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Southerin Nights and Secrets (Boys are Back in Town) Page 14


  “What if the parachute fails?”

  “You’ve always got a buddy, a wingman. He’s got your back. He won’t let you get hurt.” His fingers curved around her arm, moving it to the side, returning to begin the methodical push of each of her shirt buttons through the corresponding hole. If she was going to stop this, now was the time but she knew she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to. Beckett leaned over even farther, stopping when his mouth hovered over her own. “Watch them.”

  She complied, shifting her gaze to the sky as he kissed her. A slow, soft seductive kiss that had her moaning and opening to the gentle sweep of his tongue but was over almost before it began. He shifted his mouth lower, along her jaw, down the column of her, ending in a sensual lick along her collarbone.

  She watched as the first of the passengers stepped out of the plane, gasping when Beckett pulled her bra to the side and closed his mouth over her nipple. Virginia arched into his warmth, the sweet tension as he sucked and licked coiling in her belly in a taut spring. The pressure built, spiraling higher and higher as the person free-falling above them plummeted to the earth.

  “Please, Beckett,” she weaved a hand in his tousled hair, tugging not-so-gently as she writhed on the blanket. His mouth was wicked, scrapes of his teeth electrifying as he moved from her one nipple to the other.

  His body was heavy where it draped across hers, the weight a welcome pressure as her climax sparked, trying to catch fire and set her off but she couldn’t get there with just the rasp of his tongue on her tits. Virginia lifted her other hand and moved down her belly, shaking fingers struggling to undo the button on her jeans. She cursed, frustration spiking her need as a second jumper left the plane overhead. They were tandem objects, buffeted by the wind as it picked up with the approach of the coming storm. She tried again, getting nowhere with releasing the fastening on her pants.

  “Damn it,” she said.

  Beckett leaned up again to hover over her mouth, his tongue swiping lazily along her bottom lip. He grinned, a lazy slow flash of teeth that made her want to howl. He knew he had her on the edge and was enjoying her torment. She leaned up and nipped at his lip, warning him that he couldn’t keep playing with her.

  “You want to come, Ginger?”

  “Yes,” she gasped as he lightly pinched one of her nipples, immediately stroking it with a sensual slide to ease the sting. “Please, Beckett. I need to come.”

  “The magic word works every time,” he drawled on a low laugh as his hand slid alongside her own, nudging it away as he opened her jeans with the practiced ease of a man who knew his way around a woman’s pants. Right now she couldn’t resent his experience since he was seconds away from giving her the orgasm she needed so desperately. “Keep looking up at the sky, Ginger. I’ll take care of you.”

  She lifted her eyes, noticing that one of the jumpers had pulled his chute, the bright orange and red patterns unmistakable against the growing gray of the sky. Beckett’s fingers slipped under the edge of her panties and found her clit. No games. No denial. He was as good as his word to bring her pleasure.

  Beckett’s mouth teased her owna kiss and not quite a kissthe whisper of his tongue against her lips, dipping in to taste her, to take her moan inside him. His fingers weren’t so subtle, the caress firm and the pressure calculated to get her off. Her own were clenched in the folds of the blanket underneath her, twisting around the digits as she braced herself for the coming storm inside and outside.

  The second chute opened just as her orgasm hit, and she closed her eyes against the bright shards of light sparking behind her eyelids as the aching, blissful, mind-blowing pleasure uncoiled and spread like lava through her body.

  “Oh, yeah,” Beckett murmured. “So gorgeous. So hot and wet.”

  Ginger clenched the folds of fabric harder as the aftershocks rattled her body.

  “Damn, Beckett,” she shivered with the remnants of pleasure and the brisk wind racing over the hill carrying with it the rich smell of the earth and mountain. Ginger needed a connection with him, wanted to continue the intimacy. “Come here.”

  She wove her fingers through his hair and tugged him close enough to kiss, invading him with her tongue, teeth scraping lightly along the sensitive inner part of his lower lip. He moaned and she lifted, pushing him onto his back as she straddled his waist. He was hard where his body pressed against her sex, and she started a slow grind, shuddering with the sharp spikes of exquisite bliss making her skin tingle. Beckett broke off the kiss.

