Chapter Thirteen
McKenna was a vision. Correction, she was always a vision. But today she was a vision from the depths of his desires, from the part he’d locked away the moment he’d met her in the hopes his needs might slink off into the night.
Her vibrant purple hair was splayed across the shiny satin pillow. Breath stuttered in and out of her open mouth. She’d closed her eyes, letting her dark lashes rest. But it was the winding trail of her white headphones down from her ears connected to his phone on the bedside table that was doing unspeakable things to him.
He used the app with the white noise to help him sleep on nights when every mistake he’d ever made swirled around in his head. Never once had he thought it would serve a purpose other than sleep. But he needed to show her how he felt, rather than say it.
Because words were not his strong point. Never had been. He was a man of action, of decision. And sitting on her couch tonight, feeling happier than he ever had, told him something. Maybe his mother was right. There was more to life than chasing success. He craved the security that money afforded him because he’d never been able to get it anywhere else.
But he had enough in the bank to get by. He could delay his project and do it on his terms—slower, smaller. Independently.
And that meant he could be here, now. Instead of chasing the thing he thought he should have. The thing that had never quite felt right, no matter how much he’d tried to make it so. He could have McKenna. Now. Tomorrow. Next week.
Until when…?
Why was his mind already jumping to the future instead of simply reveling in her mostly-naked body? He shook the thoughts out of his head. It was the thrill of being able to cut the strings from his wrists that had his head swirling with possibilities. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
He leaned back and allowed himself to watch her for a moment. The way she pressed her lips together and writhed, as though her body was so alive with anticipation that she couldn’t stay still, made him grow impossibly hard. He rubbed a palm down the front of his jeans, trying to dispel some of the tension there, but nothing short of being inside her would relieve that need. Her eyes snapped open, as if she were trying to figure out where he’d gone.
“I’m not leaving you.” He brushed his thumb over her lips and she smiled, the serene expression socking him straight in the chest. It was as if she understood him even though she couldn’t hear his words.
As Beckett dragged the backs of his knuckles down over the patch of satin covering her sex, McKenna bucked. She was so beautifully responsive. So pliant.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take care of you.”
He dragged the underwear down over her hips and she shifted, lifting herself so that he could undress her. Her knees immediately fell open in invitation. God, what had he done to deserve this? She was even more perfect for him than he’d ever let himself imagine.
Running his hands up the insides of her thighs, he leaned forward. At the first brush of his lips against her sex, she gasped.
“So sensitive.” He blew cool air across her flushed skin and a tremor ran through her.
Her sex was slick, her breathing shallow, and every time he touched her she almost launched off the bed. Nuzzling the inside of her thigh, he breathed in the scent of her excitement. “We’re not going to rush this.”
He wanted to learn every inch of her body. From the delicate bones at the base of her neck, to the tiny little mole hidden in the crook of her elbow. He traced the dip at her waist with his fingertips, loving how her body flared back out again over her hips and thighs.
All the while, her eyes followed him. Her shiny, pink lips parted with each gasp, with each kiss he planted on her body. For once no words came out—but that didn’t mean she was quiet. And thank God. Every gasp and mewl shot fire through his veins, stoking the burning desire that he’d been trying so hard to douse with logic and reasoning.
But there was nothing reasonable about being with McKenna.
He crawled up her body and drew one perfect, pink nipple into his mouth. Gently at first, and then harder, he sucked and rolled the sensitive tip between his teeth. Her hands flew to his head, her nails dragging against his scalp.
“Yes,” she moaned, her eyes screwed shut.
Was this what it was like with her? Every sensation was dialed up to ten. Her skin was silk under his palms, her lips soft and warm when he hovered over her for a delving kiss, groaning when her hips rolled up to brush against where his cock strained against the fly of his jeans.
Her blue eyes sparkled as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, showing him what she wanted rather than telling.
“Not yet.”
He had to taste her first. All of her.
