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  I'm going to give him a hell of a lot of trouble.

  He senses me staring at him and looks up, his lips drawing into a shocked "O." He grabs his friend's arm to get her attention, and Jenn gets that same surprised look. The dude talking to him takes one look at me and moves away.

  Good choice, motherfucker.

  "Matthew?" he says when I reach him.

  "I'm taking you home." The words are raw, and I didn't mean to say them. That damn beast inside got control for a second.

  He narrows those eyes that shoot dagger-glares at me. "I don't think so. I'm happy here. And you don't get to tell me what to do."

  "That's not what you were thinking earlier today."

  He sputters, and I don't blame him. What the hell is my problem?

  Jenn grabs his arm. "Do you want me to call somebody?" she asks Beckett, eyeing me nervously.

  I'm glad he has a friend who worries about him. "You don't ever need to protect him from me."

  She and Beckett exchange an entire conversation using just their eyes, and then Jenn tells us she's going to go find her boyfriend. Beckett might be pissed, but he’s not scared.

  After she leaves, Beckett gives me a look that might work on his students, but doesn't do shit except get me hotter for him. I am on fucking fire. Then he downs his drink the way he probably learned in college.

  He sets his empty glass on the bar behind him. "You should go. I want to stay here."

  "Thought maybe we could have another lesson tonight." My words are meant to be light, but I know they don't sound like it. I'm thirty seconds away from throwing him over my shoulder and hauling his ass out of here.

  He shakes his head like he's dismissing me. "I changed the course objectives."

  "Oh yeah? What are they now?"

  "I decided I don't need to get to date number three. A one-night stand to take the edge off is a better plan."

  The air in my lungs freezes. I don't think he's bluffing. "You're just going to pick some random guy and get it over with then, huh?"

  Beckett shrugs. "It's not your problem. I'm sorry I dragged you into it."

  "So, who's the lucky guy?" I look around. "Tell me is isn't the punk I scared off already."

  I've never seen the mask he's wearing now. Tough guy. Tired of my shit. "I think I'll have better luck if you leave."

  Like. Hell.

  "Why don't you give me a dry run? Work out the kinks. Pretend I'm the guy. Show me how you're getting me in your bed."

  He narrows his eyes. "You're being a real asshole, you know that?"

  Yeah, baby. I know that.

  "Just show me, Beckett. You wanted my advice, remember? You wanted me to help you figure out what you were doing wrong."

  He glances around, probably looking for a drink to throw in my face, but everyone around us is holding theirs and his glass is empty. With a sigh, he reaches out to me and straightens the collar of the flannel I'd thrown on. Then he gives me a little smile and leans in to smell my neck. "I like that cologne. What’s it called?" he asks.

  I’m not wearing cologne.

  "I...ah..." I don't know why I'm tongue-tied.

  “I’m wearing a new one, too. Do you like it?” He offers me his neck, so I lean down to sniff him, and it seems like the same cologne he's been wearing that usually drives me nuts. It's a light scent, not particularly evocative. But it's sort of...elusive. I can only ever get hints of it at home, and it makes my gut clench for a deeper pull of the scent.

  As he brings his hand down, he skims the front of my shirt. "Well, do you like it?"

  "I...yeah...sure."

  He slides his hand around my wrist and reads the time on my watch. "It's getting late." He licks his lip and stares at mine. "Luckily, tomorrow is Sunday and I don't have to do anything but lounge around in bed all day."

  Now I'm picturing him sliding around in my sheets. And that's his plan. He's...he's flirting with me.

  Well played, Becks. He took fucking notes from our lesson in the mall. The innocent touches, the offering me his neck. And now I’m ready to bend him over a bar stool. From innocent flirting. What has he done to me?

  I am not the in-control guy full of confidence and swagger that I was this morning in that mall.

  He lets go of my wrist and leans against the bar on his elbows, which thrusts his chest out. I step between his legs, lean down into his space without touching him. I stare at his Adam’s apple and grunt, which makes him swallow harder.

  "You pick out this lucky man yet?"

