Page 112 of Changing Lanes

His hips begin to move with mine until we find a rhythm that doesn’t exactly match the music but fits our mood perfectly—teasing, with a promise of more…soon.

Our friends long gone, it’s just us as my palms rest on his bare chest, feeling his increased heartbeat calling to me like a lighthouse to the wayward ship. Time to navigate to safer waters.

Time to come home.

“God, I missed you.”

Beckett lowers his mouth to mine, kissing the shit right out of me. I’m breathless, legless, and over-fucking-heated by the time he’s done.

“Your mouth is the thing that I think about most. I want to shut you up and make you scream all at once. Fuck, that mouth,” he groans deeply, pressing his erection into my stomach. “Do you feel what you do to me?” Swallowing thickly, I nod. “Say you’ll stay with me tonight. Put me out of my misery. I’m dying here, girl.”

Our bodies continue to stay in sync while our minds are slowly getting on the same page. We’re playing this dangerous game that neither of us is ready for but both desperately want.

“One night,” he pleads, searching my eyes.

“You said that last time,” I challenge, feeling major déjà vu.

“That wasn’t a full night! You snuck out halfway through.”

We come to a stop, watching each other closely. Waiting. Hoping.

“So, you want a half-night then? What could you even do with half a night?” I snicker mockingly, knowing damn well what he did with the last half-night I gave him. Beckett doesn’t need time to fuck everything up, he needs access. Access I have to deny him any way I can.

With a mocking smirk of his own, he says, “Let me show you.”

CHAPTER 27

Paige

Together, we begin the trek back to the camping portion of the venue. There’s a long walkway between the amphitheater and the campgrounds that makes for an easy commute for concert goers who are also camping on-site.

Hand in gigantic hand, we stroll past other campers drunkenly making their own way back and it’s not long before the tall canvas peaks of tents come into view.

Beckett brings me closer, tucking me under his arm. Thankfully, he doesn’t smell bad. That’s something I noticed about him, that even after working his ass off all day in a sweaty garage in excruciating heat, he still smells good—like really good. If anything, the hard work smell on top of his usual musk only amplifies his attractiveness.

He catches me eyeballing him and smiles knowingly.

“Half a night,” I remind him, nerves scattering across my body like bats in an attic.

This will work, right? We can do this, have sex again and still walk away as friends afterward? The last person I tried this with was Dean and he couldn’t. He couldn’t accept that I didn’t want anything other than sex with zero strings attached.

But this doesn’t feel like it did with Dean. I don’t feel the same way I did with Dean. When I’m with Beckett I don’t want to fuck to forget. I want to be cherished, like I’m worthy. And he makes me feel that way. He’s as tempting as the devil himself but caring enough to rival any saint. He rides, he’s stable with a promising future within his grasp, and he goes down on me like I’m his favorite dessert.

He also happens to be my roommate. Someone I cannot escape even if that option no longer feels like an option at all.

I’m a disaster though. Disasters can’t be contained. They’re feared, not trusted. Tracked, not predicted. They aren’t going to suddenly quell their chaos because of some strong-as-oak man with crystal blue eyes and a gifted tongue.

“Half a night, all night, whatever. Let’s not limit ourselves.”

Stopping dead in my tracks forces Beckett to come to a halt as well and I turn a glare on him. A glare I should be directing at myself.

His right hand comes up to cup my face but I flinch right, too.

The look in his eyes freezes me to the spot and when he tries again, I let him.

“I’m kidding.”

I frown.