Read Burn For You (Boys of the South) Online

Authors: Marquita Valentine

Tags: #new adult, #contemporary romance

Burn For You (Boys of the South) (22 page)

BOOK: Burn For You (Boys of the South)
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Playboy. Different girl every night. You’re just something shiny. He’s too fucked up for a sweet girl like you.

Then Beau’s voice is replacing those bad thoughts: “
I expect you to be waiting for me, in my bed, without this on.”

Why in the world would he want me in his bed, if I wasn’t what he wanted? “It doesn’t make sense.”

Beau’s nothing like that. He is not that guy. I refuse to give in to my insecurities.  I’ll believe in him, in the best about him.

He hadn’t looked guilty at all, just anxious and then concerned.
For me
.

While she... she’d looked at me like a scientist, like she was trying to figure out who and what I was exactly. Wouldn’t most women have said something or made a snide remark? That’s what always happens on Lifetime—right?

Standing, I wipe my eyes and then head to the bathroom to blow my nose and clean up my makeup. I’m not going to jump to conclusions. I’m going to talk to Beau, like an adult, and find out what’s going on.

––––––––

B
eau

Yvette the ballbuster is not happy with me at all, but I don’t give a shit.

“You will bring her and the baby, yes?” Yvette asks.

“I don’t see what Landry and Mia have to do with racing,” I point out for what seems like the hundredth time. “I value their privacy above everything. It’s bad enough that people try to snap pictures of us at the house, but I’ll be damned if I trot them out like a horse and pony show.”

Yvette’s frown grows. She leans closer. “Mr. Romanov feels it would be in your best interest to have a controlled meet and greet with the press.”

What she means is that Mr. Romanov will find another driver if I don’t. I knew this going in, and I’d warned Landry about it, but now that I am here and Landry and I are... together—I don’t want the intrusion. I like knowing she and Mia are waiting on me, giving me a soft place to land when I come home, exhausted as hell.

A tick starts up in my jaw. “One meet and greet. That’s it.”

“Three.”

“No.”

Out of the corner of my eye, a gorgeous woman in dark red headed my way catches my attention. Strange since I’ve gone out of my way to not let any of them catch any more than that. Turning slightly, I get a better view of the woman’s face.

“Landry?” I rise to my feet, my thoughts and fears immediately going to my daughter. “Is something wrong with Mia?”

Landry’s mouth trembles, her pretty eyes widen a little and become shiny. “No.”

“Then what are you doing here?” I ask, and she flinches. The woman I love fucking flinches from me, like I’ve physically hurt her. Of all the things I can ask her in that moment, that’s what chooses to leave my mouth?

“Sorry to have bothered y’all,” she says softly. “I made a mistake coming here.”

The look on Landry’s face will haunt me for the rest of my life, and there’s nothing I can do to make that moment unhappen. Nothing I can do to unsee it for either of us. Right now, that beautiful woman thinks I’ve betrayed her. She thinks I’ve discarded her like a one-time use tire. Like all I was doing was biding my time until something better came along.

I know all this, because I’ve felt it myself, countless times with Paisley.

Damn my Romanov Industries handler and her insistence that we talk in private about my daughter and her nanny. Where no one would be the wiser. Where the press that had been allowed to attend wouldn’t hear our conversation.

Only, all that had backfired.

Landry turns, fleeing the room. I start to go after her, but Yvette stalls me.

“We are not done. If you want the paparazzi to leave her alone, then you will stay. Go to her later.”

A few reporters who have been following me all night begin to circle the area as if they’re sharks smelling blood. I sit back down, tapping my fingers against my thigh while I wait for them to leave.

“Fine. Anything else we need to discuss?
In private
.” I’m trying to be polite, when I feel like firing her ass, and telling Romanov Industries to shove their sponsorship where the sun doesn’t shine.


Nyet
.” Yvette’s sharp gaze scans the room. “They are gone. You may leave.”

How nice of her. “Goodnight, then.” I take off, wondering what I can say or do to make Landry feel better. To make her believe me.

I don’t want to fight with her, not like I do with Paisley.  I want Landry to accept the truth of what happened here tonight and fucking love me.

Chapter Twenty-Eight
Landry

I
’m sitting
on the sofa, looking out into the bay, when there’s a knock on my door. Beau sticks his head inside my room.

