Victim of Love (23 page)

He stared at me, a frown pinching his brows. “Yeah. You too.”

I smiled, nodded, then turned and headed off down the road.

I’d just turned the corner at the end of the street when I heard footsteps coming up fast behind me. “Olsen!”

Turning back, I watched Beck coming toward me. I waited until he reached me, still wearing that frown. “What’s up, Beck?”

He stopped before me, studying my eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

My patience fled then, and I turned away. “Oh Jesus, don’t start that shit again.” I walked away.

Beck grabbed my arm and spun me around. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not pretending, I’m not playing games. Seriously, did I do something wrong? You seem upset.”

“Not everything is about you. I just had a bad night, Beck. It’s not your concern, so don’t worry about it.”

He let go of my arm. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Sorry I asked.”

I turned and headed away again. I glanced back once. Beck was standing where I left him, watching me. I kept walking. “Jesus Christ,” I whispered. “Someone cut me a break.”

Seeing Beck was the last thing I needed tonight. It was because of him that I’d fucked up my date with Evan, even if he wasn’t directly responsible. I just needed to be away from him. Seeing him for just those few minutes had my stomach all tangled up again. I wanted him so badly that I was starting to hate him for it.

But it was my own fault. I’d done this to myself. Sure, let’s take risks! Throw caution to the wind because
passion!
It will be fun, I’d told myself on that beach. It will be
worth
it. How much damage can Beck really do to my heart in just a couple of days, after all?

I’d just reached my apartment, about to climb the stairs up to the porch when I heard my name called again.

“Olsen!”

I looked back, sincerely aghast to see Beck speed walking up the sidewalk toward me, looking slightly angry.

Why can’t this guy stop torturing me?
Did he not realize what his presence did to me? That just looking at him made my heart hurt and turned my brain into custard pudding?

When he reached me, I said, “Are you lost or something? Want me to call you a cab? You need some spare change or—”

“Shut up, Olsen.” Grabbing my shoulders, he pushed me against the porch railing and leaned his body into mine. “Damn it.”

My heart began to pound, the warmth of his body and the closeness of his mouth making it hard to breathe. “What?” I managed to squeak out. “
What
, Beck?”

His hand cupped the side of my face, thumb stroking across my chin. “Olsen,” he said so softly I barely heard him. Then he kissed me.

His kiss was savage, devouring my mouth, body pressing into me hard. His hand slid back and gripped my neck, tugging my face closer as his tongue tangled with mine. A whimper escaped me and my arms wrapped around him, kneading his back, my hips tilting into his as my cock hardened in record time.
What is happening?

“Get a room,” some guy shouted as he breezed by on a bike.

Beck pulled back and held my face in his hands, his breathing labored. “I like his idea,” he said.

I struggled to catch my breath. “Why are you doing this?”

He frowned, running a thumb across my lower lip. “Because you’re a little shit. And I can’t stop wanting you.”

I shivered, closing my eyes. “Beck, I don’t think we should—”

“Please,” he whispered, nuzzling my neck. “Please. Don’t say no.”

“Are you saying you want to come inside?” I asked, his mouth on my neck raising gooseflesh on my arms and hardening my nipples.

“So bad,” he said as his mouth moved to my ear. “I want to come inside so bad.”

I shuddered. “You want to play make believe again.”

He eased back and looked me in the eye. “No. No more pretending. This time it’s gonna be real.”

I forced a chuckle. “Are you capable of that?”

Finally, his smile returned, melting me. “I think I might be capable of it with you,” he said, and pulled me in close. “I know I’m not a safe bet, Olsen, and I can’t make promises to you, so I’ll understand if you tell me to fuck off and leave you alone. But I’d like to try. Try to be real with you. If you’ll take a chance on me.”

I’m going to regret this
I thought, right before saying, “Let’s go inside.”

Chapter Thirteen

Dancing in the Dark

Scenes in movies where a couple begins tearing each other’s clothes off the moment they get through the door always struck me as silly and overly dramatic. But that’s because I didn’t get it. I’d never wanted anyone that much, so much that being kept from touching them for one more second felt like torture.

Until now.