  He looks around the room like he's bored and shrugs. "Maybe the guy in the red shirt down there." He's tilting his head to the end of the bar, but I don't bother looking.

  "You don't want him."

  "No?"

  I shake my head. "No." My heart is beating a primal beat, and my blood is too hot. "You want me."

  He licks that lip again. "A guy like you, remember?"

  His words, the echo of our conversation earlier, are like a bullet tearing its way through me. Reminding me how I treated him today. How no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do or don't do, I am going to hurt him.

  My eyes move from that damn lip down to the column of his throat, where his pulse jumps like I'm touching him. I'm hard. Maybe harder than I've ever been.

  "We're going home. Now." Before I can't stop myself from taking him here, in this bar, in front of God and everyone. Because I want to mark him. Claim him. And I want everyone to know he's mine. "You're going to break me tonight, Beckett. And I'm going to teach you how."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  BECKETT

  We don't speak much the whole way home. I don't want him to change his mind like he obviously did when we left the mall earlier today. But I also don't understand what happened to get him to come find me tonight.

  He wants to teach me to break him. I'm not even sure I know what that means.

  But I really, really want to find out.

  We get into the house and are beset with uncomfortable silence. The kind that makes the ticking of the clock on the mantel sound like it's super loud. Before yesterday, we didn’t ever have uncomfortable or awkward silences. It's sad. But if I went back in time, if I never told him I was a virgin or asked him for advice, then I never would have seen that hungry look in his eyes today. I never would have watched him prowl through a crowded bar looking for me so he could bring me home.

  Does he even know how that affected me? If he'd have said, "Come with me," it wouldn't have been such a big deal. But no..."We're going home," means more. At least it does to me. Home means something, doesn't it?

  But I can see he's rethinking this already.

  If he thinks he can just keep yanking me around, he's got another thing coming.

  "What was it that made you come find me tonight?" I ask. "Was it that you wanted me, or you just don't want anyone else to have me?"

  His jaw squares, and he presses his lips into a firm line. "I'm supposed to be teaching you how to seduce a man, aren't I? I can't do that if you're not here."

  A red haze clouds my vision. "Oh, right. I see. So, are you going to teach me how to fuck and then send me back to The Dive? Is that how this works?" He winces. "You could have just left me there tonight. I'd have figured it out on my own. I'm a smart man. College educated and all."

  "I knew you were planning something rash. So I went there to stop you."

  "Something rash?"

  Whose voice was that? It couldn't have been mine. It sounded like a deep, gravelly rumble. Not my kindergarten teacher voice for sure.

  "Something rash," he repeats dully. But his body language is clear that he already regrets what might happen next. He doesn't want me—he wants to take care of me, maybe. He doesn't want me to sleep with someone else, certainly. But that's not the same. And it's not enough for me.

  "I don't believe this." I toss my phone and wallet on the table by the door. "Fine. You did it. You stopped me. Thank you for saving me from myself. You've done your good deed. It's
too bad you have to keep acting like you want to have sex with me to get me to do what you want—but you're a real trooper for sticking it out. Don't forget to take your pill. I'm going to bed."

  Tomorrow, I will look for an apartment. This isn't going to work for me anymore. I can't keep letting my desire for Matthew stop me from living my life, and I know I'll never give any other guy a real chance if I think there's even the smallest chance with Matthew.

  And there isn't. He won't let there be. I don't know why he's so conflicted. I'm sure he'd never tell me. I try hard to tell myself it's his problem and not an extension of my normal man issues. But it's hard. It's so damn hard not to take it personally that something about me seems to repel men even if they seem all-in for a few minutes.

  My throat is tightening, and I consider going for a run. I don’t...run...very often. It’s not my go-to stress reliever. But I need something to burn off this resentment taking over.

  I make it halfway across the room when the steely band of Matthew's arm reaches around me and pulls me into his chest. "I'm sorry, Becks. I'm sorry I keep screwing this up."

  God. He is so big and strong behind my back. I melt into him even though I don't want to. I can't stop craving his touch. "I don't understand what you want, Matthew. I don't think even you know."

