She did have him. And whether Beckett knew it or not, he had her. For as long as the mouthwatering man wanted.
Speaking of mouthwatering…
Evie reached for the hem of his black crewneck t-shirt and began hungrily pushing it up his sculpted chest. Understanding her obvious intent, he tore his mouth from hers, sat up, and reached back behind his head.
In one smooth, seamless motion, Beckett pulled the garment up over his head and off his arms. With his eyes locked with hers, he then bunched the soft cotton into a ball before tossing it somewhere to the side.
Her mouth watered as a rush of arousal left her sex swollen and heavy with lust and need. Damn, the man was perfect. A beautiful, perfect male specimen whose body was a work of pure, tanned, unadulterated art.
Beckett’s muscles contracted beneath her touch. She could hear his breath hitch as her greedy hands began their slow, sensual exploration, and she smiled. Knowing he was every bit as affected by her touch as she was his gave Evie a sense of encouragement, so of course…she kept going.
Working her way up his toned pecs and brawny shoulders, she took time to memorize as much as she could. Every crevice. Every dip. Every curve.
Every inch she could see was a destination to discover, and she made damn sure to commit them all to memory. Because something Evie knew better than most…
Tomorrow is never guaranteed.
“My turn.” Beckett practically growled as he gently wrapped his hands around her wrists and eased them from his body. With slow, careful movements, he guided her arms up so her hands were high above her head before ordering a low, “Don’t move.”
She obeyed the command, keeping her arms up just as he’d positioned them. It didn’t take long for her to realize his motive.
He reached for the hem of her t-shirt. Evie’s breath caught in her throat as his knuckles brushed against the skin at her lower belly, but still, she didn’t move.
Beckett pulled the shirt up over her head and tossed it to the side. His dark gaze lowered to her lace-covered breasts. He reached out, slowly sliding her bra straps down her shoulders—first one and then the other—before expertly undoing the front clasp nestled snugly in the lacy center.
Her breasts spilled free as Beckett removed the delicate white item altogether, and for a moment, Evie felt as if she were the most desired woman in the world. But then…
A sudden sense of uncertainty began pushing its way through, bringing with it a slew of self-sabotaging questions. Were her breasts too big? Her nipples too dark? Was her belly not toned enough, or her hips too wide?
At a size twelve, Evie knew she wasn’t exactly runway model material. And she’d always been perfectly fine with that. But now…
Now I want to know what Beckett’s thinking.
Or maybe she didn’t. Maybe it was best if she justpretendedhis opinion of her didn’t matter. Or better yet, maybe she could pretend he thought she was absolutely?—
“Perfect.”
Evie’s eyes flew up to Beckett’s, and for a split second, she was certain he’d just read her mind. But in her attempt to search his dark brown gaze, she realized he wasn’t looking into herwidened eyes at all. Instead, he appeared to be eagerly soaking in the rise and fall of her exposed breasts.
Guess he’s not a mind reader, after all.
Emboldened by his obvious physical desire, Evie reached for his belt. But before she could make a move to release it, Beckett slid out of arm’s length and stood at the side of the bed.
“What are you?—”
“Figured taking off my pants would be easier if I was standing.” He arched an expectant brow.
Fair enough.
She followed his lead, scooting her body to the edge of the mattress so she was sitting directly in front of where he stood. Evie went for the belt a second time, her eyes remaining fixed with his as she pulled the thick leather strap free.
With his buckle undone and his belt straps hanging loose, she was able to easily free the button at the waist of his well-worn jeans. The zipper came next, and though it wasn’t easy, Evie forced herself to go slow.
This was their first time being together…like this. She wanted to make it as good for him as she could. She also, selfishly, wanted to make it last.
“You’re killin’ me here, you know?” Beckett’s deep drawl teased.
A wicked smile formed on her uplifting lips. “Am I?” Evie asked far too innocently.