Chapter 37 – Beau #2
“Nosy?” Cole shoots back with a grin. “You’re basically writing us an open letter right now.”
Their cheers follow me, but it doesn’t slow me down.
The chatter from the yard dulls as I step inside.
The cool air wraps around me, carrying the sweet scent of pie.
Alise is at the counter, fussing with a dessert she doesn’t actually care about, shoulders tense like she’s aware I’m here but pretending otherwise.
She moves toward the doorway, and I don’t step out of her way. She brushes past me, her curls catching along my jaw—soft, deliberate—and my pulse spikes. Her hip grazes mine, just enough to leave me wondering if she’s trying to kill me or just testing how close I am to breaking.
The answer’s close. So fucking close.
She slips through the back door, and I catch her hand, steering her away from the others in the yard.
We move around the side of the house, where the shadows stretch long and the voices fade to a low hum.
We’re close enough that if anyone rounded the corner, they’d see us, but hidden enough to feel alone.
Cedar smoke drifts through the air from the grill, mixing with the earthy scent of the maple trees and the damp bite of freshly watered grass.
“Not in the mood for an audience,” I say, my voice low, still thrumming with that post-game edge.
“Funny. I thought you just wanted to check on the pies.”
“Try again.”
She shrugs, all fake innocence. “Then maybe you wanted me to see the siding. It’s still very… beige, but it has excellent craftsmanship.”
I take a step closer, closing the distance until I can feel her warmth. “You’re really gonna make me say it?”
“Yes. I enjoy hearing you admit it.” Her smile tilts, slow and dangerous.
That’s it. The last thread of restraint snaps. My hand slides into her curls, cupping the back of her head while my other hand finds her waist, and I kiss her like I wanted to last night.
The leftover adrenaline from the game surges through me, every nerve on fire.
She makes a low, breathy sound and fists my shirt, dragging me closer until I’ve got her pinned between me and the siding.
My thumb strokes her jaw as I deepen the kiss, swallowing her gasp when I angle my mouth over hers.
It’s messy. Teeth catching, breaths tangling, and every inch of her pressed against me until my muscles are loose and tight all at once.
My grip on her waist tightens like I’m holding something I’ll never let go of.
When I finally break away, it’s because I have to breathe. My forehead rests against hers, her fingers still knotted in my shirt. Her lips are kiss swollen, eyes a little dazed, and I know I look the same.
“Better?” she murmurs.
“Better, but I’m not done.” I huff a rough laugh, brushing my thumb over her cheekbone.
“Good,” she mumbles, her smile curving slowly. “Because you owe me.”
The words pull the tunnel kiss into the space between us. The heat I left unfinished, the restraint I swore I’d never use with her again. Last night, I pulled back. But today, in my mom’s backyard, I’m not planning on stopping.
Her gaze flicks toward the corner of the house, toward the voices faintly carrying from the yard.
“Beau…” she says, a warning threaded through my name. “We’re right here. Anyone could—”
“I don’t care.” My voice is rough, low, and steady. I skim my mouth over hers, not quite kissing, letting the promise sink in. “Let them see how much I want you. Let them know you’re mine.”
Her breath stutters, chest rising faster under my hands.
“You think I’m gonna stop because we’re ten steps from my momma’s kitchen?” I murmur against her ear. “Not a chance, baby. You’ve been driving me crazy all day. Now you’re gonna stand here and take what I’ve been holding back.”
She swallows hard but doesn’t move away.
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper, “and I will, but if you don’t…” My fingers tighten on her hips, pulling her flush against me so she can feel exactly what she’s doing to me. “If you don’t, I’m gonna kiss you again until you can’t remember why you were worried in the first place.”
Her answer is a shaky exhale, and I’m on her before the sound even fades, pressing her back into the siding. The clink of cutlery from the yard drift around the corner, but it’s muffled now, like the world’s gone underwater and the only thing sharp and clear is her.
My hands slide down her sides, slow at first, memorizing the curve of her waist and the flare of her hips. She arches into me just a little, and it’s enough to make my restraint fray.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” I breathe against her mouth.
My lips trail to her jaw, her pulse thrumming against my tongue when I nip at the delicate skin there.
“Standing there last night in his jersey, looking at me like that…” I shake my head, my laugh low and dark.
