Jett’s head covers Beck’s breast, but I still find myself transfixed as she pushes her tank down. His hand comes up, grabbing onto her skin greedily as he sucks her breast into his mouth. I can hear his groan of frustration as he connects, and I see his body relax as his lips seal and his meal begins.
She strokes his back once, then twice, and finally looks up at me.
“Does it still make you uncomfortable?” she whispers across the room, and my groin thrums in reaction. Closing my mouth to swallow, I find my throat dry and my voice hoarse.
“No,” I admit because I don’t have that same feeling I did before when I watched her. I don’t feel sick or ashamed. She’s a goddamn goddess feeding her son, and if I didn’t find that romantic and erotic, then there would be something wrong with me. Clearly.
Pale hair falls over Jett’s head as she tips her head forward. Tucking it behind her ear, she adjusts him slightly before leaning back and stealing my eyes with hers.
Slowly, she smiles. My groin thrums and for a second I consider checking my lap to make sure my raging erection isn’t on display. But that would mean looking away from her. And I can’t.
“What?” I ask quietly of her smile.
“I told myself I wanted to go slow with you.” Jett grunts and wiggles a little but her attention stays on me. “But I’m so attracted to you, Beau, and I feel like you being attracted to me too is an opportunity I’d be an idiot to not act on.”
Vump. Vump. Vump. Her hand gently pats Jett’s bottom in the same heavy cadence as my heart. The fact that she’s feeding him seems to fall away, and it’s just me and her fighting for air as our bodies yearn to fuse. She licks her lips, and finally I’m at the point to readjust in the chair because my cock is refusing to acknowledge the baby in the room.
“I’m not an opportunity that you could miss. I’m here, I want you.” I lift my head in a subtle nod to the eating baby in her lap. “Him, too.”
Blue flames dance in her eyes, and our gazes hold as heat spreads up my neck and around my collar. I’m not freaking out that I said it, but I may be a little freaked out at just how true it is.
Saved by the fart.
Jett squirms, toots, and I watch as Beck shakes her breast to fall into the tank top. Smoothing her hand over herself, she slowly raises him up and his head falls easily into her shoulder. When she stands, I stand too because it feels like the right thing to do. Any sexual chemistry and tension I’d been feeling just a few moments before evaporates as I take in Jett’s sleeping face.
Eyes fluttering, he exhales, sending a small ripple through his pink lips. I smooth my hand through his hair, and then down his spine. A moment later, she kisses his forehead and lays him down in the center of his crib. After twisting the mobile, setting the sound machine, and grabbing the baby monitor off the changing table, I lead her out to the hallway.
Stepping into the hall, there’s a shift. My body fills with pins and needles, my palms ache to smooth over her body.
She closes the door quietly and turns, bumping straight into my chest. My hand is up the back of her neck, gripping her head, pulling her mouth to mine before she can react.
Our lips connect, her hands fall to my chest where they quickly begin exploring my body. Wrapping them around me, she drags her nails down my back as I take her bottom lip between my teeth, biting gently.
“Fuck, I’ve been waiting to kiss you all night.”
Her lips curl into a smile against mine, and I groan because at the same time, her fingertips sink into my aching back. “You just got here like fifteen minutes ago.”
“I lied. I’ve been waiting to really kiss you like that since the day I apologized to you.”
She kisses me again. It's only a matter of seconds before our tongues twist while my hand resting on her hip begins to wander. I reach around her back, under her shirt, my whole body shuddering as my rough fingertips discover her creamy skin. She’s velvety and hot, making everything inside me flare with desire to get her naked and devour the masterpiece that is Beck Reid.
But she’d said she had no plans to sleep with me tonight.
Pulling back, already panting, I ask, “Beck, what do you want from me?”
Her breathlessness makes my balls ache. I reach down to adjust myself since my cock is now officially closely acquainted with my zipper.
She kisses me again before saying, “that’s not a fair question.”
“Why not?”
Dropping down between our almost-touching bodies, her hand cups my crotch and my spine whips me straight. Inhaling sharply, I move both of my hands to her hips, digging in with my thumbs.
Her moan vibrates through me as we kiss again. “Because you’re like… young Johnny Depp. Young freakin’ Marlon Brando, if you even know who that is.” She licks her lips, eyes studying mine. My heart is racing.
I don’t believe in horoscopes and signs and shit–that’s as good as tinctures and moon charts to me. But the mention of Brando when my dad and I shared an affinity for the actor… I can’t really call that a coincidence. That’s way too fucking random to not be a sign.
“My dad and I loved Brando.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder to my coat draped over Beck’s couch down the hall in the living room. “That jacket was his. Got it after he sawThe Wild One. Passed it down to me when I turned eighteen.”