2. BECKETT
BECKETT
“To Zane and Ava. For fighting against all odds and making their way to each other.” Jace toasts, yelling over the club’s music as he pops open a bottle of champagne, letting it pour everywhere.
Zane is all smiles, his arm wound protectively around Ava’s waist. Both her hands rest atop her round belly, her aura radiating happiness, love, and contentment.
We landed in Vegas a couple of hours ago and went directly to Ava’s concert. It was an absolute blast since we got VIP tickets. Now we’re at the after-party, in a very exclusive club, for their joint bachelor and bachelorette party.
Everyone is having alcohol except for Ava, for obvious reasons, and me—the recovering addict, recently out of rehab. A Morgan as a recovering addict? How shameful?! Well, I never claimed to be one of the good ones, now did I?
My eyes wander around the table, taking in everyone’s jovial state before my eyes finally land on the intruder—Quinn Atwood. She’s engaged in deep conversation with my sister, Ella, who says something funny, causing her to throw her head back in laughter.
I nudge Landon, my best friend and her brother. “Dude, I can’t believe you brought your sister.”
His smile drops, and he turns to gaze at her with an annoyed look. “I didn’t bring her. She followed me, and if you really have to blame someone, blame your brother.”
When Quinn snuck onto the plane, I expected Jace to kick her off, but I was shocked when instead, he invited her to join us. I don’t even know what she wants from him, and to be honest, I don’t care—it’s none of my business. All I know is that Quinn and I have never gotten along.
Landon and I have been friends for almost two decades, so I’ve known Quinn for just as long, but for some reason, she has never liked me.
In her defense, she’s not the only one—all of Wrangler Creek hates me.
I messed up big time and did something that turned the whole town against me.
But Quinn seemed to dislike me way before the incident, and since I’m someone who matches energy, I’ve learned to dish back what she dishes out.
She must feel me staring at her because she turns and meets my eyes, her smile dropping as she glares at me.
“And why are you here again?” I yell from across the table.
“Not for you, that’s for sure.” She scoffs with an eye roll before resuming her conversation with Ella.
They start doing tequila shots, which I’m tempted to advise them against, but they are both adults, and the purpose of Vegas is to have fun, so I let them be.
I’m not new to Vegas—I’ve been here loads of times—but it’s my first time being here sober and in the company of my family. Before this, I used to come here for competitions, and my kind of after-parties were full of debauchery.
Zane and Ava were absolutely clear about no strippers, so the club we’re at is one of the tame ones—just music, booze, gambling, and the perfect ambience.
Ella drags Quinn to the dance floor before they proceed to the bar for more shots. The group breaks up bit by bit as everyone wanders off to do their own thing, but I stay in the booth where I can keep an eye on my sister and her newfound friend.
This is my first time in a club, surrounded by so much temptation, knowing that I cannot indulge myself. It’s hard, but I knew this day would come, so I am ready, and I am not going to relapse.
From the corner of my eye, I see Quinn and Ella leave the bar and walk toward the direction of the bathroom. They leave their drinks unattended, which is the one unbreakable rule while clubbing, especially as women.
Begrudgingly, I leave my safe space in the booth and walk up to the bar to watch their drinks. I know it will take a while, so I order a Shirley Temple as I wait.
After disappearing for half an hour, Landon surprises me by walking up to me with two ladies, one on each side, looking very proud of himself.
“This is my best friend, Beck. Say hello, girls,” he introduces with a smug grin.
“Hi, Beck,” they chorus.
“Ladies,” I respond, tipping my hat at them.
They squeal at the gesture before one of them leaves Landon’s side to get closer to me.
“I love your accent,” she whispers seductively.
“Thank you.”
“Would you like to party?” the long-legged brunette asks, sticking her tongue out at me to show me the pink pill on her tongue.
Usually, I’d be all for whatever this is, but I’m done with that phase of my life. “Sorry, love, my party days are long over.”
