Page 15 of Salvaged Heart

15

BECKHAM

I n the ten minutes it had taken me to fight my way to the bathroom, the bar, and back to the dance floor, the same guy I’d seen earlier checking out Anders had swooped in. They were locked together, the stranger’s arms holding Anders back tightly against his chest. One muscular hand wrapped around his waist, the other stroking up and down his thigh in slow passes while he whispered something low in his ear. Anders rocked with him to the slower song that now played. His head tipped back on the asshole’s shoulder, eyes pressed closed, lips parted in a blissful expression.

I stood completely frozen on the edge of the dance floor, my eyes locked on the pair, fighting the sudden urge to throw both sodas directly at them. A dark and wild creature was stirring in my chest, something I couldn’t explain other than the overwhelming feeling of possession.

Mine, it roared.

But that wasn’t true.

Anders was my girlfriend’s stepbrother. He was my friend. But just because some new sort of connection was forming between the two of us didn’t make him mine. Whatever this crazy feeling was, it was misplaced at best.

No, it was justified, I told myself.

It was coming from a place of concern, that was all. Concern that was somehow manifesting as some strange primal feeling I couldn't say I had experienced before. It was just this night, this place. The fact that for the first time since I had met Anders, his entire face was alight with a high caused by no substances at all. He was high on life. I had given him that, and this warm, rolling hurricane of emotions sweeping through me was just in response to seeing this new side of him.

Nothing more…

It couldn’t mean anything more.

I had sworn I would keep him safe, help him get sober, and bring him back to the land of the living. This stranger was threatening that. I didn’t know anything about the dude, but the fact he was at a sober event probably meant he was struggling with addiction too, and it was too soon for Anders to be involved with someone like that. Not that there was anything wrong with being a recovering addict, but the endless amounts of research I had done over the last few weeks all said that for someone new to recovery, entering a romantic relationship with someone else in recovery, no matter what stage, was a bad fucking idea.

What if this guy wasn’t clean at all?

What if he had slipped Anders something in the brief time we had been apart?

Rage simmered in my chest. If he hurt him, if he took advantage of him when Anders was finally living, when he was finally healthy and on his way back to being whole. I’d kill him.

My mind was made up before my brain could insert any logic and reason. My legs moved me across the dance floor in a beeline for the two of them. At some point, I'd gotten rid of our drinks, but I couldn’t be sure if I‘d placed them down or let them drop to the ground. My only thought was getting to him, getting him away from this prick as quickly as possible.

The asshole saw me coming and gave Anders a gentle squeeze, brushing his lips over his ear, eyes locked on mine. “See, I told you.” He smirked, letting go and shoving Anders lightly in my direction before striding away.

I was surprised he hadn’t put up more of a fight, given the way he had been watching Anders like he was edible all night.

Smart man.

“Beck,” Anders’ hand on my chest did little to calm the fury inside me. Even though the fucker had taken the hint and disappeared quickly, a large part of me wanted to chase after him. Hunt him down to make sure he could never come after Anders again. “Beck, what in the world?” His hazel eyes searched my face, looking for some explanation for my out-of-character behavior, but I had none for him.

I was beyond reason.

“You need fresh air,” I grunted, gripping his arm a little too hard and dragging him after me away from the mass of grinding bodies.

“I’m fine. We were just dancing.”

That should have calmed me, but instead, it just stoked the fire to a higher temperature. The thought that Anders had wanted that attention, let that guy rub his filthy fucking hands all over his body and enjoyed it? Goddamn, it made me sick.

“Beck, what is going on?”

We made it out of the crowd, around the bar, to an empty alleyway lined with overflowing recycling containers. The bright stage lights barely reached back here, but enough that a soft, almost heavenly glow fell across his handsome face.

Not handsome—beautiful.

Every inch of Anders was breathtaking.

I didn’t know when I’d started to see Anders that way but now I had seen it, I couldn’t see anything else. Perhaps it was simply the new life that I had breathed into him, but his skin glowed a honey bronze, his eyes glittered with youth and pure joy. His full lips parted as if to ask me something, and I realized that minutes, maybe even hours, had passed, and I had been standing in a deserted alleyway surrounded by trash, just gazing at his face.

I tugged him against me, forcing his chin up so he had to look me directly in the eyes. His hazel orbs widened in either shock or fear, I couldn’t tell, but I no longer had control of my body. Anders’ lips parted softly again, and the overwhelming urge to crush mine to his overcame me. I didn’t have time to analyze this new and confusing feeling. It was so intense I barely had time to growl, “I didn’t like him touching you,” before my hand found the base of his neck, tilting his mouth to the perfect angle as I lowered my lips to his.

I didn’t let them touch, determined for him to decide whether to lean in the remaining millimeter that separated us. Let him decide if he wanted this as badly as I did.

When had that changed?

When had I started wanting him? I didn’t know, but in this moment, this one right now, it was all I could think about. I didn’t know what this meant in the grand scheme of things, but I did know that my heart would stop if he kissed me. And it would break if he did not.

The wave of electricity that shot through me almost made me come undone right there, but Anders froze. “Beck?” His voice the softest brush against my lips. For a heart-stopping second, I thought he would push me away, ask what the fuck had gotten into me, but then he closed the little distance left, finally bringing his mouth to mine.

At first, the kiss was soft and uncertain, barely a whisper, but I took what I could get, greedily swallowing the soft moan that left his lips. If this was all he would give me, it would be enough. It would have to be.

