Page 33 of Beg Me

“Gus.” My warning is met with laughter from him and Markie. “Behave. Please.”

I’ll never get her over here again if you keep it up.

We finish our meal, chatting easily about all things from rugby to pumpkins. Gus explained what he loves about living in the desert, and she told us about the upcoming Sugar Festival. Gus decided it was an event he couldn’t possibly miss.

I listen to their banter, feeling a strange sense of contentment. I’ve never had a woman over for dinner when Gus is around. It’s not even something I’ve considered. But this is so easy, so organic, as if I’m getting a glimpse of what life could look like.

It makes me wonder how much Gus must miss his “first dad” and having dinner around the table with him and Deidre. To be honest, I’ve never given that much thought either. Should I ask Gus about him and what he misses? Is it good for him to talk about it?

As I clean up dinner, Markie and Gus return to the math packet. By the time the dishwasher is loaded and the trash has been taken to the garage, they’re finished.

“Can I please play a video game now?” Gus asks. “I mean, I did the math packet.” The corner of his lip turns to the ceiling. “And you two probably want some alone time.”

Markie laughs, shaking her head. “You’re a little shit.”

“Go on,” I say, barely getting the words out before he’s racing to the living room.

His absence is felt immediately as the air in the room grows warmer. Markie tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and gazes up at me with a coy smile.

Holy fuck, she’s beautiful.

“I should get going,” Markie says, her voice softer. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Feel free to stop by anytime. We eat three times a day plus snacks.”

She laughs.

“Come on,” I say, gently placing my hand in the small of her back. “I’ll walk you out.”

She ever-so-slightly leans into my touch. My fingers flex against her shirt, dying to slip beneath the fabric and touch her skin.

I lead her to the door and wait for her to exit first, then I step out into the darkness behind her.

The air is warm with a gentle breeze rippling through the trees in the yard. A thousand stars sparkle in the sky. Hints of her perfume drift in the air, the soft notes dancing through my senses as I commit them to memory.

Being with her feels strangely intimate. And instead of recoiling at the idea of being on that level with a woman, my instinct is to embrace it. To hold it. To hold her. There’s still so much about her that I don’t know, but I fear if I go digging, she’ll pull away.

“Thanks for bringing the key,” I say as we reach her car.

Instead of opening the door, she faces me, and her brown eyes search mine.

I stand in front of her with my arms at my sides, letting her know that I’m not going anywhere. She can see whatever she wants, ask me whatever questions are in that pretty little head. I think it’s the only way I’ll get to show her that I’m not here to hurt her like the other men in her life.

“I was on the path to having a shitty evening, so thanks for inviting me to stay,” she says. “I’m kind of surprised that I did, to be honest, but I’m glad I made that decision.”

“Trust me, I got the key and avoided having to teach my kid fractions. I got the better end of the deal.”

Her grin nearly steals my breath. It’s genuine and, maybe for the first time, unguarded. My heart races as my gaze sinks into hers.

Silence settles in the space between us, a stillness that feels pregnant with anticipation. It’s not awkward or tense, but it’s dangerous all the same.

I shift my weight as my gaze drops to her mouth—to those plump pink lips that I can imagine wrapped around my cock. Her breath hitches, her tongue swiping across her pout. When I lift my attention to her face, the look in her eyes nearly undoes me.

If I were a betting man, I’d bet that she’s feeling the same thing as me.

“You better stop that,” I say, forcing a chuckle that’s filled with the sexual frustration bubbling inside me.

“Stop what?” she asks as if she doesn’t know what she’s doing to me.