Page 47 of A Not So Merry Rescue
A V dipping into his waistband.
Washboard abs.
A well-manscaped chest.
Muscular pecs.
It’s evident he takes care of his body, works out to keep a fit shape, but not overly. He’s trim and fit, not bulky like some guys who think more muscles are attractive.
My tongue sneaks out of my mouth, moistening my lips.
I’ve never been with a man who looks like Beckett. Like he stepped off a page in GQ, both with his clothes and without. I’m certain our attraction isn’t based on physical attributes alone, but he is not an eyesore.
I try to walk a few times a week and meet a friend for different gym classes at least two or three times. Some days, those are the only reason I have to leave my house. I’ve never been more thankful she coerces me to join her than I am now. You can’t bounce a quarter off my ass, but I’ve got some definition, and I don’t cringe when looking at my naked body in the mirror.
He shucks his pants, leaving him standing in black boxers. He strides around the bed to the other nightstand, my eyes trained on him, my body contorting to watch his every move. Two dimples stand out on his back, but it’s hard to delineate the shape of his ass. I don’tthinkI’m drooling, but man, if I am, I’m not even an ounce ashamed.
Beckett Nicholas is one fine specimen.
I blame this complete obsession with his body on the situation I find myself in. I’m not usually into objectifying people’s bodies, male or female, but that’s exactly what I’m doing withBeckett. I’m a proponent of what’s on the inside matters more than the outside, but in Beckett’s defense, I’d say they’re equal.
“Got your fill?”
His words draw me out of my stupor, but the meaning doesn’t process.
“Huh?”
“You’re staring. Like I’m a piece of meat.” His voice isn’t its usual tone, and I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. His use of “meat” doesn’t go unnoticed by my ears.
“With a body like yours, I can’t imagine everyone doesn’t stare.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. I like your bra. You wear that for me?” Why does that thought light up my insides further?
Forgetting which one I’m wearing, I peek down at the floral embroidery mesh.
My lips tip into a smile. “Would you like it more if I say yes or no?”
He tips his head from side to side, his eyes never leaving my chest. “Honestly, either answer turns me on. Knowing you wore it so I’d see, like you had me in mind when you put it on, is powerful.” He reaches into the drawer next to me, extracting a box of condoms. “But knowing it was hiding underneath your clothes?” The mattress depresses where he kneels next to my legs. “Damn. That’s hot, Willa.”
I give him my skewed truth. “I put it on this morning, before any of this was on the table.” He climbs more on the bed, caging my legs with his knees. “But I kept it on for you. It’s my favorite.”
“Even when no one sees it?”
“Bras are my one indulgence, a treat to myself. Even at home, when I spend all day writing in sweats and don’t leave my house, I wear a fancy bra. A best-kept secret, maybe? I’ve never had anyone ask before, and I’ve never tried to explain it.” It’s something I’ve done for a long time. Elias accepted it as who I was. If he thought it odd, he never said.
Beckett nods, his eyes glued to the bra. “While I admire it, love how it showcases your cleavage, mind if I take it off?”
I sit up, my arms reaching around behind me to unclasp it, but Beckett grunts, halting my movements.
“I asked, politely if you’ll recall, to take it off. I didn’t mention you doing the honors.” There’s a hint of hesitation in his voice, though he makes his motives clear.
“Okay.”
He reaches around, unhooking the bra, allowing the straps to fall to my arms. Gentle fingers trace down my arms, eliciting goose bumps. He removes the lingerie, letting it drop to the floor on the side of the bed, his vision not once leaving my chest. Under his scrutiny, my chest heaves, my skin tingling.
“Beautiful. Gorgeous. Luxurious.”
I can’t contain my giggle. “Interesting list of synonyms.”
