Off Base(24)

Beck settled her on her feet and took her hand. “We go somewhere and talk.”

“Talk,” she said dazedly, already craving the feel of his spectacular body again. “Right.”

Customers parted as Beck led her out of the bar. And damn if his lack of interest in the gaping crowd didn’t attract her even more. As far back as her earliest memory, she’d been a fixture on base and no one had ever deemed her worth the trouble of pissing off her father. Or dealing with the antics of her teenage years, for which she’d become notorious. It alarmed her that she still didn’t have this man pegged. Shouldn’t a well-mannered, aspiring peach farmer from Georgia care about incurring her father’s wrath?

The cool night air felt like perfection against her flushed skin as they entered the dark parking lot, but her relief was short-lived. Beck strode toward her car and since he had a bear grip on her hand, she had no choice but to stumble after him. “I tasted bourbon when I kissed you. Were you planning on drinking and driving?”

“No,” she drew out. “Darla was my ride and she doesn’t drink.”

“Tonight, neither did I. Cough up your keys.”

She ground to a halt. “No one drives that car but me.”

Beck spun her around, wedging her backside against the driver’s side door. The second his body touched hers, she went totally pliant, the air whooshing from her lungs. Grab me, touch me, take me. Instead of doing any of those things, Beck tilted his head as if perplexed by Kenna’s reaction. “You’re either spitting fire or turning sweet on me.” She felt his half smile down to her toes. “I’m starting to think you’re fighting the same battle I am.”

Aw, hell. That definitely wasn’t his belt buckle pressing against her stomach. No sudden movements. “What battle would that be?”

He braced his hands on the car’s roof, stretching the T-shirt across his mountain range of muscle. When her diminished willpower gave her no choice but to memorize the sight, he made a sound like, huh. Perfect. The ex-virgin had become self-aware. “The battle not to pick you up and drop you down on my hard-on. That battle.”

Heavy heat spread between her legs, assaulting her senses. “Oh, that one,” she whispered.

He dragged his body against her, side to side. “Yeah.”

“I, um…” Her neck lost power, sending her head falling back. “I thought you wanted to talk.”

“Oh, we’re getting there.” Beck trailed his open mouth over her ear, breathing into her hair. “Today hasn’t been my best, Kenna. Put your hands on me and make me forget.”

His husky plea plucked a string inside of her and it went against her nature to deny him comfort. She couldn’t withstand the draw. Not after the expression of defeat she’d seen on his face inside the bar. Her fingers moved on their own, tracing the waistband of his jeans, across the tight planes of his stomach that hollowed beneath her touch. Hungry with the need to please him, she smoothed her palms up his ridged torso, dragging her nails down over his nipples once she reached the top.

“God,” he groaned, his callused hands fisting in the hem of her skirt. “I know how to make you come now. Know you like it rough. Just let me.” He wedged his thigh between her legs. Using the hem of her skirt for leverage, Beck rocked her forward, making her moan. “This is what I see now when you walk around in these short pieces of nothing that hug your ass. I see something I can twist my hands in. Something I can lift just an inch or two and see the too-tight * I’m already an addict for. You’ve done this to me in two days, and I can’t go back to seeing this as just a skirt. Or think of you as a one-night stand. I can’t go back to not f*cking you.”

“Yes. Okay. Yes.” She clutched his broad shoulders and bucked her hips, riding the hard length of his thigh. Her inhibitions and any semblance of rational thought pulled a Houdini, and she couldn’t care less as long as he kept touching her. Kept talking. Warning bells were pealing somewhere in the distance telling her this was the point of no return, but she didn’t heed them. Couldn’t. “Please, Beck. Let’s go somewhere.”

“Thank Christ.” He dropped his forehead onto her shoulder. “I thought you were done with me.”

Kenna’s equilibrium pitched. Apparently not done yet. Apprehension twined with the desire that still ran rampant. This undeniable need was new and terrifying, but she didn’t have the ability to deny him. He made her feel too…right. Like she was supposed to be here all along and hadn’t known.

“Keys,” he prompted, brushing the hair away from her face. “I’m driving.”

“Just this once,” she said, wondering if her words had a double meaning. Could she open herself up, just this once? He was leaving in a matter of days. Maybe that was her excuse to abandon caution. No matter what happened tonight, the inevitable would happen and he’d go away. Jesus, if he left tonight, she didn’t think getting over their time together would be so simple. Why not add one more memory before she was forced to recover?

*

Beck felt Kenna’s smirk as he crouched down to fit inside the car, the steering wheel digging into his chest until he moved the seat back to its farthest setting. Trying not to be obvious, he released a pent-up breath, nice and slow. He’d taken a gamble bossing her around. Truth be told, he’d half expected her to slap him across the face. Everything he’d said had been true, however. Starting with the fact that he needed her. Tonight. And after tonight.