  "I know exactly what I want. I just don't feel like I should have it."

  "Why?" I reach for his other hand, the one that isn't gripping me so hard into him, and bring it to my cheek. I press my face into it like a cat. "Why shouldn't you have what you want?"

  I kiss his palm, and he gasps. The world spins as he turns me in his arms and walks me backward to the wall so quickly I don’t think my feet touch the ground. I'm trapped between him and the wall.

  The expression on his face is one of near agony, though. "I don't deserve you, Beckett. You're so good and nice. I'm not the guy for you. The things I want to do to you..." He slams his eyes closed as a shiver wracks his body. "I want to defile you. Do you understand? Rough and raw and filthy, baby. That's how I want to take you."

  His eyes open again, and the way he is looking at me is positively barbaric. All that masculine power directed at me is overwhelming. My pulse kicks up as a new need claws at me from the inside. I want him to take me. Possess me. I want all that potent male energy covering my body, filling me up.

  He groans, and I blink out of my little trance just as his mouth kicks into a feral grin and he says, "You like that, don't you?" He pushes me against the wall harder so I can feel his solid erection. It's really hard and really big. Really, really big. "Fuck. You’re hard right now, aren’t you?" My face heats because he's right. "I'm going to take you tonight. I'm going to feel your hot ass clenching around my cock. I'm going to make you lose your fucking mind. Make you crave my dick like a drug. Maybe then you'll understand how much I fucking want you."

  I moan, the sound so full of longing I should be embarrassed, but I'm not. "Yes. Yes, please, Matthew. I need you so much."

  He buries his face in my neck and groans again. "You smell so good. I can't get enough of you. I bet you taste good, too. I bet I'm going to get addicted to the taste of your cock."

  I arch into him then, angling the best I can so his cock will rub against where I need him most. There are too many clothes between us, though, and I exhale a frustrated sound when the friction isn't enough.

  "You getting greedy, baby? You want my cock in you already?"

  "Yes. Please."

  He pulls back and looks into my eyes. "I haven't even kissed you yet." Despite the primal fire burning in his eyes, he seems to bank it when he runs his finger from my temple down my jaw so gently I am surprised I can feel it. "You're so perfect."

  He presses his lips to my temple, then follows the path his finger made with soft kisses. If he didn't have me pinned to the wall, I don't think my legs would hold me. The sweet kisses undo me in a way even his dirty talk didn't. They are reverent, adoring. That this is the same man who wants to defile me makes me the luckiest guy in the world right now. Because I want it all. I want his sweetness and I want his filthy, filthy passion. I want him to tear me apart and kiss me back together.

  When he gets to my lips, he cups my jaw in those big, rough hands and takes small sips of my mouth like I'm a fine wine to be savored. I'm trying to be patient because these kisses are wonderful, but he's the spark to my tinder, and I know I'm about to burst into flames. I dart my tongue out for a taste of my own, and we combust around his untamed growl. He grinds his stiff cock into my groin and plunges his tongue into my mouth. And I take it. Oh God, do I take it. My fingers are clawing his biceps, but I’m unable to get him close enough while his mouth is basically fucking mine.

  Thinking I'm smart, I lower my hands to his ass, pulling him harder into me so I can grind on that hard erection that has my name on it. On a guttural groan that sounds like it was pulled out of him, he stops kissing me long enough to grab my hands, pinning them to the wall on either side of my head. "You are going to make me come in my jeans if you keep doing that."

  "So take them off."

  "I have plans for you, baby. So you're just going to have to wait."

  I struggle briefly to get control of my hands back but realize that just isn't going to happen. He's too strong. And he wants control right now. Which is delicious, if you ask me, so I stop struggling and cede to him. That fire flares in his eyes again when he feels me submit.

  "Do whatever you want to me, Matthew. I'm yours."