“You’re lucky I didn’t take you right there in the tunnel. I was thirty seconds from losing it.”
“Beau—” Her fingers curl into the front of my shirt, like she’s torn between holding me close and pushing me back.
“Say my name like that again, and I swear”—I catch her chin, tilting her face toward mine, my eyes locked on hers as my voice dips with need—“I’ll lay you out right here where everyone can see.”
“I’m serious,” she whispers, but it’s weak, and we both know it. “Your family—”
“Are not here. They’re eating. Not one of them is thinking about us.” My thumb sweeps over her lower lip, feeling the way it trembles under the touch. “But I can’t think about anything else.”
Her breath hitches when my other hand fists in the hem of her shirt, not quite lifting, but close enough for my knuckles to skim the soft skin above her waistband.
“All day, Alise. Every time you smiled at someone else. Every time you brushed past me.” I lean in until my mouth is a whisper from hers.
“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been not to drag you somewhere and make you mine all over again? ”
Her answer is a quiet, involuntary sound—half gasp, half whimper—and it undoes me.
My mouth claims hers again, harder this time.
The kiss quickly turns hot, with a messy need you can’t pretend is just a kiss.
My hands move without thought: one sliding into her hair, tugging just enough to tilt her head back, the other gripping her hip to pull her flush against me.
Alise presses into me like she’s trying to erase the space between us entirely.
The distant hum of voices from the yard might as well be miles away now.
“You’re mine,” I growl against her mouth, each word punctuated by the slow drag of my hand up her side. “You’ve always been mine. And the second we’re alone, I’m going to remind you exactly how much.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders, a sharp little sting that sends a low groan rumbling out of me. My thumb sweeps under the edge of her shirt again, higher this time, my skin meeting hers in a rush of heat.
“Beau—” Her voice is breathless now, the sound of someone who’s already halfway gone.
“Tell me to stop,” I murmur, my lips grazing the shell of her ear. “I dare you.”
But she doesn’t, and that’s all the permission I need.
I press her harder into the siding, the faint texture biting into my palms where they bracket her hips.
The wood is warm from the sun, but her body is warmer, heat seeping through the thin barrier of her clothes until I can’t tell where I end and she begins.
The murmur of conversation from the yard is faint but present.
I can hear the clink of silverware and the occasional burst of laughter, a reminder that we are very much not alone.
And maybe that’s what makes my pulse pound harder and my hands greedy.
Her scent hits me first, that faint sweetness of whatever lotion she uses, tangled up with the clean bite of her shampoo, layered now with the citrus-sugar of lemonade still on her tongue.
I kiss her again, deep and slow this time, letting it build. Her lips part under mine, and I slide my tongue against hers, savoring the way she tastes, sweet and something that’s only hers. She makes a sound in my mouth, and it lands in my chest like a lit match.
My hand skims under her shirt, fingertips tracing the dip of her waist, then higher over the warm plane of her stomach. Her skin is soft, impossibly smooth, and my touch leaves a trail of goose bumps in its wake. She inhales sharply, the sound threading straight into my spine.
“Beau…” Her voice is a warning, but her body presses closer.
“Shhh,” I murmur against her neck, my lips finding the spot just under her jaw that makes her shiver. “They can’t see us here, and even if they could…” My teeth scrape lightly over her pulse, my voice dropping to a growl. “I still wouldn’t stop.”
Her fingers clutch at the back of my neck, nails grazing my skin. My other hand moves up, cupping her breast through the thin fabric of her bra. She arches into my palm like it’s the only thing keeping her upright, a soft gasp slipping out before she can bite it back.
“That’s it,” I breathe, my thumb stroking over the swell, teasing until I feel the faintest shift of her weight toward me, seeking more.
I break from her mouth just long enough to look at her flushed cheeks, heavy-lidded eyes, and kiss-bruised lips. The sight hits me harder than the adrenaline from last night’s game.
“Do you know what you look like right now?” I whisper, my thumb still brushing over her skin in slow, maddening passes. “Like mine. Completely mine.”
She swallows but doesn’t answer, her breath coming faster. The sound, quick and shallow, tangles with the faint hum of voices drifting from the yard. We shouldn’t be doing this here. That knowledge pulses at the edge of my mind and makes it that much hotter.