Sultry in Stilettos (16 page)

He carried her through the room.
Bumping into the couch, he muttered a curse, but got moving,
hanging a left into the master bedroom. When he lowered her to her
feet, she reached for his belt. Fumbling with the buckle, she met
his gaze.

Need and desperation warred
with something else she couldn’t name. When she finally figured out
the complicated buckle, she muttered, “Okay, no more
Guess
belts for your
birthday.”

“I agree.” Beckett brushed her hands
aside and went for the side knot of her dress. “Mm, it’s like
unwrapping a present. I’ve been dying to see you like this ever
since I discovered you wore garters.”

Ricca flushed and suddenly wished
she’d turned off the light—confidence be damned. Even Victoria’s
Secret models had to prefer candlelight. “I’m sure you’ve seen
plenty of lingerie in your lifetime.”

His lips tipped up into
that mischievous smile of his. “I’ve never seen
you
in lingerie.”

Ricca focused as she
slipped one button of his shirt open, then another. Yesterday, she
hadn’t been paying attention as he’d been so busy driving her
insane with kisses. Today, she wanted an up-close and personal view
of his six pack. She’d seen him shirtless at least a hundred times
over the years, but
this
was different.

Once his shirt was off, she froze,
unsure of what to do next. It wasn’t like she was a seductress. She
didn’t do this enough.

As if sensing her discomfort, he
kissed her long and deep until she melted against him again. He
knelt down, and starting at her calves, began a gentle massage.
Ricca held perfectly still until his large firm hands skimmed just
above her knee.

She staggered a little and held onto
his broad shoulders for support. Beckett placed kisses along her
panty line through her dress. Occasionally, his teeth tugged at the
jersey fabric, and she shivered. His hands continued their path,
skimming over her thighs, pausing only to stroke her damp heat with
his thumb. “Do you know that I barely slept, thinking about you in
my arms yesterday? The fantasy doesn’t live up to
reality.”

Hooking his fingers into
her lace and satin panties, he tugged them down an inch, and Ricca
moaned. He traced a line with his tongue over the newly exposed
strip of flesh. Her pulse jacked-up its usually steady
thud-thud
. Every nerve
ending on her body was desperate to feel him caress her, stroke
her. Ricca let her head roll backward as she bit her
lip.

When he slipped them past her calves
down to her feet, he whispered, “Step out of them.”

She did as was told but needed him to
touch her, to do more than look. She needed his touch.

Beckett stood, but kept one hand under
her dress. As he spoke in low tones, his hands traversed a path
back to her sex. “Let me in, Ricca. I want to feel what Brazil is
like this time of year.”

When his thumb slid over her clit, she
widened her stance automatically, and he made a sound from his
throat that sounded like part chuckle and part murmur of
satisfaction. He stroked her, and her knees buckled. Holding her
against him, he continued to caress, gently, teasingly, avoiding
direct stimulation to her clit.

“Hush. It’s okay. I just want to make
you feel good.”

When her knees buckled and she sagged
against him, Beckett lifted her onto the bed. He quickly yanked off
his jeans and tossed them aside, but not before grabbing a condom
from his wallet. Joining her on the bed, he slid his powerful hands
up past her calves and over her inner thighs. When his fingers met
the juncture between her legs, he used his thumb to part the
sensitive flesh. He took his time circling her clit, taking her to
the height of pleasure, then while she hung on the precipice of
ecstasy, he drew back.

Beckett nuzzled her neck, first
brushing his lips against the column of her throat, then sucking
gently before drawing his teeth over her skin.

He continued to stroke her clitoris,
once, twice—and again, just enough to drive her wild, then he
pulled back.

“Beckett. You can’t do this. I
need—”

“Yeah, Ricca? Why don’t you tell me
what you need? I’d love to give it to you.” He kissed his way down
her body, licking and scorching a path to her most sensitive spot.
“I want to see how you taste.” His voice was groggy. “Will you let
me?”

Ricca squirmed and lifted her hips,
but he only chuckled as he slid a finger into her. “Oh, no you
don’t. That would be too easy. Tell me you want me.”

Ricca couldn’t form the words. “I-I
want—”

He slid a finger into her, and she
groaned.

“Yeah, Ricca, what was that?” He did
it again, and she wanted to cry with frustration. He kept up the
motion, but only slow enough to torture her. Not enough to bring
her any release.

“Beckett, I want you to let me come.
Please.”

“Oh, that’s better.” He increased his
rhythm and the pressure on her clit. “There’s just one thing. How
do you want me to let you come? With my mouth? With my fingers?
With my dick? I want you to be specific, so I can make you
happy.”

Ricca wanted to scream. She was so
close, if he would just let her—“All of the above,” she practically
shouted. “I just need you.”

He chuckled. “Happy to
oblige.”

Beckett moved swiftly, replacing his
fingers with his tongue. When he circled her clit, the tingles
began in her toes. Ricca knew from this moment on, he would be the
bar to which she compared all others. He knew how to tune her body.
How to make her quiver. Moving in sure, deft strokes, he licked her
to the edge, and when the tingles moved their way up her body, she
grasped his hair. “Beckett. Oh, God. I’m going to—”

She’d didn’t have a chance to finish.
Cupping her ass in both his hands, he nudged her legs further apart
and feasted.

The orgasm crashed into her so hard,
she seriously worried she might pass out. But Beckett didn’t
relent. He kept stroking and licking. But he backed off her clit,
giving her some time to breathe.

When she finally stopped shaking, he
placed a light kiss on her inner thigh and whispered, “Just like I
thought, you taste sweet.” Beckett kissed a path up her belly, and
Ricca thought she’d died and gone to heaven.