“May I come in?” he asks and my heart pinches.

Unsure of my voice, I nod. He crosses the room and sits down beside me, before loosening his tie, an act I find so hot that I’m surprised I don’t melt on the spot. How screwed up is that? He could have done the worst thing possible to me and I still find him attractive.

“I fucked up tonight, didn’t I?”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” I hate how pitiful I sound in this moment.

“The woman I was sitting with is Yvette Petrov, my handler from Romanov Industries. She wanted to talk privately about a few things. Those things included less secluded time with you and Mia. I didn’t want to go to her place, because I didn’t want any speculation in the press about what I was doing there... so I thought we could go somewhere semi-private. She wants you and Mia at the rest of the practices and on race day. I didn’t know you were coming. It totally threw me off my game, and I’m sorry,” he says in one big rush, like he’s afraid that at any moment, I’ll stand up and call him a liar.

I blow out a shaky breath and smile at him through my tears. “Okay. Mia and I will go to a few of your practices, but not if it’s during her naptime.”

“Fair enough, and the rest?”

“Of course we’ll be at the race. It’s our job to cheer you on.”

He cups the side of my face, his gray eyes studying me. “That’s it?”

“I choose to believe you, Beau.”
I choose to love you
.

“How did I ever get so lucky?” he breathes. Then his lips are on mine, slow and easy. His tongue flicks out, skimming my top lip. “Pouty lips like yours should always be kissed,” he murmurs, and I let out a dreamy sigh. “Pouty lips like yours should always be ready for a kiss, but only from me.” His eyes turn molten, and his fingers tighten imperceptibly against my skin. “Only me, Landry.”

“Only you,” I agree. “Only you, Beau.”

Our mouths find the way back to each other, moving together, our tongues coming out to play, to slide and twist. He eases me down onto the sofa, coming to lie next to me on his side. My chest rises and falls as my heart slams repeatedly against it. It feels as though I’ve been running to him my entire life.

He cups the side of my face, leaning over me and pressing his lips to mine once more. “I miss your lip ring,” I say against his mouth, knowing he didn’t wear it tonight because Romanov Industries had asked him not to.

“I’ll put it back in right now if you want.”

I grab his shoulders, holding him tightly. “Don’t you dare.”

Laughing, his fingers touch my neck, skating along the length and down to my collarbone. “I want to make you come, gorgeous. Will you let me?”

“What about your bed?” I say, licking my lips.

“I’m not letting you off this sofa.” One of his hands covers my breast, and I arch into him. “Show me what you’re wearing underneath this.”

Standing, I unzip the back of my dress and let it fall to the floor. His eyes darken as my lacy bra, thigh highs, and thong are revealed. “What do you think?”

“You should always wear this when we’re in private,” he says, fingering the side of my thong and then pulling me to him on the sofa. I rise up on my knees, feeling sexy and bold.

“Now show me your pretty nipples.”

My hands tremble in excitement as I unfasten the bra’s front clasp and let it fall to the floor. Those talented fingers of his trace the upper swells of my breasts, dipping into the vee of my cleavage and leaving goose bumps in their wake. “All that gorgeous skin... show me the rest, baby doll.”

Keeping my eyes on him, I shimmy out of my thong and then begin to roll down one of the thigh highs. “Those stay.”

My hands seek his shoulders, pulling him to me, until his hard, shirt-covered chest touches my bare one. He skims the backs of his knuckles over the side of my breasts and my breath hitches.

“Beau,” I moan. My head drops back and my eyes close.

“You. Are. Beautiful,” he says, punctuating each word with a kiss. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

I do as he says. “I’m looking at you.”

“But can you see what I see?” His thumb flicks over my nipple. “Such pretty pink nipples. So tight from me touching you.”

I whimper.

He flicks my neglected nipple. “Hottest thing I’ve ever seen is to watch you respond the way you do. Lie down for me, sweetheart.”

I stretch out on the sofa and he moves over me. His hand flattens on my stomach, and I suck in a breath.

He grins, his hand travelling lower, stopping right above where I’m throbbing and wanting and needing him to touch me. My legs part, thighs going as wide as I dare. “Are you wet for me?”

“Yes,” I moan as his fingers part me, touch me, and make my hips come off the sofa.