We’d barely gotten the door closed, lights still off in my apartment, and Beck and I were fused together, kissing, touching, struggling to get closer. I pulled at his tie, but nearly choked him. “Hang on.” Beck laughed. “I’ll do it.”

Loosening his tie, he pulled it off, then slipped out of his suit jacket. He was on me again in seconds, and my legs knocked into the coffee table behind me. “Table,” I said as he caught me around the waist so I wouldn’t fall. “I should probably turn on the light.”

“We can save the tour for later,” Beck said, stripping me out of my shirt then running his palms over my chest. “Just take me to your bed.”

Taking his hand, I led him down the short hallway and into my bedroom. The blinds were up so it wasn’t as dark as it had been in the living room, and Beck paused just inside the door, unbuttoning his shirt as his eyes darted around the room. “Wow.” He made a show of running a finger along my dresser. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bedroom this clean that belonged to a guy your age.”

I closed in on him and went to work on his zipper. “Have you ever seen dust under a microscope?”

“No.” He shrugged his shirt off, exposing those shoulders I’d been drooling over at his house earlier in the day. “Should I?”

“No. You really shouldn’t. It’s nasty.” I ran my hands over his shoulders after getting his pants undone. “Not the good kind of nasty.”

Beck groaned as I kissed him, fingers traveling to the button of my jeans. He released my mouth with a hard breath. “I want you naked and underneath me immediately.”

As we moved to the bed, we both stripped out of our remaining clothes. I stared at Beck’s nude form in the moonlight as I pulled the blankets back. I could hardly believe that I had him here in my apartment, in my bedroom. My vacation fantasy, here, back at home, solid and
real
.

“Where are your supplies?” Beck asked, still standing by the bed as I climbed in.

“In the drawer there,” I said. “In a hurry?”

Smiling, he fished through the drawer, finding my stash of lube and condoms. “I’m only in a hurry...” He squeezed some lube onto his fingers, then looked at me. “To make sure you don’t regret inviting me to your bed tonight.”

Beck climbed onto the mattress and eased over next to me. For close to a minute he weakened me with deep, wet kisses, then his hand was between my legs, slippery fingers spreading my cheeks. Staring down at me in the darkness, his eyes stayed locked on mine as two fingers penetrated me. As he worked them in and out, I held his heated gaze, a rush of feeling blowing through me, and not just down below where the magic was happening.

Having Beck stare at me in that hard, serious way while he pleasured me with his fingers did something to me I’d never experienced. I doubted there was a word in any language to describe it. Surrender came to mind. Weakness. I’d always of thought the word
weak
as a negative thing, but this was as far from bad as you could get. In that moment, this man owned me completely. It was an edge of pleasure and pain, that moment when your body doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. My breath stuttered as I inhaled, lashes fluttering when his expert touch hit the nerves inside, lighting me up with a power surge below the waist. “Kiss me again,” I begged. “Please.”

Beck smiled slightly, biting his bottom lip. “Not yet,” he whispered. “I want to look at you.”

Silenced, I continued to hold his gaze, breathing heavily.

“I like watching your expressions change.” His fingers slid in and out of me with agonizing slowness. “To see what I’m doing to you. It’s so hot, Olsen.”

Groaning, I clenched around his fingers, the sultry tone of his voice arousing me further. Part of me wished we were playing our vacation game just so I could hear him say he loved me again. But if this was real, as he’d promised it would be, I knew I wouldn’t hear those words tonight. It was an acceptable sacrifice.

Fumbling under the blankets, I found his hardness and gently stroked him, then I knew what Beck meant about watching my expressions change. With each run of my palm up his length, his pretty eyes narrowed and a breath whistled out of him. His lips parted and finally his eyes closed. “I’m ready to kiss you now,” he said. “Kiss you while I fuck you.”

His words sent a blast of pleasure through me, hardening my cock.

Beck’s eyes opened. “Are you ready for that?”

I nodded. “So ready for that.”

His fingers slipped out of me. I stretched back on the pillows while Beck got a condom ready. I shamelessly stared at his bare ass, then kept my gaze low as he turned around, his sheathed cock full and pointing at me.

“See something you like?” He grinned and climbed in beside me.

“Something I want,” I huffed as he rolled on top of me.

