Chapter 22 Beau #2
She hums thoughtfully. “I guess that makes this even more special, then.”
“Exactly.”
The sun shifts higher, light sparkling over the surface of the pool. The air is warm, the kind that clings to skin and begs for relief. I glance at her, then at the water, and an idea sparks.
“You know,” I say slowly, “the weather’s nice enough that if you wanted to go for a dip, you could. Water’s safe.”
Her eyes widen. “You’re serious?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise.”
She studies the pool for a long moment, then nods. “Alright. Why not?”
“Atta girl.” I push to my feet, tugging off my boots and stripping out of my shirt. She pretends not to watch, but I catch the flick of her gaze as I shove my jeans down, leaving me in nothing but boxers.
When she stands, she tugs her pink top over her head, and I nearly forget how to breathe. Her bra is hot pink, hugging her curves perfectly, the bottoms tied at her hips with little bows that make my mouth dry.
“Jesus,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.
Her smile is shy but wicked at the same time. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly, even though the truth is written all over me. “Just… you’re gonna kill me, Wren.”
She laughs, shaking her head, and steps toward the edge. I join her, our shoulders brushing again as we stand side by side. She slips her hand into mine, her grip small but sure.
“On three?” I ask.
“On three.”
“One… two… three.”
We leap together, the world tilting as we plunge into the icy water. It swallows us whole, shocking and clean, washing every thought from my head except her hand still locked tight in mine.
The water is colder than I expected. It slaps against my skin, stealing my breath for a second, and then I’m laughing because she’s laughing—bright, unrestrained, her hair slicked back as she surfaces.
She wipes water from her eyes and kicks at me, sending a spray into my face. I retaliate, cupping a handful and tossing it right back at her.
“Childish,” she gasps between laughs, but the way her shoulders shake says she’s enjoying every second.
We splash back and forth until our arms ache, then we float, letting the current pull us in lazy circles. The waterfall thunders behind us, a steady rhythm, almost like it’s keeping time with my pulse.
She tilts her head toward me, still grinning. “You’re kind of romantic, you know that?”
I raise an eyebrow, treading water easily. “This? You think this is romantic?”
“You brought me to your private waterfall. You packed a picnic. You asked me to jump into a freezing pool with you. It’s basically a date.” Her smile softens. “It’s… sweet.”
Sweet. Not usually the word people stick to me. I’ve been called solid, reliable, occasionally stubborn as a mule—but sweet? Not since I was a kid.
“Guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say, even as my chest tightens.
She looks up at the sky, squinting against the sun. “My ex would’ve never done something like this.”
I don’t mean to ask, but the words tumble out. “He was a Beta?”
She nods, her expression tightening just slightly. “Yeah. Rob. We dated for a while. He didn’t… I don’t know. He wasn’t bad, he just wasn’t—” She shakes her head. “Never mind.”
I smirk, pushing a little closer. “Let me guess. He fumbled.”
She laughs at that, but there’s a hollow note under it. “Maybe.”
“Wren,” I say, serious now, “if I ever got a chance with you, I’d never fumble. Not once. Not for a second.”
Her eyes snap to mine, green and wide, shining even brighter against the sunlight bouncing off the water. “You… like me?”
The surprise in her voice knocks the wind out of me. “Of course I do. How could I not? You’re—you. You think I’d spend all this time worried about whether you’re eating, whether the café’s holding together, whether you’re safe, if I didn’t?”
Her lips part slightly, but no words come out. I shake my head, pressing on. “But listen, I know you’re not ready to date again. I get that. So, if me saying this makes things awkward—”
“Awkward?” She lets out a laugh, floating back on her spine, arms spread, hair fanning out around her. “Beau, are you kidding me? After how busy yesterday was? After the pop-up and everything else? This right here—this is perfect.”
Yeah. Yeah, it is.
I swim next to her, lazy strokes, letting the water carry me closer until I can hook an arm gently around her waist. She turns her head toward me, and I can’t stop myself from saying it.