  “I need to fuck you, Ginger. Dying to be inside you.”

  “Yes,” she panted as she angled up to get her jeans off. His hands were rough, now awkward and fumbling with his desire. The wind whipped her hair across her face and it was hard to see what she was doing. Beckett tucked the hair behind an ear and they both laughed as she peeled her jeans down her legs.

  There had always been lots of laughter in bed with Beckett, and she’d missed it.

  “Fuck,” his chuckle turning to a growl when his hand skimmed over her ass cheek, dipping a finger in to trace the slick folds of her sex. “Do you know how hard it has been? Acting like I wasn’t inside of you a few days ago? Agony.”

  “Well then, let’s put you out of your misery,” she grinned down at him. “I’ve never seen you so off your game.”

  He sobered, leaning up to press a kiss to her mouth just before he murmured, “I’ve got no game when it comes to you. Never did.”

  Ginger had to kiss him then, if only to keep herself from saying the words that leapt into her mouth, just on the edge of her tongue and ready to make her own confessions. She needed to keep perspective no matter how much this behind-the-scenes look at the real Beckett made her heart squeeze tight in her chest.

  She dove into him, squirming against the sensual caress of his fingers along her sex. They took their time. He was attentive, spiraling her pleasure up and up until she knew the only way down was to take that step out into the vast sky and let herself free fall and give in to the pleasure.

  The fat, wet drop of rain caused her to gasp and pull out of the kiss. Not a gentle rain or a drizzle, one minute there was only a threat of weather and the next, Mother Nature decided to deliver her own version of a cold shower.

  “Come on!” Beckett said as he scrambled out from under her and pulled her toward the truck. She slid a little on the wet grass in her bare feet but he had a tight grip on her and hauled her close as he wrenched the back door open and pushed her inside.

  The rain hammered on the roof and the glowering clouds made the interior of the truck dim and gloomy. Water was dripping off her hair and shirt, running in rivulets over her skin. Beckett hadn’t fared much better, his T-shirt was plastered against his hard chest, jeans now a dark indigo, and his hair was wet and clinging to his throat.

  He looked delicious.

  Suddenly the inside of the truck was intimate, not gloomy at all.

  Virginia shifted across the seat and climbed on top of him, resuming her position from outside and settled against the heavy bulge in his jeans. She ran her fingers over his shoulders, across his chest, and began her descent to the part of him she wanted inside her.

  “Where were we?” Beckett asked, his slow grin a flash of white teeth in the semi-darkness. He shuddered as she scraped a nail across the barbell piercing and then squirmed as she trailed her hands lower. He watched her face, never once looking down as she unfastened his belt, the zipper, and reached inside his jeans. Commando. Score.

  He groaned, lifting his hips and thrusting into her grip, the noise loud and deep in the confines of the cabin.

  “I think we were at the place where you were going to fuck me.”

  …

  She was going to kill him.

  It would be an amazing fucking ride but he was going down and he knew it. He’d taken bigger leaps with nothing more than a few yards of nylon between him and sure deaththis would be a much better way to go. He lifted his hips again, thumbs wedged under his w
aistband as he nudged his wet jeans down his thighs, just far enough for their bare skin to touch. Hers silky and smooth, his rougher but both highly sensitized.

  “It’s been too long,” he said, cupping the weight of her beautiful breasts, flicking the hard nipples with his fingers before leaning down to lick off the water. She arched into his mouth, offering up her tits to him, one hand tight around his dick in a hot clasp, the other digging into his hair to keep him sucking and pulling and dragging out little pants and gasps with every one. He released her flesh, trailing his lips over the upper swell and higher on her neck. “Let me. I need to fuck you.”

  “It’s only been a day.”

  “Like I said, too long.” He palmed her ass with both hands, groaning with the eye-crossing pleasure that shot through his dick when she rocked against him. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

  “Then do it.”