She looks a bit disappointed but smiles nonetheless. “That’s too bad, but in case you change your mind, here.” She whispers as she takes my hand and places a similar pill on my palm, only this one is white.
She leans up on her tiptoes, kisses my cheek before joining Landon and her friend once more.
“More for me,” Landon shrugs just before he whisks them away.
He’s clearly drunk, but I trust him to be able to handle himself.
I’m about to give up on waiting for the girls and just take their drinks back to the table when Quinn walks up to me. I look around for Ella to find her on the dance floor with Ava and Zane watching them like a hawk.
“What are you doing here?” Quinn asks, scowling at me.
“Being responsible,” I reply, not appreciating her tone.
She looks confused, wincing a bit. I’m about to ask what’s wrong when she speaks up. “My head is killing me. Is that aspirin?”
She’s talking about the pill in my hand that I have yet to dispose of. Before I can answer, she snatches it from me.
“That’s not—“ I yell in panic, but I’m too late as she’s already taken it. I grab her face, my hand around her jaw. “Quinn, spit it out.”
“What’s wrong with you?!” she screams at me. “Take your hands off me.”
“Spit it out!”
“Why?”
“That’s not aspirin you just took—that was ecstasy,” I inform her.
“You’ve given me drugs?!” she shouts in a panic.
“I didn’t give it to you. You snatched it from me,” I defend. “Have you already swallowed it?”
She nods with a terrified look in her eyes.
“Do you have a gag reflex? Maybe we can trigger it and make you throw up?” I suggest.
“I don’t. I’m going to die, aren’t I?” she cries, burying her face in her hands.
I can’t help but laugh. “Calm down, Atwood. It’s just one pill—you’re going to be fine. Just don’t leave my side.”
She lifts her head. “Why?”
“You’ll need someone looking out for you once the pills kick in.”
“What’s going to happen to me?”
“You’re going to have a very good time,” I grin as I pass her my Shirley Temple.
She’s already tipsy, and now that she’s taken the ecstasy, it’s about to get wild, so it’s better if she doesn’t have any more alcohol.
I lead her back to the empty booth and pour her some water. She fights me on it, but I make her drink the whole glass.
“I don’t feel anything,” she says after a couple of minutes.
“Oh, you will. Trust me.”
And, oh boy, does she.
It takes about twenty minutes of her panicking and trying to gaslight herself into thinking the drugs won’t work on her before they finally do. It’s funny at first, watching her freak out, until it’s not anymore.
“I’m feeling hot,” Quinn whines as she starts tugging on her shirt as if intending to take it off.
“What are you doing?” I scold as I reach for her hands to stop her.
“I need to take my clothes off,” she pouts, struggling against me, but I’m almost twice her size, so she stands no chance.
“And that’s our cue. I am taking you back to your room,” I decree, helping her onto her feet.
“I don’t have a room,” she reminds me.
Oh yeah, that’s right—she was supposed to room with Ella. I look for my sister on the dance floor, but she is nowhere to be seen. She must be off somewhere with Ava and Zane. I don’t have time to look for her without abandoning Quinn.
After thinking on it for a minute, I realize that I only have one option left. “I’ll take you to my room.”
She stumbles as we walk out of the booth, so I swoop her up into my arms bridal style, carrying her out of the club and toward the elevators. Good thing our rooms are upstairs, so we don’t have to go far.
We alight on my floor, and I let us into my room.
“Sit here. I’ll get you a cold towel. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” I say to Quinn as I set her down on the bed.
She gives me a thumbs-up and a firm head nod. “Okay.”
So cute.
So this is what a non-stuck-up Quinn looks like. She’s quite adorable this way.
After dampening a towel, I walk back into the bedroom and find Quinn in the same position I left her, only she’s stripped down to her underwear.
“What happened to your clothes?” I exclaim, looking around for them, but they are nowhere in sight.
“They were too hot,” she laments.
I try my best not to be rude and stare, but how can I not when it’s just the two of us in the room? I walk up to her and hand her the towel. “Use this. I’ll get you one of my t-shirts.”
