by Gemma Weir
“No,” I tell him truthfully. “But I think you’re real mad right now, and your brothers proved the other day that they won’t step in to help if you get out of hand.”
“After the new assholes you ripped them all yesterday, I’m pretty sure that they’d kick me out and have you move in so they can worship at your feet right now. But if you actually think you’re in any danger, that I’d hurt you, or make you do something you don’t want to…” he trails off as if the idea is physically painful to him. “Well, if you honestly feel that way, I’ll take you home right now.”
Unable to hold eye contact with his piercingly intense gaze I look away and shake my head. “I know you wouldn’t do anything like that to me, you’re just really big and really angry and I don’t really know you,” I confess with a shrug.
Soft fingers caress my cheek and I cautiously lift my eyes to find a much less scary Beau looking down at me. “Then give us the chance to get to know each other. Stop running from me and spend time with me instead.”
His fingers pull me to him, and soft, full lips find mine. This kiss is so different from the others, it’s not possessive or claiming, it’s soft and sweet and cajoling. It’s an enticement and an entreaty all in one and I’m helpless to resist. No one could resist a kiss like this.
“Come on baby girl,” he coos, taking my hand gently in his and towing me to the door.
I allow him to lead me, still slightly dazed and thoroughly enamored with this odd, sweet mountain man. Warmth hits me the moment we cross the threshold into the house and the sounds of people surround us.
“Hey Bonnie,” Teddy calls from the couch, smiling at me when I turn in his direction.
“Hi Teddy,” I call back.
“Ted, if she asks you to, I want you take Bonnie home, regardless of what I want. Okay?” Beau tells his brother.
“Sure thing. Bonnie you just holler if you need me, okay?” Teddy says, his expression becoming more serious.
“Thank you,” I say quietly, some of the tension melting from my shoulders now I have an escape plan if I need it. Beau leads me to his bedroom and I let him, very aware in this moment of the huge size difference between us. Beau really does look like a giant, with his huge palm wrapped around my fingers, his body so much bigger than mine that I have to tip my head back to see his face.
A tremor of fear creeps through me. I don’t think he’d physically hurt me, but his size intimidates me. Living on a ranch I’m usually surrounded by big guys, but Beau makes them all seem like dwarfs with how broad his shoulders and back are.
Pushing open his bedroom door, he steps inside, holding the door open and towing me into the room before he closes the door behind us. This time I take a moment to look around, taking in the warm sage green walls and worn wooden floors. His bed dominates the space, huge and made of scrapped logs, curving and meandering as they did when they were trees growing in the forest.
The bed is high, so high that I don’t think I could get onto the mattress without a step. His bedding is simple, a soft gray, with darker pillows, and a sage green quilt folded and laid across the bottom.
Scanning my gaze around the room, I spot a bathroom through a partially open door, and a closet through another. A gray rug covers half the floor and there’s a small gray love seat under the window. Matching bedside cabinets and a dresser are pretty much the only other furniture. The room is sparse, but somehow epitomizes Beau perfectly.
“What the fuck were you playing at, going out with that guy tonight?” Beau growls, startling me and pulling me from my perusal of his space.
“I was thinking that Dan was cute,” I reply bluntly.
“You don’t get to date other people, I don’t share,” Beau says, not quite shouting, but his tone is lethal and cold.
“And does that mean you don’t get to date other people too? Or is this fictional thing you’ve imagined between us all one sided?” I barb, crossing my arms across my chest defensively.
“The only woman I have any interest in is you,” Beau answers immediately.
I wasn’t expecting him to say that. For some reason I assumed he’d blow me off, be vague and non-committal. That he’d be a typical guy and want to keep me on a leash, but still be able to do as he pleased.
Closing the distance between us in a single stride, he curls his arm around my back and yanks me to him, my chest slamming against his a second before he kisses me. My head starts to spin, and my body feels weightless as his mouth takes mine in a kiss that’s so freaking amazing, I feel like I’m floating.
His free hand tangles in my hair, gripping it tightly at my nape and pulling. He moves me into the position he wants me in, then pushes his tongue into my mouth almost aggressively. The bite of pain mingles with the sensation of flying, and it’s like fireworks go off behind my eyes. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m not orgasming, it’s more cerebral than physical. It’s like he flipped a switch and made my fantasy into a real-life waking dream.
I’ve imagined him kissing me like this before, but my mind’s creations pale in comparison with the real thing. His chest is solid beneath me, his beard tickly against my cheeks. He’s so tall that he has to lean right over to touch his lips to mine, my head bent back, his firm grip supporting the base of my spine when he maneuvers me into the position he wants.
My fingers are gripping the fabric of his shirt and I’m holding on tight while he devours me, ruins me, owns me.
He’s owning me with a simple kiss, and all while we’re both fully dressed.
“Mine,” he rasps when he tears his lips from mine.
I don’t know what to say, he’s literally rendered me speechless. He doesn’t let me go, but he straightens, allowing me a little breathing space.
“I want you, baby girl, in my bed, in my life. I want you and I know you want me too. I can see it when you look at me, I can taste it on your lips when you kiss me back like I’m your man, and I can smell it on your sweet, wet pussy when you’re turned on. We’re inevitable, Bonnie, we have been since the first time I drove past you, all alone and unprotected in the shop. I claimed you that day and you’ve been mine ever since.”
