He leaned in until his mouth brushed my ear. “Startin’ with my tongue. Ending with you falling asleep so sore and satisfied you can’t remember any ghost stories.”
My pulse kicked hard enough I could hear it.
I swallowed hard. “You really think that’ll work?”
He grinned slow and dangerous. “I think if I eat yourpussy the way I’m plannin’ to, you’re gonna forget your own damn name, let alone the Shadow Painter.”
A full-body shiver worked through me.
“I mean…” I said, teasing, breath catching, “that does sound therapeutic.”
“Baby,” he murmured, voice all gravel and promise, “I’m gonna make you forget how to be scared. Gonna keep you so full of me you won’t even have room for fear.”
I let out a soft sound and stood, brushing my hands against my thighs to cover how much I was shaking.
“Already?” Delilah asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Beau stood behind me, slow and unbothered, slinging an arm over my shoulders like a man who’d just claimed a prize at the fair.
“Yup,” Beau said. “Bedtime.”
“Bedtime,” Shane repeated, scandalized. “It’s not even midnight!”
“Exactly,” Beau said. “Plenty of time.”
Delilah cackled. “Don’t forget to say goodnight to the ghost cat!”
“I plan to make so much noise the Shadow Painter’ll run scared,” Beau drawled. “Ain’t nothin’ darker than what I’m about to do to her.”
A chorus of whoops and whistles broke out around the fire. I flipped them all off good-naturedly as Beau unzipped the tent and guided me inside—but I barely heard the teasing behind us anymore.
Because the second the flap closed, Beau’s hands were on my hips.
And the ghost stories didn’t matter anymore.
CHAPTER 22
Beau
I would be lyingif I said Noelle’s story hadn’t freaked me out a little…but there was no better way to forget than losing myself in the woman I loved.
And God, Ididlove her. More than I could say out loud. More than I thought I was allowed to, this fast.
She was already on her knees in the tent, yanking her hoodie over her head, cheeks flushed and eyes still a little wild. I dropped beside her, cupping her jaw, kissing her like I needed her to survive the night. Maybe I did. Maybe I was scared too—but I’d never admit that out loud. Not when I could bury that fear between her thighs instead.
“You scared?” I asked, low and ragged against her mouth.
She nodded once, then shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Good,” I murmured, easing her back against the sleeping bag. “Means you’re gonna feel everything I do to you that much more.”
She shivered. I watched it roll through her like a tide. My hands skimmed up her ribs, dragging her shirt with them. Her bra was soft and gray, nothing fancy, but it mademy blood go hot in my veins just the same. I kissed the top of her breast, then unhooked her bra with a flick of my fingers.
“I get it, you know,” I murmured.
“Get what?” she asked, voice hoarse.
“The idea of that ghost cat followin’ you,” I whispered. “I mean…I’d follow you anywhere, Noelle Kinney.”