His hands pushed her thighs even farther apart, pinning her legs to the bed. There was no hesitation when he brought his lips to her, no tentative exploration or gentle loving. He was direct and focused his attention right on that sensitive bundle of nerves at her clit. McKenna wasn’t able to remain quiet then; her cries filled his head as she came hard and fast against his mouth, her hips rolling and thrusting up until she’d wrung ever drop of pleasure from her orgasm.
Yes.
The word hissed in his brain, like steam escaping a pot of boiling water. Being with her felt so right. So perfectly right.
He traced circles on the inside of her thigh as she came down from the edge of bliss, joining the dots of the freckles and moles that were scattered like cinnamon across her fair skin.
“You undo me,” he said.
He found himself moving back up to her sex, desperate to taste her again. She writhed beneath him, still sensitive, but the squeak in her throat turned gravelly and breathy. Thighs trembling, she sank her teeth into her lower lip and Beckett had to force himself to concentrate on her lest he finish himself before he’d even got started. He dragged another orgasm from her and this time it was slow and sensual, the tremors lasting longer, her thighs quaking as they clamped against his head.
He eased her legs down and pushed up on his palms. The way she looked at him—eyes heavy lidded with arousal, lips open as she panted—was everything. Leaning forward, he gently tugged the earbuds from her ears.
“I want you to hear this, McKenna,” he said, whispering the words close to her ear. “You’ve got me so fucking wound up seeing you all laid out like that. I want to be inside you.”
Her lip trembled. “I want that, too.”
Standing, he tore his T-shirt over his head. The delicate muscles in her neck moved as she swallowed, and McKenna propped herself up to watch. He tugged on the belt at his waist, freeing it from the clasp and then he slowly drew his fly down. Her eyes tracked every movement.
“More,” she said.
He stuck his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and pulled them down. Then he stripped off his socks and left them with the growing heap of clothing on her floor.
She sucked on the inside of her cheek. “Can I do the last bit?”
When he nodded, she crawled over the bed on all fours and knelt in front of him, looking up. The sharp angle made her blue eyes seem even wider and deeper. He could drown here, standing on the ground without a drop of water in sight. Her fingers brushed over his erection, tracing him through the fabric of his boxer briefs from root to tip. He stifled a moan in the back of his throat as pure, undulated pleasure filtered through him like a drug.
McKenna peeled his waistband down and his cock bobbed up against his stomach. Underwear forgotten, her hands came to him. Stroking, teasing, cupping.
“God, McKenna,” he ground the words out.
She left him momentarily to reach into the drawer beside her bed, and he pulled his boxer briefs completely off. When she produced a foil packet, he held out his hand but McKenna shook her head.
“I want to do it.” She tore the packet open and pulled out the condom, reaching for him with her free hand.
He’d never thought contraception to be something sexy, but the way McKenna rolled the rubber down his length, her fingers forming a tight ring around his cock, Beckett revised his position.
“You make everything feel good,” he whispered.
Reaching for his hand, she leaned back against the bed and pulled him on top of her. “So do you.”
He knelt between her legs and stroked her with his fingers, pumping one and then two inside her. Her back arched and her head lolled against her pillow, her features contorted with pleasure. No matter how much he wanted to string this out—to savor every damn second so that he could hold the memory bright and vivid in his mind—he was already at the edge. When his cock pushed into her, a feeling of completeness rocketed through him. It wasn’t supposed to be right…but it was. He thrust slowly, giving her time to accommodate him, but the second she hummed in pleasure and her fingers curled around his biceps, he knew they would need to go for round two tonight.
There would be time for a long, slow, sensual fucking later. Right now, he needed to push them both over. Together.
“Don’t hold back, okay?” Her lips brushed his ear. “I want it all.”
All? What else was there but this?
Her hips swirled beneath his; she was talking with her body. Showing him what she wanted.
“I won’t hold back,” he gritted the words out as he thrust into her. His muscles tensed as she cried out his name. It was so much better than anything else she could have said, so much more powerful than any long-winded declaration. Any dirty talk. Any whispered demands.
