Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BEAU
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sierra eyes me skeptically as we walk down the hall, following Winston’s lead. His tail waves back and forth enthusiastically, like he’s excited to get home after his big weekend away.
“I’m positive,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and kissing the top of her head as I roll our suitcases along beside me. “I just didn’t sleep well last night.” Or at all, actually.
“I slept like the dead.” She sighs against my shoulder.
“I know.” I watched her all night. But how do you tell someone you couldn’t sleep because you couldn’t stop gazing at them, afraid that if you closed your eyes, the entire mirage would disappear?
That’s how this whole thing with Sierra feels—like our future is a hopeful vision flickering in the distance, but ultimately too good to be true.
Because there is no future. Even the voice inside my head is dark and bitter.
She told me this could only last until I leave, with no hesitation or remorse that it couldn’t be longer.
The first time I came inside her, something shifted in me.
And last night, in front of that whole wall of windows, that wasn’t just the sexiest fucking thing that’s ever happened, it was life altering.
But not for her.
She pulls away from me to put the code in the keypad and push our front door open, then turns in the doorway attempting not to get caught up in Winston’s leash. She says “I promise not to keep you up too late tonight” and gives me a sexy little wink.
I smile because I know that’s the appropriate response, but inside, all I can think about is how I want her to keep me up too late every night.
The thought of walking away from her at the end of this week is .
. . I don’t know, too painful to think about, I guess.
So I don’t. Instead, I wheel our suitcases into the entryway and consider how to make the most of the next few days.
“Did you hear Heather when she said maybe she’d adopt Winston?” Sierra asks, a dreamy smile on her face as she takes off her coat. “Wouldn’t that be amazing? She adores him, and then I could see him whenever I wanted.”
“That would be incredible. She really does seem to love him.”
“And it sounds like he wasn’t that crazy with her. He only ate a pair of her socks, no other mischief.”
“He’s already calmed down a lot over the last two weeks,” I remind her. “I think he just needs consistency, and lots of exercise and attention.”
“Yeah, and Heather and her husband don’t have kids, so they can give him that.
I do think having a couple adopt him is ideal.
I couldn’t have done this without you.” She leans up and brushes her lips against mine, and I consider the implication that we’re a couple.
I don’t think it’s what she meant, but it’d be easy to interpret that way. I want to interpret it that way.
We go through the motions that have become second nature for us. I make us dinner while Sierra takes Winston for a walk, I play with him to get some of his energy out while she unpacks her suitcase, she takes him out to pee and plays with him while I edit the photos I took at Sydney’s wedding.
It’s familiar, but new at the same time because there’s a level of intimacy that didn’t exist before we left.
The way she dangles the bra and underwear she wore last night from her finger as she unpacks it, saying “I should probably wash this.” The way she wraps her arms around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head as she stands behind my chair looking at Sydney’s wedding photos on my laptop.
The way she takes my hand after we crate Winston before bed, and leads me to her room.
“You don’t actually think you’re going to put those on, do you?” I ask when she pulls her pajamas out of the drawer.
“I don’t know,” she says, and her lip curls up into a smile on one side. That’s quickly becoming my favorite look because I know it means she’s thinking about us together. “You tell me.”
I take them from her hand and set them on top of the dresser, then pull her to me.
“Those won’t be necessary.” I dip my head and part her lips with mine, kissing her deeply as I slide her long dusty pink cardigan from her shoulders.
She loops her arms around my neck and I take the hem of the tight sexy white T-shirt she’s wearing and pull it up, trailing my fingers along her abdomen and brushing them along the sides of her breasts before pulling it over her head.
My fingers unclasp her bra and as I gently pull it off, I take in the sight of a topless Sierra.
I could never get tired of this view. I swallow those words down, and instead I say, “You’re gorgeous. ”
“You make me feel gorgeous,” she says. I hear the implication that others have not made her feel this way and there are so many questions on the tip of my tongue, but I hold them in because I know how much she doesn’t like talking about past partners while we’re intimate. I’ll have to ask her later.
