Page 104 of Love, Lacey Donovan
He pressed closer, trapping me against the wall. “Any other questions, Lacey?”
I glanced over his shoulder at the view of New York City. “Can I see the rest of the apartment?”
Beckett’s grin widened. “Sure.” He slipped his hands under me and cupped my ass, lifting me off the ground. “We’ll start with the bedroom.”
Chapter 42
“Your boots,” Beckett muttered against my mouth.
“What about them?” Glancing over his shoulder, I saw the spiked heels of my boots digging into his jeans. “Oh! Sorry.” I relaxed my legs and let them slide to the floor.
Once I was on my feet, Beckett dropped to the floor and began unlacing my boots. He took forever working all the laces of my calf-high boots free. I stepped out of one, and he started on the other. I placed my hands on his shoulders for balance and watched him patiently unhook the laces.
He glanced up and caught me staring. “What kind of shoes are these?”
“Sexy ones.”
Beckett’s green-brown eyes flared, and he freed my foot from the high-heeled boot. “You don’t need anything extra to make you sexy.”
Once both my feet were on the ground, Beckett rose to his full height. My hands drifted down his shirt to explore across his chest. His muscles strained under my touch.
A thrill ran down my spine at the sheer size of him. Without my shoes on, Beckett towered over me. I enjoyed being small next to him; it made me feel protected. I knew the sentiment was as outdated as the stone tablet, but it was still sexy as hell.
I stretched up on my toes and placed a kiss to his throat, then pushed his blazer over his shoulders. The blazer dropped to the floor, and I began undoing the buttons of his shirt. I kissed where the fabric gaped, feeling his pulse jump against my mouth.
Beckett pulled me closer, trapping my hands between our bodies. His eyes fired at me, the flecks of green shining emerald. “This is real, Lacey. It isn’t a romance novel. You can’t just close the book when you’re done with me.”
“I know that.”
He lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me with such tender sensuality that it took me a moment to remember my quest to get him naked. I fumbled with the remaining buttons of his shirt until it hung wide open. He undid the buttons at his wrist, and I pushed the shirt over his shoulders to the ground.
Beckett’s chest was gloriously naked, and I was reveling in the feel of his smooth skin under my fingers when he gripped my waist and spun me around so my back was to him. His fingers found the zipper on my dress and pulled; then I felt his mouth on my back. My skin tingled where his lips trailed up my neck to my ear.
Beckett eased the zipper down to the small of my back and then stepped away, taking his heat with him. I shivered as he pushed my dress down over my hips. Then, his warmth was back as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I felt his bare flesh against my back—hot, hard, and solid as a wall. He kissed across my shoulders, his skilled fingers prying the pins from my hair and tossing them to the ground.
When my hair fell down my back, he turned me to face him and took my mouth with a fierce kiss. The heat between us was enough to make my skin prickle with sweat.
Beckett stroked a hand down the center of my chest, fingers brushing over the burgundy lace of my strapless bra. “Have I told you I have a deep, abiding affection for your lingerie collection?” He bent his head to brush his lips over the swells of my breasts. “But I still like you best in my T-shirt.”
I slid my hand back to his chest, brushing my fingers over the rippling muscles of his abdomen. His breath caught as I flipped open the button on his jeans and slipped my hand under the waistband of his boxers. I felt the silk of his skin, so supple under my fingers. Then I lost my train of thought as Beckett pushed down my bra and swirled his tongue over my nipple.
Thunder pounded between my ears as he sucked the sensitive peak into his mouth. A rush of sweltering heat shot straight from my aching breasts to the juncture between my thighs, and I cinched my leg around him. I clasped one hand behind his head, holding him in place. I slid my other hand to the silken crown of his erection, and he moaned against my breast.
Even though I loved what Beckett’s mouth was doing to my breast, I was suddenly desperate to have his lips back on mine. I needed to taste him again, to stroke his tongue with mine. Tugging his hair, I pulled him up so I could kiss his mouth, share his breath.
Our kiss became urgent—edgy and unrated. Beckett hooked an arm around my back and lifted me off my feet, hauling me into the bedroom. I glimpsed the Hudson River through the windows as we fell onto the bed. Beckett ripped off his glasses and stretched over me to slap them on the nightstand. He came back to my mouth, settling his thighs between my legs. I wrenched his jeans over his hips, filling my hands with the round perfection of his ass. Beckett single-handedly unhooked my bra as he kicked off his shoes.
“Socks,” I said between frantic kisses.
“What?” He shoved his jeans down his thighs.
“What socks are you wearing?”
He laughed. “I have no idea.”
He rolled over in the enormous bed, pulling me on top of him. Gripping my hips, he slid me up his body. I straddled him and bent down for a kiss.
“I brought you something.”
