Page 113 of Changing Lanes

“Fine.” He laughs. “Kind of. I’m kind of kidding. But I need-” His fingers tighten on my jaw. “I want you. If I only get you for half a night or two hours or twenty minutes, I swear someone’ll have to pry my fingers off you one by fucking one before that time is up. Give me the chance to show you why, okay?”

My eyes search his.

Why?

I already know my reasons why. But despite my best efforts I really want to know his, too.

“Ok-” His lips crash against mine, silencing my verbal answer but igniting my body’s response.

One hand in my hair—grappling, claiming—Beckett lifts me off my feet then walks us the rest of the way with only one hand on my ass to hold me up. It helps that I’m glued to him like a spider monkey and soon we’re almost to the crew’s tents. I try to pull back so he can see better but Beckett’s not having it. Instead, he sculpts his hand to the back of my head, keeping me in place while maintaining a punishing pace of lip service. Without so much as breaking for breath, we make it back to his tent all in one piece.

The man is a multitasker, I’ll give him that.

“What the fuck is all this?”

My eyes fly open to find him scowling inside and following his gaze, I cringe. Shit.

“It looks like a unicorn puked all over the place.”

“We needed somewhere to get ready.”

To keep Angela away from Coty, we avoided their tent altogether. Beckett was occupying Marc’s, so his was the only logical place for us to get dressed. I don’t think any of us could’ve predicted how messy the glitter would be though. It could pass for a mythical crime scene in here. Unicorns, fairies, and sprites, oh my.

“Were you naked?” he asks as I’m dropped onto the bed with Beckett following, positioning his body overtop of mine.

“Yes. In fact, we all stood naked in a circle throwing handfuls of glitter at each other just hoping some of it would stick. The more crevices the better.” I’m actually not that far off. Aside from the naked crevices part. Ew.

We stare at one another for a beat until my lips quirk making us both laugh out loud.

“Why didn’t you say so?”

Beckett lowers his mouth to mine again, placing a tender kiss to the corner of my lips.

“All this for a shirt?” I tsk.

I chase his lips with mine when he pulls away to look down at me, all traces of humor gone.

“It was never about the shirt. It was always about the girl in it.” He guides the shirt over my head slowly, taking his time admiring every inch of my skin as it’s revealed. “And now out of it. Were you like this all week?” he asks, scanning my thighs and stomach.

There are still some faint hickeys here and there that haven’t healed completely. Luckily, the darker ones were easily hidden under my work uniform while I had to use foundation to cover the lighter ones on my neck.

“Yes,” I sigh, acting put out. I hated the extra effort toward hair and makeup this week but not the markings covering my body. I didn’t hate those at all.

He leans down to swipe his lips across a yellowish one by my hip, and says, “I like that. I like that a lot.” The last part comes out jagged, like the glass in my throat.

A choked sound breaks the silence as he makes his way to my bare chest.

“Fuck, dream.” There’s that name again. “You were walking around without a bra on? Had I known that I would’ve dragged your ass back here sooner.”

Just as I open my mouth to ask him about his little pet name, he drags his palm down my neck between my tits all the way to my belly button and another hiss comes out instead. His fingers hover at the top of my panties with the same gleam in his eye I’ve seen a time, or two, before.

My knees raise on their own accord but he looks back up at me, hunger leaking out of his every pore.

Oh, goddamn.

The rip of fabric is all I hear before my panties are tossed to the side like the trash they now are.

“Beckett!” I scold, just as he drops to his knees at the end of the bed, tugging my ankles to bring me to him.