Blood Match (Blood Type 2)

And when she entered her room, she was glad that she hadn’t delayed.

“Becks,” she whispered.

He was silhouetted against the light from her closet. He was actually dressed down for once, in dark jeans and a button-down with a jacket. It seemed he hadn’t come straight from the office this time. Like he’d actually planned to be here all along.

“Little One,” he said, his voice deep and seductive.

The sound went straight to her core, igniting her body. She suddenly forgot all about the wedding planning and the fact that she hadn’t eaten.

“You’re here.”

“Yes. I worked it out so that I would have the night off.”

Reyna’s eyebrows rose as she shut the door behind her. “You got a night off?”

“It didn’t go over very well,” he said carefully. “I was supposed to be at an event with Penny.”

Reyna frowned. She knew it was a part of his cover, but she didn’t have to like it.

“And you chose to come here instead?”

He nodded. “I chose to see you. I would rather see you.”

“She didn’t like that?”

“You’ll probably see it on the news in the morning,” he said blandly.

Reyna’s eyebrows lifted. “That bad?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “It doesn’t matter.”

“But your cover…”

“Don’t worry about my cover.” He bridged the distance between them. “I’ve been investigated enough since your disappearance. My cover is solid.”

Beckham’s hand ran up her arm, over her shoulder, and came to rest on her neck. Her heart beat a tattoo where his thumb rested. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She breathed him in.

“Why don’t you bundle up and I’ll tell you all about it?”

“Bundle up?” she asked breathily. Her mind was on his hand on her neck and his lips so near hers…and the bed and the warmth of the room.

“I’m taking you out.”

Her eyes snapped up to his. They were dancing in the faint light. “What do you mean?”

He grinned a dark, mischievous smile. Then he planted an achingly soft but commanding kiss on her lips. “I’m breaking you out for the night. That is,” he said, offering her his hand, “if you’ll have me.”

With her heart in her throat, she placed her hand in his. “I’d love that.”

He brought her hand up to his lips and stared down at her the whole time. “Then you are going to need more clothes.”

Beckham retrieved a bag from the closet and passed it to her. After a few minutes, she was bedecked in winter clothes, including a super-warm and sleek peacoat. She wrapped a dark scarf around her neck and slipped a pair of gloves into her pockets.

Beckham held his hand back out to her. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she said, a thrill running through her as she put her hand in his. “Though I feel a bit overdressed.”

“You and your obsession with clothes,” he muttered under his breath.

Reyna laughed and followed him out of the room. Beckham clicked a new lock into place. They’d added security to her room since her breakout. That made her feel a little better that not just anyone could get in, but not so great that she couldn’t get out if she wanted to.

“They’re going to install a hand scanner after your little breakout,” he told her with a short laugh.

“Great,” she grumbled. Talk about overkill.

She followed Beckham down the hall and to the elevator. She paced the floor as they zipped up the five floors to the steel door. Beckham shot her an amused look. He reached for her and drew her closer again.

“You are full of unrelenting energy,” he breathed into her hair.

“I’m here with you and we’re leaving and going out together. I don’t know how you can expect me to be calm.”

“Calm is not your natural state of being.”

“Where are we going anyway?”

Beckham laced their fingers together and didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t answer. She knew asking was futile. Beckham wasn’t one for words. And when he wanted to keep a secret, well, he’d already proven he was plenty adept at it.

When they exited the elevator, Beckham went through all the motions to get them through the steel door, and then they were out! And she suddenly realized why he had forced her into as many layers as possible. It was fucking cold.

She scrambled into her gloves and buried her face into her scarf. Temperature shifts were hardly part of her repertoire after having been confined to a room for months on end. Her body had no idea what to do with the drastic change in temperature.

“It’s not far,” he told her, pulling her in close as they crossed a dark empty parking lot.

They went up a few flights of stairs, down another weird corridor, and then up another elevator before Beckham opened the door to the rooftop.

Her smile was magnetic. “I feel like we’ve been here before.”

“I wanted to create new memories with you.”