Phase (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #1) (24 page)

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised as he pulled away. When he reached the door, he glanced back at me and smiled

After he’d left, I had a shower and changed into something comfortable. Then I returned to the couch in the living room and read for a while. When almost an hour had passed and Beau still wasn’t back, I turned on my phone and rang home.

I WAS MIDCONVERSATION with Dad when I heard footsteps outside. The last thing I wanted was to be caught on the phone if Beau came in calling out a joking, “Honey, I’m home,” or something to that effect.

“I’ve gotta go,” I said, cutting Dad off midsentence. “Room service just arrived. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, sweetie.” Dad seemed a little put off, but didn’t make too big a deal of it. Maybe because he knew I would be home in just a few short days.
Too short
. “I love you.”

My gaze met Beau’s, and I chewed on my lip as I debated whether to respond the way I usually would. Normally, I’d fire off an I love you without hesitation, but between Beau’s family situation and being a grown-arse woman, it didn’t seem right, so I turned away from Beau and settled on, “Yeah, me too. I’m counting down the days ’til I get home.”

I swung around again to find Beau standing in front of me with a bemused expression on his face. “Room service?”

“Sorry, I panicked. I didn’t know what else to say.”

His mouth mashed into a hard line as he assessed me. “Who were ya on the phone to?”

“That was, uh, Dad. And he’d freak if I told him I’m in the house of a hot cowboy I’ve known for a few weeks and we’re likely going to stay up most of the night screwing each other’s brains out.”

Beau burst out laughing. “Whenever I think I’ve grown accustomed to your frankness, ya always say somethin’ to surprise me.”

“It’s all about the shock and awe,” I admitted as I swallowed my anxiety. “That way you don’t see that I am so far out of my depth it’s not funny.”

“That makes two of us, darlin’.” He moved toward me and kissed the top of my head.

It was ridiculous how off balance he was able to set me with the tiniest touches.

“Ya hungry?” He placed the box of goodies he’d brought back down onto the kitchen bench, lifting out a few items and tossing them into the fridge before turning around to lean against the cupboards. As he did, his hips thrust forward, and his gaze settled over me. The jeans he’d had on had worked their way lower down his hips, showing off his perfect
V
in a sliver of skin between his under-tee and the faded denim.

“Famished,” I murmured as I fought to gain the courage I needed to do what I wanted.

Something in my voice must have tipped him off to the fact that I wasn’t talking about food, or maybe my intentions were printed across my face in a bold typeface. His hips pushed forward a little more, and he held his arms out for me. I stepped forward as if I were going to accept his invitation, but when I was within striking distance, I reached for the buckle of his belt instead. The instant it was in my hands, I started unthreading the leather.

“Darlin’?” he questioned.

My response was to step into the gap between us and bring my lips to his throat while I continued to fight his belt. His hands moved to caress my hair, but I guided them back to his sides. Taking his cues from me, he clutched the wooden counter.

When I’d released the belt, I made short work of his jeans, pushing them down to his knees together with his boxer briefs. With my breath speeding and my heart stuttering, I stepped away and glanced at the image of him clinging to the bench with his hard-on pointing straight at me. Not letting myself second-guess what I was going to do, I fell to my knees and drew the silken skin of his erection into my mouth.

As I began to move my mouth back and forth over his length, a series of noises escaped from Beau, not quite words but more than noiseless grunts. I had no idea what I was doing really, but he seemed to be enjoying it anyway.

After a while, I grew more daring, running the tip of his cock over my tongue before drawing in his length again. One of his hands released the hold it had on the counter and found its way into my hair. His hips moved in time with my actions, sending his cock deeper into my mouth. A few times, the motion triggered my gag reflex, but Beau just pulled away and waited for me to make a move. Each time, I took him back into my mouth and hummed.

He gave a garbled cry that almost sounded like his watered down version of a cuss word. When he did, I glanced up at him to make sure I wasn’t doing something wrong. Our eyes locked and his burned with need and passion. It spurred me on, drawing him in until I could feel him against the back of my throat.

The fourth time I sucked him in that deeply, he issued a “Sweet Jesus,” and tried to pull away. I realised why a second later when a gush of warm liquid spilled down my throat. All through high school people had joked about girls who spit versus those who swallowed. Part of me had always wondered which I’d choose in the moment, but right then, I didn’t have a choice.

His knees buckled and both of his hands moved back to the counter to steady himself as his cock continued to pulse in my mouth.

When he’d finished, I sat back on my heels, watching as Beau became a puddle of goo. It was a powerful feeling to know that I’d been the one who’d done that to him. After a moment, I moved back up his body, pulling his clothing back into place.

“You were right,” I murmured as I slid the zipper on his jeans up.

“Huh?” he asked, his breath still little more than desperate panting and with a small, dreamy smile plastered on his lips.

I did up the top button on his jeans. “It’s not as much fun this way.”

He chuckled and reached for me, pulling me against his chest. “That was, wow. And I’ll be sure to pay ya back the kindness, right when my brain comes back online.”

I joined his laughter and wrapped my arms around him, leaning so that my weight held him in place against the counter. He rested his cheek against the top of my hair.

“Ya know, you’ve given me so many images I never dreamed of, but that I know will be locked away up here for all of mah days,” he said after a moment.

“Was that one of them?”

“Oh, darlin’, your stunnin’ eyes looking up at me like that is definitely one of ’em.”