When he reached her breasts, he
frowned. “How in the world did I manage to leave your bra on? It’s
a travesty to keep these covered.”

She exhaled with a chuckle. “Well, I
have to hold them up somehow. I don’t want them hanging at my knees
before I’m thirty.”

“I volunteer my services.”

She grinned. “What, as official breast
holder-upper? Is that a British title?”

“Yes, yes it is. I am Lord
Holder-Upper of Magnificent Breasts.” His expression sobered. “I’m
sorry. About before. If I was too rough. I just saw you with him,
and I lost my shit.”

Her heart stuttered. “I’m okay.
Surprised, but great actually. You’ve certainly got a
gift.”

His easy grin was back. “Well in that
case, let me show you what else I’m good at.”

In one swift move, he lifted her torso
with one hand and quickly unsnapped her bra. The hooks came apart
with a light pop, and her breasts spilled free. “I told you last
night was a fluke. You had me distracted.”

Feeling bold, she grinned up at him,
then reached for his erection and wrapped her fingers around his
girth. He muttered some inventive curses, then growled through
clenched teeth, “Careful what you play with. You could start
something we don’t have enough hours in the night to
finish.”

“A girl can always dream.”

Beckett rolled off of her quickly,
slipped on the condom, and shifted back between her legs before she
could blink. She’d barely even heard the foil wrapper
tear.

“Then by all means, tell me all your
fantasies.”

****

The moment Beckett slid
into her warmth, he knew he was lost. This was Ricca,
his
Ricca. There would
never be any going back now that he knew how good she
felt.

As he dipped his head to kiss her, he
marveled at their fit. Despite her more than generous curves, she
was still so petite. Fragile and vulnerable. He lifted his head and
gazed down at her. He stroked his thumb across her cheek. “You
okay?”

Her eyes were wide as she nodded and
let out a shuddering breath. “Depends. Are you going to stop
torturing me and start moving?”

He chuckled. “And here I always
thought you were so patient.” He kept the pace as slow as he could
manage. Piercing need had tormented him since yesterday, and he was
dying to come. But he would take his time. Make her
feel—

“Beckett, I’m not fragile. You’re not
going to break me. Faster.” She sucked in a breath when he rolled
his hips. “Please.”

It wasn’t until she scored his back
with her nails that his control snapped, and he gave her what she
asked for. Through gritted teeth, he tried to hold on to wait for
her, but she kept whispering his name. Tightening her hold on him
with her legs.

Heat radiated from his
spine, and he knew it was over. The moment he felt her silken walls
twitch around him, he let the blast of heat take over and radiate
throughout his body. As she rode her wave of orgasm, he convulsed
on top of her, his own release wracking his body. The only thought
his brain could muster was
mine
.

Beckett didn’t know how much later it
was when he woke up, his legs intertwined with Ricca’s and his hand
on her breast, with her gorgeous ass wiggling against him. For a
moment, he let himself relish just holding her. He wanted to live
in the uncomplicated realm for just a little bit longer. Where he
didn’t have to deal with the ramifications of what they’d
done.

They were friends. She was
for sure the marrying type. He, comfortable in his position as an
eternal screw-up, was not. He really should have thought this
through better.
But she’s
mine
. His brain couldn’t let go of the
fact that he’d always seen her as his. He’d treated her like a kid
sister to put some distance between them and to force his brain to
register her as a permanent hands off.

When he’d met her in college, she’d
been so adorable and sweet. And the two of them had forged a tight
friendship. The one time he’d thought they might get together,
she’d opted herself out and kept their friendship in the strictly
no-touch zone. But everything had changed with what was supposed to
be an uncomplicated kiss between friends.

All he’d had to do was give her a
chaste kiss on the lips. Instead, electricity had exploded between
them and shorted something in his rational, thinking brain. For
weeks, she’d dominated every thought he had. He could have killed
that asshole, Charles, for dumping her like he did. But if he was
honest with himself…he sort of wanted to thank the moron, because
Beckett probably would have had a nervous breakdown if Ricca had
ever married the guy.

His brain kept stuttering over the
‘now whats?’ and the ‘what nows?’ He tried some of that Zen
breathing crap Ricca always suggested, trying to force his brain to
focus on the moment, before she woke up and he had to deal with the
eventual consequences of that one kiss.

He tucked her in against
him and squeezed tight. All he wanted to do was hold onto her
forever.
Forever
.
Just the word itself had him cringing and his feet itching to run.
But Ricca was different. She understood him. Always had. She was
the one woman he could change for.

As he drifted off to sleep, he
wondered where they could go from here.

It wasn’t
exactly
like she’d run
away. Okay maybe a little. As Ricca took the back stairs up to
Fantasies, she leaned against the railing for support. Like a
coward, she’d run from Beckett. And now, she was killing herself
taking the stairs just so she could avoid running into him in the
elevator, on the off chance he arrived at work early.

Her phone buzzed again.
Another text. From Beckett. She snatched the phone out of her purse
and glanced at it.
We need to
talk.

Shit. All his texts had said something
like that.

“I guess someone’s tired of waiting,”
she mumbled to herself as she rounded onto the ninth
floor.

She’d woken to Beckett wrapped around
her like a cocoon, and for several decedent moments of bliss, she’d
relished being in his arms. But then her brain had started to work,
and she realized that what was in store for her was either a
totally awkward morning-after conversation or an empty bed with
Beckett’s side cold. To her knowledge, he’d never stayed with
anyone he’d slept with. Not once. So she’d made the only decision
she could—she ran to Micha’s.

Jaya would have taken Ricca
in, but it would have put Jaya in the awkward position of having to
put Beckett off when he called. Ricca dragged in a breath. One of
these days she’d stop running from her problems.
But that day is not today.