Page 45 of Changing Lanes

Even though he deserves it, I leave my jacket unzipped and open in the front so it won’t rub him raw and lean as far forward as his back allows until his shirt and mine are fused together into one thin cloth between our hot bodies. Beckett’s muscles tense when I slide my hands along his sides then I wrap my arms around his solid chest, squeezing hard. My thighs are spread as wide as they can go, just shy of painful, making me glad I wore shorts today.

Beckett quickly busies himself backing out so I rest my head against his shoulder blade. Typical male, he doesn’t know where we’re going and refuses to ask for help, instead just blundering ahead and hoping it’ll all work out in the end.

I’m not stupid. I know why we’re taking his bike today. He’s worried I’ll dig into what happened this morning, or in his past, but going off what I saw in his room, I don’t think I want to know. The day I ask about his life is the day he’ll ask about mine and I have no intention of letting Beckett anywhere near my personal business. I’ve already witnessed four grown men buckle from the pressure of my mother’s disease, I won’t put that on anyone else’s shoulders—regardless of how sturdy they might’ve felt beneath my hands last night.

It’s a heavy load and I’m bearing it the way everyone obviously expects—alone.

The exit approaches and it finally dawns on him that he has no idea which way to take.

Biting my lip, I stifle a snicker.

Beckett’s head turns and I hear his muffled voice demanding directions. It would be too easy to give him the address and I don’t feel like going easy right now considering I didn’t even want to ride back here to begin with. So, I run my right hand down his abs, relishing the way his muscles tighten as I go, until I reach his hip. His work pants are stretched over his thick thighs and I slip my hand over the bulging muscles there, too.

Beckett’s breathing halts while mine picks up.

Once I find the inside of his thigh, I spread my palm flat and squeeze to signal which direction to turn. Beckett only sits there for another moment, not reacting whatsoever so I squeeze again and return my hand taking the same path back to his torso.

His head drops then, shaking slightly, before raising to make a right.

Good boy.

The rest of the ride continues with my silent directions and soon we arrive at the first bar my brothers ever let me visit, Xen’s. Them being friends with the owner is the only reason I was allowed in then and still allowed in now at only twenty. Jesse and Dixon graduated together and he makes it a point of reminding everyone within ear shot whenever I stop in. Hence why I had Evan as my designated driver last night. He was the only one Dixon approved of, probably thinking I’d scare the poor boy off before he had a chance to get his pants unbuttoned. Turns out Beckett beat me to it with his concerned roommate act. It was probably for the best considering I came pretty damn hard all on my own. I doubt that guy even knows where the clit is, let alone how to work one. Luckily, my vibrator is phenomenal at doing just that.

Just ask Beckett.

I’m full on chuckling when he pulls up next to my baby girl. Unfortunately, Beckett’s thunderous face ends my amusement once I’m back on the ground.

“What the hell was that? Are you trying to make me come in my pants like a fucking teenager?”

Oh. That.

I make the mistake of grinning and Beckett growls, like literally growls. Instead of scaring me like he intended though, I lose the fight trying to contain my laughter, sending me into near hysterics. My head is thrown back in the hardest laugh I’ve had since one of my friends, Shan, wrecked his bike on the first day of owning it. The guy scraped the entire left side of his Audi, essentially fucking up both rides at once and I almost peed myself laughing so hard that day. It was funny in a pathetic kind of way. Just like this.

A few thigh squeezes is all it takes to get Beckett off? I file that information away for later use. It seems like it could come in handy.

And…that sends me into another fit of laughter all over again.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” I throw my hands up, biting my cheek.

Beckett rolls his eyes as he stands to his full height, adjusting himself. Sometimes I forget how tall he is until moments like this when his close proximity reveals the mountain he truly is. One I was all too eager to scale last night thanks to my effort at forgetting my clusterfuck life.

He adjusts his dick unabashedly and even as he catches me looking, I don’t shy away. He almost brought me to orgasm last night with that impressive package. I’ll gawk as I see fit. And I. See. Fit.

“It’s bad enough I had to jerk off like a fifteen-year-old all over again, I don’t need to add shooting my load before penetration, too.”

My eyebrows skim the clouds.

“Oh, you thought you were the only one getting off last night?”

I shrug noncommittally making Beckett scoff.

“Tell me what you were thinking about as you fucked yourself and I’ll tell you what I pictured when I nutted outside your door.”

Holy shit. This guy’s mouth is as dirty as it is tempting.

My eyes raise to it all on their own to see his tongue drag along his bottom lip before biting the whole thing into his mouth. My thighs clench and I wish I was on my bike so I could get the hell out of here already.

I wanted a distraction, right? Beckett checks that box with all the dependability of a number two pencil. He’s been one constant, long distraction since I moved in but he shouldn’t be. Not for me. He needs someone that has the time to open up whatever the hell he has tucked away from the general public.