“What are some others?” I asked as curiosity burned in me.

“The first night we met, seeing the anger on your face when I ran into ya.”

I laughed. “You almost made me spill my drink.”

“You on your bike,” he continued. “The feel of ya beneath my hands as ya raced through the hills. Man, you know how to handle the curves.” His hands traced over my waist as he said the words.

“You’re not so bad with the curves yourself,” I murmured. His soft ministrations were flaming the fires of need that were already racing through my body.

His hand moved to caress my cheek and he guided my lips to his. If he cared about the fact I tasted like him, he didn’t say anything. His tongue probed, tangling with my own in a dance that did nothing to lessen my desire.

In a fast motion, he swung me around and lifted me up so my arse was on the wooden counter. Then he filled the space between my legs with his body. His other hand moved to my other cheek as his kiss grew hungrier.

When he pulled away, he looked disappointed rather than turned on.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes as he murmured, “How am I gonna let ya go?”

I moved my hands to his cheeks, holding him in place. Hadn’t I asked myself the same question often enough?

“Can’t I just keep ya?” he asked, opening his eyes and looking at me through his lashes. His expression was so innocent, so desperate, that I wanted to say yes. I wanted him to sweep me off my feet and leave my old life behind.

Except I couldn’t. My family meant too much to me, including the extended ones linked by bonds of friendship forged in the fires Dad had endured when I was younger. For every smile Beau had claimed from me, my family owned a thousand. As much as I would miss Beau when I left, he wasn’t ingrained in every part of my life, my very being, the way they were.

I flinched away from his words.

“Sorry, darlin’, I know that ain’t a fair request.” He pulled away and gave me a small smile that echoed the sorrow in his words. “Not after I promised no expectations.”

“I can’t, Beau. I wish I could, but I can’t survive without my family.” As soon as I said the words, I realised how insensitive they were. Especially considering where we were. “Oh, God, I’m yapping on about family here of all places. I’m such an arsehole. I’m sorry.”

His fingers traced my cheek before dropping under my chin to lift my eyes back to his. “Don’t go apologizin’ for being you.”

“Why don’t we put the groceries away and head to your bedroom?” I wrapped my legs around his waist.

“Anyone’d think you’re eager for more.”

“What can I say, I’m an eager beaver, or at least I’ve got one.”

With a chuckle, he lifted me off the bench and carried me out of the kitchen.

“What about the groceries?” I asked as we reached the hallway.

“They’ll keep.”

Once we were inside his room, he dropped me on the bed a little unceremoniously. I would have been upset, except he covered my body with his own before I even had a chance to take a breath. His lips were on mine a moment later.

We spent some time wrapped around one another. Then when evening was well and truly on us, Beau set a fire in a small firepit in the fenced-in backyard of his house, so we were away from any guests. He threw together some of the stuff he’d grabbed from the restaurant’s kitchen, cobbling together a meal we could cook over the embers. It started with toasted cheese sandwiches and moved on to chicken tacos.

When we’d finished eating, we curled up together under a blanket on a sunlounger in front of the fire. The crackle of the flames, the smoke lingering in the air, and Beau’s body underneath my head had me completely relaxed.

“Are ya ready for dessert?” he asked.

I placed my hand on his chest. “You ready again already, cowboy?”

He leaned over, touching his lips to mine. My lips met his readily, and my tongue pressed forward to tangle with his. He groaned before pulling away and holding up a packet of marshmallows.

“Always ready for more, darlin’, but I meant actual dessert. Some good ol’-fashioned American s’mores. Have ya had ’em afore?”

I shook my head as I sat up so that he had the room. He grabbed a packet of some type of wheat biscuit and placed one on my palm before laying some chocolate over the top. When he lifted his hand away, he frowned at the chocolate left behind on his fingers.

Grabbing his hand, I drew his fingers into my mouth and licked the chocolate off. “Did you leave it a little too close to the fire there, cowboy?” I teased as I let him go.

Despite the heat in his gaze raging hotter than the fire nearby when he’d watched me clean his fingers, he kept moving and roasted one of the marshmallows until it was golden brown. Then he placed it onto one of the crackers before sandwiching another on top.

“
Voilá
,” he said with a grin.

Taking my time to ensure I didn’t burn myself, I took a bite. His gaze never left my mouth as I hummed with appreciation. “Different. Not bad.”

“Not bad? Darlin’, they’re from heaven.” He turned to prepare one for himself.

I took another bite. “I could definitely see them being a little addictive.”

When he turned back to me, his gaze fell to my mouth again and he smirked. “You’ve got a bit of chocolate,” he said. “Right—” His lips grazed mine, and his tongue darted out to trace a spot on my lower lip.

I whimpered at the taste of his kiss mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate and warm marshmallow.

“—there,” he finished as he pulled away. His tongue traced his bottom lip. “Hmm, they taste even better that way.”

“Really?” I traced the s’more over a small section of my bottom lip, dragging the melted chocolate across my skin as I did. He leaned over me, and his tongue was on the spot a moment later before he sucked my lip into his mouth. Another whimper escaped me as he gently trailed his teeth over my skin.

“Definitely,” he said, meeting my gaze. In the depths of his eyes was a burning hunger that had nothing to do with the chocolate. “Hmm, maybe a different dessert is on the menu after all.” He shifted us around so I was lying beneath him on the sunlounger. Then he grabbed the s’more off me and trailed it over my collarbone, following the path with his lips straight away.