Chapter Thirteen #2
She was the doctor. He had to do what she ordered.
He eased the folds aside with his thumbs and licked at her opening, then slid his tongue inside.
She smelled and tasted fantastic, and he thrust his tongue in and out, feeling the pulsing and clenching of muscles build until she couldn’t contain them.
She stiffened, cried out, and he did what he could to prolong her enjoyment.
The quivering inside her peaked, then started to ebb, and he took advantage of the moment of weakness to rid her of the panties binding her legs.
She opened hot indigo eyes. “Not so fast. We aren’t finished yet.”
Words his erection was dying to hear. It trembled and jerked with eager anticipation.
They worked their way to her bedroom. He’d never been inside it before, but all he cared about now was the double bed. That was what was important. The pink and white quilt, the curtains, the dresser … peripheral details at best.
He’d hoped to handle this with more finesse, but the clock was ticking, and if he waited much longer, they’d be bound for disappointment. He tossed her on the bed, and within seconds, was inside her. The eager tightness and heat she greeted him with had him praising the lord.
And Belle was no silent partner. She welcomed each thrust with demands for harder, and faster, and when he came, she was right there along with him for the joyous occasion. He thought he heard angels.
When the room stopped spinning and the angels fell silent, she was nestled against him with a leg hugging his thighs and an arm on his chest. Her head was tucked under his chin and her uneven breath warmed his throat.
She said something. The words were muffled because her lips were pressed to his skin and he had trouble deciphering them, so they didn’t register right away. When he figured them out, they didn’t make sense.
I’m sorry.
Sorry for what? Was she apologizing to him?
Wasn’t that sweet.
“No worries,” he said, running his hand over her hip. “You’ll get better with practice.”
“I didn’t mean to be so … aggressive,” she persisted. “This wasn’t something you wanted.”
She seemed determined to make this an issue. She’d needed it, and as it turned out, so had he. He’d been here for close to six weeks and denied them both this. If apologies were in order, then he owed one to her.
“Let’s get something straight. I’m bigger and stronger than you. If I hadn’t wanted this just as much as you did, then it wouldn’t have happened.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He kissed the top of her head. “Quit stealing my lines.”
She stopped talking, and soon, her breathing grew steady. Her body felt limp and relaxed, as if she were physically exhausted. She was probably worn out mentally, too. Family drama did that to people.
Beau played with her hair. He and his family were close, even though the last year or so had been hectic and their dynamics had shifted somewhat as his paycheck increased.
The Joneses had never had money to spare, and to be honest, he’d been too generous in handing it out, so he owned responsibility for them acting like wild-assed mega lottery winners.
But he loved his mother and sisters and was glad he was able to do things for them. He’d once loved Jen, too, enough that he was okay with doing things for her now that he couldn’t do when they were married. At seventeen she’d been his whole world, and he’d been hers.
That right there was why his sisters persisted in showing Jen their support.
They knew how much he’d once loved her, and they held on to the belief that the two of them would work things out, because that was what they’d done in the past. As adults, however, they’d drifted too far apart.
They had different dreams, and Beau was good with that—although the affair, not so much.
Belle had never had any family to speak of.
No stability, even before her father went to jail.
Only herself to rely on. And yet she’d turned out to be adorably caring and sweet, with a hot temper for balance that made her any man’s dream.
She might not know what love was, but she had a lot in her to give, and if their situations were different, he could see himself falling for her.
But he had a life in the real world, with contracts to fulfill and people who counted on him.
And he’d already figured out something that hadn’t occurred to her yet—that there would be no taking her away from all this, because Benny and Mavis weren’t going to let her go.
They’d probably never intended to, right from the beginning.
Fast forward four years and she’d be married to Jayce, with one or two beautiful babies, because the slim pickings manwise around here were real, and she was too warm-blooded to spend the rest of her life sleeping alone.
His brain shied away from thoughts of her with Jayce and any pretty babies they’d make.
Instead, he contemplated what to do next and how they could extract themselves from this mess.
Chemistrywise, they had two weeks to get each other out of their systems. Beau had his doubts as to whether two weeks would do, but that was hardly the biggest problem they faced, because emotionally, Belle was going to need his support, and how much was too much or too little?
She stirred beside him. Snuggled in deeper. And he decided there could be no such thing as too much. He twined the lock of her hair he’d been toying with around his index finger and gave a gentle tug. Just hard enough to get her attention.
“You still want to shake up the script?”