Beat (Life on Stage 2)

Oblivious to everything around us except our growing need, neither of us realizes for a moment that the voice speaking is directed at us.

“Aren’t you Flynn Beckham?” the woman says.

“No. But I get that a lot.”

I laugh at his response and lean toward the woman and whisper, “He’s not as cute as Flynn Beckham.”

The fingers at my hip dig in a little harder.

A few more stops and we arrive on the seventeenth floor. With a swipe of the key, we’re inside and don’t bother to turn on the lights. The curtains on the floor-to-ceiling windows are wide open, the lights of the Vegas strip providing an oddly sensual backdrop as they flash and illuminate the dark sky.

Cupping my face tenderly in his hands, Flynn leans in and kisses me sweetly. He takes his time, his tongue exploring and hands sliding up my sides in a way that makes me feel worshiped.

He pulls back and looks at me. “I’m crazy about you.” Eyes filled with sincerity, and something that takes my breath away, he reaches down and surprises me by hooking one arm beneath my knees and lifting.

His lips come back to mine again as he carries me to the bedroom and gently sets me down on my feet. “I want to take my time with you. No talking tonight. I’m going to show you how I feel about you.”

We explore each other’s bodies slowly. Listening to one another’s breath as we trace the curves and feel the soft contours and hard ridges. His gaze caresses my skin so that I feel him warming my body, even when he’s no longer touching me.

I kiss underneath his ear, the spot I’ve learned makes his body shiver. His tongue traces a path along my collarbone before his head dips lower and he takes my protruding nipple between his teeth and tugs.

I moan when he runs his finger from the top of my ass, his finger threatening at my rear, before sliding down and then up between my legs. A sinfully erotic groan echoes through the room when I lick the V on his lower abdomen, trailing my tongue from his hipbone down to his groin. With my head already low, I surprise him, taking him into my mouth.

“Lucky,” he groans in warning, as if to say he won’t be able to handle being inside of my mouth. I drop to my knees before him, his restraint only fueling my desire to see him lose control. Pulling back, but not all the way, I gently swirl my tongue around his tip and then loosen the suction around him as if I’m going to release him. But I don’t. Instead, I wrap my fingers around the base of him and take him in as deep as I can, until my lips meet my fingers.

“Fuck. Lucky.” His eyes darken as he watches me. Even though I can see the primal urge lurking just beneath the surface, he still holds back. So I suck harder. Deeper. Faster. Bobbing my head up and down until the room fills with a roar and the last bit of control he was trying to maintain shatters. His hands fist into my hair tightly and he begins to thrust into my mouth.

My own excitement grows as I hear him gasp for breath and he mutters all the things he’s going to do to me when he has me beneath him. He tries to pull back before he releases, but I’m so turned on, the feel of his salty, warm finish might be enough to detonate my own spectacular orgasm.

Throwing back his head, his body trembling as he becomes undone, he releases into my mouth long and hard. I struggle to take it all, breathing jaggedly through my nose until his thrusts begin to slow and finally stop.

Then he lifts me from my knees, cradling my body in his arms, and holds me tight for a long time. Eventually, when our breathing returns to normal, he lays me on the bed and slips in behind me, his front to my back.

A few minutes later, his voice still hoarse from strain, he brushes my hair to the side and kisses my neck. “I thought I was showing you what I felt.”

“Guess I had a lot to say first.”

He chuckles. “Give me about five minutes, you won’t be able to get a word in edgewise.”

“Five minutes?” Half joking that he can retool and be ready again so quickly. He responds by pushing his already semi-hard erection up against my ass.

“Oh.”

“The five minutes were for you, not for me.”

The next time there is no race to lose control. Instead, it’s beautiful and slow and everything he promised it would be. His eyes don’t break from mine as he slides inside of me, not even as he brushes his lips tenderly against mine. And then we begin to move, a sensual and slow-burning rhythm that is so much more than just two bodies heading toward a magnificent finish. We’re two souls colliding, rocking as one person, doing something I never realized I hadn’t done before. Making love.

The rest of the night we speak only with our bodies, listening to each other’s heartbeats, and truly feel each other in a way I’ve never experienced.

What I don’t feel for once is guilt. Giving in to my emotions, allowing ourselves to truly let go and just be with each other leaves no room for anything else. There will be plenty of time for guilt tomorrow.

Chapter Thirty

Lucky

Not since I was fifteen and Avery and I snuck out to meet up with the Raven brothers at eleven on a school night have I felt so nervous creaking open a door to a place I’m supposed to already be inside of. I swallow a deep breath, attempting to calm my nerves. It almost works, but then I remember what happened when I returned from that decade-ago dalliance. Avery got her first real kiss with Kyle that night. I, on the other hand, walked straight into the angry glare of my father the minute the door opened. It was a solid two weeks before I saw the outside of our apartment again, aside from school.

Dylan isn’t supposed to return until early this afternoon, but plans can change. Finally mustering enough courage to slip the key into the door, I brace myself for the consequences of my actions.

The room is dark.

I heave a sigh of relief when I flick on the lights and find the bed hasn’t been slept in. Thankfully, I have a few hours to clear my head.

I’m in the middle of drying my hair in the bathroom when I hear Dylan call out my name. He’s back early.

“Hey. I didn’t think you’d be back for a few more hours.” I force a smile as I step from the master bath to greet him, but my knees are actually trembling.

“Neither did I,” Dylan bites out. Uh oh.

“Did the meeting not go well?”

He turns and stares at me, a very unhappy look on his face. “The meeting was fine. I felt guilty leaving you alone all night, so I came back early.”

“Oh.” I get the feeling he’s angry with me, but I’m almost afraid to ask. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

His jaw flexes and he turns away, emptying his pockets on top of the tall dresser. “So I’ve heard.”

What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t respond, but I’m sure more is coming.

“What did you do last night, Lucky?” His tone tells me he’s not making small talk. It’s an interrogation, and I have the sickening feeling he already knows all the answers.

It would be the perfect time to come clean. I’ve dragged this out way too long already. Yet I can’t seem to get the words out. Lies seem to flow from my lips with ease these days. “I gambled for a bit at one of the casinos.”

His unrelenting stare makes me squirm, so I pretend to focus my attention on packing the blow dryer in my hand into my suitcase.