Chapter 15 – Beau
BEAU
B rinley’s voice isn’t angry or accusing.
Just…tired. Her dark brown eyes plead with mine, asking for answers I don’t have.
All I can think is that today has been too perfect to ruin.
We still have two more days together. If this conversation goes badly—and I don’t see a way where it ends well—then our Italy retreat is over.
I flick off the burners. The sauce might crust into the pan, but I don’t give a fuck. I can make more sauce. I won’t have a second chance to save my relationship.
I don’t know how I’ll keep from crumbling if our one safe place is gone.
“Don’t do this now,” I murmur. “Not here.”
“We have to,” she says. “We both know it. You and I are good together, Beau. That’s not the problem.”
“So let it stay good.” I move around the counter and grab her hands, pulling them to my chest. “Be here with me, Brinley. Don’t worry about what happens when we’re home or what happens months from now.”
“It’s not that easy.” She blinks up at me, her eyes shiny with the ghosts of tears. “We only have a few days. Do we really want to spend them playing pretend?”
Yes. I want us to savor these few days without the specter of ending things, even though I know it’s beyond selfish for me to ask. Brinley deserves a boyfriend who can treat her like she deserves. Who can take her on dates, show her off to the world, prove to her that he’s proud she’s his.
I’m just not ready to lose Luke yet. Once he knows, he won’t just take the betrayal sitting down. Our friendship will be over, and once he’s gone, the other guys will be, too. I don’t get to have both my friends and the woman I love.
She must feel how fast my heart is pounding under her palm. The sound of blood pumping through my ears is deafening, my entire body rejecting the reality that this is how I lose her. Here, in the villa that always reminds me just how much I love her.
Her lips part, and I know she’s about to say something that will devastate me. I can see it in her eyes. The dare she hesitates to make.
I give her one second. One second to decide.
Dare me, Brin.
Dare me to stop pretending the rest of our lives don’t exist. I’d say yes. You know I’d say yes. I can’t refuse you if you say it. You always know exactly which dares I can’t refuse.
But she doesn’t say the words. She doesn’t dare me.
Not this time.
So I do the only thing I can do.
I step forward, crowding her back against the counter.
She has to raise her chin to meet my eyes, and fuck, I love how small she is compared to me.
I take her jaw in one hand and plunge my fingers into the hair on her scalp, barely held back into a loose bun.
I angle her face the way I want it and kiss her smart little mouth.
She doesn’t push me away, but she doesn’t fully open for me, either. She lets me kiss her, dropping her hands to hang down at her sides. Like she’s waiting for me to give up my pathetic attempt at distraction. The second I pull away, she’s going to ask me again.
What are we doing, Beau?
I can’t let that happen. I need her to be distracted. Thank god, I have five years of experience in just how Brinley likes to be touched. I know exactly what drives her crazy, and right now, I need to wield it like a weapon.
I drag my nails lightly down her scalp, tracing the sensitive skin behind her ears.
I move that hand further down, stroking her neck at the same time my other hand grabs her hip and squeezes hard.
Brinley trembles against me, her lips parting further as she welcomes my kiss.
This is what she loves. The combination of hard and soft, brutality and sweetness.
Not knowing how I’ll touch her next makes her breathless.
My hips pull away from hers, allowing space for her to chase me. That’s exactly what she does, arching her back to press her stomach against my hardening cock as I sweep my tongue through her mouth. I kiss away the lingering taste of the wine until Brinley is all I taste.
Please, let me keep kissing you. Don’t take that perfect taste away from me.
Her sundress has a low enough neckline that I only have to tug it a little to bring it down under her breasts, exposing her lace bra.
Her nipples are already poking through the fabric, so I pinch them, drawing them into hard peaks.
She gasps, pressing them even harder into my touch.
Alternating soft circles and hard pinches makes her clutch the fabric of my shirt and hang on for dear life.
Her resistance is almost gone, her common sense almost kissed away. Her question from earlier floats away into oblivion. One good orgasm should distract her from it completely.
I grab her skirt, pulling up the fabric until it’s bunched up around her waist. She shudders as I cup her through her panties, my fingers tracing her seam.
I grin when I find the cotton fabric already damp.
I tease her clit gently while I roll her nipple roughly.
This is where I take my time. Teasing her through her panties for long minutes on end, my mouth moving between her lips and her soft neck.
Brinley’s thighs close tight around my fingers. She wants more pressure, but she’s not going to get it. Not yet.
Not until she’s desperate.
My teeth drag down her neck and over her collarbone. I knead her breast roughly, but I don’t give her pressure where she wants it. Her hips buck and her thighs tremble. Short, rough breaths rack her chest. Her panties aren’t damp anymore—they’re fucking soaked.
“Please,” Brinley whimpers.
“Please what, Brinley baby?” I ask, lips grazing her forehead.
“I need to come. Please, touch me.”
I chuckle, low and cruel. “I am touching you.”
“You know what I mean!” She sounds desperate. She knows I’m holding out, that I know exactly what she wants. She buries her head against my shoulder and tugs at my shirt. I’ve made her wait for long enough.
I press my fingers hard against her clit, and the cries that fall from her lips make me fucking feral with want.
She’s so close, I know it won’t take long.
I only have to stroke her the right way a few more times before her thighs grip my hand like a vice.
