Page 47 of Four More The Merrier

He picks up the pace slightly, his movements still controlled but more insistent. "You like that?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.

"Yes," I breathe out, my head falling back against the pillow. "God, yes."

He groans in response, his hands gripping my hips as he drives into me with more force. The bed creaks beneath us, the sound mixing with our ragged breaths and soft moans.

"You're incredible," he says between thrusts, his eyes never leaving mine. "Did you know I spotted you that first night in the crowd, when you were supposed to perform."

His confession catches me off guard but only adds to the intensity of the moment. "You did?" I question, my voice trembling with emotion.

"Yeah, you had your eyes closed, absorbed in your own world singing along to our songs. I thought then that you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever laid eyes on."

Beau's eyes soften for a moment before he leans down to kiss me again, his lips demanding and possessive. The kiss is a perfect reflection of our connection—passionate, raw, and real.

His pace quickens as we lose ourselves in each other, our bodies moving in perfect sync. Every stroke brings me closer to the edge until I'm teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

"Beau," I moan out his name again, my nails dragging down his back.

"I'm right here," he reassures me, his voice steady even as his own control starts to slip. "I've got you."

With one final thrust, he pushes me over the edge, and I cry out as waves of pleasure crash over me. Beau follows moments later, a deep groan escaping his lips as he finds his own release.

We collapse together in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets, both of us breathless and spent. Beau's weight is comforting on top of me as we catch our breath.

He brushes a strand of hair away from my face, his expression tender. "You okay?"

I nod, a satisfied smile spreading across my lips. "More than okay."

23

LYLE

Agiggle pierces through my sleep-addled brain, followed by the unmistakable sound of luggage being shoved around. I roll over in my bunk, pulling back the privacy curtain to find Beau and Quinn attempting to tetris what looks like half a department store into the storage compartment beneath the empty bunk.

"What in the name of Willie Nelson's braids is happening at..." I squint at my phone. "Seven in the morning?"

"Morning, sunshine." Quinn's face appears, flushed from exertion. "Sorry about the noise. These bags are being stubborn."

I sit up, careful not to bang my head on the ceiling like I did the first week on tour. "Someone want to fill me in on why we're playing luggage Jenga?"

"Quinn's moving in," Beau says, straightening up and wrapping an arm around her waist. "That piece of shit car finally gave up the ghost, so I convinced her to take the empty bunk."

"About damn time." I stretch, my joints popping.

Quinn chews her bottom lip, fidgeting with the zipper of her duffle bag. "You're absolutely sure this is okay? I don't want to impose-"

"Songbird, if you ask that one more time, I'm gonna start charging you rent." I swing my legs over the side of my bunk. "Besides, watching you try to stuff that suitcase under there is the best entertainment I've had all week."

Beau snorts.

"The only ones who might pitch a fit are Jarron and Austen, but they've got their private rooms in the back. They can deal." I say with a smile.

"Or kick rocks," Beau adds, grabbing his coffee thermos.

"I should probably warn you about living with four guys..."

Quinn raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Let's just say the bathroom situation requires..." I pause for dramatic effect, "patience. And possibly a hazmat suit."

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