Page 136 of Will Bark for Pizza
I grunted under the weight of some European travel books from the shelf, and stacked them on the table. “You don’t have to do that, Beckett.”
“I know.”
“Then, why are you? And don’t give me that bullshit line about doing that for anyone else who rented from you.”
“Because it needs to be done,” he said simply, weaving through the precarious piles of books until he was in my corner. The ceiling was lower here, making the space feelmore confined. Mom used can lights to lighten up the cramped area, but most of them had burned out because Margene had been too lazy to change out lightbulbs.
Fucking lightbulbs.
I wanted to be mad about it, but I was having a really hard time focusing on my anger with Beckett this close to my orbit.
“That space might not get used for a long time,” I said, focusing on the books still on the shelves.
“It’s empty right now,” he said. “Now is the best time to get it done.”
“I can’t pay for it.”
Beckett came closer, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the edge of one of the sturdier shelves. “Do you think I’m doing it so youoweme?” There was a hint of something in his tone, as though I’d offended him.
“Sorry,” I said, apologizing more out of habit than anything. “I’m just used to . . .” I let my words trail off as I reached up on tiptoe for a book lying flat on the very top of the shelf. Who the hell put it up there?
I felt Beckett move more than I saw him, as though I sensed his energy pulling to mine like a magnet. He came up behind me, not touching, but the heat of him swirled between us like an untamed flame.
I started to look back, but thought better of it. If I met that intense gaze head-on, I’d probably just suction myself to him again. And though the thought of that was very, very tempting, it would only further complicate things.
Beckett reached above me for the book, capturing it easily.
He held it out in front of me, and I took it.
“Thanks,” I said in what equated to barely more than a whisper.
“Kira,” he said, his voice low against my ear. His hot breath tickled my neck as his fingertips grazed my side. It was a barely there touch, but it scorched the skin beneath my cotton shirt all the same. “I never do anything expecting you to owe me for it. Sooner or later, you’ll realize I’m telling the truth.”
Just as he started to pull his hand away from my hip, I reached back and shackled his wrist. This was a very stupid idea, but tonight I was past caring. I was so damned sick and tired of one thing after another going wrong. Tonight, I wanted one thing to go right. I wanted—needed—him to touch me. I needed to sate this burning desire for him, consequences be damned.
I moved his hand beneath my shirt, placing his palm flat against my stomach.
“Kira,” he said, his whisper a warning this time.
“Please.” Was I begging? Yes, the fuck I was. But in this moment, I didn’t care. “Please, Beckett.”
“Please what?” he said, his voice a low, sexy growl that instantly ignited every nerve ending in my body.
“Pleasetouch me.”
I guided his hand further north, reminded of the interruption that kept him from cupping my breast on that country road. If Aspen hadn’t called—if I’d left my phone on silent—how far would things have gone that night? The wetness pooling between my legs suggestedall the way.
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
“You’re sure?” he asked, fingertips lingeringon the very edge of my bra. My nipples ached for him to reach up.
“Yes,” I panted.
“Then, Kira?”
“Yes?”
