Sultry in Stilettos (23 page)

And she did. She threaded her fingers
through his hair and held on tight.

"Shit, Ricca, You are so
hot."

All it took was one slower lick, and
Ricca knew what was next. She started to quake in his hands. Hot
electric current started in her spine and poured through her body.
The orgasm crashed through her with no mercy.

Beckett shifted up her body, and Ricca
bit her lip. She knew what was coming—what she wanted. The whole
reason she'd been staring at that door for the past forty five
minutes.

When Beckett slipped inside her, she
groaned. The full length of him was almost too much to take. The
skin to skin contact somehow hotter than when they used condoms. He
held her still and panted, his harsh breath tickling her ear as he
whispered, “God. I could stay inside you forever. I need you to do
me a favor and be quiet, okay? I think I might die if we get
interrupted. And you know how you like to shout."

She smoothed her hands down the back
of his tuxedo and smacked him on the ass. He rewarded her with a
grunt and drove home again.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were into
the kinky stuff? I could have been spanking you a week
ago.”

She just groaned. "Beckett,
hurry."

He chuckled. “What was it that I said
about you keeping quiet?" Both hands gripped her hips and held her
tight as he slid his erection home.

Inside, her friends danced and
laughed. Outside, Beckett tickled her g-spot, told her in shushed
whispers how hot she was. Whispered to her about how he wanted to
bend her over the balcony and slip into her from behind. Told her
how she was driving him crazy.

She had officially lost her
damn mind. But God it felt so good. She became so lost in the
sensations of Beckett driving into her and tugging on her nipple
that she didn't hear the
clomp-clomp
of heels. For an
instant, when she did hear them, they sounded like they were coming
through a tunnel. Slowly, she became more aware of the ambient
noise. The voices. Someone calling out to her.

"Ree, are you out here? Damn it,
where’ve you gone?"

Beckett clamped a hand over her mouth
and kept sliding into her. He whispered in Ricca’s ear, "Do you
want me to stop fucking you? If she comes over, we'll have to stop.
It might be hours before we can resume.” He jerked his hips, and
all she could do was let out a ragged moan.

Micha stopped about 15 feet from them.
"Ricca honey, are you crying?"

Ricca’s eyes popped open. The last
thing she needed was her friend to come over here. "Micha, I'm
fine, I just need a minute."

Beckett pounded his hips again, and
she hissed. Lowering his mouth over her nipple, he tugged gently
with his teeth, and she dragged in another sob.

Micha took another step forward.
"Honey, you don't have to hide out there. Come in, we'll send
everyone home and bust out the rocky road. It'll be
okay."

"Micha, do not come any closer. I
won’t be able take it. Please, I just need a—"

"I…" Micha sounded like she didn’t
know what to do. “I don’t want to leave you alone."

"Trust me, I’m embarrassed enough as
it is, please just give me ten, okay? Then I'll come in, and we
don’t have to ruin Jaya's party."

"I—Okay. If you’re sure.”

Beckett chose that time to clamp a
hand on the back of her neck and angle her head back to kiss
her.

“"Y-y-yes. I’m sure."

"Okay. But if you don’t come inside in
ten, I'm coming back to get you."

Ricca held her breath as Micha walked
away, and Beckett took full advantage.

"You'll need to breathe, baby, because
you’re about to come."

He was right. By now he knew her body
so well. The tingles in the base of her spine had triggered a chain
reaction in her body. Her toes had started to curl, and her breasts
ached, and her core felt like it was riding a wave of heat and
fire. "Beckett." She came apart in his arms on a breath. And he
drove in once more before clamping his teeth over her shoulder and
cursing.

He held her tight as his body jerked,
then sagged against her, exhausted. “Damn it, Ricca, you're going
to kill me."

They stayed like that for several
minutes—him still inside her, holding her tight against his body.
She with her legs still wrapped around his waist. Eventually her
breathing slowed, and so did his.

"Beckett, I have to go back inside, or
Micha will come looking for me. I'd rather not have this be the way
everyone finds out about what we’ve been up to."

She felt him twitch, and she worried
for a moment if their magic spell had broken somehow. But he kissed
her forehead and pulled his handkerchief from the breast pocket of
his tuxedo. Gradually, he separated from her, and softly, and ever
so gently, he cleaned her up. He met her gaze. "You better hurry up
and get in there." His voice was grave.

Ricca frowned. What had just gone
wrong? Had she said something? "Beckett? Is everything okay? Did
I—” Her voice squeaked a little, and she recognized the impending
tears. The sting of rejection was hot and instant as it seared her
skin.

He muttered a curse and turned to face
her. He tugged her close. "Yes, everything’s fine. Fantastic
actually. But I don’t want you to have to explain anything.” He
tucked a hand into her hair and took out the pins of her sloppy
side knot. Then he helped her smooth her hair. "The sex hair was
hot, but I don’t want Micha coming after me with an arsenal of
weapons."

Ricca met his gaze, hearing the tinges
of untruth in his voice. She knew him well. Something was wrong,
but he wouldn't tell her now. "I think I’m probably the bad
influence."

He smirked. "I know. You'll have me
behaving like a good boy in no time. What would my friends say?" He
gave her ass a playful tap. "Go on, get in there.”

She walked toward the party, only
turning to look back at him when she reached the door. He leaned
against the railing his head hanging low. She had a feeling that
something in their dynamic had just changed.

****

Beckett fought the compulsion, but no
matter how he deviated from the route, he still ended up on
Robinson Ave, directly in front of Ricca’s building.

She was waiting for him on her
balcony. She still wore her dress, but the killer stilettos were
off, and her hair was down and tousled. He wanted her even more now
than he did at the party.

