Page 14 of Beckett the Bad Boy

Function over form.

His arms wrap around my waist, silver eyes studying my expression as I look around the room. It’s a decent size with a huge king bed centered on one wall.

“Are you sure you're okay with this? You can change your mind at any time.” Beckett’s quiet voice interrupts my obvious inspection.

“I want this. Promise.” I lift up to press my mouth to his and silence the nagging worries in the back of my mind.

Because Idowant this.

It's only fear of the future that has my stomach tied in knots.

Worry for when he moves on to someone else.

Because this is Beckett Caldwell we’re talking about.

The Suitor’s Crossing bad boy.

He literally leaves town for hook-ups because they’re so prolific.

Which reminds me.

Rearing back, I quickly ask, “Healthwise… I’m good. What about you?”

“Tested regularly. We’re in the clear.”

I release a breath of relief before Beckett retakes control of the kiss and backs me into his bed.

We flop down onto the mattress in a chaotic heap.

Hands, tongues, teeth.

His palm slides expertly underneath my shirt to unhook my bra, and soon I'm naked from the waist up. The man has had some serious practice undressing a woman.

Stop thinking about his past.

“Goddamn, you're pretty,” he whispers in awe, and a bit of my self-consciousness fades away.

“Your turn.” I tug on his shirt with trembling fingers.

Unlike me, Beckett has abs for days. It's evident how hard he works to remain in shape for his job.

“Wow,” I say dumbly. My fingertips trace the deep indentations of his muscular stomach, drifting over the ‘V’ lines leading to his groin.

“Like what you see, baby?” he teases, thrusting into my tentative grip around his boxer-brief-covered dick.

Licking my lips, I nod, words escaping me.

“Me, too.” Beckett groans, and his fingers toy with the button of my jeans, waiting for my silent consent.

I give it to him with one quick nod.

There's the rasp of the zipper then cool air wafts over my bare hips and thighs. The man is dragging my panties off with my jeans, and a wave of nervous anticipation crashes in my veins.

“Oh my God,” I gasp after the first confident press of Beckett's thumb on my clit.

“This is only the beginning.”

He kisses down my collarbone and nips at my nipples with his teeth before licking the sting away. Before continuing his southern trajectory.