Page 18 of Accidentally Joining His Cult (Chicago Awakenings #1)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Cody

B eck’s condo is incredible, easily the fanciest building I’ve ever stepped foot in. There’s marble and chandeliers everywhere, a sleek modern aesthetic complemented by intricate moldings and ornate furniture that I’d expect in an older building. Not to mention the doorman and multiple security guards in the lobby. Beck scanned us into the private penthouse elevator, and even though it took us right to his floor, it felt like the ride lasted forever.

There’s tension between us right now, and I can’t tell if it’s the I need you naked kind or something else, especially with how quiet he’s being.

He keeps giving me very heated glances like he wants to devour me, but then he looks away just as quickly like he’s holding something back. I know that the distance between us has been a stressor, but I’m hoping that he’ll feel more comfortable once we can finally touch each other.

The elevator opens into a decent-sized entryway, and we step through into a gorgeous state-of-the-art kitchen. Everything is dark and sleek—black cabinets and black quartz counters, with dark walls and furniture. It all feels cozy in the large space, and it seems to fit Beck’s vibe perfectly.

There are huge floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side of the room looking out over the lit-up skyline and the vast, dark expanse of what must be Lake Michigan.

We both pause in the large open-concept living room, full of pictures of his family and friends, and he turns to face me. Without saying anything, the tension breaks, and we collide into each other’s embrace—a tangle of desperate kisses and groping hands.

My blood had been rushing south since the elevator ride in anticipation of finally being alone together, and my cock is now aching to break free of my pants. I grind into Beck as I kiss down his jaw and neck, wanting to taste every inch of him.

He pushes me toward the deep sectional that’s taking up most of the room, stripping me down and forcing me back until I’m completely naked and falling onto it with a laugh.

I twist to get comfortable, lying back like I would on a bed, propping myself up with some pillows. Beck quickly sheds his clothes and grabs a bottle of lube from the end table, tossing it next to me. I quirk a brow at its location.

“I like to be prepared,” he says with a smirk. The bottle looks pretty full, though, like maybe he prepared specifically for my visit.

Beck is unbelievably hot as he crawls up the couch until he’s on his hands and knees above me, trapping me under him.

“Hey, Goldie.” His tone is practically a growl with how low his lust-drunk voice sounds.

I let out an embarrassing whimper and attempt to pull him down onto me fully. Our rock-hard cocks rub together and even that feels spectacular.

I thrust my hips up into him, desperate for more, but Beck lowers his weight to sit back and straddle me. He’s sitting up at the perfect angle to line up our erections, and he grabs the bottle of lube. Beck gives himself a few rough strokes, slicking his cock, then does the same to mine. His firm grip feels so unbelievably good, I could fall apart right now if I’m not careful.

Then he blows my fucking mind when he wraps his hand around us both.

I gasp as he moves his fist up and down, twisting and squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. But the really mind-blowing part is how amazing it feels to have our cocks rubbing together. The swollen heads bumping and dragging against each other as we both thrust our hips, fucking up into the warm, wet channel his hand creates has me desperate for release already.

“Who knew that other dicks could be so fun?” I manage to get out after a needy moan.

“I’ve always known,” he says with a smug grin.

“Well, thanks for sharing,” I tease. He continues to work us both, and the sight is so fucking hot. I try to take in every detail of our cocks rubbing together, knowing how often I’ll want to remember exactly what it looks like when we’re not in the same city again. Beck’s movements feel so good, and I’ve been so desperate for us to be together again, that I’m worried I won’t last much longer. “Fuck, Beck, I’m seriously so close already. This feels amazing.”

“Come for me.” His voice has that growly undertone, and there’s no mistaking his words as anything other than the command that they are.

“I don’t want this to be over yet,” I say with an edge of panic. I really wanted him to fuck me tonight.

Beck looks at me indulgently before he continues, picking up the pace of his movements and making it really difficult for me to even focus on what he’s saying. “I won’t last either, we’ve been apart for too long. Come for me. Paint our bodies in your release. I'm right behind you."

