Totally fucking getting off on this.

And her doing that ramped him past reason.

He switched nipples and she dry humped him (or wet humped him, as the case was) until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped her hair, forced her mouth to his, drove his tongue inside, then her lower body jerked and she gasped sweet and hot into his mouth when he tore her panties at the side.

Beck broke the kiss and shoved them out of the way so they were hanging useless on her thigh, looked into her dazed eyes and demanded, “Inside.”

Panting against his lips, Janna grasped his cock. He felt the head slide through her soak, gritting his teeth as it went, that felt so goddamned good.

He caught, and she bore down.

Both of their heads went back, his hitting wall, and he felt hers fly, his hand still in her hair.

He kept her head back as he righted his neck and watched as she rode him, her big, pretty tits bouncing in his face.

He latched on her nipple as best he could with his mouth through her movements and drew as deep as possible.

She whimpered, holding his head to her, riding him wild, slamming into him.

“Beck,” she whispered.

He let her tit go. “Yeah.”

“Beck,” she gasped.

He brought her face to his, trying to catch her eyes, but they were unfocused.

Fucking hot.

“Yeah, baby.”

She rode him rough.

“Beck,” she cried out.

He twisted her to her back and took over the ride, pounding into her as she came, sliding his hand between them and going at her clit.

“Too . . . too . . . can’t,” she forced out.

“Keep coming,” he demanded.

Her body bucked under him, legs wrapping around his thighs, nails dragging deep up his back and he bowed away from a pain that felt fucking good and went at her harder.

“Beck!” she yelped, jolting now, nails digging into his scalp, “Yes. Yes, honey. Don’t stop,” she panted, still coming.

He kept at her and he kept at her, and he kept doing it until the straining arch of her pressing into his torso felt desperate, her head was so far back, all he had was her throat, and he’d lost her noises.

Only then did he stop at her clit, bury himself inside and sink his teeth into the flesh at the side of her tit, exploding, coming apart, shooting deep into Janna.

Christ, unbelievable.

Fucking amazing.

But yeah.

Unbelievable.

Her fingers were sifting through his hair when he came down.

He licked at his mark before he moved up.

Her pretty face was satisfied, triumphant as she stroked his cheek and along his jaw with the backs of her fingers.

He disregarded the triumphant.

And the satisfied.

And focused on something else.

“Think you got something to share,” he remarked, his voice lower, rougher, his balls drained, his cock spent, and that was magnificent.

This shit still wasn’t right.

“What?” she purred.

The woman, his woman, his bashful, prissy Janna who’d ignored his balls and put on pajamas, got timid and wouldn’t meet his eyes even after he’d eaten her out straight to an orgasm while fucking her ass with a finger . . . purred.

“Seems you’ve had some practice, and not on me.”

She blinked.

“Think you might wanna share how all of a sudden you give really great head?” he asked.

How he did wasn’t nice.

But it was honest.

“I-I’m,” she stammered in apparent disbelief, “I’m not stepping out on you, Beck.”

“We fuck ungloved. You are,” he did a one-shouldered shrug, “we’re not exclusive. I still gotta know.”

“We’re not exclusive?”

“You’re the only woman I go at. But not sure with what just happened that I got that comin’ back to me. You said you had to work today. Make up for a day of lost production. You at work today, Janna?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He stared at her, still semi-hard inside her, trying to deny the way he was feeling.

Torn up.

Raw inside.

A woman did not give mildly enjoyable head one day and become an expert the next.

He handled her so carefully, he hadn’t even offered training.

And it went without saying, his last woman not only informed on his club right under his nose but fell in love with another guy. He’d pushed her to that, it still happened.

And maybe he pushed Janna to the same kind of thing.

So yeah.

This shit was not right.

“Not bein’ a dick, but I think we both know suckin’ me off was not your strong suit.”

Her eyes slid away.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

Her eyes slid back, and she said swiftly, “I talked with Dryden.”

Say what?

“Who the fuck is Dryden?”

“He’s our lead in the movie we’re doing. He . . . he and Shaughnessy, she’s the female lead,” she explained. “Well, everyone is buzzing about it on the set. They’re so getting together. They have like, crazy good chemistry. It’s like, when they’re in a scene, whatever that scene is, unless Re . . . that is, Tally calls cut or something, it’s just them.”

Beck stared at her and said nothing.

“So today was a . . . Tally’s on leave and Meryl’s directing and she’s not as good as Tally, but now it doesn’t matter because Shaughnessy and Dryden are in a groove and they filmed, uh . . . today they filmed an, um . . . blowjob scene.”

Well, shit.

Beck relaxed into her.

“I watched,” she whispered.

“Right,” he whispered back.

“I don’t normally watch,” she told him something he could have guessed.

“Right,” he repeated.

“And then I . . . well, it was awkward, but after, I asked Dryden what, I mean, what worked for him.”

“My guess, he was pretty thorough,” Beck remarked.

“Well . . . yeah. But he said the most important thing is that Shaughnessy doesn’t get into her head. It’s just them. Not on a set or anything. Just them. She doesn’t want it to be good for him, even though she does. She doesn’t want it to be good on camera, even though it is. She gets into what they’re doing . . . together. What they both get out of it. Shaughnessy just likes sucking, uh . . . cock. That is, his, uh . . . cock. And he gets the good out of it, but she also gets the good out of it, so that makes it better.”

She swallowed, looking pained, before she finished.

“I just had to get out of my head and be about you and me and just feel what was happening. Oh, and not rush it. Dryden said to draw it out. He said the, well . . . climax is better that way.”

She had that chat with this guy.

For him.

She put herself out there.

Just so she could give him a better blowjob.

It was time to do this.

“You went pretty far out of your comfort zone to make sure you give a good blowjob, Janna,” he stated impassively.

“I . . . yeah,” she muttered miserably.

“Why are you with me?”

Her focus grew acute on him.

But she didn’t answer him.

“Why are you with me?” he pushed.

“I told you. You’re a gentle man and you make me happy and—”

A gentle man.

Yes.

It was time to do this.

“There were conditions to me getting out of jail after me and my club beat the shit out of my last old lady. I’m not meeting those conditions, so I’ll probably have to go back in,” he told her.

Her eyes got big. “Wh-what?”

“So probably good for both of us to know, since you’re so all in with this, go that extra mile, why the fuck you’re with me.”

“We’re the same, Beck.”

“We’re not the same, Janna.”

“Yes. We are. We’re both misfits.”

Beck stilled.

Janna kept talking.

“We both found ourselves in places we weren’t meant to be, with people we weren’t meant to be with, doing things we weren’t meant to be doing.”