21. Tessa
21
Tessa
“ H ow do you feel about going on a trip?” Beau asks one morning as we’re lying in his bed. He strokes my bare back lazily. “I want to go to one of Shep’s games. Would you come with me?”
We’ve spent pretty much all of the past few weeks holed up in his little house. After my first time, we’ve hardly spent any time apart. I’ve gotten more comfortable being here than at home, but I’ve got to find a way to tell him this isn’t a dream we share. Just add that to the list of things I’m hiding. It seems to grow every day.
Playing house with him in this happy, contented bubble has been a dream and it helps me shrug off all the things I can’t tell him yet. Every morning I’ve woken up beside him has been the best morning of my life until I get to do it again the next day. We stay up half the night lounging on the couch in the living room or in his bed talking about nothing. Beau shares everything with me, even the most random thoughts that pop into his head and I’ve learned so much about him.
To my shame, I hang on his every word. Starving for each and every detail he shares. What his favorite food is. Apple pie. Why he wears that gold chain around his neck. Because it was his grandpa’s. How many kids he wants. Three. How he takes his coffee. With enough sugar to give a dentist cavities.
This is still new to me, but surprisingly, I’ve shared just as much. He drags information out of me with ease. Just when I’m about to drift off to sleep, he’ll ask me some aimless question and we’ll lay there talking while he’s got me wrapped in his arms. It’s become my favorite part of the day.
Though I’m still constantly checking my email for a job offer, his house offers a sanctuary to read or grow my social media accounts and I’ve gotten comfortable enough to do it around him. I’ve gotten halfway through the latest thriller I’m reviewing here because I never have time to read at the store. He doesn’t pry while I take pictures of books or write a review post, but I’m learning now that I don’t have to hide these pieces of myself. He picks up dinner while I sit at the oak kitchen table in the breakfast nook and work on making posts and reels. My laptop is usually sitting on his coffee table and my books are strewn throughout his house.
I never thought I’d say this, but it feels good to let go. To let him in.
This type of intimacy with another person is unfamiliar. I’ve never fallen this hard for a boyfriend before and I didn’t notice how much I hold back until I stopped holding back with him. He gives so much of himself to everyone. He works so hard with his dad and he’s such a family guy. He’s constantly checking in with his mom, Peyton and Shep. He cares about everyone in town and would literally give a stranger the shirt off his back. How he still finds time to talk my ear off and take care of me, I don’t know. I don’t know where he finds the time or the energy. But I find myself emulating him in little ways, trying to be a better person and not be so closed-off all the time.
“Yeah, that would be fun! I’m sure I can take a few days off from the store.”
“Yeah?” He asks, looking down at me incredulously.
“Yeah. Did you think I’d say no?”
“I’m never sure what you’re going to say.” He rolls me on top of him and peppers my face with sloppy kisses before he pulls back abruptly. “This is our first trip.” His eyebrows raise. “This is big. Almost like you’re my girlfriend.”
“Ugh, you’re such a girl sometimes.” I move to roll off him, taking the sheet with me.
“Oh no you don’t!” He spins until he’s the one on top, pressing me down into the mattress. He knows how much I love it. “I’m not letting you out of this bed until you say you’re my girlfriend.”
“Beau, I’m at your house almost every night.”
“So?”
“We do everything together.”
“So?” He says louder.
“We’ve said I love you. Everyone knows we’re together by now.”
“Say it, Tess.” He’s suddenly serious. “Please. Say it for me.”
There he goes again. Begging Beau may be my favorite because it turns my insides to jelly. I haven’t told him what his pleading does to me, though. I can’t give him that weapon or he’ll hold it over my head forever.
“What if I don’t want to get out of this bed?” I ask suggestively, wiggling my hips under him. He shoots me an annoyed look, letting me know he’s over it. I take his face in my hands.
“I’m your girlfriend, Beau. I’m yours just like you’re mine. If you need me to label it, fine. I’m done pushing you away. Ok? I’d love to go on a trip with you.”
The look he gives me is full of so much emotion that I don’t know how it’s not bursting through his skin like rays of light. When I kiss him, we get carried away and I can already tell we’re both going to be late to work…again.