“I want as many rounds as possible before tomorrow,” I insist, still trying to hold back. How is it possible to already be craving more of him, even though he’s right here, making me feel incredible?

“Baby, I need you to be a good boy and come for me,” he says in that deep, commanding tone.

His term of endearment, combined with the demand and potential for praise, makes me lose all hope of prolonging this orgasm. I let out a strangled cry, my muscles tense, and my cock jerks, cum shooting all over my abs and chest as waves of pleasure crash violently through me.

Beck’s release mixes with my own as he follows me over the edge, moaning out my name as his body shudders over mine.

He collapses next to me on the deep-set couch, taking a few moments to catch his breath before repositioning us so that I rest my head on his chest. His fingers play with our cum, mixing it together even more before scooping it up to bring it to my mouth for me to lick off. I love tasting him. Earning his release always gives me such a feeling of accomplishment, and knowing how much he loves to see me finish it all is hot as hell.

“Good boy,” he whispers when I’ve licked it all up. His praise fulfills me in a way that I’ve never experienced before. It’s a high that I want to continue to earn over and over again.

Eventually, I shift to look up at him, smiling and not saying anything, just taking in the moment.

“How was that?” he finally asks with a cocky grin.

“Obviously amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, squeezing me tighter to him. I close my eyes, cuddling in closer, and pretend like we have all of the time in the world.

* * *

Last night was spectacular, even if Beck didn’t fuck me.

Eventually, he got up from the couch to get some damp towels to clean us up with before we made our way to his super fancy bathroom. If I thought the one in the hotel during my last trip to Chicago was extravagant, it had nothing on this one.

Everything was black marble, from the long counter with a built-in vanity to the sleek sinks that looked like sculpted bowls resting on the surface. There was a clawfoot soaking tub in the center of the room and a huge jacuzzi tub that looked like it could fit four people built in against the wall. The shower had all of the bells and whistles from the hotel, with a crazy amount of shower heads and benches, and there was even an attached sauna and steam room!

We ended up in the shower together, washing and finding any excuse to run our hands and mouths all over each other. By the time we stepped out, we were both painfully hard and desperate again. Beck wasted no time dropping to his knees and taking my cock to the back of his throat. Even though I’d just cum on the couch not even an hour before, I didn’t last long at all. When Beck started teasing my rim with his finger, I couldn’t hold back and quickly shot down his throat. My lack of stamina would be more embarrassing if Beck didn’t seem to be having the same problem.

It was so fucking hot that I needed to have a turn myself. My blowjob skills could definitely use some work, but I think my enthusiasm makes up for my inexperience. Beck didn’t last long either, and we hopped back into the shower for a quick clean-up before climbing into his bed.

I packed my usual sleep pants but decided against them and ended up curled in Beck’s arms, both of us naked.

Now, I’m still wrapped in his arms as my alarm rings, but Beck has me trapped with how tight his hold is, and I can’t quite reach my phone to silence it.

“Shut uuuup,” he draws out the word and groans loudly, blindly swinging his arm in the general direction of the phone. I don’t think he’s even opened his eyes yet.

“Sorry, Beck, but I’ve got to head out for my flight soon,” I whisper.

“Okay,” he agrees, holding me tighter instead of letting go. He thrusts his hips into me, causing his hard morning wood to rub against my ass, and now it’s my turn to moan.

He’d seemed so eager to fuck me when we talked on the phone, but then last night, it was like he was so desperate for me that he couldn’t possibly slow down to actually get that far. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself because I’m not sure why he wouldn’t want to take things further.

Everything we did was amazing, I just wish I knew what was going through his head. Was there another reason he didn’t want to top me?

“Come on, I should really order a ride share so I’m not late. I never know how long it’ll take them to get here,” I say, finally stretching far enough to reach the phone and turn off the alarm. I try to encourage him to let go of me without success.

“No rideshare,” Beck says with a deep sleepy tone that makes my cock thicken.