“You know something about those green eyes of yours? They’re brighter than this whole damn waterfall.”
She flushes, actually flushes, and ducks her chin, biting her lip. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”
“Well, now they have.”
She studies me, thoughtful, then smiles like she’s deciding something. “You want to hear something funny?”
“Always.”
“I never thought I’d be attracted to Alphas. I grew up thinking they were all bossy, overbearing jerks. And now…” She trails off, her cheeks pink above the water line.
“So, you’re attracted to me?” I push gently, even though my heart’s already hammering.
She lifts a brow. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“No,” I admit, shaking my head. “Not to me.”
Something shifts in her gaze then. Something softer, more profound. She must see my sincerity, because she swims straight into my arms.
The world shrinks to her—the cool water lapping against us, her skin slick beneath my hands, her mouth so close I can taste her breath. I lower my head, and she rises to meet me.
The kiss is slow at first, tentative, her lips brushing mine like she’s testing. Then her fingers curl in my wet hair, and I can’t hold back.
I deepen it, tasting her, swallowing the soft sound she makes. Her body molds against mine, her bra slick against my chest, every curve fitting like it was carved for me.
My hand finds her breast, cupping it gently through the thin fabric. She shudders, arching into the touch, lips parting against mine. The sound that slips out of her makes my cock ache, even under the cold water.
I trace my mouth down her jaw, pressing wet kisses to her neck. My lips brush against the faint indentation there, the fading mark Simon left.
I pause, pulling back just enough to murmur against her skin.
“Does it still hurt?”
She shakes her head, water droplets sliding down her cheek. “No.”
My hand drifts lower, smoothing over her stomach, her hip, until my palm rests against the inside of her thigh. Her breath hitches, chest rising fast against mine.
“And here?” I murmur, my fingers brushing the edge of her panties. “What about here?”
Her breathing stutters, her nails digging lightly into my shoulders. “A little,” she admits, voice thin and shaky.
I press my hand more firmly over her, cupping her through the damp fabric. Her hips twitch, the tiniest whimper escaping her lips.
The sound awakens something primal in me.
“God, Wren,” I growl, moving my hand in careful circles. “You’re driving me out of my mind.”
Her thighs squeeze around my wrist as she presses into me, her lips parted, eyes fluttering shut. The waterfall roars behind us, but all I hear is her—the little gasps, the way she moans my name, soft and desperate.
I lower my forehead to hers, swallowing hard. “Tell me this isn’t just heat. Tell me you want me right now, like this.”
Her lashes lift, and those green eyes blaze into mine. “I want you, Beau. Not because of heat. Because it’s you.”
Fuck. That’s it. That’s all I need.
Her thighs tighten around my wrist, trembling, slick heat coating my fingers as she rides the edge. Her words slice through me, sharper than any command, deeper than any instinct.
Something in me breaks.
I press my mouth to hers, hard and hungry, tongue sliding against hers as I pull my hand free. She gasps, the loss making her whimper, but I’m already shifting, already fumbling at the waistband of my wet boxers.
My cock aches, heavy and leaking, the river’s cold doing nothing to numb the fire she’s lit inside me.
Her hand finds me under the water, fingers wrapping clumsily around me, and I groan into her mouth. She’s guiding me without words, lifting her hips in the current, thighs spreading as much as the water allows.
“Please,” she whispers against my lips, nails digging into my shoulders.
That’s all I need.
She whimpers as I slide her panties to the side, her hands pulling my boxers down.
I line up with her, the blunt head of me nudging against her soaked entrance. She’s so slick, so ready, that even through the rush of the river I can feel the molten heat of her core waiting for me.
I push forward slowly, inch by inch, my body shuddering as I breach her.
“Fuck—” The word tears out of me, guttural. She arches against me, lips parted in a sharp cry as I sink deeper.
