Phase (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #1) (25 page)

He continued to work his way down my body, pushing my clothes out of the way so he could coat different parts of me with the chocolate and marshmallow mix. Each time the now cooling treat touched me, his tongue or lips followed to clean the mess.

Eventually, he dropped the treat—probably when it stopped offering any chocolate—and continued to move down my body until his tongue found my pussy. When it did, he kissed me hard and full of raw passion that made my whole body sing—the same way he kissed my mouth. By the time he added two fingers into the mix, I was already teetering on the edge.

His tongue traced my clit again, and I tumbled into oblivion. It was only when the ringing in my ears and the pounding of my heart started to die back down that I heard a fizz and a bang smash through the night. The source of the sound was obvious at once, and I couldn’t help my laughter.

“Oh, God, fireworks!” I said, dropping my head back against the cushion.

“Heh, couldn’t have timed it better if I tried.”

“Were you trying?”

“Maybe a little.” Beau winked before climbing back up beside me. He wrapped one arm around me and pointed through the trees down to the lake. “I found out what time the festivities were planned for tonight and hoped for the best. It’s not like seeing it live, but if you look really close, you can see them there.”

I snuggled into him. “This is so much better than sitting in some crowd.”

“I have to say I agree.”

The fireworks display didn’t last for long, but it was still nice to watch it from Beau’s arms.

While I watched the lights dancing in the sky, I could feel his gaze on me. The intensity of it was as frightening as it was comforting. Truth was, I could see myself by his side for much longer than we had. Twisting my head slightly, I met his eyes. When I did, the breath left my body.

Staring back at me wasn’t just the face of someone in love, it was the face of someone who couldn’t imagine another minute alone.

It was the way Dad looked at Mum, and she in return.

The passion was intense. Almost suffocating.

“D’ya hafta leave tomorrow?” he asked.

After giving it a moment’s thought, I shook my head. New York was around twelve hours away, and I needed to be at the airport midmorning on the seventh. It was doable to stay just a little longer. “I can probably stay another day.”

It would mean a hard drive to New York, with one overnight stay close to the airport, but his smile as I said I could stay made it worthwhile.

“Darlin’, I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

I guided his lips to mine. “You don’t have to
tell
me. I can see it.”

He rolled over so that he was resting on top of me as we both got lost in the kiss.

When I felt his cock digging into my hip, I laughed. “And I can feel that too.”

With one last kiss, he dragged himself away from me. “Come on, li’l miss, let’s get ya cleaned up.”

He lifted me into his arms as soon as he was standing. The movement was so fast, I couldn’t help the squeal that left me.

“Only if we can get dirty again as soon as we’re done,” I whispered against his jaw.

He touched his lips to my forehead. “That’s the plan.”

WHEN I WOKE the next morning, it was to find Beau’s arm tucked around my naked body, his nose pressed against my hair, and his cock hard and ready against my arse. I twisted in his hold so that I could get a better view of him. God, he was breathtaking. It wasn’t his looks though.

He was handsome, yes, but that wasn’t what held me captivated. There was warmth and charm that rested light and breezily on his features. His lips sat ready to curl into a lazy smile at any second. The corners of his eyes crinkled with happiness even as he slept. He might have been in his midtwenties, but he could have easily passed for younger.

I let my gaze trail his face, absorbing every inch. My fingers twitched at my side, desperate to follow the same paths. It was getting so close to the end of us, and I needed to memorise every detail so I would never forget him.

As my mind fully returned to consciousness, something grew far more pressing than paying attention to Beau—my need to pee. Taking care not to disturb him, I dragged myself out of the room and padded across the hall to the bathroom.

Returning to the bedroom to find Beau still asleep, I grabbed the flannelette shirt he’d worn to our private Fourth of July date the night before and a pair of panties. I pulled the items on as I moved through the house to the kitchen.

Once I’d wrapped the soft shirt around me, I drew the collar close to my face and inhaled the intoxicating scent. If only I could bottle that smell, I’d never forget a single second of our time together.

It struck me as I moved through the house how quiet the whole resort was. It seemed odd because Beau had mentioned they were almost fully booked. I wondered whether it was because it was still too early in the morning for most people. Or maybe the layout of the other buildings just afforded his house enough privacy that it didn’t matter whether there was one or one hundred other people vacationing.

It was peaceful and perfect.

The following morning, I’d have to put it all behind me.

Around two days after that, I would be back home. Back among my family. I was dreading it just as much as I was looking forward to it.