But fucking hell, it would never be enough.

Luckily for me, he seemed to agree, and his kiss became harder, deeper, and downright needy. Hands clutched my shirt, trying to pull me closer as I backed him slowly into the wall. One of my arms came to rest on the brick next to his head. The other cupped his face. His tongue traced my lips, begging to enter, and I parted them, welcoming the invasion. I was rewarded with a throaty moan, and I gulped it down like it was my life force. One thigh pushed between his, my mind having no idea what to do with my body but my heart and soul reaching out for him desperately. I wanted to fuse with him, push into him until we could not get any closer, until we were both melded together.

He rocked against my leg, grinding a slow rhythm. I could feel his cock thickening through both our jeans. I was already impossibly hard.

“Beck.”

My name barely a gasp. My hormone-ravaged mind couldn’t interpret the tone, but he wasn’t pushing me away. That had to mean something.

Nonetheless, I forced myself to check in with him. “Is…is this okay?”

He nodded frantically, a smirk tilting up the corners of his mouth. I kissed it away, desperate for more, but he pulled back again. “I should be asking you that. I didn’t know…”

“Me neither. But seeing his hands on you made me realize…Fuck, Anders.”

Our mouths crashed together once more, his hands sliding slowly down my waist before his finger slipped over the buckle of my belt. “Can I touch you? Beck, fuck let me touch you.”

“Please.” The word came out like a prayer.

That was the last thing I said to him as my mind became lost inside itself. My entire existence shivered as his lips left mine, kissing a trail over the stubble lining my jaw, down my neck. His tongue flicked out to lap at my pulse point as he tore my belt buckle open with a soft ding. Next came the top button of my jeans, followed by the slow, teasing drag of my zipper. Things were happening so quickly but, at the same time, not nearly quick enough. All I knew was if he didn’t touch me within the next few seconds, I might combust completely, and if he did touch me, then I would surely go up in flames.

Anders pulled his hand back, spitting in his palm, his eyes locked with mine as he did so. The act, combined with the look in his sparkling gaze, was so feral it made me whimper with anticipation. My whimper turned into a growl as his long fingers finally dipped inside my boxers and curled around the length of my aching cock, pulling me free. He gave me a few slow teasing tugs from root to tip, watching my face for a response. I moaned at the sensation, his palm warm, grip firm, the slide up and down… fucking perfection . My eyes closed, lost to the pleasure he was bringing me, spiraling into the vortex of emotion racking through my body.

“Eyes open, Beck,” he purred, “I want you looking at me when I make you cum.”

It took me a moment to cooperate, but finally, I forced them open and looked back at him with a hooded gaze. He continued to work me. An addictive combination of long strokes, teasing circles below my crown, and soft passes over my tip. I was already so fucking close.

He had never looked as gorgeous as he did right now, completely lost in bringing me pleasure. Bringing himself close to the edge as he continued to grind himself into my thigh. If I had been braver, if I had any clue what I was doing, I would have taken control, released him from his jeans, and jacked him at the same time as he pumped me. Instead, I was paralyzed, one hand gripping his hip so hard I was probably leaving bruises, the other mapping the lines of his perfect face.

I traced my finger over his lip, and to my shock, he parted them, sucking it deep into his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head at the act, his body beginning to shake as he rode the edge of pleasure. It was enough to pull me over the edge of mine. I came hard and fast, ropes of thick cum cascading over his fist, his name falling from my lips in a soft cry. I don’t think I have ever cum so hard in my life.

“Let me…you.” I could barely think in complete sentences, let alone get one out, but the need to bring him the same release he had brought me was a burning need. Almost as strong as the one that had led me to kiss him in the first place. My fingers awkwardly fussed at his belt, but he had fucked the coordination right out of me, and I couldn’t quite get it undone.

“Beck, Beck. You don’t need to. I’m good.”

“You didn’t…”

“I most certainly did.” He smiled, pressing his forehead to mine.

For several minutes, we just stood, him still caged against the wall, the two of us gasping at the same air with eyes closed while we returned to earth.

“Anders…” I didn’t know the end of the sentence, but I desperately wanted him to understand what this had meant to me. All the confusing feelings that were overwhelming me, all the insane thoughts buzzing around my brain. But I didn’t know how to put those thoughts and feelings together. I didn’t know how to communicate that the craziest thought of all was that this didn’t scare me. Being with him didn’t scare me at all. It felt utterly and irrevocably right.

But it took too long for me to find the words I needed, and a look of horror spread over Anders’ face as he came back into himself. He yanked his hand back, it still covered in my release, and looked desperately around for something to wipe it on.

“Here,” I grabbed the first thing I saw, a filthy bar rag that lay on top of a nearby crate. He made quick work of cleaning himself off and adjusting as I tucked myself back in and gave him some space. I could feel the panic rising in him like an uncontrollable wave. At any moment, it would surely pull him under. I needed to say something. I had to break this silence and let him know it was alright. We could talk about it. I wanted him, but if he didn’t want me, that would be fine. I’d move past it. Never bring it up again. This didn’t change me being there for him. My help and support were not conditional. But I was left gaping like a fish, each thought evaporating before it could reach the surface.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, shame shadowing every perfect line of his face. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know…”

I shook my head, trying to tell him there was nothing to be sorry for, but before I could, Anders turned on his heels and ran.