“Um, is there a better option?” I ask, willing my dick to calm down because we really don’t have time for anything.

“I’m driving you to the airport,” he says, like I should have already known.

“Oh, that would be great!”

I’m a little surprised by the offer, with how in my head I’ve been about what’s going on between us. Driving me to the airport feels like a boyfriend move. Meeting the family was obviously a big deal, but with Beck, it felt natural—his family is so close with him, and all his friends are practically an extension of that.

But Beck also has money. The kind of money where he’s got people for everything. A driver took us home from the game last night, just like someone chauffeured us to dinner on my previous trip. He even had an employee come to my hotel yesterday to take my bag here so I wouldn’t have to bring it to the game. He’s got people for everything, I’d kind of assumed he never drove himself.

So his offer feels significant.

“No driver this morning?” I clarify with a teasing tone, trying to keep things light. I don’t want him to second guess his offer if he knows I’m kind of freaking out about it.

“Nah, I want you all to myself when I have to say goodbye,” he responds possessively. He leans over to give me a quick kiss on the cheek and a tight squeeze before finally releasing me from his grip.

Not my boyfriend . We’re not dating. He doesn’t do relationships. This is just a fling while I have his attention. I repeat the statements over and over in my head, trying to ground myself as my heart soars at his answer.

Maybe he’d agree to come to Linna for the entire hockey offseason. Viktor seemed okay with the idea when I suggested we show him around headquarters. It’s not a long-term solution, but the summer together would be better than nothing.

Beck grabs my suitcase— not my boyfriend, not my boyfriend —and we take the elevator straight down to a parking garage. I’ve never been a car guy, but the shiny black one we get into looks pretty fancy. It only fits the two of us, with a huge touchscreen display in the front, and it’s really loud as Beck guides it out onto the busy streets of the city.

Beck rests his right hand on my thigh, squeezing it, and I place my hand on top of his. We sit in comfortable silence, and I’m soaking in the moment while we’re still in the same place and can casually touch each other. We pull up to park right in front of a coffee shop, and I look at Beck with a raised brow. “This isn’t O’Hare.”

“You don’t need to be at the airport for at least another hour and a half, we have time for coffee. Or are you that eager to leave me?” he teases as he pays for the parking.

“Definitely not.” I wish I didn’t have to leave so soon, but Viktor scheduled a meeting this evening, and I’m hoping to talk to him more about Beck coming for the summer.

That is, if Beck wants to.

“Would you, maybe, want to come stay with me when the hockey season ends?” I ask as we walk in, sounding far less confident than I’d like to be. I’m nervous to even ask, afraid he’ll brush off the suggestion, or worse, tell me it’s been fun while it lasted, but he actually drove me himself today for privacy while he ends things.

He turns to face me with a hopeful smile as we get in line, which I take as a good sign as he considers his answer.

“I’m not sure how long I can realistically be gone. I’ll definitely need to be here the week of the draft,” he trails off, and I can’t seem to stand still, my leg bouncing as I wait for him to finish.

“But I think I could get away for a while, especially after that,” he says, reaching out for my hand and giving it a squeeze. I grip it tighter, lacing our fingers together so we’re properly holding hands.

“So, is that a yes?” I can’t keep the excitement out of my tone, and he chuckles.

“Yes, I’d love to,” he admits with a smirk, and I feel like I could run a marathon with all the excitement now coursing through my veins.

“Oh my god, I can’t wait! I’ll talk to Viktor tonight about getting you approved as a temporary visitor, and I can show you around headquarters and the town!” He gives me a slightly confused look at that, but I’m rambling now and can’t seem to slow down as my excitement grows. “Oh, you can meet Nick and all of my other friends, and you’ll love how pretty it is! We can go hiking and kayaking. It’ll be the best summer!”

He looks amused, and it’s our turn to order, so we step up and both ask for plain black coffees. Beck insists on paying, and we move to the pickup counter.

“Wait, is this where we first met?” I ask as I finally look around the coffee shop.

