22. Quinn
22
QUINN
M y heart races as we walk down the hotel corridor, Beau's warm presence close behind me. The card key trembles slightly in my hand as I slide it through the reader.
"You sure about this?" Beau's deep voice sends a shiver down my spine.
I turn to face him, my back against the door. "I haven't been sure about anything since I left Nashville. But this? This feels right."
His large frame fills the doorway as we step inside. The dim light from the bedside lamp casts shadows across his face, making his eyes seem darker, more intense.
"Quinn..." He reaches out, his calloused fingers brushing my cheek. "You're shaking."
"Good observation, Sherlock." I try for humor, but my voice comes out breathy. "Maybe you could do something about that?"
A smile tugs at his beard. "I could think of a few things."
"Less thinking, more doing." I grab his pearl snap shirt, pulling him closer.
His lips meet mine, gentle at first, then with growing intensity. My fingers work at his shirt buttons while his hands tangle in my hair. Each touch sends electricity coursing through me.
The reality of our situation suddenly crashes through my bliss like a bucket of ice water. I pull back, my lips still tingling from his kiss. "Wait, Beau. What about Jarron and Austen? They already hate me. If they find out about this..."
"They don't hate you." His thumb traces my jawline. "Not anymore. But even if they did?—"
"They'll think I'm trying to sleep my way into the band or something equally awful." My hands drop from his chest. "You know how the industry works. How rumors spread."
Beau's deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. "Darlin', what happens between us is nobody's business but ours." He takes off his baseball cap, running fingers through his hair. "Besides, those two idiots are probably passed out in some bar right now, not giving a damn about what we're doing."
"But—"
"No buts." He cups my face in his hands. "Quinn, I've watched you fight tooth and nail for respect in this industry. Hell, you earned mine the moment you stood up to Jarron that first day. This isn't about the band, or the tour, or any of that noise. This is just us."
The sincerity in his eyes melts my resistance. "Just us?"
"Just us." He presses his forehead against mine. "What they don't know won't hurt them. And what they think?" He shrugs. "Well, that stopped being my problem somewhere around the time you walked into that first meeting."
I can't help but laugh. "Smooth talker."
"Only when it matters." His beard tickles my neck as he leans in close. "Now, where were we?"
Beau's eyes scan my face, his fingers tracing the curve of my cheek. "You know you're beautiful, right?"
I swallow hard, trying to keep my composure as I start unbuttoning his pearl snap shirt. "I think you might be biased."
"Not a chance," he murmurs, helping me slide the shirt off his broad shoulders. His hands move to the hem of my sweater dress, pulling it up and over my head in one smooth motion.
I kick off my boots and peel down my leggings, feeling a rush of cool air against my skin. Standing there in just my light blue lace bra and panties, I catch Beau's eyes widen in appreciation.
"Damn, Quinn," he says, voice thick with admiration. "You're... mesmerizing."
A flush creeps up my neck as I reach out to touch his chest. His muscles are solid beneath my fingers, each contour defined. "I didn't know you were hiding all this under those shirts."
He chuckles, low and deep. "I hope you say the same thing about other things I'm hiding."
I laugh, shaking my head. "Always the charmer."
"Only when it matters." He steps closer, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me against him. The heat of his body is intoxicating, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room.
My hands roam over his chest, feeling the play of muscles under his skin. His hands move to the clasp of my bra, deftly unhooking it and letting it fall away.
"Beau," I whisper, not quite sure what else to say.
"Yeah?" His voice is a rumble against my ear.
I look up at Beau, his eyes dark with desire. "Keep going," I whisper, my voice trembling with anticipation.
He nods, a smile playing on his lips as he gently lays me down on the bed. His hands slide down my sides, fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties. With one smooth motion, he pulls them off and tosses them aside.
I can't help but shiver as the cool air brushes against my exposed skin. Beau stands back up, his hands moving to the button of his Wranglers. He pops it open and slides the zipper down, his eyes never leaving mine.