  Like that first night, he didn’t need a second invitation, especially when Ginger pushed aside her panties to give him access. He wrestled for a few agonizing seconds to get the condom out of his pocket, open the wrapper, and slide it onto his erection. She lowered herself onto him, eyes focused on his own and with a few heart-stoppingly good shimmies and slides and he was covered in a white-hot pleasure that would never, ever get fucking old.

  “This. I want this so bad.” She pressed her lips to his, the slick velvet of her tongue sneaking into his mouth. She moaned and ground down on his cock, taking him all the way inside her tight heat. “I’m so close to coming.”

  “Oh, fuck.” Beck claimed her mouth as he squeezed her ass, urging her to raise herself up and down at her own pace. She wanted control, and he was happy to give it when the result was feeling like this. He was flying. He was grounded. He was home. And the last thought didn’t scare him like he thought it would.

  This wasn’t going to last long. Ginger felt too good, too perfect in her slow slide up and down his dick. Her breasts, lush and hard tipped, brushed against his chest, raising goosebumps on his skin.

  “Beckett,” she murmured against his mouth, her fingers burrowing into his hair and gripping the strands. The slight pain only heightened his pleasure, the spike in his endorphins quickening his breath into a rapid pant. “Please. I can’t.”

  “I’ve got you,” he said, raising two fingers to her mouth, stroking her lips with slow passes. “Get them good and wet.”

  Her eyes shot wide, pupils dilating even more as she realized his intent. Without breaking eye contact, with him still buried deep inside her, she opened her mouth and sucked his fingers inside. Her tongue swirled and twisted over his digits, soaking them, her sex clenching with each pull and suckle. He was not immune to the erotic moment, his own dick swelling with the sight of her mouth wrapped around him, the sound of her moans.

  With a shaking hand, he withdrew from her mouth, without hesitation coasting along her back, along her ass cheek and then delving between until he found the other entrance to her body. Virginia held her breath, her body still as he inserted a finger inside, stretching her gently and then sliding in and out as she opened to him. She let out a shuddering breath, her head lolling back on her shoulder in ecstasy.

  “Fuck yourself on me, Gin,” he urged, bucking his hips up into her depth. “You know how good it’s going to be. How good we are together. I need it.” He shivered when she did as he asked. “I need you. So much. Tell me you need me, too.”

  “I do.” She looked back down at him, her hair falling down around them as she rested her forehead against his. There was a sheen of moisture in her eyes, a thickness of emotion in her voice. “I can’t help it. I need you. too.”

  His heart squeezed at her words, the emotion welling up inside him both overwhelmingly terrifying and fulfilling at the same time. Emotions he had not allowed himself to feel since their time together so many years ago were now back as if they’d never been gone.

  “I’m coming, Beckett.” Her words were half whisper, half moan but he heard her and every ounce of what she was experiencing. “Catch me.”

  “I will.” There was no way he was lasting past the first clench of her sex around him. When she bore down on him and started to come, he followed her lead and gave himself over to the sensation of surrender.

  Time was without real measure in their little cocoon, their heavy breaths the only thing competing with the heavy patter of the rain on the roof. Beckett held her tight against his chest, his heart stuttering with his reaction to this day, this moment. It was a turning point for something, a sea change from the path they’d been on and he desperately needed assurance that all they’d revealed today would not be lost or unexplored.

  They just needed time. He pulled her closer, pressing his lips against the sweet fall of her hair, asking for the only thing he could at that moment.

  “Just give us time.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I’m going to be late for work,” Ginger sighed.

  Beck chuckled against the pulse of her throat, giving her a soft kiss and pressing her harder against the wall in his apartment entryway. Waking up with Ginger in his bed had been a pleasure he never thought he would have again and even before the alarm had gone off, he’d wasted no time at all making it memorable. The taste of her orgasm was still on his lips as he delayed her just a few moments longer.

  “Call in sick,” he urged, cupping the heavy weight of her breast in his hand and squeezing gently. It would take almost no effort on his part to pull back the edge of the v-neck of her blouse and taste her. She was like his favorite candy: sweet and addictive.