  There's a moment of complete stillness between us—like the one before a jaguar leaps on its prey. Calmly, almost too carefully, he brings my wrists higher above my head and transfers them both to one hand. He cups the back of my neck in the other and brings himself to eye level with me. It's intense, unlike anything I've ever felt, when he looks so deeply into my eyes I feel like he's seeing straight into my soul.

  My pulse is racing, and something wild inside me is unfurling, beating at my bones and skin to be let out. I've never felt this way before. I don't even know how to express it.

  Matthew swallows hard. "You're mine. You've been mine for a long time. I'm not going to fight it anymore, if this is what you want."

  "Yes, yes, I want this."

  "You need to be sure. Once I take you, Beckett, I'm never giving you up. You'll belong to me completely. Forever."

  "And you'll belong to me, Matthew."

  "Fuck, yeah, I will. God, that sounds so amazing." He leans his forehead on mine. "I feel like I've been fighting this so long, and I don't even remember why half the time."

  If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up.

  He's moved those lips to my neck. I had no idea it was such an erogenous zone on me, but I can't stop rocking my hips. He's breathing hard, like he's fighting to contain himself. But I want him wild. "Matthew—I know why I waited." I clutch his hair, bringing his gaze back to my face. "I'm still a virgin because I was waiting for you. All this time, it was you."

  I see the change. If he were some kind of supernatural creature, his fur would come out or his fangs would pop. Instead, he growls and yanks the front of my shirt down hard, tearing fabric and sending buttons skittering across the carpet. He sucks my Adam’s apple, and my body arches, my back bowing.

  "You're mine," he tells me as he starts suckling my skin, sending sparks shooting through my whole body. "Tell me. Say it."

  I can hardly catch my breath, but I say, "I'm yours. Yes. All yours."

  Whatever rejection I was feeling before wasn't about him not desiring me. Knowing Matthew, he probably thinks he's not good enough for me. Or he's got some sense of honor that says he can't mess with his friend's little brother. But knowing that he's this hot for me, for my body, frees me in a way I've never felt.

  I finally understand the power I have. He told me I could break a man like him. He probably didn't know I could put him back together, too.

  I try to move my hands so I can touch him, but he's still got a strong hold on me. "Do you like
this, baby?” He moves down my chest with wet kisses, stopping on my nipple. It’s like a wire shocks me, jolting me. “Yeah, you like that. Does it make you hard?”

  "Everything about you makes me hard, Matthew. Go ahead and check."

  He gives me that feral grin again and bites my nipple. The shock of pain followed by the soothing lick of his tongue makes me cry out.

  "Yes, oh God, yes!"

  "You're my dirty little teacher, aren't you? All sweet words and cookies by day, and fucking filthy man by night. I'm going to learn all your secrets, baby. I'm going to master everything that makes you writhe and moan out in pleasure. I don't think you're ever going to get a full night's sleep again."

  My legs are weakening with every syllable he utters. He undoes my jeans and snakes his hand down my pants. He grasps my cock and we both moan.

  "Fuck, so much pre-cum. Such a good boy, getting ready for me." When he pulls his hand out and licks me off his fingers, I almost pass out I'm so turned on. "Jesus, you taste good. So good. I'll never get enough of you."

  "Take me to bed, Matthew," I plead while I try to kick off my shoes.

  "We haven't been on three dates yet, Becks. Don't you want to wait?" he teases even as we both groan at the contact and friction between our jeans while I try to maneuver my socks off.

  "I don't want to wait." I reach up and suck on the skin under his jaw. "I want you to make me a man. I want to give you everything. Nobody's ever touched my ass before, Matthew." The guttural sound he emits gives me confidence that I've got him where I want him now. "You'll be the first."

  "I'll be your fucking last." He yanks my pants down, taking my boxers with them. As I step out of the legs, he drops to his knees and plants his face between my legs, inhaling deeply, his nose pressed into my balls. I'm not used to this kind of raw intimacy, and I freeze up a little. He presses his cheek to my thigh and looks up at me. "It's all right, Becks. Just relax. I'm going to swallow your sweet dick until my mouth is your whole world and you forget your own name. Give me five minutes, and you'll never be shy with me again."