Her eyes widen, watching as I stretch the rubber over my length. Her eyes follow my fingers south and stay right there, on my hard-as-fuck dick, just staring like she’s never seen a guy before. Like she wants to eat me all up.
‘Bailey,’ I warn, my voice dragged from deep within.
Her eyes jerk back to mine and she lifts her hips once more. ‘Please.’ It’s a simple but desperate cry. ‘Take me, Beau. I need you.’
I grip her hips, my fingers digging into her flesh, and I hitch my tip right at her sex, my eyes on hers, as I begin to push inside, slow, steady, inch by inch, watching her. But she’s so goddamn tight, her muscles squeeze me so hard, I almost lose it then and there. I have to stop altogether, suck in a breath, get some control back, before I start to move again.
She says my name on a desperate groan, hungry and satiated all at once, so I push in the rest of the way, hard and fast, then just rest there, buried deep inside Bailey, both of us breathing too hard, like we’ve just been bucked off a bull. Both of us getting used to this feeling, the newness of this. I don’t know if she moves first or if I do, but suddenly our hips are rocking, hammering together, skin on skin, sweat beading down my spine, aches and pains forgotten as I surrender to the perfection of this, to being buried deep inside of this woman, to knowing every inch of her body, all of her, feeling her wrap around and welcome me, having her ride this wave with me. Our fingers mesh and I push her hands over her head, holding them with one of mine, as I move over her body, each thrust making her bounce against the mattress, making her cry out a little. She writhes beneath me, twisting, contorting, wanting, needing, and bucks her hips to take me deeper, then wraps her legs around me to keep me buried all the way inside, her voice shrieking through the room—my name, and then a plea, and finally just a moan as the waves break for her, and she’s coming again, her muscles squeezing me so hard that my control starts to slip. But I hold on, not wanting this to be over yet. Wanting to keep feeling her,driving her wild, eking out my own pleasure, even when I know this is just the goddamn beginning. We have weeks to keep doing this, and there’s no way on God’s green earth I’m letting a night go by where she’s not in my bed.
Not after tonight.
I wanted her before, but knowing the euphoria of this, I am going to keep on taking what she’s offering, for as long as she’s offering, because I cannot imagine doing anything else.
‘You are perfect,’ I say, dropping my head and kissing her again.
She just groans, her body soft now. I release her hands and she moves them to my hips, holding me there, her nails digging in a little, so my muscles complain, the aches briefly resurfacing. She must feel me wince because she stops. When I look down, she’s staring right up at me. I smile, and slowly she returns it. I stay like that a while, gaze fixed on her face, and then I move my hips, just once, so her eyes go wide and she trembles in response. She arches her back, cries out, and suddenly we’re moving again, this desperate, hungry dance of ours taking over completely, so I’m pushing her back to insanity, and this time I’m chasing right after her. This time, when she explodes, I explode right alongside her, and it’s Bailey who wraps her arms around me and puts the pieces back together when I feel like I’ve been scattered all over the room. Pleasure’s never felt so damn good.
Chapter Ten
Bailey
It only dawns on me afterward, with Beau’s body weight still on mine, my hands idly stroking his warm, smooth skin, that he’s the first man I’ve slept with since Kirk. Not really by design. It’s not like Kirk had any great sexual hold on me, or whatever.
But after him, I had no interest in getting involved with anyone else, and that’s usually a prerequisite for sex.
‘You know, this is a first for me.’
He pushes up to look down into my eyes and something in my chest flexes. A recognition. I know what we just shared is meaningless, but there’s something about Beau that calls to me anyway. A goodness, a decency, that I’d lost faith in finding.
‘Sex?’ he teases, slipping right back into that joking persona of his. And I’m glad. The last thing I want is to fall into that trap of having some kind of deep and meaningful.
‘Sex, with no strings, with someone I barely know.’
‘Well, now, we’ve already agreed we’re going to get to know each other,’ he points out.
I ignore the warning siren that quickly bursts through me. Getting to know each other can exist outside the bounds of sex. And if it can’t, if it seems like things are getting messed up, then I’ll just walk away. Shut this side of things down. After Kirk, I’ll never need anyone again. Not like I let myself with him.
‘That’s true,’ I say. ‘In a professional capacity, anyway.’
He grins. ‘Sure, if you say so.’
I ignore it. And that pesky little warning siren. ‘But I guess for you, this is pretty much part of your post-event celebration?’
Something shifts in his expression. Something I don’t know how to interpret, because it’s a different reaction for him. ‘Nah, not these days.’
I arch a brow. ‘You’re saying it’s not a different girl every night?’
He laughs, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘Maybe once upon a time. I leave that to the young guys on the tour now.’
‘You’re twenty-eight,’ I point out. ‘Hardly a grandfather.’
‘For this sport, it’s getting up there.’
That really bothers him. There’s a defensiveness in his tone, a panic too, that’s completely at odds with his usual carefree manner.
‘So you’re saying you’re like a born-again virgin or something?’ I can’t resist teasing, trying to bring a little levity back to the conversation.
But he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead, then rolls off me, onto his back, staring at the ceiling. I angle my face so I can see him.