“Something I’m more than willing to give you.” Beck gripped the back of my leg and hiked it up to his hip, making me gasp.

His body went still, holding me there, pinned. The head of his cock rested against my entrance, warm and solid, but not moving.

“If you keep staring at me like that,” I said, “I’m going to come before you even get inside.”

All at once, his mouth fell upon mine as he slid inside me. My mouth opened to him and I puffed a breath into his when that hot tongue found mine. He eased himself into me to the hilt, then held it there while he kissed me. My leg was tugged up again by his strong arm, and as my ass lifted off the mattress, he pulled his hips back and came down on me hard, making me whimper.

“Olsen,” he whispered against my lips, then devoured my mouth again as his hips started a slow, hard rhythm.

Beck mounting me, penetrating me, moving with me in the moonlight room, it felt like a fantasy, but something about it felt so right and normal, like he was always meant to be here in my bed. He plunged into me over and over but still kept the rhythm slow, our mouths locked together, my arms holding his back, relishing the shift of muscle under skin as he moved. It was languid and tender and romantic, yet still hot and desperate, both of our breathing becoming more labored as he rode me.

Beck’s mouth tore from mine and he looked down at me. “How close are you?”

“Close.”

“Me too.” He shifted back onto his knees and reached under me, lifting my legs up and putting them over his shoulders. “Need to fuck you hard and deep now.”

I could feel my orgasm ready to push through the gate, making my cock leak, and knew a few hard thrusts in this position would bring it fast. “Do it,” I said, pressing my palm down on my cock. I inhaled sharply. “Please, do it now.”

Holding my hips, Beck pumped into me, slapping against me, muscles straining and rippling his stomach.

“Oh God,” I said as the pleasure took hold, spreading through my balls and up my channel. I gripped my cock and stroked in time with his thrusts. “Oh, God, Beck!”

“So hot and tight all around me,” he said, his head falling back. “Feels so good to be buried in you. God, I’m gonna come.”

I had no more words as thought deserted. My body jerked on the mattress as Beck snapped his hips, doubling his speed and slamming into me hard. I tightened around him as my prostate lit up, my fist pumping myself faster, then I was blasting off somewhere outside of myself, riding a wave of bliss. A splash hit my chest and it wasn’t the last. I shot again and again, deep, desperate cries tearing out of me. No one was listening this time. No one sleeping down the hall that we had to be quiet for. And I didn’t hold back, screaming my pleasure with abandon.

My cries seemed to push Beck over the edge as suddenly his body jerked, muscles contracting as he let out his own howl, then he was coming, pumping into me erratically, his fingers painful where they dug into my thigh, warmth inside me as he flooded the condom.

When Beck finally released my legs, he fell down onto me with a thud. I smiled, stroking his sweaty back and listening to his labored breath, pleased that he seemed as husked out as I was.

“You’re sticky,” he mumbled into my shoulder, wiggling on top of me, our stomachs sliding.

I laughed.

“Stop laughing,” he said. “Now you’re just spreading it around more.”

“You’re the one wiggling!” I ran my fingers down his back and squeezed one ass cheek. “Are you really freaked out by a little semen on your stomach?” I said. “I’m
sure
it’s not the first time.”

Beck rolled over and lay beside me. He gently touched my stomach, fingers swirling around in the sticky mess I’d made. “Nothing about you freaks me out,” he said softly. “Well, nothing physical anyway.”

I studied his face in the shadows. “What does freak you out about me?”

His eyes shifted my way. Then his nose wrinkled as he grinned. “Have you ever seen sperm under a microscope?”

I sighed at the abrupt subject change, but couldn’t help smiling when he was giving me that grin. It was boyish and devious. “Yes, Beck. I’ve seen sperm under a microscope. Lots of times, actually.”

“What does it look like?”

I shrugged. “Pretty much how you’d expect. Like a bunch of transparent tadpoles tweaking out and dancing at a rave.”

“I bet my sperm are better dancers than yours,” he said.

I let my mouth fall open. “Why, pray tell?”

“Because you’re such a neat and orderly person. Your sperm are probably doing the white man sidestep, all stiff like this.” He sat up and held his arms at his sides, jerking back and forth.