“Uh, yeah. I thought it would be nice to come back here, together this time.” He looks down, shifting his weight like he’s nervous. He tries to pull his hand away, but I tighten my grip. “Now I’m wondering if that was weird and maybe we should pretend like it’s just about wanting coffee…” he trails off when he looks back at my giant smile.

“Oh my god, Beck! Is this a sentimental date?” I tease, loving the idea that the man currently glaring at me as he clearly tries to suppress a smile, wanted to take me back to where it all began. He might not want a relationship, but I think he’d make a pretty great boyfriend. Again, that’s not what he is, even if this is totally a date.

“Don’t make it weirder,” he grumbles with a laugh as they call out our names. We grab our drinks and find a place to sit, still holding hands across the table like neither of us is ready to break the connection.

“So is this our second date, or did last night count?” I ask, continuing to tease him.

“Last night probably counted,” he admits, rolling his eyes before he relaxes into a more serious expression. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about meeting everyone. I was just so excited to have you at a game, I didn’t even think to offer a different seating arrangement.”

“It was perfect!” I insist. “They’re truly spectacular, Beck. It was such an honor to meet the people who are important to you.”

I spend some time gushing about how much fun I had yesterday and how incredible it was to meet his family and friends as we drink our coffees. His eyes soften as I talk about them, and I feel guilty for asking him to leave them all for so long. But I try not to dwell on that and think about how lucky I am that he’s choosing to spend the summer with me. My chest feels ready to burst with how special it makes me feel.

This important, amazing, sweet man wants to not only spend his free time with me, but he’s putting in a lot of effort and going out of his way to do so.

I’ve always wanted to feel important to someone in that way. My parents were so busy in their lives and careers that I never had that growing up. Whenever I imagined my future partner, I’d fantasize about them making our relationship a priority. I’d think about how amazing it would be to find someone who just wanted to spend time together and made it happen.

Sure, in the past, I’d always pictured a woman, but that’s only because I didn’t think of expanding my options. Now, when picturing a future, I desperately want that person to be Beck. I just need to figure out if that’s something he could want, too.

I think I’d do anything at this point to make that happen. But now isn’t the time for that conversation.

We reluctantly leave when our drinks are empty, and I ask Beck more about his brothers on our drive to the airport. Now that I’ve met them all, I want to know even more about his family, his childhood stories, what their relationships are like now, and if he thinks they liked me.

When we arrive, I expect Beck to pull up to the departure drop-off lane, but he surprises me and heads into the short-term parking garage. He insists on carrying my bag for me and walking me all the way inside. I only have a carry-on and checked in online, so I can head right to security, but we both linger near the line’s entrance.

“Thank you for coming,” he says softly. “I had a really great time having you there with all of my people. I’m glad they got to meet you, even if it meant I had to share you for a few hours.” I didn’t think it was possible, but I swear his cheeks darken. This broody man is actually blushing. Because of me.

I’m not sure how he feels about airport PDA, but I can’t possibly stop myself after seeing that. I cup his jaw with my hand, tilting his face up for a kiss. I mean for it to be a tame kiss goodbye, but it’s like the moment our mouths meet, I lose all control, pushing my tongue into his mouth and pulling him closer.

He responds with equal passion, trying to take control of the kiss. By the time someone coughs loudly near us, and we break apart, we’re both panting, and my dick is straining against my zipper.

We both burst out laughing, and eventually I take my bag. “I’ll see you soon then?” I ask hopefully, not wanting to say goodbye.

“See you soon,” he agrees with a smile.

I really hope it feels soon.

The flight back is good but uneventful, the people around me are all super nice and help to distract me from how sad I am to be leaving Beck. I try to focus on the positives—that he agreed to come for the summer, and I go into my meeting with Viktor excited to make that happen.

It takes some convincing on my part to get him to approve Beck’s extended stay. Viktor’s a very private person and is always nervous about having people who don’t work for Kyla come to the headquarters. I think he’s worried about someone stealing his ideas or poaching his employees or something.

