Blood Cure (Blood Type 3)

Gabe whistled low when she finally reappeared. “Holy shit, Reyna.”

“Yeah,” she said, running her hands down the sides of the dress.

“Stop doing that. It’s distracting as fuck.”

She pulled her hands back. “Sorry.”

“You look like a meal served on a silver platter. Jesus Christ!” Gabe took a step back. “I’d fuck you so hard in that.”

Reyna laughed softly. “I won’t tell Beckham you said that.”

“If he doesn’t, then there’s something wrong with him.”

A blush crept up to her cheeks. “Stop! You’re going to ruin my makeup.”

“That’s not the only thing I’ll ruin.”

“You’re ridiculous. Is this going to be okay to meet your contact? I mean…is this too much?”

“Uh…no. That is just the right amount.”

Reyna smacked his arm. “You’re trouble.”

He bared a broad smile and winked. “That’s my middle name.”

Gabe escorted her back downstairs and drove her to the address he’d been given for them to meet. It was in a nice part of town. Not too far from where Beckham’s penthouse had been. Reyna hadn’t been back to this part of town since that fateful night when she’d run out on Beckham after they’d had sex and he’d bitten her. All this time and she hadn’t stepped foot near here.

She shivered as they stepped out of the car and Gabe hurried her inside. She’d put on a long black coat, but was still cold.

Beckham was waiting for them in the entrance to the building, looking dapper as fuck in a tuxedo. She had no idea where he’d acquired a tailored tuxedo in a matter of hours, but she really didn’t care. All she could do was stare. Seeing him in regular clothes for so long at the mansion had made her sensitive to him in a suit again. Or maybe she always would be. Because damn, he looked good.

He smiled at her approach and that made it all the better. “Little One…”

“Becks,” she murmured.

“You need a minute?” Gabe asked with a laugh.

“You should go. We’ll be in touch when we’re finished.” Beckham tossed the key to Gabe. “And lock up after us.”

Gabe grabbed the key out of the air and then grinned wickedly as he strolled backward. “I’d take a look at what’s under that jacket before you go.”

Beckham’s eyes were wide with hunger on her body. “Can I rip his throat out?”

Reyna laughed softly and shook her head. “You like him.”

“Hardly.”

Her hands went to her jacket and she slowly unbuttoned the front. She let the front fall open and reveal her dress beneath. Beckham sucked in a harsh breath. A feral look crossed his face. She knew that look. It said Maybe we can skip this meeting.

He took a step forward, bridging the distance between them. His hands went to her hair and she blocked him. “Uh-uh. Not the hair. My stylist would kill you.”

“I’d like to see her try.”

“All look and no play,” she said teasingly. “You’ll have to wait until after.”

A growl ripped from his throat and Reyna tensed. Her body ignored the clear sign of danger and went straight to really fucking turned on. Worse yet, she wasn’t wearing any panties.

His hand trailed down her front—over her breasts, down her stomach, and to the short hem of her dress. Her breathing hitched as he slipped his hand underneath the material and up between her thighs. Her core pulsed before he even touched her.

She wanted him.

God, did she want him.

“Look at that,” he said. “Open to me.”

A finger stroked across her exposed—and now wet—opening. She tilted her head back in ecstasy at the feel of him. Would it be the end of the world to mess her hair up? She could live with that.

“I love knowing when you want me,” Beckham said against her ear.

“All the time,” she gasped out.

He pressed a finger up inside of her and her body shuddered in response.

Okay, forget the meeting. Maybe they could reschedule. Or show up late. She knew neither of those things was possible and Gabe had gone to a lot of trouble to get this meeting, but her head was all fuzzy, and dammit, she just wanted Becks.

He stroked inside of her once and then twice before removing his hand. She whimpered in frustration.

“Now who has to wait to play until later?”

“So cruel.”

“You have no idea, Little One.”

Reyna grumbled under her breath and snapped her jacket closed again. “Well, did you get the thing?”

“I have something I’d guess he would want.”

“And that is?”

Beckham stilled her hands as she was finishing buttoning up her jacket and forced her to look at him. “Don’t.”

He easily unbuttoned the jacket again before sliding the material off of her shoulders. Reyna’s breathing hitched at the movement. A small shiver ran up her body at the chill in the room.

Then Beckham removed a black velvet case from his own jacket and held it before her. She tensed, wondering what wonderful thing Beckham had believed to be a great enough price for their contact. He flicked the clasp at the front then lifted the lid, revealing a dazzling diamond necklace.