Her entire body trembles as the orgasm racks her, her thighs clamping tight around my hand.
Her eyes are glassy with pleasure, her mouth slack.
I drag my fingers out of her, slick to the second knuckle. Her gaze tracks them as I bring them up to her mouth.
“Open.”
She does, no hesitation, no question. I press my fingers past her lips and feel her tongue close around them.
“That's it, Brinley baby. Taste what you do to me. Taste what I do to you.” My thumb drags across her lower lip when she lets me go, glistening.
“Christ. You're going to ruin me.”
She’s not going to argue with me anymore tonight, and I let out a breath that exits like the sigh of a man who already knows he’s condemned.
Maybe she’ll let it go. Maybe I can put off answering what we’re doing for months. Years. Decades.
I look down at Brinley fondly, at the dress pulled down under her breasts and hiked up around her waist. “You wore this dress just for me, didn’t you? Because you knew it would make me crazy?”
“Yes,” she sighs, not even bothering to pretend. She knows me too well, knows exactly how to tempt me.
“You little tease. You knew I’d want to yank up your skirts, turn you around, and take you against my car the second you stepped out of the airport.”
I run my palm flat down her spine and watch her arch into it. Five years of training. Five years of teaching her body exactly what to do when I touch her like this. There's an arrogance to it I won't apologize for.
I flip her around so her stomach presses against the counter and she can feel my hard cock against her back.
“Well, I’m going to make my fantasy come true, Brinley baby,” I whisper against her ear. “I might not have the car or an airport full of tourists to scandalize, but I’m fucking you in this sundress.”
I grab the elastic edge of her panties and yank them down over her hips and thighs. Maybe they get caught around her knees, or maybe they fall to the ground. I don’t bother to check. My fingers dive between her legs to feel her soaking pussy. I moan as I drag my fingertips through her wetness.
“Such a perfect little cunt,” I murmur against her neck. I slide one finger inside her easily, then two. She moans with disappointment when I withdraw them to rub her slickness onto my cock.
“You already miss having me inside you?” I tease.
“Yes.” Her hips thrust back against me. “I want you, Beau. Please, fuck me.”
“Fuck, I want you too. You have no idea how much.” I line my head up with her entrance. Even after her orgasm, it’s a tough fit. I take my time, easing in inch by inch while I kiss the back of her neck and tease her nipples through her bra. Brinley’s whole body is drawn taut in anticipation.
We both groan when I bottom out inside her. For a long moment, I just savor the feel of her, her soft hair under my chin, her tight cunt clutching me, her floral citrus perfume surrounding me. Sometimes, I can’t believe she’s really mine.
My strokes are shallow at first. I rock into her, barely withdrawing. She wanted to be full of me, and I always give her what she wants. After a few long moments, I pull out further, driving the few inches back inside her with slow deliberation.
“Faster,” Brinley pleads, so I give it to her. Faster, deeper, more desperate strokes. My thumb finds her clit, pressing against it just the way she likes. Brinley’s head falls back against my shoulder as she whispers, “Yes, yes, yes, just like that.”
The world around us disappears as our bodies meet, again and again. It doesn’t matter if we’re in Italy or Toronto, a stunning villa or a tiny apartment. It’s just us, moving together as we both chase an overwhelming pleasure that’s just out of reach.
Brinley cries out, and her tight inner walls clench around me. She’s getting close to the edge, her breath coming in short gasps. I nip at her earlobe to urge her on.
“Come on, baby. Come for me.”
“God, yes, come with me, Beau.”
My vision goes hazy as my body follows her orders. She screams out my name and I empty inside her. Our pulses thunder against each other like they’re matching each other’s beats. Once I’m completely wrung out, I slump against Brinley and wrap my arms around her waist.
This woman is home to me, and I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep it that way.
Even if “whatever I need to do” means lying to my best friend's face for another five years. Another ten. Another twenty. I should be a better man. I should sit Luke down and be a better man right this instant.
Instead, I'm going to make Brinley dinner tonight, and I’m going to hate myself for it in the gym tomorrow.
And I can’t fucking stop.
T he warm night air fills with the salty scent of the sea. It’s not close enough for us to hear the waves, but for us to feel its presence.
Empty plates sit on the table next to the outdoor sofa we’re sitting on. Brinley sits curled up against me, my arm around her shoulders, her knees pulled up practically onto my lap. I play with her hair while she sips a glass of wine.
Brinley didn’t say a word after I pulled out of her, other than, “I’m going to take a quick shower.” She emerged ten minutes later with her hair damp, wearing one of my T-shirts and a tiny, lacy pair of shorts. She gulped down the pasta I made, groaning happily with every bite.
Over dinner, we talked about food, about our flights, about what we plan to do tomorrow. That’s as far into the future as we discussed. We’re both quietly relieved, I think, to let it go.
“Do you know any constellations?” she asks, looking up at the sky.
“The only ones I can identify are the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper. Everything else, I’m out of luck.”
“I know Orion. He’s got these three bright stars that make up his belt. I don’t think it’s visible right now, though. We might have to wait until winter.”
“You can show me then,” I suggest.
She only hesitates for a second. “Okay.”
She snuggles back against me and I think, This is what it could be. Every day. If we were brave enough.
I don’t say it out loud. Not yet.