“Celeste, there’s something you should know first.”
His serious tone has me inwardly freaking out from all the possibilities.
“What?”
“It has nothing to do with finding out you’re pregnant, I was planning to tell you anyway.”
“So tell me, you’re making me nervous.” I low key beg him to continue.
Beau smiles in the shadows. “I love you.”
I can’t help the fresh tears. I’ve feared I’d never hear him say those words to me. I know his wife had a special place in his heart, and then, he was mad at me. My throat is clogged with emotions, but I don’t need to say a lot.
“Good. I love you, too.”
Beau’s smile jumps to all-teeth-visible watt, but it drops to desire once he pulls me down on top of him. We both gasp because it’s been a while. My fingertips dig into his chest as my head falls back. The feeling of Beau inside of me, stretching me until he fits is...everything. My breath hitches as I ride. Yet, I find a way to smile through my desire.
“Why are you smiling.”
“Nothing, it’s silly.”
Beau hums his pleasure before continuing. “No. It’s not. What is it?”
“I was thinking I’m back in the saddle. Just the expression, but it’s funny because I’m riding you.”
Beau chuckles but gets back to the task at hand. “And it feels damn good, baby.”
Women dig their nails into men during good sex all the time so it’s shocking and erotic when I feel Beau’s nails sink into me. I scream when my already sensitive body breaks into another orgasm.
“You’re such a lightweight,” Beau teases as he uses his hands on my hips to control me, making me pick up the pace and ride him harder. “I love how wet your pussy gets, now.”
“It’s a pregnancy sex perk; you missed the morning sickness phase. Consider yourself lucky…”
I lose my ability to speak. The swivel of his hips has me biting my lower lips. I’m overwhelmed with the feel of him deep inside of me and the emotions it stirs. Beau’s lips wrapping around my nipple causes the sensation to shoot through me like it’s electric.
“Fuck!” I mew as my eyes close and my head falls back.
The sound of our skin clapping together is magnified with the loss of one of my senses. Beau has to be the real deal because he makes me feel it all—physical and emotional.
“You have one more for me, Celeste.”
“No. Too sensitive. Too much—”
My sentence is broken by his thumb rubbing my clit. My body tightens harder than it's ever been. My orgasm is so potent it hurts. Beau follows, filling me with the warmth I crave from him.
He cuddles me like we were before the sex started and just before I fall into a content sleep I hear him whisper, “ No more secrets, Celeste.”
Weston
“I don’t care!Fucking find her!” I slam the phone in my office down on the stupid-ass private dick I hired.
He’s been running surveillance on her parents and hasn’t found any clue of her visiting them. It’s a position he chose. I know they’re not giving anything up and he’s wasted weeks and my money watching them being boring. I would have them killed, but who would plan Celeste’s funeral? I have the local police in my pocket, but they can’t do anything if she’s the next town over. I’d go find the bitch myself but I cannot guarantee I won’t try to kill her on the spot.
No one embarrasses me the way she did and continues to breathe. My dad doesn’t have power over the cop she was with because he’s not a cop in this town. Maybe she’s fucking him. I shoot the idiot a text to go find that asshole and follow him. I know the country club will give him the surveillance tapes from that night. I bet he’ll find her then.
Police custody won’t mean a damn thing if they’re both dead. The memory of how she looked that night makes me hard. I hate how that traitorous whore still has power over my dick. Her death will kill it. I have no desire to fuck a corpse.
Until then, I have to channel my rage as sanely as possible. I pluck a steel dart from my set and rub the shaft between my thumb and forefinger as I stare at the picture of Celeste. She’s going to pay until I cum. I toss the dart at the picture on the wall. It sticks in her right eye. Good. I’m going to do worse when I find her.