“Because you deserve to know how amazing you are,” I tell her as she takes my shirt and pulls it over my head.
We make quick work of undressing each other, and once I’m down to my boxer briefs, I tell her I’ll be right back. I slip into my bedroom and grab a stash of condoms before returning to her room and dropping them onto her nightstand.
She’s waiting for me on the bed, kneeling right at the edge so that when I step up to the side of the bed, her nipples drag along my chest. My hands instinctively go to her hips, which seems to be their natural position of late—always pulling her closer, even though I never feel like she’s quite close enough.
I dip my head, burying my nose in her hair and inhaling the strawberry scent that will forever remind me of being naked with her.
I hate that I’m cataloging away these details, knowing that I’ll think about them in the future when I remember a moment in time that couldn’t last.
“Did you just sniff me?” She laughs.
“Sure did,” I say, my lips already at her ear as I pull her earlobe into my mouth. Her entire body convulses like an electrical current just ran through it.
She dips her chin and sinks her teeth into my neck.
The bite is light, but it has me hard for her instantly.
I push my hips forward, rubbing myself along her.
She sighs and reaches down to push my underwear past my hips, then takes me in her hand, dips her head down, and swirls her tongue around the head of my cock.
I push forward into her mouth without even meaning to, and she takes me willingly.
The bed is too high for the angle to be ideal, so she moves from her hands and knees to laying on her stomach, propped up on one elbow as she works me in and out of her mouth.
She bends her knees, her feet crossed in the air like she’s casually reading a magazine, but the soft moans that are reverberating against my sensitive skin let me know that she’s invested.
I thought seeing her on her knees in the shower taking me in her mouth was sexy, but this—her ass moving as she subtly tilts her hips into the bed—this is next-level.
She lets me slip out of her mouth, but keeps a firm grip on me with her hand as she looks up. “You like this?”
“I love this.” Do I mean the blow job she’s giving me, or just being with her? I’m not even sure.
She dips her head again, but it’s too good and I’m too close, and I want to be inside her.
I tell her as much, and as I grab a condom, she repositions herself so she’s on her back, with her feet at the edge of the bed and her legs bent up so she’s spread wide open for me and I can see how wet and ready she is.
I circle her clit with my thumb a few times until she’s begging me, and when I push inside her, it feels like coming home.
She reaches her hands up to her knees and I lace my fingers with hers.
I don’t think I’ve ever held hands with someone while fucking them, and it’s strangely intimate, even with the rest of our bodies only connected at the hips.
I glance down, watching myself slide in and out of her. “You like what you see?” she asks. Her voice is rough, raw even, and it’s all the more sexy just when I thought she couldn’t possibly get any sexier.
“This is amazing,” I tell her.
She brings our hands back above her head, pulling me down so our upper bodies are flush. “I want you down here with me,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Our lips meet, and our tongues slide along each other’s as I kiss her with the same tempo as our bodies meeting each other.
It feels like only another minute before she’s writhing beneath me, her hips meeting mine as she urges me to increase the pace.
I absorb the rhythm of our hips beating against each other, the way our slick bodies glide along each other, the sound of the soft moans that escape her lips as she pants.
She puts her feet on my lower back, saying “Yes, Beau” as she tries to push me even deeper inside her.
Not that there’s any room for me to go deeper, I’m already bottoming out, but she seems to love the pressure that puts on her.
“Oh yes,” she pants, her lips centimeters from mine.
“Yes!” The word is practically a shout as I feel her muscles clench around me over and over, and even though I try to hold on, I can’t.
The tingling at the base of my spine is spreading and I feel my balls seize up as I pound into her, chasing my own release.
“Holy crap,” she says once our bodies have relaxed, with me still inside her. “How is sex with you always so amazing?”
“It’s an us thing,” I assure her. “It isn’t always like this. For me, anyway.”