Beau laughed, the sound of it coiling around my heart, and I took his hand again, lacing our fingers together. Someone squealed and we both turned our heads to see a woman jumping up and down with a small bouquet of flowers, a bashful-looking man standing in front of her. Who gave someone flowers at the beach?
“Do you like flowers, Lea?” I looked at Beau, who was watching me with a contemplative expression, his cheeks still flushed a pretty pink.
“Hm. I dunno. No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.”
“Oh. Maybe?— ”
“Guys, help me!” Judy came barreling out of the store lugging four huge bags, obviously struggling with the weight of them. Good god, this girl.
With a sigh, I got up to help my sister carry the bags. “Judy…I think you have a problem.”
“I’ve got two big strapping men to help me, I see no problems here.”
Right.
“Thankgod Riley invited Judy out again. Although…you don’t think they’re getting up to any funny business, do you?” I flicked the lock on the door and turned toward Beau, who was slipping his sandals off.
We’d decided to skip the swimming lesson for tonight—both of us were impatient to pick up where we’d left off on that bench.
“Uh…no? I thought Riley was gay?” he said.
I choked and then burst out laughing. “What? No. He’s straight as hell.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
I kissed the top of Beau’s head, said, “Don’t apologize,” then backed him up against the wall. He grabbed onto my hips and made a startled sound as he looked up at me with those gorgeous brown eyes.
I leaned down to whisper against his lips, “Just take off those clothes and come fuck me, Beau. I can’t wait another second.”
He moaned against my mouth, and then he was kissing me hungrily, pressing himself into me with a fervor that set my blood on fire.
A few times now I’d noticed it was like a switch had been flipped somewhere inside of Beau; he’d be shy and blushing one second, and then it was like he’d been shot with confidence and passion, as if all his insecurities had melted away and he was simply letting himselffeelin the moment.
It made me a little wild, stirred some kind of frantic energy inside of me that demanded more from him. I slid my hands to his ass as he wrapped his arms around my neck, his tongue doing things to me that were only accelerating these feverish needs. How could someone so sweet be this fucking sexy? Maybe it was just because it was him.
Yeah.
With a groan, I gripped him right under his ass and lifted.He immediately wrapped his legs around my waist and started rutting against me as he kept thrusting his tongue inside my mouth, making small, needy sounds that had me leaking precum and feeling dizzy with how much I wanted him.
Fuck, it was almost too much when he got like this. But I was crazy for it. Knowing that he was letting himself go and doing what felt good—after so many years of hiding from those feelings, from the truth—filled me with an immense amount of satisfaction.
I needed him to be happy after a lifetime of mistreatment at the hands of a woman who never deserved him. I needed him to have whatever he wanted, and if that was me…then he could have me.
“Beau,” I panted, pulling away. He made a sound of protest, rubbing himself against me and chasing after my lips. His eagerness was like an aphrodisiac, and the sight of him—flushed, panting, lips parted, eyes hooded, pupils blown—was making me lose my mind.
I held him tight and crossed the room, letting him fall to the bed and following him down. He kept his legs wrapped around me, kept rolling his hips against mine, the friction of our cocks sliding together sending throbbing jolts of pleasure through my body.
I was on the brink of losing control.
“Take off your clothes,” I rasped, sitting up so I could rip my shirt off and fling it across the room. Beau did the same as I yanked off my shorts, and then I was helping him get his pants off and when we were finally naked, our cocks finally touching, I leaned down and swirled my tongue around his nipple. He gasped, then moaned loudly and grabbed my hair, tugging as I nibbled and tongued the hard bud of his nipple.
He’d figured out that I liked having my hair pulled a bit, and the fact that he noticed and kept doing it because he knew I liked it only turned me on even more.
His hips moved restlessly, and when I looked up at him, he had his head thrown back, the pretty column of his throat exposed. I licked a line up to his neck and sucked on his Adam’s apple, nibbled over his jaw, and took his lips in a hungry kiss.
When he got like this, it revved me up even more, like we were attuned to the same frequency that only climbed higher every time we touched. It was heady and arousing and empowering all at once, and I wanted more.
More of him, more of this. Justmore.