He opens a condom package and slides it on over his dick, giving it a few extra pumps once it’s on fully. The sight fries what little brainpower I had and I flop back flat onto the bed so we can get to the good part.
“Okay, I’m back.”
“Thanks,” I say in appreciation over his concern for safe sex. Now that’s more like how a nice guy fucks.
He gets back into the position he was in before he left, but this time he rubs his wrapped dick against my clit with no hesitation. The heat in my lower stomach builds up slowly, until I’m a squirming mess under him, legs pulled up to cradle his hips.
“You’re so beautiful, Baby Girl.” He rains kisses down on my face and neck, only stopping when I catch his mouth in a kiss. The endearment makes my chest warm, a confusing development when I thought all my heat was traveling south. And I’m not entirely comfortable with the fact that he can make that heat rise in so many different areas...someemotionalareas.
“You feel amazing,” I say, pushing away my discomfort and ending on a gasp when he starts thrusting shallowly into me, his fingers replacing his dick at my clit.
I want more of that.
His other hand fists in my hair causing a sting, holding my head steady while his tongue does to my mouth what his dick is doing to me further south. He keeps up the rhythm until the combined movements push me over the edge and I come around his dick. He lasts a few more thrusts before he gives in with a mini roar.
He collapses next to me, tossing the condom in what I hope is the trash can, and pulls me in close to his side, sticky bodies fusing together. Beau’s breathing immediately evens out and I spare a second being impressed by his ability to fall asleep so fast before I make my great escape. It’s not easy to leave this bed, but necessary. Before any more of those emotional parts get more confused. And cuddling would not help the process.
I flinch as I pull away and our skin unsticks, hoping the noise won’t disturb the sleeping man next to me. Orgasms seem to be the last of my luck, because he groggily looks up at me.
“Just going to the bathroom. Go back to sleep.” I escape to that room, grabbing my clothes on the way. My tights take longer to find, but it’s even colder outside than it was when I came into the hotel, so it’s worth the extra time.
Facilities used, I quickly dress and tiptoe to the door of the hotel room. I risk a last look at the sleeping farmer and see him waiting with the sheet lifted up in invitation.
“Hey, where are you goin’?” His eyes are half-closed and his voice is rough with sleep, making his accent deeper again.
Chapter Nine
“Um. Nowhere.” I have my shoes in my hands calling me a liar, so I feel compelled to clarify. “Well, obviously somewhere. Home.”
Beau sits up in the bed, covers falling to his waist. “It’s the middle of the night. You don’t need to rush off; you can stay over.”
Oh. That’s a new one. Most of my previous romantic partners were either firmly against sleepovers like I am, or the few times I bent my rule we had awkward morning afters where I wished the person had left after sex.
I was hoping to avoid any awkwardness with Beau, but now we’re doing an awkwardmomentafter, and it’s a lot worse.
“I don’t want to impose,” I say, overly formal to someone who was just inside me.
“Jesus, you’re knee high to a June bug. I don’t think you’ll take up too much space in this king-size bed.”
“What is a June bug? How big is it if I’m knee high to it? Nope.” I shake my head and hold out my hands with my shoes still in them. “Irrelevant. It’s a busy time at work and I just want to sleep in my own bed.”
Beau yawns and stretches, contracting and lengthening all the muscles in his arms and chest. And abs. The heat in my lower stomach starts building again, despite how sexually satisfied I just was.
He doesn’t know how close he is to getting jumped by a lust-crazed auctioneer.
“Well, hold on a second and I’ll get dressed and ride back with you.” Beau starts to get out of bed.
“This is my home city. I can get back alone. In fact, I’ve often gone to and from my own apartment.”
“But it’s the middle of the night. I can’t let you go out there by yourself.” He gestures out his window like it’s London during the Blitz.
My hands move to my hips, and I snort. “I thought we had this conversation about your permission and my ability and everything.” Plus now I want to go home alone just to prove I can.
He hurries up gathering clothes from the floor and shoves his legs into his pants, sensing I could sprint out of here at any second on a wave of the most righteous indignation.
“Of course you can. I have no doubt you could leave here and travel to Buckingham Palace or the pyramids or Machu Picchu and be fine. You’re incredibly skilled. But just because you can doesn’t mean you should have to. Not when I’m here. I can keep you company and I’ll feel better knowing you got home safe.”
He sounds so reasonable.