“Very wet,” he agrees. “I bet your panties were soaked. They had to be, because you’re coating my fingers with all this honey.”

The tip of one finger teases me, slowly but surely sinking inside. My muscles clench at him and he groans, his head falling to my chest. He lifts up slightly, sucking at a particularly sensitive spot on my neck.

“Look at you,” he whispers into my ear. “All wanton and nude while you let me play with your hot little pussy.”

I spread my thighs wider and grab his wrist, sending his finger deep. “Touch me more.”

He groans. “Landry Basnight, you are a naughty girl, and I fucking love it.” He adds another finger, moving in and out of me. “Tight, so damn tight, I want to add another finger to stretch you a little bit.”

He’s so arrogant and sure of himself that I want to say something, but all I can do is tremble against him as he adds another finger.

“Clamp down on me again. I want to pretend it’s my dick you’re squeezing.”

“You don’t have to pretend.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growls. “I didn’t plan on being in this room tonight, so you’ll have to make do with my fingers.”

Make do? Is he insane? How am I making do with this sort of pleasure? He pressed the heel of his hand against my clit and curls his fingers at the same time. I let out a sort of a scream/moan, unable to help myself.

He curls his fingers again, and my back bows. Turning my head to the side, I catch sight of myself in the full length mirror propped against the wall. I want to die at what I see.

My hair spills across the pale sofa as I lay across his lap. My cheeks are flushed and my mouth parted. I’m lying nude but for a pair of black thigh highs while he’s fully clothed. I watch his fingers work inside of me, his head lower, and then I feel his hot mouth cover my hard nipple. I sink my fingers into his hair, urging him to suck harder, to go deeper and—and a third fingers teases my bottom, only the tip sliding in.

My body shakes, trembles, and finally breaks apart. I cry out his name, over and over while his fingers sink inside of me harder and faster. I can’t stop coming, and he won’t stop touching me.

I don’t want him to stop touching me. “Please,” I beg. “I want you inside of me.”

He shakes his head, face tight. “Not tonight.”

“Please. I’ll do any—”

“Don’t say it, baby. This is my punishment and my greatest pleasure.” He kisses me softly, his fingers leaving my body. He sits up, the bridge of his nose flushed, and his erection straining against the fly of his pants as he stands. “Now, let’s get you to bed.”

“Your room or mine?” I ask weakly.

“Ours.” Sweeping me up in his arms, I feel so boneless that I can barely move. He walks across the hall and opens the door without letting go of me.

“But this is your room.”

“Not anymore.”

He lays me down in his bed and kisses me, achingly sweet. I moan a little and run my fingers through his hair, wanting him closer. He turns his head away.

“Landry, no. I mean it, I put you through hell tonight, and I don’t deserve any relief for it.”

Yeah, every bit of gossip is right about him. Damn every last one of them for making his life miserable. “Fine,” I pout, and he nips on my lower lip.

“Thank you,” he says, his eyes are tender and yet oh-so-possessive as they roam over my nude body while he undresses.

“For what?”

“For believing in me.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine
Beau

L
andry and
I stayed up most of the night talking as our hands found one another and wouldn’t let go. I’m never letting go of her.

She sleeps on her stomach beside me, and I trace each vertebra of her spine with the tip of one finger. Her skin is delicate and smooth, cool to the touch from where it’s been exposed to the night air.

Mia babbles, the baby monitor lighting up with all her talking and moving around. She’s not fussing, so I’ll stay in bed a while longer and keep touching my woman.

Unable to help myself, I kiss Landry’s shoulder, her neck, and then her cheek. Smiling, she stirs.

“What time is it?”

I grin. She always asks the same question when she wakes up. “Not time for you to get up.”

“But I hear Mia and—”

“I kept you up late last night, and my morning kisses weren’t supposed to wake you up.”

Rolling onto her back, she brings the sheets with her and smiles. “Mmm. Late night talks and morning kisses.”

“Dessert in bed?” I ask, tracing the curve of her ear with my tongue. I know what to say next, because I remember what she said to me. I want to give her the love she craves, the perfect-for-her kind of love that seems so easy for her to express.

Her phone rings, and she freezes. “That’s Paisley.”

BOOK: Burn For You (Boys of the South)
3.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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