But Beck wouldn’t do that.

I think it helps that Viktor met Beck in Florida, so he already knows him and the interest he’s taken in Kyla’s programs. He knows Beck isn’t trying to compete with him or anything. Viktor loves it when influential people show interest in Kyla and typically jumps at the chance to use photos of them taking the courses or even just hanging out with him for promotional purposes, so I’m surprised he hesitates to grant the approval.

He asks me some questions about Beck’s intentions, including whether I thought Beck was trying to convince me to leave Kyla to work for him. I explain that Beck and I don’t talk about the details of our jobs, and that I don’t think he’d want me to work for him, and Viktor seems relieved. He also asks how I think Beck might react to the town, the people, and our routines here. I assure him that Beck would love it—because who wouldn’t? They seem like silly questions to me.

Eventually, Viktor agrees that Beck’s influence could benefit the company and approves him as a temporary visitor.

The following day, I’m back in the coffee shop waiting for Nick, excited to update him on how my trip went. He slides into the booth across from me with a giant grin on his face. “Well, how’s your man?”

“Ha ha, sadly he’s still not my anything,” I admit. “He’s never wanted a relationship before.”

“But you want a relationship with him, right?” Nick clarifies, and I bury my face in my hands.

“Obviously,” I say while my face remains hidden.

“Fuck, how would that even work?” he asks, voicing my fears. “It’s not like you could leave Montana, and he sounds pretty established in Chicago from what you’ve told me with his job and family.”

“I have no idea.” I sigh, feeling absolutely defeated, and sit up to take a sip of my coffee. “It was incredible seeing him again, though. I got to meet his whole family and all of his friends at the hockey game we went to. Everyone welcomed me like they’d known me for years. They were all so kind—wanting to get to know me, saying they were so happy that Beck met me. I’ve never felt such a sense of family and belonging outside of joining Kyla,” I admit.

Nick nods along like he knows what I’m talking about. “That sounds really cool, Cody. I hope you guys can work something out, and you can see them again.”

“Thanks. Hey, after meeting his family, I was thinking that you’ve never really talked about yours. Do you get to see them much?” I ask, shocked that I don’t know more about my best friend.

His shoulders sag and he gives me a small smile before shrugging. “You know how it goes. We were never that close, and they didn’t like how much money the Kyla stuff costs. They couldn’t understand the investment,” he explains. “They were really against me moving here, said that I was throwing away my degree, coming to work for the company that ‘I was giving all of my money to’. I haven’t talked to them much since coming here.” He sounds sad talking about them, and I’m even more surprised that it hasn’t come up before. “But if they can’t support what makes me happy, then why should I even want to talk to them?” He adds that last part sounding determined, like it’s what he wants to believe, even if he is still bummed about it.

“I’m sorry, Nick, you don’t deserve that.”

“It is what it is. I’ve heard a lot of similar situations around here,” he says casually, but I had no idea. “It sucks that some people can’t understand what makes their kids happy if it doesn’t align with what they had planned for them.”

I’m so grateful that my parents have always supported me. I might have wished to be more present in their lives, but I know so many people have it a lot worse.

Nick shifts the conversation to something lighter, and I realize how common that is around here—people avoiding heavy topics like we’re afraid to admit when we’re unhappy. Kyla’s programs emphasize finding happiness, but that doesn’t mean we should ignore other emotions.

People have always commented on how positive I am and how happy I always seem. That’s just who I am naturally, and I guess I assumed Kyla attracted more people like me who are naturally optimistic.

But if it took me almost thirty years and someone else pointing out to me that I’m attracted to men, what else have I missed?

That thought leaves me unsettled. Are people here genuinely happy, or are they afraid to express when they’re not? Is there an underlying pressure to always appear content? And does Viktor know about it?

I make a mental note to talk to him during our next one-on-one. For now, I try to focus on the fitness classes Nick is planning for the upcoming week instead of worrying about what else I might have missed.