“I still haven’t changed my mind, Celeste.” I tease one nipple with my tongue, then the other.
“About what?” She’s only half-paying attention to what I’m saying.
“No sex.”
The way her eyes pop open is comical.
“What? Come on, Beau! This is cruel and unusual punishment. You just can’t…Ohhh!” Her protest ceases when the tip of my tongue toys with her clit. I moan because I love her unique flavor. I dive into my mission, taking my job seriously. “I mean...I mean, rules are rules,” she rasps when I continue to pleasure her with my tongue.
My dick is so hard it hurts, but I’m trying to comfort her even if it requires me to meet in the middle of both of our definitions of comfort. I cannot undo everything that asshole did, but in this moment, with my head nestled between her legs, I’m able to make her forget everything else, including her name.
Celeste
It rained for two days,and Beau was stingy just as long—no sex, just cards, board games, television, and crossword puzzles. I learned that I floated to the next town over. His family is like the Chesterfields—old money. A great majority of his town and my town is inhabited by the filthy rich. Beau’s family used to be chocolatiers, but his great-grandfather sold the family business and invested in technology. The family was mad at him for investing in a fad. His instincts paid off because he’d bought stock in companies that are now worth billions, thus tripling his family’s net worth.
Beau didn’t want to do stocks and trades; he found out early that he wanted to be a lawyer. He was naturally argumentative—which he proved when I was owning his ass in Monopoly—and wanted to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. Right now, I’m learning about his family while kicking his ass at Uno.
“Draw four, draw two, skip you, reverse back to me, and UNO!”
The hurricane may have passed, but the subsequent damage control has just begun. According to the news, some roads are impassable, and there is still some area flooding. Beau and I haven’t shown much interest in finding out if we are affected. He’s on vacation, and I am not that interested in returning to reality. We both know our end is inevitable; we’re choosing to ignore it.
“You are a savage game player,” Beau sighs as he throws his cards on the table. “Your deal.”
I scoop up the cards, stack them, then shuffle. “You are a savage sex withholder, I wouldn’t be this sharp if I didn’t have all this lustful energy…”
Beau shoots me the look that I’ve come to learn means ‘not going to work’ then shakes his empty cup at me.
“Refill?”
I exhale sharply and rest my cheek on my palm. “If we must.”
With a wink, he’s off into the kitchen to get more strawberry lime lemonade. I know what he’s doing, and I commend him for it. He wants me to understand that he’s trying to respect my body and my mind. He wants me to realize that I’m a person and not a sexual object. He wants me to learn that a man should be willing to spend time with me outside of sex and insults. What he’s not getting is that I already know these things. I had over a year and a half to detox from Wes’ negativity. I know he was selling me bullshit, and he’s the flawed psychopath. I just need to make Beau understand that I know. Our time is expiring. I don’t want to return back to my life on ‘what-ifs.’
I notice his wallet on the coffee table. I scoop it up and start snooping. You know what they say…idle hands.
“Beauford Huron Scott,” I read out loud as he re-enters the room.
His green eyes increase in diameter. “Are you snooping?”
He’s nowhere near alarmed as he should be. Either way, I move out of his reach and continue rifling through his wallet.
“Yes. Consider me a white dog with black ears because, bitch, I’m Snoopy.”
“Give that back!” He laughs as he reaches for me.
“Ohhh! A metal card, you are from old money. How fancy, Beauford. Pardon me, Mr. Beauford Huron Scott, do you have any Grey Poupon?”
“Actually, I do. Celeste Chesterfield.”
I clutch my chest as if he just stabbed me. “Ouch. That was a low blow, Scott.”
I crumble to the floor as if he has actually wounded me and pull a pout for good measure.
The humor drops from his face, and he rushes to me and picks me up, settles me in his lap on the couch, and hugs me.
“I’m sorry, Celeste. I know he’s a bastard. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
It’s confirmed. Beau thinks my psyche is fragile. I’m just as aware as he is that Wes tried to kill me, but it was just a confirmation of what I suspected. Wes is my problem to be dealt with in the future.
