“You got any more I haven’t seen yet?”
Jordan sucked in a breath, and the tiniest whine escaped. He licked his lips, swallowed, and slowly turned his head until he was looking Beck right in the eye.
“Why don’t you take me to bed and find out?”
* * * *
Jordan didn’t have any more tattoos. Beckett was very thorough in his investigation. He inspected every single inch of Jordan’s skin, just to make sure.
Twice.13
As far as cities went, Portland was a good one. Beck had spent all of his formative years a scant forty-five minutes away in Newberg, but trips to the city were always a real treat. As much as he loved the farm—the trees, the green, the crisp, fresh air, and the wide open spaces—he’d always been a little enamored of the hustle of the city. As a kid it had seemed like a different world, and he was always eager to go. But he usually couldn’t wait to get home again.