One thing I may have conveniently forgotten to mention in all those late-night talks with Beau was how much I hate flying. I would almost prefer the twelve-hour drive from Pelahatchie to Houston to avoid getting on an airplane. When he showed me the tickets, he was so excited. I’m tired of always letting him down so I kept my mouth shut and tucked my fear away in a tiny, little box in my chest.
The drive to the airport was quiet. At least on my part because Beau is never quiet. His constant stream of chatter has helped to keep the spotlight off my anxiety. He’s so at ease. He’s carted our bags, gotten us breakfast and settled us both on the plane with a huge smile on his face. And here I am feeling like I’m going to throw up every time the plane moves.
At takeoff, my eyes squeeze shut as we’re hurtling down the runway. The noise has always been the worst part and I can’t focus on anything other than the horrible whooshing sound outside the plane and inside my head.
“Firecracker, everything okay?” Beau’s hand comes to rest on my thigh.
“Fine,” I grit out shortly.
“You don’t look fine.”
“Breathing through your nose is supposed to help, right?”
“Help what?”
“Anxiety,” I say in a small voice.
“Right.”
“Then why isn’t it helping?” I snap, eyes still glued shut.
He pauses. “Tess, are you scared of flying?”
“No,” I fib.
“Well, let's try easing up on the death grip you have on the armrest there and look at me.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“I can’t open my eyes until we’re in the air.”
“Then open your eyes, baby.” I peek one eye open. “Good job,” he teases. “Now the other one.” When I obey, he takes my hand and kisses the back of it. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re scared of flying?”
It’s difficult to talk when I continue breathing deeply through my nose. “I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think I was being difficult.”
“You’re always difficult. I’m used to it,” he jokes with a smug grin. “Seriously though, we could have driven if you’d said something.”
The plane dips slightly with turbulence and I immediately tuck my head in my lap. “It was twelve hours,” I squeak.
“Tess, if you don’t know by now that I would do anything to make you comfortable, I’m not doing a very good job.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could be cool about this. I am excited about the trip, but I hate planes. I don’t know anything worse than being stuck in a giant, tin can thousands of feet in the air.” The words are muffled by my position and Beau puts a large hand on my shoulder to bring me upright.
“How about I try and take your mind off it?”
“There’s no possible way I could stop thinking about plunging to my death right now.”
“I have a few ideas. Come here.” He lifts the armrest I was clutching so our two small seats become a slightly larger bench.
“What are you doing?”
“Come here and I’ll show you.” I know that voice. I don’t move immediately and instead, eye him skeptically. “Fine. If you really want to know, I’ll just announce to the whole cabin,” his voice gets a little louder, “that I’d like to play with my girl’s–”
“Shut up,” I hiss and quickly scoot over until our shoulders are touching.
I sense where that conversation was headed and now that I’ve caught on, I’m a little curious. Ok, more than a little curious about what he’d like to play with.
Beau pulls a small blanket from the backpack at his feet and tells me to cover up with it. He shuts the window and angles my body toward it. Now, I’m facing away from the aisle and he snakes one arm around me, between my body and the seat back. He fumbles for a second, getting his hand under the blanket and then I feel it grip my inner thigh. My heart rate starts speeding up.
“What are you doing?” I whisper. He doesn’t answer, but there’s a gravelly laugh in my ear that sets my skin to tingling. “We can’t do this here! Anyone could see.”
We’re sitting in the two seats closest to the window, with the aisle seat empty. I look around at all the unsuspecting people who have no idea Beau’s hand is inching towards the crotch of my leggings.
“Spread your legs.”
“Beau,” I whine nervously.
“Spread your legs or so help me God, I’ll rip this blanket off and everyone will see exactly what I’m doing.”
The authority in his voice snaps my attention to his eyes and they look positively lethal. Not the time to argue . Sighing, I prop my knee against the window and snuggle into the crook of his arm.
“Happy now?”
“I won’t be happy until I get my hands on your pussy and you’re coming on my fingers.”
It still surprises me when Beau talks like this. He looks too wholesome to even know such filthy words, but I love the contradiction. My breathing speeds up before he’s even touched me.
