Page 114 of Heartsmashed
BY THE TIME we made it back to the cabin hours later, my face hurt from smiling. And not the fake smiling either, which was an important distinction to make because I’d spent a lot of time and energy trying to convince everyone I was okay when I wasn’t.
This was different, though. It was real and genuine, like the version of Beckett I’d finally met.
I’d thought walking back into the reception with him would feel strange, and maybe it did for the first few seconds. Then my brothers spotted us from across the room and immediately clocked our joined hands, which had Hudson giving Beckett a terrifying look that had probably shaved a couple of years off his life. Rome was much less intimidating—in a different way—and mouthed,Hey, Tracksuit,before shooting us a wink.
My moms hugged us both, and Mama whispered, “I’m proud of you,” in my ear, which almost took me out. Until Mom looked at Beckett and said, “You’ll be careful with him,” which, if it were me, might’ve sent me running for the hills. But Beckett only nodded and said, “I will,” like he understood it was less a request and more a demand that shouldn’t be disobeyed.
After that, the night was easy in a way I hadn’t expected it to be. The two of us fell back into that natural rhythm we’d had since the day we met, only now there wasn’t a lie hanging over our heads. We danced. Laughed through the toasts. We even haggled the DJ into letting me take over for ten minutes and scored another five during his bathroom break, which I considered a major victory for the crowd.
At some point after dinner, Hudson leaned in to tell me, “Your ex is gone,” and that was when I realized I hadn’t noticed Peter’s leaving with Alec. I hadn’t even cared—because Beckett was beside me. Not the man I’d hired or the one I thought I’d brought here. Just Beckett. Sports therapist for the NCAA, which meant I needed to learn about basketball, stat. Terrible equestrian, which even Duchess would agree was an understatement. Not an escort, thank God. And apparently very interested, which made two of us.
And…mine, maybe, if I didn’t scare the shit out of myself thinking about it too hard.
Beckett’s hand was warm around mine as we climbed the porch steps back to the cabin hours later, and I couldn’t deny that now that we were alone, butterflies had erupted low in my belly.
It was ridiculous, I knew that. But maybe it was the fact that I knew what was happening between us wasn’t just confined to this week. This was going to be more, and that was both exciting and scary as hell, knowing I could give this man the power to hurt me.
But I guessed that was why they called it falling in love. You had to fall…and hope the person you chose was there to catch you.
As I unlocked the cabin door and pushed it open, I knew I was ready. Beckett could choose to walk away at any point, just like Peter had, but he was proving over and over again that hewanted to be here. With me. He’d made that leap without any promises I’d be there to catch him, and now it was my turn to choose.
We stepped inside, and there was no awkward pause or careful distance. No dancing around the fact that we’d left the reception before the rest of my family, because this was exactly where we’d wanted to end up.
Beckett shut the door and turned the lock, and when I looked over my shoulder, the man staring back at me made my breath catch. His tie was hanging loose around his neck, shirt open at the throat, and his sleeves still rolled up those strong forearms. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes, the one that told me he’d been waiting all night and wasn’t about to waste another second to get his hands on me. Our reunion, just the two of us, was long overdue.
“Come here,” he said.
I’d barely taken a step in his direction when he reached for me, sliding his hands under my tux jacket and pushing it off my shoulders. The jacket hit the floor and then Beckett’s mouth was on mine, stealing my breath, nothing careful at all in the way he kissed me. That talented tongue slid past my lips, exploring and tasting faintly like the sweet cherryWe Tied the Knotshot we’d taken earlier.
All bets were off as I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer so I could feel every inch of his hard body against mine. The truth had cracked us wide open that morning, but this—his mouth at my throat, my hands sliding up his shirt, and the rough sound he made when I started to unbutton it—was where we found each other again.
I worked quickly, needing all these clothes out of my way, and Beckett let me for about two seconds before he took over. Before I realized what was happening, he had my back against the wall, his body pressed up against mine, a solid weight Iwanted more of. I pulled his shirt up out of his pants and slid my hands up under it, his bare skin smooth and scorching under my palms.
Then he shivered, and God, that did something to my self-control. Blasted it to friggin’ smithereens.
“Becks.” I would’ve hated the fact that my words came out so rough and impatient if not for the fact that he then deepened the kiss, like he’d waited the whole damn night to get me alone and had finally run out of patience.
And, frankly, thank fuck.
I pushed his shirt off his shoulders, needing his skin and heat, needing the man under all that control. And speaking of control…
Beckett grabbed my wrists, pinned them against the wall, and then kissed the breath right out of me.
Oh hell yes.
I melted, every inch of me aware of his hands around my wrists, his thigh between mine, his mouth dragging from my lips to my jaw like he was done pretending he didn’t know exactly what I needed.
Then his teeth grazed the side of my neck, and I literally felt my legs start to give out beneath me. He chuckled low, his breath by my ear as he released my wrists so he could grab my hips and turn us to walk back toward the bed.
My dick was pounding, aching for some friction, and with my hands free I finally got my wish, quickly unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his hips. I pulled back enough that I could look at him, running my fingers down his abs before dipping beneath the waist of his briefs.
He sucked in a breath, letting me touch all I wanted, and damn I loved that sound. Loved that I was the one who caused it.
More than that, I loved the way he wanted me, that he’d said it and shown it and stayed just to prove it. Now he was looking at me like he planned to make sure I never doubted it again.
“You’re overdressed,” he murmured against my lips.
“Then why don’t you?—”