Not wanting to bang or crash around the kitchen to find the bowls and cup while Beau was still asleep, I headed out the back to the sunlounger we’d enjoyed the night before. I lay back in the seat, tugging Beau’s shirt down to cover my panties. Resting like that, completely relaxed, I almost fell back to sleep. The air was fresh and carried a slight chill to ease the sun that already had a bit of bite to it.

Breathing deeply, I let my eyes sink closed and stretched my hands above my head.

“Darlin’, that there’s a sight I could get used to.”

“Shit!” I cried out as the sound of Beau’s voice behind me startled me. I twisted around onto my side to look at him, the action pulling the shirt up.

“D’ya know how danged sexy you look in my shirt?”

I shook my head. “It’s not your shirt.”

He raised an eyebrow at me in question.

I rolled over onto my back again before lifting the collar to my face and breathing in once more. “It’s my shirt now.”

“That right?”

I tilted my head up to give him a teasing grin. “Yep.”

He pushed himself off the doorframe and stalked toward me. “That hardly seems fair.”

Following his path with my eyes, I shifted back to allow him room to sit in front of me. My breath grew short as he closed the gap between us. “Why’s that?”

“You don’t get to claim a piece of my clothing without givin’ me somethin’ in return.” He lifted my legs so he could sit close to me. He sat facing me with one leg off to either side. Once he settled, he reached for me with both his hands. His fingers found my hips and gripped. Before I realised what he wanted, he’d tugged my body closer to his—pussy to cock.

I lifted my legs and rested my calves against his shoulders. “I thought I’d given you plenty of memories.”

“Hmm, memories fade though.”

So would the scent of him on the shirt.

His fingertips played at the side of my hips. Then he dragged my panties down my legs, leaving me exposed to the chilly breeze. “I think I’ll keep these,” he said as he pulled them away from me.

“My underwear? Really?”

“Why not?” he challenged.

“Isn’t it a little clichéd and borderline creepy?”

He grinned at me. “You don’t reckon turnabout’s fair play?”

I slipped my legs from his shoulders down to his waist and then drew myself up with my arms so I was in his lap. “If it means that much to you, you can keep them.”

“You mean that much to me.” He stared at me with the same intensity he had the day before. “Can I keep you?”

Goddammit, how was I supposed to keep things casual?

“Beau, I—”

He touched his finger to my mouth to silence my apology. “I know.”

My lips turned down, and tears brimmed in my eyes. I could easily see me spending the next twenty-four hours alternating between crying and taking solace in his arms.

“Darlin’, let’s not mope ’round here all day.” He played with the buttons on the flannelette shirt as he spoke “What d’ya say to headin’ out for the day? I can show ya the sights.”

Attempting to stow my tears and sorrow for both our benefits, I nodded. It would be far easier to deal with our impending end by not thinking about it.

“Maybe I can show you ’round the property? I can get Mitch to put together a picnic for us.”

My heart was in my throat and I had to force my words around it. “Sure. Just give me a moment to get dressed.”

The instant the words were free, I dragged myself from his arms and then raced inside. It was almost impossible to hold myself together, but for him, I needed to. I spent a few minutes rummaging through my bag for the perfect outfit for our last day together. Not that I knew what that might be. Something demure, a little feminine maybe. Something he would be sure to remember once I’d left.

“I was thinking,” Beau said, leaning in the doorway.

“That could be dangerous,” I quipped, to cover the fact that my heart was still breaking that we were into a countdown of hours rather than days.

He grinned but then kept talking as if I’d never spoken. “Maybe we can head out onto the lake for a while when we’re done. If ya’d like?”

“Sounds great.” I couldn’t manage any more words than that.

“You should bring your bathin’ suit then.”

Standing upright to stare at him, I chuckled as my sorrow was pushed aside. “Did you really just say bathing suit? I thought you were twenty-four, not one hundred and twenty-four.”

He frowned. “What would ya prefer I say?”

“I don’t know. Togs.”

“Togs?” He lifted a brow. “Really?”

“Well, how about you call it what it is then? A bikini.”

“I am mighty fond of that word.”

“An itty-bitty bikini, in fact,” I teased.

“Let’s see it then,” he challenged.

I turned back around and dug through my bag again before pulling out the string bikini I’d brought. The top consisted of two rectangles strung between two pieces of cord. The rectangles were just large enough to cover my boobs, although when it was on, there was a certain amount of spillage out the sides and visible cleavage in the middle. If the top was tiny, the bottom was even more risqué, with just a tiny scrap of material covering the patch between my thighs and a triangle that barely covered my crack of my behind. Those flimsy pieces were held in place by some criss-crossing cord.

