Hard to Let Go Read Online Free PDF Page B

the denim. His head fell back on a throaty, “Fuck.”
    It was all the invitation she needed. Kat sank into a crouch, her back against the wall, unzipped his jeans and roughly pulled them down over his hips. The outline of his erection filled out the dark gray boxers, and he helped her push those down, too. And then his cock was spilling free of the clothing. And, holy fuck, it was freaking magnificent . Like, work of art magnificent. Thick and long and veined in ways that made her need to tongue him.
    As she took Beckett’s hard length in hand, Kat spied a series of hash marks on his left hip—groups of five vertical lines with a diagonal line across them. In passing, she wondered what they were for, but now was not the time to ask. Instead, she peered up his body, meeting those blazing blue eyes as she licked him from root to tip. The abject need she saw staring down at her drove her on. She licked and stroked him until he was wet and throbbing hard. And then she sucked him in deep.
    And, God, was he a mouthful. So long that even when she had his head buried in the back of her throat, she could still fit her fist around the base of his cock. But never let it be said she didn’t like a challenge.
    Pulling back, she gulped for air, then sucked him in deep again. She went slowly, taking a bit more each time, until Beckett unleashed a near-steady stream of curses and encouragements under his breath. “Yes, Kat. Fuck. Take it, take it.”
    His hands fell to her head. He stroked stray strands off her face, cupped her cheek in his big palm, and tangled his fingers into her hair to guide the pace. His hips began to move and Kat gripped onto the corded muscles of his thick thighs.
    “Look at me,” he rasped, drawing her gaze up his body.
    And holy fucking hell, he’d never looked hotter than he did just then. Arousal drew sharp lines onto his already chiseled features. His mouth hung open. His eyes were hooded and flashing.
    “Ah, fuck,” he bit out. And then he pulled free of her mouth and lifted her up with his hands under her arms like she weighed nothing at all. When she was on her feet, he shoved the soft fabric of her yoga pants and panties down to her ankles in one swift motion. Boxing her body against the wall, he slipped his fingers into the slick heat between her thighs. “Drenched for me, aren’t you?” he asked, lip curling up in the hint of a smile.
    Pretty hard to find his arrogance annoying when the proof of what he said was all over his hand. And when the smug satisfaction of his words made her core clench around the aching emptiness she knew all too well that he could fill—that she wanted him to fill. And when the way he stroked her made her whimper and rock against his fingers.
    So she nodded, and stepped the rest of the way out of her pants.
    Beckett leaned down and kissed her, his fingers still moving against her core, circling her clit, and then moving deeper and finding her opening. He kicked her ankles apart until he could fit his whole hand between her legs and penetrate her fully with his thick middle finger. Kat moaned into the kiss and grasped at Beckett’s shoulder, her hands fisting at the cotton of his T-shirt.
    Beckett broke the kiss to fish something out of his jeans, still hanging around his thighs. His wallet. He flipped it open, reached into the billfold and pulled out a condom. Looking her in the eye, he ripped the foil wrapper open with his teeth. And then he rolled the rubber up the thick column of his cock, glancing at her to see if she was watching.
    She was.
    Because she was so lost in her arousal for him, in this stolen moment with him, that there wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t want what she knew he could give.
    She pushed off the wall and took a step toward the bed.
    “Where you think you’re going?” Beckett growled. And then he lifted her up, her back sliding up the cool wall and her arms going round his neck, hooked his arms under her knees, and lowered her