Page 72 of Expecting an Argument
This was why I hadn’t let him feel the twins sooner. We were close, much too close, and I needed to ground myself back into reality.
I pursed my lips and swallowed. “So, you saw Katie at the gala.”
His eyes flicked up to meet mine and his brows furrowed. “She was there?”
He didn’t have to lie to spare my feelings. “How could you not see her? She was only a few tables away from us. She certainly sawyou.”
I instantly hated how bitter I sounded. Beau looked down at the mattress, a muscle feathered in his cheek, and a line formed between his knitted brows as he looked like he was rifling through a dust bin.
After a few moments, his eyes met mine again.
“I don’t remember seeing her,” he said, “I…I didn’t notice any woman there but you.”
My lips parted, but I couldn’t breathe. All the air in the room suddenly became too tight, too heavy, because he was giving me that look again.
Even though I was stretched and swollen, carried bags beneath my eyes and hunched with the weight of motherhood on my shoulders, Beau still looked at me like I was the only woman in the world.
Though I knew I shouldn’t, I couldn’t back away. Couldn’t stop myself from reaching up and holding each side of Beau’s jaw as I drowned in his eyes. Couldn’t fight the gravitational pullthat drew me closer, or the weight of my lashes as they fluttered closed, or how my lips gently pressed against his.
I had to have him.
Beau slid his fingers through my hair to cradle my head as he kissed me back. I played with the soft hair at the nape of his neck and breathed in the spearing scent of the hotel soap. The sheets rustled beneath us as he pulled me against him as closely as he could. His lips softly trembled against mine with every kiss, as if at any moment either of us could activate a landmine.
But kissing him wasn’t enough, just like sharing a bed with him wasn’t enough, and dancing with him wasn’t enough, and spending nearly every waking moment with him wasn’t enough.
“Beau,” I whined between kisses. “Please.”
“Please, what, Olivia?” he whispered into my mouth.
My hand trailed down the muscles on the side of his body until the very tips of my fingers disappeared beneath the waistband of his flannel pajama pants. My body had ached so much that we hadn’t had sex in weeks, but I needed him so badly that I didn’t care if it hurt.
“Please,”I begged against his lips.
“Just one more,” he promised, then he pulled my mouth to his again. The kiss was long and lingering, his thumbs stroking my hair as he gently breathed me in. My toes curled against the sheets—I could have melted like chocolate right onto his tongue.
He slowly broke the kiss and then whispered, “Get comfortable and I’ll come to you.”
I rolled over, facing away from him so I could rest on my left side. Beau slipped off my underwear and lifted the hem of my nightgown over my hips. He settled in directly behind me, his warm chest against my back and erection pressed into the soft curve of my ass.
He slipped his hand between my legs and traced circles around my clit as he kissed my shoulder and the back of myneck. I moaned and shuddered as he worked. My skin prickled with goosebumps. Pleasure flowed through my body.
When I couldn’t take the emptiness any longer, I reached back and wrapped my hand around him, guiding him into me. He groaned as he entered me and I gritted my teeth, fighting against the tightness in my hips to open up to him again.
“Liv,” he huffed against my shoulder, “are you sure?”
I reached back and grabbed his thigh, pulling him closer and driving him deeper. I gasped at the sharp stretch inside, but I craved more of him.
“Please,” I repeated.
So gently, patiently, he eased his way in until my body finally accepted him. I rolled my head back against my pillow and moaned from deep within my chest as he took me nice and slow, teasing my clit all the way.
His breath huffed against my shoulder blades as he kept pace, placing possessive kisses on my tattoo, my arm, and the top of my breast—everywhere his mouth could reach. He slipped ragged whispers in French across my earlobe that I couldn’t understand.
I didn’t know how to respond, and even if I did, I didn’t want to. So, I arched my back, dug my fingers into his thigh muscle, and let my body talk.
Too long had my different identities been at war with one another—a caring mother holding out against a ruthless lawyer, an independent adult imprisoning the inner child who yearned to be held. Each role placed a new burden on my back, forcing me to question who I was going to be.
But when Beau touched me, all I had to be was a woman.
