Page 22 of Beckett the Bad Boy

I plunge forward with a harsh grunt and grit my teeth when her hot sheath constricts around me.

“Shit!” The vibrator wobbles in my hand, but I recover and shift it so her clit gets the brunt of the vibrating waves, while my cock fucks into Beth's pussy. “I'll give you more, baby. I'll give you everything.”

The declaration should scare the hell out of me, but I'm too focused on ruining Beth for any other man.

Too obsessed with the bounce of her generous curves and screams of pleasure as she comes again.

Toowreckedby this beautiful woman as my own orgasm erupts to do anything but thank god, she'smine.

CHAPTER TWELVE

BETH

Beckett’s grandfather wraps me in a warm hug the moment I step into his cabin for the weekly Caldwell dinner.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Beth. Kennedy has mentioned how talented you are, and she’s not the first one to sing your praises.”

“Oh, well, thank you.” I had no idea people knew who I was.

Minor City Hall employees don't warrant as much attention and name recognition as someone like the mayor or a city councilperson. At least, not in my experience at my old job.

“She's amazing, right?” Beckett's hand lands on my hip and tugs me into his side for a quick peck to my temple.

I wouldn’t have pegged him for a PDA kind of guy, but he’s been surprising me at every turn, so maybe I need to let all of my preconceived notions about him go.

Forget about the bad boy reputation I’ve heard around town.

The one that made me originally call our hook-up a one-night stand.

Because the flirting at the cook-off happened.

Then last night—literally the kind of intimacy I've dreamed of—destroyed my reservations.

Then there was today.

A day spent exploring with Beckett. Wandering down the Main Street shops. Enjoying meals at Crossing’s Cups & Cakes and Daffodil’s.

He even took me to the infamous Suitor’s Crossing bridge whereheart sparksoriginated!

That’s not a casual move.

Especially when it culminates in an invitation to a private family dinner.

Right?

Kennedy is up next for a hug, her curious gaze bouncing between me and her brother. “This is unexpected but not unwelcome,” she whispers in my ear. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Me, too.” Though I’m a little embarrassed about springing my relationship with her brother on her.

Does forty-eight hours of sex, fun, and flirting qualify as a relationship?

“Alright, Ken, let the rest of us say hello to Beckett’s girl.” Soren, the eldest sibling, joins our growing group in the living room, and a flush of self-consciousness sweeps over my cheeks.

Am I Beckett’s girl?

I’d like to be, but a one-sided crush is all I’ve had for months.

It takes two people for that claim to work—me, the willing claimee, and Beckett, the willing claimant.