Instead of taking the towel, she grabs my arm and tugs me forward. I lose my footing since I was not expecting her to do that and land on the bed. When I compose myself and move to sit up, she crawls onto my lap, astride me, her arms around my neck.
“I like your short hair,” she compliments, raking her nails through my scalp.
They shaved it in rehab, and it’s still growing back.
“Thank you,” I cough awkwardly, wondering what is happening.
Is she attempting to flirt with me? She really is high. The Quinn I know wouldn’t dare touch me with a hundred-foot pole.
“Quinn, we should not be doing this,” I warn her.
“Doing what?” she mumbles in a low, seductive tone, nibbling on my earlobe.
Yeah, she is definitely flirting with me.
I shake my head and pull away, but she grabs my face and kisses me.
I stay firm and refuse to kiss her back, but then she starts grinding on me, and my dick stirs to life.
Here I am, with a gorgeous woman on my lap, fighting against every instinct in me to toss her onto the bed and have my way with her.
But I can’t do this. This is my best friend’s younger sister—she is forbidden ground.
Not to mention the fact that she is high out of her fucking mind. If I continue, she will hate me even more when she sobers up.
When she realizes that I’m not kissing her back, she pulls back and grabs my face with both hands. “Beck, if you don’t touch me, I’ll go back to the bar and find someone who will.”
“No,” I growl, fisting both her wrists in one of my hands and holding them behind her.
She smirks at me and licks my cheek. “Kinky. I love it. Now let’s do more.”
Fuck, why is she tempting me like this?!
Landon will have my head if I let something happen to his sister, but he will also chop off my balls if I touch her. There is no scenario in which I walk out unscathed. I weigh my options and realize that there is only one solution to this predicament that I can live with.
I lean forward, and she meets me halfway, our lips meeting in a kiss. She smiles, knowing she’s won.
I’m not going all the way with her, but I will give her an orgasm that will hopefully knock her out till morning.
I don’t want her touching me since that’s how things will go south, so I keep both her hands pinned behind her as I use the other to reach for the valley between her legs.
Her panties are soaked, and I find myself groaning into the kiss.
Pushing the flimsy material aside, I find her wet lower lips. Quinn moans and bites my lower lip. It’s painfully pleasurable, but this is about her, not me.
I sink two of my fingers into her pussy and finger-fuck her while my thumb rubs against her clit.
I wish it was my dick instead, but I’m smart enough to know that I cannot indulge myself.
She is a moaning mess on my lap, writhing with pleasure, whispering my name over and over again, her head thrown back in pleasure.
Fuck, she’s so tight.
I lower my head and start nibbling on the exposed part of her cleavage. I really want to take her breasts out and suck on her nipples, but I’m trying my best to stay tame. She has amazing breasts—almost a C-cup, round, tan, and oh so irresistible.
Wanting this torture to be over already, I speed up my fingers, kissing her neck and chest. The sound of her juices sloshing all around my fingers fills the room as I hold her on my lap, giving her what she needs.
“Fuck, I’m cumming,” she warns, so I maintain my pace.
I feel her walls clamp around my fingers a moment before she shatters around me, her whole body shaking as her orgasm tears through her. She lays her head on my shoulder to catch her breath, mewling slightly when I pull my fingers out of her.
I pick her up and lay her on the bed.
“I want more,” she moans in protest, refusing to let go of me.
“Okay, but let’s take a break first,” I request.
She nods but still refuses to let go, so I’m forced to lie down with her.
Like I predicted, she passes out in minutes, but any time I try to pry her off me, she moans in her sleep and stirs awake.
I give up and cover her with the comforter, deciding to lay with her until she’s fully asleep.
She’ll be sober by morning, so I hope she won’t kill me when she realizes what I’ve done.
In my defense, it was the least I could do to honor her wishes without fucking her.
My dick is painfully hard in my pants and doesn’t seem to have the intention of going down anytime soon. It’s going to be a long night of blue balls for me.