”That’s right, baby. Use my dick to make that tasty pussy of yours cream. I love how tight you get when you cum on my cock.”
“Damn. Dirty Talking Beau makes me so hot.”
Celeste grinds me harder and picks up the pace.
“Good. Keep riding me while I tell you every dirty thing I’m going to do to you this weekend.”
* * *
Celeste
It’s a beautiful morning, but I don’t want to venture outside. The paranoid part of me fears somehow running into Wes. The emotional side of me wants to soak every moment I can in Beau’s arms. I don’t know how he does it, but I feel more content with him than I’ve felt in years. It’s not the sex—although it is spectacular— it’s him. He calms my inner turmoil even when he’s asleep. Right now, I’m lying on my stomach facing away from his sleeping form as I stare outside. He looks so peaceful, it hurts to look at him. Our time is running out. I will miss him more than I want to admit, but I cannot drag him into my hell. I ignore the tears threatening to fall. Crying won’t change anything.
“I can feel you thinking.” His voice is sleep roughened and amused.
I close my eyes and withhold an exhale when his warm hand caresses my naked back. I want to fold into his embrace but I resist.
“I can’t help it. There’s so much to consider.”
“Such as?” My eyes flutter when Beau’s lips brush my shoulder blade, and his low beard tickles me just the right way.
“First, do me a favor.”
“What?” I give in when his arm wraps around my waist and pulls my back to his chest.
“Stay just the way you are.”
His chest rumbles with laughter. “Physically or mentally?”
“Both. I mean, it’s okay to grow mentally.”
“I can’t grow physically?”
I roll my eyes at his joke. “Ha! Haaa! I’m just saying you’re pretty perfect to me.”
“I’m not perfect. You never know, I could still be a serial killer who likes to gain the trust of his victims. I might get off on watching possible adoration turn into fear.
“Well, first you’d need a new plot or patience. Wes pretended to be nice and terrorized me once we were married. You got one part right; I do adore you.” I feel him stiffen a little. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to get you to marry me; I hear it’s illegal since I’m technically still married.” He gets quiet. I smirk because I’ve stunned a lawyer. Aren’t they supposed to be able to talk through anything? “Also, I’m quite fond of your chest hair, the length of your beard, and your haircut.”
“Ah so you are a fan of my assets.”
“The biggest. You’re kind, too. You didn’t have to save me, but you did.”
“You saved yourself; I just fed you and gave you a place to rest.”
“You did so much more and you know it.” I’m in my feelings, and I need to climb out. “Anyway, I have nothing to wear. I guess I’ll do a Christina Ricci impression fromBlack Snake Moantomorrow. I’ll show up half-naked with no shoes.”
“That’s not happening. I kind of like being the only one allowed to see your goodies.” I’m alarmed that I like the hint of possessiveness in his tone. It should be off-putting with the hell I’ve lived, but it’s as if my subconscious knows that Beau is not that guy. He’ll never be awful like Wes.
Either way, I wiggle out of his embrace. Hit him with a warning about having to pee. It’s true but it’s not as urgent as I made it seem. I need to start weaning myself from the life I’d imagined. All I ever wanted was a peaceful existence with a man who cared about me and my interests, who wanted to listen when I spoke, and who encouraged me instead of criticizing me.
Now that I am finally feeling safe to share my thoughts and dreams with someone who seems to care, my time with him is ending fast. He has his life to live, and I have mine to save. I drag through my morning grooming to give myself time to look less pouty. It didn’t work because the moment I open the door a broody, sexy, and half-naked Beau, with bedhead, is waiting on the other side.
He is standing just outside the door, with his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants, looking serious and edible.
“Did I say something to upset you?”
The sincerity and concern in his tone break my defenses. He pulls me into his arms at the first sign of a tear. I’ve been a weepy mess lately. I’m starting to lose count of my episodes. Beau cares if he hurts me verbally, yet I’m still legally married to a guy who likes to hurt me in every way possible. I have to leave the protection of good to face evil.
