Page 62 of For You & No One Else (Say Everything 3)

Maybe he needed to drown.

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Eliza didn’t know where the streak of boldness had come from. This was the opposite of the plan she’d had tonight. She’d been firmly focused on reestablishing the friend vibes. But the way Beckham had looked at her when he’d saidI pictured all kinds of things during that kiss… It’d done her in. The heat that had zipped through her had burned up all her best intentions. His words hadn’t been romantic in tone. He’d used the wordprimaland that felt right to her. The two of them hooking up didn’t make sense for so many reasons, but there was just something undeniably…magnetic between them. It made it hard to concentrate.

Since the night of the kiss, her secret thoughts about Beckham had gone from vaguely sexy to downright filthy. Some of the fantasies that had floated through her head the last few nights before falling asleep… If she still went to confession, she’d probably give the priest a heart attack. If she didn’t do something about this, she and Beckham wouldn’t last as friends anyway. They’d always be working hard to avoid the electricity humming in the room.

“Come ’ere, Eli,” he said, his blue-green eyes silver in the light from the TV. “Just come here.” Then he guided her down to him and put his mouth to hers.

Instead of going straight for the kind of kiss they’d shared the other night, he took her bottom lip between his teeth, lightly scraping and sending tendrils of awareness snaking down her spine. Her fingers curled into his T-shirt. Then he kissed the corner of her mouth and the bow of her lips, cupping her jaw and taking his time. Her heartbeat hammered, his deliberate pace making her ache.

He slid his hands down to her neck and tipped her head back, exposing her throat. His lips brushed against the hollow there. “Were you trying to kill me with this outfit?”

She scoffed, though the sound came out a little strangled. “You think I tried to impress you with yoga pants and no makeup?”

He kissed her collarbone and shifted his hands down to her hips. “These pants hug every part of you. It’s seriously distracting. There’s almost nothing between…you and me.”

He ran his palm over her thigh and then pressed the hot heel of his hand against the most sensitive part of her, applying pressure. She made a sharp sound and her body shuddered.Oh God.How long had it been since she’d been touched by someone other than herself? She didn’t want to count the months.

Beckham groaned. “See. Barely anything. I bet I could make you come without even taking them off.”

“So cocky,” she said, trying to tease, but the words came out too breathy for her to pull off the sarcasm.

He dragged his thumbnail gently over the center of her, that little bundle of nerves, slow and wickedly precise. Her thighs tightened, her sensitivity dialed to high, and she gripped his shoulders.

“Take off your bra,” he said, voice quiet but full of authority.

His firm tone gave her a hot shiver. He might be younger than she was, but he didn’t lack for confidence. That streak of bossiness would piss her off in other arenas, but in bed,yes please.

She reached for her tank top.

“No. Just the bra for now.”

She wet her lips. His gaze was heavy on hers. His thumb dragged across the seam of her pants again, making sensation radiate upward, the eye contact only enhancing the effect. She reached behind her, unhooking her bra, and then slipped it off and tossed it aside. The relief she usually got from taking off her bra at night—that whole body sigh—was an entirely different experience watching Beckham watch her. Nothing was relaxing about this. Every part of her was humming like a power line. His attention dropped to her breasts, which were now easily visible through her pale-pink tank top, her nipples hard and sensitive against the soft cotton.

“You’re gorgeous, Eli,” he said, the little catch in his voice belying how cool and calm he seemed on the outside. He reached up with his free hand and cupped her breast. His thumb traced over her nipple through the shirt. “You want to lick my tattoos? Well, I’ve wanted to lick some parts of you, too.”

“I approve of this plan,” she said, closing her eyes at the feel of him touching her.

“Lace your fingers behind your back,” he said, his thumb stroking, stroking, stroking.

Her eyelids fluttered open. “Why?”

He looked at her. “Trust me?”

She swallowed past the tightness in her throat, doing a gut check and finding no worry there. She did trust Beckham. She felt…safe with him. “Okay.”

The smile he gave her warmed her blood.

She laced her fingers together behind her back, which pushed her chest out toward him. Before she could prepare herself further, Beckham leaned forward and put his mouth on her breast, keeping the thin layer of cotton between them, but dragging his tongue over her in a way that made that little layer of abrasion send sparks of sensation along her skin.

She moaned softly and goose bumps chased up her body.

Beckham took his time, sucking and nibbling, cupping her in his hand and making it hard not to writhe against him. Not being able to touch him amped up the feeling, her senses honed in only on what he was doing to her. Her body was tightening, hovering at the edge of something bigger. But then he started to stroke her between her legs at the same time. She was damp there now, hot, the thin stretchy material of her pants and panties doing nothing to protect her from the pressure of his fingers. She rocked against his touch, needing more and feeling like it was too much at the same time.

“Go on. Come for me, Eli,” he said before pulling down the neckline of her tank top and taking her into his mouth. The hot, wet heat of his tongue and the expert stroke of his fingers was all she could take. Her head tipped back and her nails bit into the tops of her clasped hands as she cried out, orgasm crashing over her like a thunderstorm.

Beckhammmmed against her skin, his reaction sending her higher. He held her and touched her through it, keeping her riding the peak for long, delicious moments.

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