Page 25 of Midnight & Mavericks

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she blurted, stepping back.

His brows furrowed, a flicker of something crossing his face. “Okay, whatever you say, but it sure feels like something.”

She laughed. “I’m not saying I’m not feeling stuff right now. What I’m saying is this can’t be anything,” she said firmly, though her trembling hands betrayed her. “You’re leaving. I’m leaving. This is… just one of those things between two consenting adults. Agreed?”

Beau studied her for a long moment, his gaze piercing. “Agreed.”

“Good.” She said and stepped into his arms again. “Okay, then let’s get to it. I don’t have all night. Show me where the handcuffs are kept.”

He grinned and pulled her by her hand down the hall, past the living room, past the kitchen, and into his bedroom. “My pleasure, sweetheart.”

And just for a few hours, she would allow herself to feel, knowing there would be no complications when morning came.

Chapter Fifteen

Beau had had his share of one-night stands, but this didn’t feel like one. He was in deep trouble the minute he opened that damn door and saw Abbie standing there. He knew he’d probably lied when he’d agreed that this was just a one-night stand and there would be no commitments or expectations after tonight.

But she didn’t have to know that. He knew once he crossed this line, there would be no way back. Was he ready to spend a life pining after a woman who wouldn’t give him a second thought once she’d left Jessup Peak behind?

Abbie’s fingers curled around his towel and pulled him closer. She was a master of kissing and he knew his erection was impossible to contain in this towel very much longer.

Beau stood in the soft glow of his bedroom lamp. This wasn’t how he thought the night would go—not by a long shot. But here she was, in his bedroom, a storm of emotions swirling in her green eyes every time she glanced at him.

“Maybe you should get more comfortable.” He suggested as his hands stroked down her back to cup her luscious backside. He couldn’t help pulling her closer, pressing heragainst his erection. His pulse pounded in his head matching the synchronized rhythm below his towel.

He reached for the buttons on her blouse, taking his time allowing his knuckles to brush against the tops of her creamy, full breasts as he made his way down to the waistband of her jeans. Inch by inch, creamy flesh appeared and his erection grew harder. If that was even possible.

Soon, he had divested her of her blouse and her bra. Her breasts and toned stomach laid bare to his greedy gaze. Beau’s hands reached out to cup the weight of each breast giving his thumbs a chance to tease each nipple into tight nubs.

His touch elicited a low, seductive moan from her kiss-swollen lips and she melted into him as the sound just about unmanned him. “Now, where are those handcuffs,” she joked and he was doing everything he could to distract himself to slow down his desire enough to last past the first five minutes.

He should say something—do something to break the tension between them. The tension that had been building between them since the first day they met. But for once in his life, Beau Elliott, the man who always had a quick remark or a sharp retort, had found himself utterly speechless.

“You’re quiet,” Abbie said, her voice low and uncertain. She stepped back to look into his eyes. Her vulnerability hit him like a sucker punch. She wasn’t the fiery, headstrong woman who stormed into his office demanding answers or sparred with him at every turn. Right now, she was just Abbie. Guarded. Hesitant. Human.

Beau rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he thought he’d left behind years ago. “I didn’t know we were supposed to be talking at the moment.”

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint, almost teasing smile. “Detective Elliott, at a loss for words? I never thought I’d see the day.”

He chuckled softly, the sound more of a release of tension than anything else. “Don’t get used to it.”

Her smile faded, replaced by something softer, something that tugged at his chest. She took a step closer, her gaze never leaving his. “You’re right, Detective. I don’t want to talk tonight,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to think tonight. I just…I don’t want to feel alone.”

The vulnerability in her words gutted him. Beau didn’t do emotions—not like this. He kept things simple, straightforward. Feelings complicated things, made people weak. But Abbie wasn’t weak. She was strong, and yet here she was, letting him see a crack in her armor.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek, and the simple touch sent a jolt of electricity up his arm. She didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned closer, the distance between them shrinking until he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin.

“Abbie,” he said, his voice rough with something he didn’t want to name. “We don’t have to do anything. We can just be together. Hold each other if that’s what you need.”

Her eyes locked onto his. “Beau, I want this. I want you.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and filled with a kind of need he was afraid was driving her actions. Maybe he should take the high road and push her away. Maybe he should remind her of all the reasons this was a bad idea—that they were leaving Jessup Peak, each going back to their own world. But maybe that was the very reason why this should happen. Because neither of them had to worry about it ever happening again.

He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones as he searched her eyes for any hesitation. All he found was heat and vulnerability, a dangerous combination.

“Abbie,” he murmured, leaning in until their foreheads touched. “What if I told you this isn’t just a one-night thing for me.”

Her breath hitched, and he felt her hands come to rest on his chest, her fingers splaying over his heart. “It’s all I can give,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I don’t know how to do more.”

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