I held the two pieces up for Beau’s inspection.

“I meant on,” he breathed.

Without breaking eye contact, I threw the bikini on the bed and then slowly peeled off the flannelette shirt. I tossed that on top of my bag, ready to pack away when I left because I hadn’t been lying when I’d said I was keeping it—or at least, I was going to follow through now that Beau didn’t seem to mind.

While Beau’s gaze ran hungry paths over my skin, I pulled on the bottom of the bikini and adjusted all the straps to sit in the right place over my hips. Despite the appearance, it was actually quite comfortable to wear. The only drawback was the odd tan lines.

I walked over to Beau as I wrapped the top over my breasts, turning on the spot at the last possible second to get him to help me do it up. Because of the butterfly clip on the back, it was actually pretty easy to do up myself, but it was more fun to get him to help.

He grabbed the two ends of the clasp and linked them together, but he didn’t release his hold. If I stepped away from him, my top would come undone.

A breathy sigh left him as his fingertips traced over the straps.

His hands trailed around my body to tease the side of my boobs before continuing down over my stomach. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled my back to his front.

His chest flexed as he held me safe and secure in his hold.

“Whatever ya wanna call them, those are dang sexy.” His fingertips teased over my stomach, and his lips skimmed across my shoulder in tiny kisses as he spoke. Slowly, he worked his way up my throat to kiss under my ear.

“If you start that, I don’t think I’ll be leaving this room,” I warned.

“I might try that later,” he breathed against the shell of my ear as his fingertips trailed down my waist.

“What?” His light touches were dragging my concentration away from his words.

“I’m still determined to find some way to keep ya,” he murmured against my nape before planting a soft kiss there.

A shiver raced down my spine, and a soft chuckle slipped from him in response. He went to spin me, but I stepped away from his hold. Not letting myself look back at him, I pulled on the floral top I’d worn the first night we’d met and a pair of denim cut-offs. When I met his gaze after I’d finished dressing, the things I saw made me want him to keep me too.

Damn him for making it so hard.

My gaze lowered, trailing over his pyjama bottoms—which proved it was
hard
on him too.

“So, are you going to show me around, or not?” I asked when he stood staring at me.

“Oh, uh, sure, just lemme—” He pointed toward his wardrobe.

I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“And you’re gonna . . .”

“Yep.” I sat on the bed and made it clear I was going to enjoy the show.

Meeting my eye, he slowly peeled off his pyjama bottoms. I bit my lip and squirmed as he balled the pants up—each muscle on his abs, chest, and arms moving and twisting with the action. I tried to keep my eyes north of his waist so I didn’t get distracted and drag him back to bed.

He threw the bundle away and turned to grab some clothes. It was only the second time I’d seen his naked back on full display, and the first I could truly sit back and appreciate his form. I caught sight of two dimples just over his arse cheeks. The sight sent me into overdrive and I wanted to trace them with my tongue.

There was so much about him I still didn’t know. So much I still wanted to explore.

And our time was almost up.

I dropped my gaze to stare at my hands in my lap. For a moment, I wondered whether it would make it easier to leave him if there were some mystery left between us. Some things I didn’t know so not every piece of him would haunt me.

The sight of his feet in my field of vision told me he was ready, but he didn’t speak to confirm it. When I lifted my gaze to find his, I expected a thousand questions on his tongue for my fallen mood, but his eyes contained the same sorrow.

With a slow smile, he offered me his hand.

Our first stop was the restaurant, where Beau led me around to the back door into the commercial kitchen. One of the guys with hipster beards, who had been at the bar with Beau the first night I met him, was standing over a griddle top that contained an impressive quantity of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and an assortment of other breakfast foods. To one side, a deep fryer hissed as it cooked whatever was inside.

“Mitch, Dawson, Dawson, Mitch,” Beau said almost casually, waving his hand between us as he made his hurried introductions. It didn’t escape my focus that he’d given the fake name I’d used. For a moment, I wondered why, but then it struck me. He was trying to give me what I wanted—the piece of me separate from the rest of my life. It told me that he understood why I’d lied to him initially. That he knew about the pressure of always being “on” and wanted to save me from that. That one simple action proved that he was readily willing to offer me the one thing I’d never been able to find before in my real life—the ability to just be me. The more people who knew my name, the harder it would be to hide from who I was at home.