The water slaps gently around us, cool against my overheated skin, but nothing can compare to the way she grips me. Tight, pulsing, like she was built to take me in and never let go.
Her head tips back, a gasp breaking into a moan. “Beau—”
“I’ve got you.” My hands cradle her hips as I bottom out, her walls fluttering around me, squeezing, claiming. For a second, I can’t move. The sensation is too much. Too perfect.
Then she rolls her hips, a needy, slight motion that drags me deeper still, and I fight not to lose the last shred of control. My lungs seize, the world blurs, and I press my forehead to hers to remember to breathe.
“Easy,” I grit, my hands braced around her ribs, holding her afloat. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her nails scrape down my back, a sweet sting that makes me shudder.
“You won’t,” she whispers, lips trembling against mine. “Just—please. Please, Beau.”
So, I move slowly. Careful. Short thrusts that slide me deeper inch by inch.
She gasps against my mouth, her body clenching down so hard it’s like she’s pulling me in. I bite back a curse and kiss her instead, sloppy and hungry, teeth catching her bottom lip as I push again.
Every little sound she makes goes straight to my spine.
A sharp whimper when I angle differently, a broken moan when my palm slides up to cup her breast. Her legs lock around my waist, holding me inside her like she’s terrified I’ll pull away.
“Not going anywhere,” I murmur against her skin, kissing her jaw, her ear, the wet line of her throat. “I’m right here, sweetheart. All yours.”
Her body answers before her words do. She arches, taking me deeper, and suddenly she’s shaking. It hits fast, a rush of wet heat around me, her breath shattering in my ear.
“Oh—dammit—” she chokes out, and then her face tilts toward the sky. Tears streak down her cheeks, mixing with the water, and I swear my chest nearly breaks open.
I kiss them away, frantic, reverent. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” I murmur, even as her body milks me, even as I fight the brutal edge of my own release. “So beautiful when you fall apart for me.”
But she doesn’t stop.
She clenches repeatedly, every ripple dragging another cry from her lips. My thrusts stay steady, measured, because she’s so sensitive I know rough would break her.
But slow? Slow keeps her right on that knife’s edge, and soon she’s coming again, biting my shoulder to muffle the sobs.
“Beau,” she gasps, voice shredded. “I can’t—I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” I kiss her mouth, sloppy and wet, tasting salt and river and her all at once. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”
Her thighs tremble around me, her chest rising hard against mine, and she falls again. And again. Every release tears through her until she’s clutching me like she’ll drown without me.
I don’t know how long it lasts—seconds, minutes, an eternity. I know I’m holding her tight, kissing her lips and her cheeks and the curve of her shoulder like I’ll never get enough.
She fits against me perfectly. Like she was made to, her small frame molded to mine, her cries muffled against my throat, her heartbeat racing in time with mine.
I’ve been with women before. Heat-driven, quick, the kind of release that scratches an itch but leaves you empty after.
This? This feels like something else entirely.
It feels dangerously close to making love.
I whisper her name into her hair, into her skin, like a prayer. She trembles, her tears still slipping even as she kisses me back, messy and desperate. Every press of her mouth tastes like confession.
And God help me—I could do this forever.
When her body finally eases, when her clenching slows and her breaths come steadier, I don’t let her go. I hold her, rocking us gently in the water, pressing soft kisses to her damp face.
“You okay?” I ask quietly, voice raw.
She nods, though her lips quiver. “Too okay.” A watery laugh escapes her. “That doesn’t make sense, but…”
“It makes sense to me.” I brush my thumb over her cheek, catching another tear before it disappears. “You’re perfect.”
She shakes her head, burying her face in my neck, but I don’t let her hide. I tilt her chin up, kiss her slow again, because I want her to know I mean it.
The waterfall roars behind us, the spray cool against my shoulders, but none of it matters. All I feel is her. All I want is her.
And as I move inside her again, slow and steady, her body answering mine with every roll of her hips, I realize there’s no turning back. Not from her.
Not ever.