Page 88 of For You & No One Else (Say Everything 3)

Twenty-Three

“Hell yes, it can wait,” Eliza said, her arms around Beckham’s neck. “Or as Yoda would say,Wait, it can.”

Beckham laughed and cupped her face. “Hotandnerdy. How am I supposed to resist?”

She could say the same to him. Earlier, she’d called him to end this. She’d told herself it was the wise decision, the mature one. But the minute he’d started telling her all those things he liked about her, all those wonderful things that no guy had ever said to her, she’d been done for. Maybe wise was overrated. She was tired of waiting for the fairy tale. She just wanted to be happy right now.

“You’re not supposed to resist,” she said with a smile. “That’s kind of the point.”

“Agreed.” He slid his hands behind her thighs and lifted her off her feet. She yelped in surprise. Mabel barked. Trent ignored them. “Come on, let’s not traumatize the kids.”

She laughed and he carried her into her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them. He flipped a switch by the door, which turned on her bedside lamp. Her bed was unmade and she had a bra hanging over the back of a chair. She hadn’t expected to have bedroom company, but at the moment, she didn’t care about the state of disarray. Beckham wasn’t looking at her messy bedroom. He was looking only at her, and the promise in his eyes sent shivers straight to her toes.

He set her on her feet and tugged off her T-shirt. She wiggled out of her jeans, leaving her in just a pair of black cotton panties and a pink bra.

He tossed her T-shirt aside and guided the two of them to the bed, his gaze tracking over her. He propped himself up on his elbow next to her and drew a fingertip along her sternum, through the valley between her breasts, and then lower to the triangle of fabric between her legs. The tip of his finger traced lazily down the center of her and then circled the little bundle of nerves that was now growing very, very aware. “I’ve spent my whole week imagining you just like this. Since I left, I haven’t been able to think about much else.” He traced the edge of her panties, the crease of her thigh. “I was tempted every night to call you from the hotel and have a repeat of the night you read to me. The way you sounded when you came that night…I can hear it still. Makes me hard every time I think about it.”

She shivered beneath his touch and the words. “I never knew phone sex could be like that,” she confessed. “I thought it’d be weird or cheesy but…you made me a believer. You have a sex voice.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and husky. “A sex voice?”

She turned her head to meet his gaze. He had a lazy, languid expression on his face, like he could tease her all night. “Yeah, when you get turned on and you switch from friend mode to…this mode, your voice turns into…I don’t know, warm syrup on a hot biscuit. And I’m the biscuit.”

His eyelids went hooded and he teased a finger along the band of her panties. “I like that image. Sounds delicious. And sweet.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, he shifted his body down and off the foot of the bed. He kneeled there and grabbed her behind the knees, gently dragging her toward him. Before she could gather her thoughts, he’d tugged her panties off, exposing her to the cool air of the bedroom.

“Beckham,” she whispered, not sure if she was asking a question or begging for the obvious answer.

“Shh,” he said, the warm air of his breath cascading over her. He slid his palm beneath her thigh, bending her leg and exposing her fully to him. “I’ve been waiting all week to hear you make those sounds you make and to get your taste on my tongue.”

Her belly clenched in anticipation, but there was nothing she could do to prepare for that jolt of electric bliss when Beckham put his mouth on her.Oh. God.Unlike the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am hookups she’d had over the past few years, Beckham Carter was never in a hurry. He didn’t try to get her to orgasm as quickly as possible so he could get on with the activities. No, he liked exploring, taking his sweet time. His tongue traced her curves and his lips pressed kisses along the tender flesh, sucking gently, tasting every bit of her body and then making these pleased, humming sounds that vibrated through her like a low-grade earthquake.

She was a volcano, ready to explode.Boom.Done. There would only be a black, singed outline of her body on the mattress by the end of this.

He dragged his tongue along her clit and slid two fingers inside her, knowing exactly where she liked to be touched most. Her heels dug into the mattress, and her back lifted like she was trying out for a new version ofThe Exorcist. She let out a sharp whimper and grabbed a fistful of blanket, afraid she’d launch herself right off the bed.The power of Beckham compels you.

“That’s the sound,” Beckham said, slowly moving his fingers inside her, and then he gently bit the inside of her thigh. “Fucking gorgeous, Eli. I could spend all night right here, tasting you, listening to you.”

“I won’t survive the night,” she gasped, arching again when he curled his fingers a little. “Spontaneous combustion exists.”

He pressed his lips against her pubic bone and she could feel him smile against her. He lifted his head and drew his tongue along the crease of her leg, making her nipples tighten against her bra. “Ask me for what you want, Eli, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

“You want me to beg?” She lifted her head to look down at him, intending to be sassy, to be stern, but seeing him there, mouth inches above her, desire in his eyes, she lost all train of thought. She reached out and grabbed two fistfuls of his hair. Heat flared in his gaze. “Please, Beck. Make me come.”

He didn’t smile or joke or tease this time. Instead he held the eye contact and let her guide him down, her grip on his hair tightening. She couldn’t look away from those blue-green eyes as he put his mouth on her.

The sensation rocketed up her legs and made her stomach tighten, but she didn’t look away. She watched him watching her. The feel of his lips and tongue and fingers drove her to the brink, but what put her over the edge was that connection—the unapologetic eye lock—that held her in thrall. She’d never felt such a deeply visceral attraction to someone, a magnetic pull that she’d been fighting since day one with Beckham, like her atoms were inexorably drawn to his. Her whole body seemed to hum like a power line. Then he curved his fingers just right, and all thought blinked out of her mind.

Her orgasm crashed over her like hard rain, waking up every inch of her with sensation. Her head tipped back and her eyes finally closed. She made noises he’d tease her about later, but she didn’t care. For now, she just let all that feeling soak into her skin.

When she was still panting, Beckham pulled away. She blinked her eyes open in the dim lamp light, catching sight of him tugging off his T-shirt and then unzipping his jeans. He smiled down at her, his hair a complete mess, his tattooed arms like art. “Full confession…I’m taking really dirty mental pictures of this moment right now.”

“Are you now?” She smiled back and reached behind herself to unhook her bra. She slipped it off and tossed it aside. “Might as well get full-frontal mental photos.”

“Agreed.”

“But you definitely have too many clothes on.”

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