Just his name, the edges cut with desire.
“Beckett,” she groaned again and that final sound pushed him over the edge.
…
They’d lain, tangled in one another, until a sound broke the quiet of their even breathing. A rumble from McKenna’s stomach.
“Hungry?” He propped himself up on one arm and brushed an errant strand of hair from her face.
The gesture was so intimate that McKenna blushed. Which seemed a little silly given what they’d done, but she wasn’t used to hearts and romance around sex. Her ex had always immediately gone to shower afterward. Alone.
“Yeah. Someone distracted me.” She couldn’t help a blissful grin flaring across her lips. “It’s okay. I’ll consider this fasted cardio.”
Beckett leaned forward and brushed a kiss over her cheek. “What do you want to eat?”
“Is it terrible if I say I want awful, so-bad-it’s-good junk food?”
“Okay.” He nodded and pushed up from the bed.
Naked, Beckett was even more glorious than she’d imagined. He was lean, athletic. Not chunky and built like a gym bro, but sleeker. Honed. An efficient machine. Pale golden hair dusted his legs, and made a trail from his belly button stretching down. He had a light smattering on his chest, too.
“You’re staring,” he said, cocking his head.
“Sure am.” She grinned and made a move to get out of bed. But he stopped her, pushing her back down with a firm hand and a firmer kiss.
“I’ll get it.” He jerked his head toward the window. “It’s raining.”
Damn if her heart didn’t melt into a puddle. A man who was incredibly unique and thoughtful in bed, and who was willing to brave crappy weather alone to get snacks…she’d stumbled across Mr. Perfect.
Instead of reveling in bliss, an uneasiness settled over her. She never found Mr. Perfect, let alone managed to convince him that she was Miss Perfect. Why would Beckett be any different?
He stepped into his jeans and pulled them up, tugging his belt tight at his waist. When he was fully dressed, he planted a kiss on her head and left without a word. Quiet, as ever. McKenna sighed and ran her hands over the embroidery on her bedspread, trying to ease the churning in her gut.
This was exactly what she wanted—a guy who was kind, sexy, intelligent. It seemed too good to be true. And he hadn’t explicitly said that he was over his ex, had he? She bit down on her lip, trying to think back. He’d told her to “screw the plan” but that was it. Well, other than saying words were inadequate to describe her.
“Ugh.” She thumped a fist down onto the bed. Why did this all have to be so complicated?
Her phone buzzed next to her bed, a message flashing up on the screen. It was darker now, silent except for the pitter-patter of rain, and the screen illuminated her bedside table.
Kayla: Hi McKenna! I would love to book you for my wedding makeup and for our rehearsal dinner, too. I’d love to treat my mother as well. Let me know if you’re open to that and I’ll send the details through.
Her heart leaped into her throat. Two jobs! This was even better than she could have hoped for. The money would be great, but more importantly, the potential exposure would be huge. She squealed and hugged her phone to her chest. This was it. Her big break.
By the time Beckett returned with their food—an assortment of calorie-laden goodies from a local burger joint—she was filled to bursting with excitement.
“Kayla wants me to do her makeup,” she said, bouncing up and down on the couch as she not-so-patiently waited for him to extract all the food from the plastic bags, which were spotted with water. Much like Beckett himself. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I can. But it’s so exciting. Now I can put something on my website for…for, whatever those things are. Recommendations? Or are they accolades? Like those quote things, you know? Anyhow, do you think she’d want to give me one of those? I hope does. Oh, I’m so excited.”
Beckett smiled and dumped a small paper bag of fries onto a plate that he’d collected from her kitchen. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” She reached for a fry. “I have been holding back on this for way too long. But no more! I’m going to make this business work and then I can finally quit working at CAM-Ready and work for myself. Just like you do.” She looked over the food options and selected chicken nuggets and a cheeseburger. “What exactly do you do, anyway? I know it’s computer programming and business stuff. But what are you working on now?”
He looked up at her, a brow raised. “You want to hear about my app?”