As he pushes his jeans down, I can't help but notice the impressive bulge straining against his boxer briefs. My breath catches in my throat as he slides those down too, revealing himself fully. I bite my lip, trying to contain my reaction.
"Impressed?" he asks, a playful glint in his eye.
"Maybe a little," I admit, unable to tear my eyes away.
He reaches down, picking up his wallet from the pile of clothes.
"Always prepared, huh?" I tease, trying to keep my voice steady as he pulls out a condom.
"Let's just say after Austen's little paternity scandal, I became the supplier," he replies with a smirk, tearing the foil packet open.
He leans over me again, his body warm against mine. The mattress dips under his weight as he positions himself between my legs.
His hands trail down my body, fingers grazing over my skin and sending sparks of electricity through me. He finds my clit with practiced ease, and I gasp at the sensation.
His touch is gentle but insistent, each movement designed to drive me wild. "Just relax darlin," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing.
"That's easy for you to say," I manage between ragged breaths. "You're not the one being driven crazy."
Beau's laugh is a deep rumble that vibrates through both of us. "Trust me, Quinn. This is just as torturous for me."
I moan softly as he continues to play with me, each stroke of his fingers pushing me closer to the edge. My body responds eagerly to his touch, hips lifting off the bed as I seek more of that delicious friction.
"Beau," I gasp out his name like a plea.
"I've got you," he reassures me, leaning down to capture my lips in a searing kiss. The dual sensation of his mouth on mine and his fingers working their magic is almost too much to bear.
My hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as I lose myself in the pleasure he's giving me. The world outside fades away until there's nothing but Beau and the fire he's igniting inside me.
"Ready?" he whispers against my lips, his breath hot and intoxicating.
"More than ready," I breathe back, eyes locked onto his with fierce intensity.
Beau enters me slowly, and I gasp as he fills me completely. He's bigger than anyone I've ever been with, and there's something incredibly sexy about his size and strength towering over me. His eyes lock onto mine, searching for any sign of discomfort.
"You okay?" His voice is a low rumble, filled with concern.
"Keep going," I manage to whisper, my hands gripping his shoulders. "Don't stop."
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face as he begins to move, each stroke deep and deliberate. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that has me arching into him. He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear.
"You're so talented," he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. "And beautiful."
His words send a thrill through me, adding to the already intense feelings coursing through my body. My fingers dig into his back as he continues to move, each thrust hitting just the right spot.
"Beau," I gasp out, unable to form a coherent sentence.
He picks up the pace slightly, his movements still controlled but more insistent. "You like that?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.
"Yes," I breathe out, my head falling back against the pillow. "God, yes."
He groans in response, his hands gripping my hips as he drives into me with more force. The bed creaks beneath us, the sound mixing with our ragged breaths and soft moans.
"You're incredible," he says between thrusts, his eyes never leaving mine. "Did you know I spotted you that first night in the crowd, when you were supposed to perform."
His confession catches me off guard but only adds to the intensity of the moment. "You did?" I question, my voice trembling with emotion.
"Yeah, you had your eyes closed, absorbed in your own world singing along to our songs. I thought then that you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever laid eyes on."
Beau's eyes soften for a moment before he leans down to kiss me again, his lips demanding and possessive. The kiss is a perfect reflection of our connection—passionate, raw, and real.
His pace quickens as we lose ourselves in each other, our bodies moving in perfect sync. Every stroke brings me closer to the edge until I'm teetering on the brink of ecstasy.
"Beau," I moan out his name again, my nails dragging down his back.
"I'm right here," he reassures me, his voice steady even as his own control starts to slip. "I've got you."
With one final thrust, he pushes me over the edge, and I cry out as waves of pleasure crash over me. Beau follows moments later, a deep groan escaping his lips as he finds his own release.
We collapse together in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets, both of us breathless and spent. Beau's weight is comforting on top of me as we catch our breath.
He brushes a strand of hair away from my face, his expression tender. "You okay?"
I nod, a satisfied smile spreading across my lips. "More than okay."