Page 46 of Long Past Dawn
Twelve
I handed Beau a glass of whiskey that he tossed back in the time it took me to sit next to him on the couch. We had come home and showered, then decided a nightcap was what the doctor ordered.
“I’m proud of you,” I finally said, the silence pervasive in the room.
“For not crying?” he asked, setting his glass down on the end table. “I almost did when Ash told me I’d always be his son.”
I chuckled and finished my drink, too. “No, and no one would have cared if you had. I was referring to being able to share your feelings without fear of ridicule. For making two people extremely happy when on tonight of all nights, you would have been within your rights to be concerned only about yourself.”
Beau took my hand and tapped it on his knee. “It was truly selfish, Dawn. I was concerned only about myself. Maybe, in the end, I made them happy, but that wasn’t the angle I was approaching it from.”
I tipped my head back and forth a couple of times as if weighing what he said. “You can think that if you want to, but selfish would have been tying one on and not caring about anyone else. Instead, you spent the entire evening engaged with them, encouraged their new dreams, and brought the family closer together. Sure, you benefited, too, but in the end, you were righting a wrong. At least something you saw as a wrong in your life. For that, and for helping the family with their daughter’s saddle, I’m proud of you.”
He got up and refilled his glass without saying another word. He drank that down and then wandered into the kitchen, coming back with a cream puff. He sat next to me and took a bite of it, holding it out for me to take a bite, too.
“Is that all you feel?” he asked while my mouth was full.
I swallowed and raised a brow, taking a scoop of the cream with my finger and licking it off. Beau groaned and did the same, holding his finger out for me to lick. I pulled his finger into my lips and suckled on it, watching as the front of his Wranglers tightened significantly.
“I feel like we should take this to the bedroom,” I said, pulling him up and walking down the hallway, hoping he was following. He wasn’t behind me when I made it to my room, so I called out to him. “Are you coming?”
“Hopefully, very soon,” he called. When he paused in the doorway of the bedroom, he had the extra bowl of cream I had saved from the puffs.
I lifted a brow when he set it down on the bed. “I was kidding about the extra cream.”
Beau’s head shook as he eyed me like I was good enough to eat. “I wasn’t. I’m a little upset I let you shower. Now I can’t rip that blouse off you and cover you in cream.”
“It should be a crime,” I agreed, standing before him in a flannel shirt and leggings.
“So should this,” he said, then ripped the shirt open, the buttons scattering across the floor to reveal my already hardened nipples. “Oops, I think I owe you a shirt.” He pushed me down onto the bed and ripped my leggings off until I was completely naked before him.
“I know you owe me a shirt,” I moaned as his eyes took an extended tour of my offerings while he stripped off his t-shirt and Wranglers.
He tapped his chin as he took in my now naked form. “Hmmm, where to start.” The bowl was in his hand now, and he scooped cream out while my eyes widened. “I know the perfect place.”
Beau swiped his full palm across each breast, leaving a trail of the white cream across both nipples, and then took another scoop, trailing it down my belly. He paused as though he was admiring his art before he let his hand roam up each thigh. Beau’s eyes twinkled the moment before his fingers trailed the sticky cream around my center to cover it completely. Then his tongue came out to wet his lips before he dove in, licking, sucking, and teasing each breast until they were clean. I was already moaning uncontrollably before his tongue moved down my belly, taking extra time to dip into my navel to taste and tease.
I moaned loudly when his wet tongue traced my thighs upward, and his hands pushed them apart so he could bury his nose inside me. He licked, stroked, teased, and suckled until I couldn’t take anymore and came apart in his arms, moaning his name with my hips thrust hard against his tongue.
Beau laughed naughtily, and when I could breathe again, I noticed he was in bad shape. I lifted one brow, scooped out a fingerful of cream, and looked it over. “What’s the saying? Less is more?” I asked before I painted his hardness with the white goodness. I suckled the sweetness off my finger, dragging a groan from his lips, his hips thrusting upward, knowing he was next. I took my time with my tongue, returning the torture he’d bestowed upon me, but backed off before he could come too early.
I lay back and beckoned him toward me with my finger. His lips attacked mine while he pushed my legs open with his knee. He was done waiting, and I loved that side of him. When he was done playing, he rode me hard and brought me to life every time. He entered me with a hard thrust, and my pelvis rose to meet his, both of us hungry for the release we so desperately needed. He buried his face in my neck and cussed long and low against my collarbone, the word husky and beautiful even in its vulgarity.
“I need you all the time, Dawn. I don’t understand this,” he cried, his hips picking up speed as I pushed back, giving him everything he needed and nothing he didn’t. “I want to come inside you forever,” he cried, his hips stilling when he’d buried himself inside me so deeply that I didn’t know where he ended and I began. “Are you ready?”
The only answer I gave him was a squeak as the first wave broke over me. I shuddered, calling his name into the empty night. He fell then, all of him, his breathing ragged against my neck, and his body spasming with such force it ripped a cry from his lips as he neared completion. By the time we collapsed against each other, sated and sticky, we had burned ourselves out with want and need, leaving only raw emotions that I was too afraid to verbalize.
Beau braced his forearms on each side of my head and leaned down for a kiss. “Earlier today, I said, I think I love you. Did you hear me?” he asked. I nodded my head slowly, afraid to speak and make him stop. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
I swallowed and shrugged my shoulder against the bed. “Never jump on or hold anyone to anything they say during orgasm. That’s the first rule of sex, right?”
“Maybe, but I saw your tears right after that. I was a coward. I should have asked why, but I was afraid of the answer.”
“Afraid of the answer? To what question?”
“Were you crying because I thought I loved you or because I only half committed to it?”
“Neither. I wasn’t even crying.”
