Page 27 of Burning Skies
This is wrong on so many levels, but I couldn’t give a flyingfig about it. I’ve wanted this man for too long to second-guess this.
Reaching into my purse that’s barely clinging to my shoulder, I pull out my keys and hit the alarm on my car, which chirps, flashing its lights. I point toward the back of the lot. He doesn’t need any more direction. Like a man on a mission, he takes off toward my old Ford Explorer. Fortunately, it’s really dark out here, so I don’t think anyone sees him haul me across the parking lot.
He yanks open the back door, tosses me in, and follows behind me.
I scramble to sit up and push my hair out of my face. When Cynthia said she had to leave early, I was bummed.
Now, not so much.
My purse falls to the floor as I stare at Beau. He’s wearing that Wild Heart Fire Department t-shirt that looks so damn hot on him.
Beau’s green eyes darken as they travel over me, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands ball into fists as his jaw tightens. “Last chance, princess.”
He’s so intense. So wound up. So… angry.
Part of me takes sick pleasure knowing I do this to him. “I mean, if you want to back out, I’ll understand. Maybe you don’t have what it takes. Not every man can maintain an erection. It’s okay. They make pills for that, you know.”
He lets out a snort and rakes his hand through his thick, dirty blond hair. “What did you tell me earlier? To shut up? Why don’t you take your own advice and get your cute little ass over here.”
Playfully, I tap my bottom lip. “Not sure you deserve what I’m offering, Beau Walker.”
“I can guarantee you I don’t, but does any man?”
What?
I don’t have time to process what he says because a second later, I’m in his lap. For a moment, I have déjà vu. He’s the masked Musketeer, and I’m the disheveled princess.
Except I’m not that scared little college freshman anymore.
Shifting, I straddle his lap. With a coy smile, I wrap my arms around his muscular shoulders. “Hello, Beau.”
“Honey.” I can feel the conflict in his voice. That won’t do.
“I know you don’t want to do this with me. I get that you don’t want to want me. Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”
He grips my hips and looks down. “We’ll never work out.”
“Not in a million years. But I’m not asking you to marry me. You heard the story yourself. I’m going to marry some rich asshole.” That admission is hard for me to make. “But maybe we do this first and get it out of our systems once and for all.”
He swallows. “Once.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t fall in love with you if we have sex one time. Now if you helped me grout my bathroom, well, my heart might be lost forever.”
Beau finally cracks a smile. “I’d better not tell you how handy I am with tools.”
I chuckle. “You only have one tool I’m curious about right now.”
He grabs my hips, tugging me closer, until I can feel the huge bulge in his jeans. “Don’t worry. I got you.”
Game on.
I don’t know who reaches for who, but suddenly, we’re kissing again. I scramble to get closer, and his hand finds its way under my skirt, where he grips my ass. I run my fingers through his shaggy hair and breathe him in. He smells so good, like cologne and soap.
Exhilaration rushes through me. I feel like I’ve waited an eternity for Beau to want me.
We’re a tangle of grasping hands and groans. I help him tugoff his shirt, and then he reaches for mine and slides it over my head, which leaves me in a sheer, pale pink push-up bra, my skirt, and cowboy boots.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Honey.”
