Chapter 1 #2
“One ‘Top of the Class’ for the lovely lady,” the bartender said. He placed Beau’s drink on the bartop. “And an Old Fashioned for Mr. Fontaine.”
I popped my straw into my mouth to stifle a laugh. Beau’s cut crystal glass contained whiskey with a bright, waxy cherry and an orange slice perched on top of a pyramid of cubed ice.
Beau stared at the drink like he had just been served a dead mouse in a cup. He was probably going to throw a fit and have the poor kid tossed out of the reunion.
“Oh, don’t you be mean to him!” I whispered to Beau as soon as the bartender walked off to serve another guest. “He can’t be older than twenty-two. Hell, I think I might have babysat him at some point!”
He cut me a look. “You really do think the worst of me—assuming I would be cruel to the help.”
I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my own drink, a fizzy cocktail that was the same bright coral color that my graduation dress had been. The bubbles tickled my tongue as I drank, but Beau looked at his own drink like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“So, what brings you to my barstool?” I asked. “I would think you would be sitting with Bethany Whitecloud. Didn’t you take her to prom?”
Beau picked up the orange slice and then gave me a half smile. “You mean, didn’t I take him to prom?”
Heat crept across my cheeks as Beau sank his teeth into the orange.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said as my eyes dropped to the mosaic bartop. “I guess I hadn’t kept up with our class as well as I thought.”
Beau pulled the orange from his lips, having stripped all the flesh from the rind in one mouthful. “Well, isn’t that the point of tonight?” He turned his head and met my eyes. “To finally catch up?”
The glow from the fairy lights scattered across his blue eyes like a sunset sparkles across a pool. Damn, I had forgotten how pretty his eyes were.
Warmth bloomed in my lower belly and I pressed my thighs together. Nope! I might have had the worst taste in men, but I wouldn’t consider him—not the shit head who had sneered at my torn jeans and had worn shoes that cost as much as my mom’s rent.
I gulped my drink to cool down as Beau lazily rubbed the orange rind around the rim of his glass.
“So, um,” I said with a cough, “what have you been up to?”
The ice clinked as Beau picked up his glass with his slender fingers. “You know exactly what I’m doing, Adams.”
He took a sip of the caramel-colored whiskey as I bit the inside of my cheek. I could have assumed he was living on his sprawling ranch and working for his family’s oil company—or “working” as much as the only son of the owner would actually do—but he didn’t have to be a dick about it.
“And what about you,” he said, glancing down to my left hand, “Miss Top of the Class?”
I made a fist on the bartop to hide my lack of an engagement ring. “Commercial litigation. I work for Parker & Hill in the city.”
He let out a low laugh that echoed around his glass. “Of course you do. Do you have a list of all the men whose balls you’ve stepped on, or have you lost count at this point?”
“You know me—perpetually organized.” I bit the end of my plastic straw. “And always ready to add more to the list.”
He smirked. “I bet you are.” He caught the stem of the cherry between two fingers and lifted it from his glass. “Do you like cherries?”
I swallowed, but my mouth was suddenly dry. “N-not particularly.”
His eyebrows raised briefly in consideration and he hummed. “Shame.”
The entire cherry disappeared behind his perfect white teeth and I had to quickly find my straw and chug for dear life.
What the hell was wrong with me? I had come to the reunion to look hot, not get hot-and-bothered for Beau Fontaine III, of all people! I needed to pay the bartender and make a quick exit before I left a wet spot on the new barstool.
Beau’s cheeks pitted as he swallowed the cherry.
“You haven’t changed a bit, Adams.” He plucked the cherry stem out of his mouth and held it up in the ambient coppery glow of the room. He smirked. “If only we could all get as lucky as you.”
He placed the cherry stem on the bartop between us—he had tied it into a knot with his tongue.
The warmth in my lower belly ignited again and I sucked on my straw, only to discover with a loud slurp that I had drained the glass.
“Need another drink?” Beau said cooly before taking another sip of whiskey.
The sharp edge of the straw pressed into my lower lip as the air around us thickened.
My eyes fell to his big hand wrapped around that glass, his fingertips pressing into the rigid facets of the crystal.
I was approaching that all-too-familiar point of no return where I was just seconds away from crawling out of a bar and into a bed.