  “I’m not sick.” Beck gave her an A+ for continuing to wage the good fight but it was futile. He was cocky but it wasn’t that hard to convince her that staying in bed with him all day was preferable to paperwork and Mr. Bent.

  “Shhh.” He slipped the first button of her blouse through the hole, gliding the back of his fingers on the sliver of silky skin he exposed and savoring her shiver. “I’m a doctor. I know sick when I see it.” Beck leaned down and pressed a kiss on the swell of her left breast. “Your heartbeat is racing. You’re flushed. You’re very sick.”

  “Really?” Ginger choked back a laugh and a moan, the husky edge to her voice almost prompting him to kneel down and toss her over his shoulder and just get this push and pull over with.

  But he loved the games with her. Loved it when she dropped the veneer of cool and reserve and acted like the red-hot, vibrant woman he knew she was.

  “Really. Very sick.” He kissed the swell of the opposite breast, undoing another button on her blouse and exposing the tiny birthmark nestled just under the edge of her bra. She smelled like warm skin, her sweet perfume and his soap. He could fucking eat her up. “I think you’re contagious.”

  Ginger pushed back from his embrace, her dark brows raised almost to her hairline. “And I think you’re full of crap.”

  “No. No.” He tried to drag her back as she ducked out of his arms. She was hastily re-buttoning her blouse and covering up all that flesh and lace. A fucking tragedy that needed to be fixed as soon as possible. He reached up, undoing the top button again, dodging away from her half-hearted slaps as he laughed.

  “Beckett,” she said, her voice full of warning that contrasted with her barely subdued giggle.

  “Ginger.” He took a step closer.

  “No.” She pointed a finger at him and stepped backward, only stopping when her back hit the door. “Dr. Sutherland.”

  Oh, hell. He knew that voice. She was going to work. No all-day nookie in the cocoon of his sheets.

  “You’re killing me here.” He sagged against the wall, faking a cardiac event.

  “Lie down, take two aspirin, and call yourself in the morning.” Her grin was wicked and full of self-appreciation for her joke. Damn. A playful Ginger was even harder to let go.

  “You’re a cruel woman.” Ginger rolled her eyes and reached behind her for the lock, flipping it to the right to unlock the door. She turned her back to hi
m as she tugged the door open and made her way out into the hallway to press the call button on the elevator. “Heartless.”

  “I don’t think it’s my heart you’re interested in!” she answered with a sly glance over her shoulder just before she stepped into the elevator and disappeared.

  Beck stood in the doorway, stuck in place with the impact of Ginger’s last words, ignoring the possibility of shocking his neighbors by only wearing a threadbare pair of sweatpants. She’d spoken them as a joke, but he knew that she believed them. Ginger thought he wasn’t interested in anything but her body, uninterested in any type of commitment.

  Beck stepped inside his apartment, closing the door behind him but it couldn’t stop the ass chewing he was giving himself.

  It was just greedy. Starting up with Ginger again. He was never more a Sutherland than when he followed her to her apartment that night. Never more his father’s son than when he told her that stuff at Promised Land farm. When he’d told her the truth.

  But if he had any say over how this was going to turn out, he was determined not to let his truth hurt her. Not to let the Sutherland part of him diminish any part of the woman she had become. If Beck Sutherland could claw himself out of the trailer park then he could make sure that he didn’t fuck this up.

  Beck turned to get changed into his workout gear when the knock on the door stopped him.

  Ginger.

  She’d come back to play hooky.

  He wrenched open the door glad that the dirty comment about wanting to strip her down to help bring down her fever when he saw the figure standing in his hallway. His father. Bleeding.

  “What the fuck?” he asked and then decided that he didn’t care. Beck moved to shut the door.

  “Are you going to leave me to bleed to death in your hallway?” Sandy Sutherland jammed his hand against the door, wincing with the effort. “Seriously. It fucking hurts.”

  Beck closed his eyes wishing that he hadn’t taken that oath when he became a doctor. Or that he’d at least thought to add an addendum excluding his convict father.