Page 82 of After the Burn

The building was eerily quiet. Everyone who wasn’t on guard duty at the wall had stayed to watch the fight.

Beck pushed the front door open and guided me inside. The look on his face was heated, and my nipples hardened even as my panties grew wet.

Sunlight streamed through dusty windows, casting golden streaks on the floor as the scent of old wood and men's musk permeated the hallway.

Beck finally stopped outside one of the rooms and looked at me. “I don’t know if I can be gentle right now.”

“Did I ask for gentle?” My gaze drifted over him.

There wasn’t an inch of exposed skin that wasn’t bruised, scraped, or bleeding. Sweat slid down the carved muscles of his stomach, and I had the urge to drop to my knees and follow the same path with my tongue.

This man was a warrior, and he’d just fought for me. Damn, if that didn’t make me burn for him.

“Where’s Max?” I hadn’t seen him at the fight, so I assumed he was in their room. But if he had been, he’d be growling and scratching at the door by now. I’d missed Beck terribly, but I’d missed my dog, too.

“He’s with Rory. Harper didn’t want to bring her to the fights, and I didn’t think it was wise to bring Max. It was a win-win.” Beck kissed the tip of my nose.

Before the meteor shower, some women might have overlooked a man like Beck because of his background. However, that same background had shaped him into someone capable of thriving in today's world.

“Do you ever regret choosing me?”

“No.” The fire in his eyes burned hotter at my question.

Without thinking, I reached toward the cut above his eyebrow. “Then remind me what it feels like to be yours.”

Beck wrapped one of those huge, muscular arms around me and pushed the door open. “I’m covered in blood.”

“I noticed,” I said as I approached and sat on what I believed was his bed. I observed signs of the wrap he had used on his hands, and the bed was untidy, with his pillow displaced and the blanket crumpled at the end. The other bed, made to military standards, likely belonged to Adrian. A small cot nearby suggested that Lucas had slept there.

“Seeing you like this reminds me of the lengths you’ll go to keep me with you.” I stared into green eyes locked on my face. “And I like you covered in the blood of our enemies.”

Beck’s hand slowly lifted, hesitating just beside my cheek. Still giving me every opportunity to stop him. “I like it, too.”

Silly boy. I’d sooner stop the wind from blowing than do that.

His fingertips brushed my skin with a tenderness that contradicted his earlier claim. “I’ve missed touching you, Taryn.”

Heat rushed over my body. “So, touch me.”

His eyes searched mine one last time, as if to make sure this was what I wanted. After all this time, it baffled me that he still didn’t understand the depth of my feelings for him.

At last, discovering what he had been searching for, Beck gave his usual confident smile and rose to his feet. Slowly, his fingers grasped the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down until only a tight pair of boxer briefs remained.

Shit, this man was fire.

His body was layered with muscle after muscle, and a soft dusting of hair covered his chest. The intricate tattoos on his arms and chest made him even more tempting. “Like what you see, Fox?”

I nodded, words beyond me at this moment.

He laughed, then pushed his underwear down his thighs and stepped out of them.

My eyes were glued to his massive dick, and my mouth watered. I’d never considered a dick beautiful, but his was. Smooth, tanned skin stretched over the long length; a slight upward curve led to the perfect mushroom head.

Noticing the hunger in my eyes, a drop of pre-cum slowly trickled out.

Beck chuckled darkly, the sound low and rough, as he inched closer to me without touching. His lips met mine in a slow, meaningful kiss that wiped my mind clean. The kiss flared sharply—hot but contained—as though he were carefully gauging how far to push before losing himself.

As he leaned back, I pulled my shirt over my head and unhooked my bra. Beck took hold of the straps, gently lowering them off my shoulders before discarding my bra on the floor. Then he helped me to my feet, unbuttoned my pants, and pushed them down my legs as I stepped out of them, leaving me in the pink lacy panties I had packed in my bag when we left the farmhouse.