“I was worried I wouldn’t see you
tonight. I got the feeling I said something wrong on that
balcony.”

Beckett shook his head. “Ricca,
I—”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re acting
weird, Beckett. We’re supposed to talk to each other. I want you to
tell me what’s wrong.”

He was exhausted. All he wanted to do
was hold her. He'd give her the big explanation later. Much later.
Not tonight. "Does it matter?"

She put her hands on her hips. "It
matters to me if I said something to piss you off. I never would
have suggested we do this if I'd thought there was a chance that we
might lose our friendship. So tell me what I said."

"Nothing. It's just been a long night.
Okay? I've never done something like that with anyone. You made me
lose control a little. I'm not sure I like how that
feels."

She chewed her bottom lip, and he
wished she wouldn't. It made him want to kiss her, and if he did
that now, they'd end up with another public display like earlier.
He told her the half-truth and hoped she believed it. He needed
time to think through everything. Braedon was right—he was in love.
It didn’t change anything. All it meant was that it would hurt more
when she realized he was no good. He took another step up. "So what
do you say, can we go to bed now?"

She searched his gaze, and he saw her
acquiescence. She was going to drop it. Though knowing Ricca, she
would only drop the matter for now, but he wasn’t going to argue
with her. If he had a reprieve, he'd take it. Over the balcony, he
kissed her soft lips, and she wound her arms around his neck.
"Yeah, let's go—"

The score of the
Empire Strikes Back
filled the silence around them, and he frowned.
Braedon
. What the hell
did Braedon need now? He’d seen him less than four hours
ago.

Ricca kissed him back. "Ignore the
call,” she mumbled against his lips.

He was inclined to follow her
directions, except the phone kept ringing long after it should have
gone to voicemail.

"I'm sorry. Hold that thought." He
kissed her nose. Yanking the phone out of his pocket, he clicked
answer. "This had better be good, Braedon. I'm busy."

Braedon’s voice was strained. "Sorry
for the coitus interruptus, but Swim on J is burning. We have a
fire."

Fuck
. Beckett’s knees went weak, and he was certain the ground
moved beneath him.

Ricca’s voice filtered through his
consciousness from a long distance away. "Beckett? What's wrong?
You look pale."

Braedon’s voice was clear though. Swim
on J was burning. "I'm on my way."

He hung up with his brother, then
tried to drag in some air. The chilly, dry January air was not
conducive to him settling his lungs.

"Beckett, you’re scaring
me."

He focused on Ricca. "My building.
It's burning down."

Her eyes went wide. "Your apartment
building?"

“No. The swim center. Someone called
it in. It’s burning.”

Ricca placed both hands on either side
of his face. "Beckett, I'm coming with you. Now, stay here one
second. I'm going to grab my car keys." She was back in a flash, or
so it seemed, given he hadn't moved since she vanished inside her
apartment. It helped that her unit was the first one to the
right.

"C'mon, let's go." She tugged gently
on his arm, and it took him several moments to respond on his
wooden legs. Under the best of circumstances, Ricca drove like a
grandma, but this time, she drove like she was Mario Andretti’s
long lost daughter. She parked as close as the caution tape and
gawking onlookers would allow. Fire trucks, police cars, an
ambulance, and passersby littered the streets.

The glow from his building one block
over was enough to illuminate the night sky. It wasn’t a dream. The
damn building was burning. All his plans—gone in a puff of smoke.
Just like that. The rage that boiled over in his chest was
palpable. And the urge to hit something was even
stronger.

His father had to be behind this. Just
out of spite, he'd crushed Beckett's dream. His mother’s dream.
Just for the sake of control.

Once they reached the building, he
tried to duck under the caution tape. He didn't realize how close
he was, until he felt Ricca's restraining hand on his arm.
"Beckett, no. There's nothing you can do about it."

“Ricca, I have to do
something."

“What are you going to do, run into a
burning building? Count your lucky stars there was no one in there
to get hurt. That means it’s just the loss of a
building."

Oh shit.
Braedon
. He scanned the
crowd for his brother and relaxed by degrees when he saw him
talking to one of the policemen. "It's more than that. I've been
saving for years to renovate this place, and the old man, he
just—"

She pinned him with a stare. "You
don’t know anything yet. Do you think your father could be so cruel
and diabolical?"

"In a word, yeah. He'd stop at nothing
to get his way. And this is just the latest step he's
taking."

"Beckett, I don’t think he would do
this. Not when people in the neighboring buildings could have been
hurt. He might be a son of a bitch, but he's not stupid. Burning
the building would mean jail time. Not to mention you and Braedon
could have been inside."

Beckett didn’t need to hear her
rationality right now. He wanted someone to tell him that the old
man was to blame, so he could have someone to direct his anger
toward. "You don’t understand."

"Don’t I? You want something so bad it
kills you inside, and you don’t know how you’re going to make it
happen. But come hell or high water, you push to make it happen.
And the one thing you don’t need to happen comes in and topples
your whole dream? I'm not sure why you think I can’t relate, but
yeah, I’ve been there."

"Then what the fuck do I
do?"

She tipped her chin up. "You determine
if the thing you want is worth it. And if it is, you work even
harder. Go to plan B. But getting yourself killed by running into
the burning building won’t fix anything."

She had a point, but he wasn’t really
in the mood to listen. All his hard work—gone.

"Beckett, we'll rebuild it. We'll make
it what your mother wanted. We'll raise the funds. Do everything we
can and have to. This isn't the end. All you have to do is accept
the help. I'm here.”

She'd said the magic
word.
We
.