Suddenly, I’m very fucking overheated, so I quietly ease out of my T-shirt and drop it to the floor, one hand grabbing at the back of my neck, trying to ease some of the tension I’ve created by holding back, and the other skimming over the warm skin of my stomach. I pretend for a second it’s her touching me.
Fuck. Why the hell do you do this to yourself?But as I stand here enveloped in a swirl of lustful thoughts, the answer is simple. Everything about Echo makes me want her. Every tiny nuance of who she is as a person turns me right the fuck on. The more I know, the deeper my obsession with her digs into my soul. I don’t even care if it buries me alive, so long as I can have her.
And Echo? She wouldn’t ever fucking hurt me the way Megan did. My eyes crash shut, and I shove the heavy thoughts from my ugly past into a box in my head, and lock that bitch up tight.
With every unsteady beat of my heart, I push my past to the side to focus on my future. A few minutes pass until my vision acclimates to the darkness, and I can finally see my gorgeous girl on the bed. Secretly pleased that my guess was right, my eyes rove over Echo’s pale stomach as she shifts from her side to her back, and oh, thank fuck, the shirt she’s wearing moves with her, bunching beneath her breasts.
How the fuck is this real life? How is it that she trusts me and understands what I need? How did a sinner like me end up earning the attention of an angel like her?
All those questions race through my mind, but it’s when my attention shifts to Echo’s lower body, and I take in the mere scrap of fabric covering her pussy that I realize I’m simply the luckiest fuck ever. Her slim legs part—just for me—and a rush of heat barrels through me. And now, stretched out on the bed like this, she’s the most tempting, sweet thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on.
My heart rate ratchets higher and higher as her leg bends to an angle that gives me a full, unfettered view of the swatch of material between her legs. Lace, I think. My cock strains behind my joggers, insistent, and I slip my hand from the heated skin of my stomach down to the pronounced bulge. At first, I move to readjust myself, but goddammit, I can’t help but stroke my erection to the rhythm of each and every one of her breaths.
Jesus, she’s going to kill me. My mouth goes bone-dry. A surge of lust races through my veins before it crests, crashing into me, and nearly taking me under.
Slowly, I creep toward the end of the bed on quiet feet, and as I do, the low rasp of my breathing becomes more pronounced. More like panting.Fuuuck.My eyes dart sharply to her chest asshe stretches, arms over her head and gifts me with a view of the luscious swells of her breasts. I groan at the thought. And oh my god, is she something to behold, all laid out here like this. Just for me.
It’s too much. I hope she meant it when she said she understood me.This.Because I will die if I don’t touch her. My fingers toy with the cool sheet at the end of the bed. She’s already mostly kicked free of it. I grasp it and slide it smoothly from the bed. My heart hammers and thumps wildly, no doubt meaning to tattoo my need for her onto my rib cage from the inside. I don’t have a chance of stopping now.