“Slide your leggings down,” he commands. “Make it easier for me to get at what’s mine.” I do as I’m told while he picks up his phone with his other hand, looking just like every other passenger on their phone. “That’s better. I’ve been waiting all day to get my hands on you.”
“You have?”
“Why do you think I brought a blanket?” He whispers into my hair. His fingers slide over the crease of my thigh and his large, warm hand palms my center, reaching all the way from the top to the bottom of me. “God, I love this. You fit around me so perfectly. Everything I need right here.” He taps lightly against my entrance and my back arches. “I love how tight you are. How this sweet, little pussy grips my fingers.”
He’s got one finger trailing softly over my lips, building an ache everywhere he touches. I can feel my body glide against his hand with the wetness building there.
“Beau,” I pant, losing control of my breathing.
“What is it, baby? You want more?” That one fucking finger dives deep until his entire digit in buried inside me. “You better not be telling me to stop,” he rasps against my ear. I fight a shiver.
“No, no, don’t stop.”
“Fuck, I wish you could feel how hard my cock is.”
He looks back at his phone, the picture of nonchalance, while his hand pumps back and forth under the blanket. He adjusts in his seat like he’s settling in for the flight. Something about the unconcerned way he’s scrolling Instagram while expertly finger-fucking me is obscene and so, so hot. I can feel myself grow wetter as I bite my lip to keep from moaning.
“You’re awfully quiet. I must not be trying hard enough.” At that moment, his thumb brushes my clit and I stiffen.
“You wouldn’t dare.” My eyes flick over to his face and he smirks without looking at me.
“Oh, I absolutely would.”
His fingers glide out of me and he rubs the wetness between my legs into my clit like the best kind of massage. My body melts into his side and the breathy noises I’m making are getting harder and harder to hide.
A pretty, blonde flight attendant pops up over Beau’s right shoulder and I shift unconsciously to close my legs. Could she hear us? The movement is stopped by Beau’s iron grip, holding my thighs open.
“Can I get either of you anything?” she asks cheerily.
“Thank goodness,” he says with sugary sweetness. “I was just getting ready to hit the call button. What are the options?”
His fingers continue their sweet assault while she lists out all the drinks offered on the plane. In, out, up to circle my clit. In, out, up, circle. The consistent rhythm has my orgasm drawing closer, the pressure tightening in my core.
Beau says something to the woman and she leans further into our space to look at me. “And something for you, miss?”
Before I can answer, a second finger is shoved inside me and I struggle to stifle a gasp.
“No, thank you,” I bite out. She knows. She has to know what’s going on under the blanket.
Beau, trouble maker that he is, smiles up at her again and says, “She must be hungry. Do you have any snacks available?”
I interrupt them wildly. “We’re good! We’re fine! Thanks!”
“I’ll be right back with your Coke then, sir.”
As she walks away, I widen my eyes comically at Beau. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Distracting you.”
“We’re gonna get kicked off this plane!”
“Then shut up and come before she gets back.” He hits a particularly good rhythm and I swear my eyes almost roll back in my head. “That’s it, baby. Come for me. But just know that the next time we fly, I’m going to take you in that bathroom and stuff this pretty little pussy so full…”
His dirty words do the trick and I’m coming on his fingers before he can even finish the speech. I turn my face to the window and squeeze my eyes shut as my body spasms around his hand. The flight attendant chooses this moment to return and I barely register the brief words they speak to each other.
When I’m able to form words again, I breathe, “That was a terrible idea.”
“That’s funny, I think you meant to say, ‘Thank you, sir. May I have another?’”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“But it took your mind off it, didn’t it?” The look he gives me is tender. Beau may be a jokester, a dirty talker when the time is right, but deep down, he’s just a golden retriever looking for a little praise.
I opt for a little tenderness too. “You’re the best.” I quirk an eyebrow. “Thank you, sir.”
His eyes darken to a deeper shade of blue. “Say that again.”
“Say what again, sir?” I feign ignorance and he tickles my still-spread legs.
“Quit playing. I bet I can make you come at least twice more before we land.”
“Let’s try to be a little more inconspicuous this time, okay?”
“Whatever you say, Firecracker.”