“Sure.” She munched on a nugget. “I’m interested.”
“Oh.” He looked almost…confused. “Well, it’s a wealth management app.”
“What’s it called?”
“WealthHack.” He settled on the couch next to her and grabbed a burger for himself. “You sync the app to your online banking and investment accounts and it gives you reports on spending habits. You can set up alerts to help with budgeting and it provides daily reminders of your financial goals.”
“WealthHack.” She bobbed her head. “I like it. So it’s basically a robot financial adviser?”
He chuckled. “Basically. The aim is for it to become something that financial institutions recommend to people for building better investing habits. But it can also be useful for people who are trying to work their way out of credit card and other types of bad debt, because the app is built to focus on habits. It learns how you spend to provide customized advice on where you can save money to then invest in something that will help you grow your wealth long term.”
“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you talk about anything,” she teased.
He rolled his eyes, but didn’t look upset.
“Seriously though, it’s incredible.” She placed a hand on his knee. “You’re going to make millions. I can see so many people wanting an app like that.”
He chewed, the excitement evaporating from his expression. “That’s if we even see it to fruition.”
McKenna concentrated on her meal, unsure whether to let on that she knew Sherri’s father was supposed to be financially backing the project. But she didn’t want to get Kayla in trouble for spilling the beans. “What do you mean?”
Moment of truth. Would he lie to her?
“Lionus Aldridge, Sherri’s father, was planning to invest in WealthHack.” He cleared his throat. “But he pulled out when Sherri and I broke up.”
“Right.”
It was so hard to tell what Beckett was thinking. He managed to hide his emotions away behind his clear, blue eyes and perfect mouth. There wasn’t a telltale crease between his brows or a downturn of his mouth. Just a mask of neutrality.
“What happens now?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Without that money, there’s no way I’ll get it to market by the date I’d set. I won’t be able to pay the app developers or do any marketing activities. I’ve already lost the office space, because I wouldn’t sign the lease without knowing if I had the funds to pay for it.”
“Can’t you find someone else to invest in it?”
“By then it could be too late, someone might beat me to the finish line.” He sighed. “This business is so competitive and time sensitive. Losing funding at this stage is basically a death sentence.”
It looked as though he was about to add something else, but instead he bit down on his burger. Her heart contracted for him. She couldn’t even imagine how tough it must be to potentially wash so much work—and a fabulous idea—down the drain.
“Is that why you wanted to get back with Sherri?” The question popped out before she could stop it.
She expected him to bite back, to look hurt or upset. Or even to give her nothing. But he surprised her with a guilty twist of his mouth. “It certainly wasn’t the whole reason. I did care about her and I wanted to marry her. At least, I thought I did. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I needed her father’s money.”
“That’s not a reason to be with someone.” She put her food down, her appetite suddenly waning. “I don’t know where this is going, but I can’t promise—”
“Stop.” He set his plate down and turned to her. “I’m not asking you for that.”
She wanted to feel relieved. But uncertainty hung like a cloud overhead. This situation was messy. And emotional mess was not her forte, judging by how she handled her parents and their attitudes toward her. Her stomach twisted and turned.
But she’d asked a lot of Beckett already. And he hadn’t held anything back. Maybe she should enjoy his company and take it slow with the personal stuff. Figure out what her next steps were before potentially jumping in with a “what do we call this?” conversation.
The silence strangled her. Beckett seemed to have retreated into his own head, and had abandoned his food also. Dammit. Why did she have to go and ruin a perfectly good evening with her questions? Maybe she did talk too much.
“Why don’t we watch a movie?” she suggested, flashing him a bright smile. “I’m in the mood for something funny.”
“Sure.” He slid an arm along the back of the couch in invitation and she snuggled into his side, leaning her head against his chest.
She had no idea where they were headed, but something told her to take it slow. To watch her step. Since Operation Self-Love had been officially shelved, she needed a new mission. Operation Figure Out Beckett Walsh was now in effect.