I shouldn’t—I really shouldn’t—but it wasn’t like I lived in Elren anymore. I would never have to speak to him again. It could be a one-and-done. Yeah, just to see what that snarky little mouth of his could really do.
What a fine distraction Beau Fontaine could be.
I pushed my empty cup away and leaned on the bartop. “Did you know this place has an attic?”
He sipped his whiskey. “A three-story building has an attic? Color me surprised.”
I pursed my lips. God, he was such a fucking dick. “Did you know the attic is haunted?”
His lips hovered over the rim of his glass as he gave me a half smile. “Are you saying you want to ditch the reunion to go on a little adventure?”
I leaned forward, letting the neckline of my dress slip down just enough. “Up for a challenge, Mr. Fontaine?”
Those pretty blue eyes dropped to my cleavage. The tip of his tongue pressed against his canine tooth as he smiled.
“You’re on, Adams.” He drained the last of his whiskey and pulled out a money clip from his jacket pocket.
I hopped down from my stool as he carelessly set a stack of bills on the bartop. I headed for the stairs in the back, giving him enough space to discreetly follow me out.
The din of the party and the thumping of the bass from the speakers faded as I crept up the creaking staircase.
Four inch stilettos and steep rickety stairs didn’t mix, so I clung to the worn handrail that was bolted to the wall.
My ankle wobbled and I gasped, but then large hands gripped my waist from behind and held me steady.
I held my breath as heat rushed to my core. My legs trembled, but I carefully climbed the rest of the two flights of stairs as Beau silently rested his hands on the curves of my hips.
When we reached the top landing, I turned the porcelain knob and pushed open the creaking attic door.
The scent of antique lace filled my nose and I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the low light.
The amber glow from the street lights outside barely illuminated the dark room.
Old mannequins and stacked cardboard boxes lined the brick walls.
The heat of my arousal ignited into the harsh the burn of embarrassment—had I really just taken the wealthiest man in town to a dusty attic for a hookup?
Beau closed the door behind him and I turned around.
“Look,” I said, “I really should have just booked a hotel—”
With a single step forward, Beau backed me into the wall and I lost my breath. He rested his forearm above my head and my cheeks flared—how had I forgotten how tall he was?
I took in a shallow breath and suddenly all I could smell was the cologne on his neck.
The light, yet masculine scent hooked me in and made me want to move closer, but my knees went weak.
I pressed my palms into the rough brick wall to brace myself while he leaned down until I could feel his soft breath against my skin.
“Birth control?” he asked.
“IUD,” I answered in a whisper.
“Perfect.”
He grabbed my jaw and his lips crashed into mine.
My eyes widened with a gasp that softened into a moan as he kissed me.
The sweetness of the cherry flavor on his tongue mixed with the naughty burn of whiskey on his breath.
My hands reached up to grip the lapel of his jacket as his hands slid beneath my skirt.
He broke the kiss and smiled against my swollen lips.
“Never imagined you would wear these.” He slipped two fingers beneath the thin band of my thong and popped the elastic against my hip. “Not so angelic anymore, are you?”
Just before I made good on my earlier threat to drive my stiletto into his balls, his hand disappeared into my panties.
“And you shaved,” he said with an amused lilt into my open mouth. “Almost like you were expecting me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I huffed as I melted into his touch. “You egotistical—oh.”
He slipped a finger inside me and the lower half of my body went slack.
He let out a low laugh. “That shut you up.” He wrapped his arm around my waist, bracing me against him. “How about another one?”
A second finger joined the first and he curled them as he stroked me in a delicious rhythm.
“Fuck,” I whimpered against his mouth as he brought me closer and closer to an orgasm.
“I don’t remember you ever using that word,” he said. “I must be really getting to you.”
Just as I was at the edge of my climax, Beau stopped. I opened my eyes to find him staring across the attic.
“The hell are you doing?” I asked as I pushed through the needy ache between my legs. “I was close to—”
He quickly took his hand out of me and wrapped both his arms around my thighs. I gasped as he picked me up and carried me across the room. I locked my legs around his waist and gripped his jacket to stay upright, but he plopped me ass-first onto a cushion. A cloud of dust floated up around me.
“The–fuck, Beau—” I coughed.
He dropped to his knees in front of me. “I got you a couch and you still complain? I like you better when you’re moaning.”