Page 46 of Best Kept Secret

I was drowning in Beau. He was taking over my body and my mind. I couldn't do anythingbutfeel.

"Come for me, darlin'. I want to see you come. I want to feel you milk me," he urged his finger on my clit, strumming, pulling, stroking.

My hips were moving in counterpoint to the snaps of his as he filled me again and again, the friction maddening.

I felt the forerunners of my release start deep, deep, deep inside me, and when it happened, I let out a whimper as that was all the energy I had left. I leaned into Beau and rode the orgasm—it was long and hard, piercing in its intensity.

"That's it. Keep milking me."

He held on to me, thrusting up inside me again and again. He was pounding into me as if driven by the mad desire to find oblivion.

He let out a guttural sound, and then found his release.

"I want this every night," he mumbled against my boob. "I want you all the fucking time."

I stroked his hair. "I want you, too, Beau."And, I love you.

Chapter 18

Beau

If someone had asked me a few months ago what the best time of my life was, I wouldn't have an answer. I'd say something facetious like, "My whole life has been a party, man." But now, I knew. The past month since that first time I'd made love with Mira had been the fuckingbest.

Even Roxy had commented how she'd never seen me this content.

"I always felt that something was missing in your life. Now I can see that it was Mira and Pari, Beau, ‘cause you've never been more at peace."

Trevor and Katya agreed that I was in a good place, and Trevor had even accepted Mira as a family member. Katya was still withholding judgment. They didn't know we were sleeping together, but as Nova put it, "Anyone with eyes can see that."

I didn't deny it, but I didn't advertise it, either. Mama was still in the dark. And while I wasn't exactly a Mama's boy, eager to cater to her every whim, I wasn't looking for upheaval right now. I liked my life as it was. Mira and I spent most of our time at home with Pari, only going out when she came along. Date night was every night after Pari went to bed. We'd sit on the porch with a glass of something—wine, whiskey, whatever felt right—and end the night in bed. We'd start hungry, starved, aching for each other, and end sated and, as Roxy would say, at peace.

"Do I look okay?" Mira asked nervously.

Mira was going to meet with Nina Davenport at Savannah Lace to talk about the position of cafeteria manager. She was anxious and hadn't slept all night; asking me to fake interview her so she was prepared.

Telling her she had it in the bag wasn't easing her nerves. I wished I could tell her that she was guaranteed to get the job—not just because she was qualified, but because I'd already asked Nina to hire her. If necessary, I told Nina to charge Mira's salary to the Secure Systems account we had with Savannah Lace. Nina wouldn't do that, of course, but she assured me that Mira came with an excellent recommendation from Nova, someone she trusted completely. The last thing I wanted was for Mira to think I'd forced her way in; that would devastate her.

Mira looked older than her twenty-two years in a blue sheath dress borrowed from Nova, paired with simple black ballerina flats. I'd tried to buy her clothes when we'd shopped for Pari, but she'd not let me. I hadn't fought it. She'd come around once she got used tous, once she got comfortable with the idea of us being a family.

"You look professional and capable." I kissed her forehead, then her nose, and then her lips. Heat coursed through me. Just a touch, a kiss, and I wanted to fuck her into the mattress. This madness had never been there before. It was potent, and I was in its thrall. I also didn't mind it at all. I was enjoying the hell out of how Mira made me feel.

She licked her lips and I groaned. "You keep doin' that, darlin', and you'll be late."

She smiled as she always did when I told her how much I wanted her, how much she meant to me. The Mira who had been afraid of her own shadow was thriving—she hadn't changed, but she was more confident than she used to be. Unless Mama was around, she didn't question her role in my home and life—but the evenings and days Mama visited, she was quiet and broody. I'd tried to talk to my mother, but she was adamant about how Mira was nothing but the person who'd kept her away from her granddaughter.

Mira checked her bag; it was a cheap-looking black tote. I knew it cost all of twelve ninety-nine because I'd been there when she bought it. She wouldn't take money from me. She had accepted the phone, but she didn't use it unless it was to communicate with Nova or me.

The one thing Mira had accepted was that I'd take care of all the legalities when it came to Pari. My lawyers had now been in touch with Mira's parents' lawyers with a cease-and-desist letter, explaining that I was asserting my parental rights. We hadn't heard back from them.

A part of me wanted to reach out, to better understand their relationship with Mira and Asha. But I knew that would upset Mira. The moment her parents were mentioned, she looked like someone had a gun to her head.

Plenty of people didn't get along with their parents. Hell, my friend Stella had the same look whenever her father was around—not surprising, considering he was a monumental asshole. Anson despised his sister and kept his distance from his mother. So, it wasn't exactly unheard of that Mira didn't talk to her parents.

She pulled out the keys to her crappy Toyota that was parked in the garage next to my Range Rover. She still drove the car if she was going anywhere alone, which was seldom. With Pari, usually Roxy or I drove, so we took my SUV.

"You know you can take one of my cars," I offered again.

She shrugged. "Why? I have gas money."

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