“I…” I trail off, unsure what I want to say. Yesterday I was confused by him, then furious at him. Today he steamrollered my date, dragged me from a restaurant, and then kissed me like I was his entire reason for being.
“Dinner. Let’s eat, then talk,” he says, releasing me for a moment as he grabs his cell and taps at the screen, before sliding it back into his pocket. “Food should be here in thirty minutes.”
I nod, because I have no idea what else to do. The urge to flee has gone, but I’m not sure if that’s because I want to be here, or just because my legs are weak from his kisses and I’m pretty sure I’ll fall over if I try to run.
His smile is blinding, and he lifts me up and kisses me quickly. “You want to watch a movie?”
“Err, sure.”
Lifting me off the ground, he spins and places me on his huge, ten-foot-high bed. “Your bed is enormous,” I say, immediately regretting making any comment about the size of anything when I’m this close to him.
“I’m six-foot five, I don’t fit in normal size beds, so I bought some logs back from work and Granger built this one for me. He built the cabinets and dresser too.”
“It’s beautiful, it makes my full seem like a twin.”
“This is a California king, but I wouldn’t mind squeezing into a full with you,” he says with a chuckle. Climbing onto the bed he pulls me to him, not allowing any distance between us like we’ve done this a thousand times before.
“You don’t have a tv,” I say stiffly, my body tense, even though it felt like my bones had melted into his when we were kissing just a few minutes ago.
Grabbing a remote I hadn’t noticed before; he presses a button, and a screen starts to lower from the ceiling. The lights dim and the Netflix menu screen flashes in vivid color in front of us.
“This is a roll o
ut screen and an ultra 4k projector, the picture quality is amazing,” he says, his fingers rubbing a gentle path along the side of my breast. “What movie did you want to watch?”
“Pride and Prejudice,” I say, holding in a chuckle, waiting for him to recoil in horror, but instead he just searches for the show and presses play. While the very familiar title credits start to roll, I glance up at him and find him staring back at me, his eyes heated while his tongue passes over his full bottom lip, wetting it.
Thirty minutes later there’s a bang on the door, and Beau pulls his arm from beneath me and climbs off the bed. Pulling open the door, he speaks quietly to who I’m assuming is one of his brothers, then reaches out and takes a white takeout bag from whoever is out there. Closing the door behind him he turns back to me. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got us a little of everything. Yung Chow Pork, chicken alfredo, Taco’s, Burgers, and some chocolate brownies.”
“What no pizza?” I ask.
“I can order pizza if that’s what you want.”
“No,” I cry, “I’m just teasing. That all sounds great.”
“You sure?” he asks.
“Absolutely sure. I’m just gonna use the bathroom first,” I say, shuffling towards the edge of the bed. “Jesus, I’m like six foot off the floor,” I mutter.
His huge hands wrap around my waist and he lifts me off the bed like I’m weightless, placing my feet on the floor. “It’s just through there,” he says, gesturing in the direction of the half open door, I spotted earlier.
“Thanks,” I mumble, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. The bathroom is small, with a shower stall, toilet, sink, and not much else. But it’s immaculately clean, with all of his things neatly organized and spicy scented soap in the dispenser.
After peeing, I wash my hands and take a quick second to freak out. I’m in Beau Barnett’s bedroom. Beau Barnett’s bedroom. This is all my teenage fantasies come to life, only rather than spoiling the illusion like he has been doing up until now, his kisses are so far above what I imagined that I feel childish for not considering how powerful his touch could be.
Pushing the door open, I step back out into his room and find him laying out food boxes across his bed. Watching him place the selection of meals onto the comforter, I barely suppress a giggle. “Are we inviting all your brothers to join us?” I ask.
“Hell no,” he growls, reaching for me and reeling me into his arms. I go willingly, lost in my fantasy again as his hand cups my jaw and his lips find mine. “Let’s eat, baby girl, before I lose interest in the food and decide to eat you instead,” he rasps against my lips.
I swallow thickly, unsure if I want to rip my clothes off and let him devour me or run for the hills. My desire for him is so potent I feel lightheaded, but it’s all fictional, all a fabrication in my own mind. Every ounce of want I feel for him is one hundred percent physical, because I don’t know him.
“Eat,” he prompts, turning me in his arms and lifting me back onto the bed again.
“You need a ladder for this bed, it’s so high,” I say, kicking off my boots before shuffling across the comforter.
“It’s not that high, you’re just tiny. You’re what? Five foot?” he laughs.
“I’m five-foot one, it’s a perfectly normal height,” I argue.
“My baby girl is a midget,” he chuckles.
Rolling my eyes, I take the bottle of beer he hands me and then eye up the food, my stomach growling appreciatively at the spread.
“Don’t stand on ceremony, dig in,” he motions.
We eat in companionable silence, both of us taking a little of each thing he ordered and filling our plates with a smorgasbord of foods from around the world. Once we’ve finished, he takes the leftovers, rubbish, and our plates and disappears from the room.
Exhaling slowly, I slide cautiously down from his ridiculous bed and slide my feet into my boots. I’ve just finishing pulling them on when the door opens and Beau walks back in, his eyes instantly moving to me.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m getting my boots on. I have work in the morning, I need to get my car.”
“I told you I’d take you to work.”
“Beau.”
I’m lifted from the floor a moment before my back hits the mattress, and the boots are ripped from my feet and thrown across the room. “No, baby girl, I haven’t even gotten started with you yet. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Beau,” I gasp as he slides me up the bed and follows me, caging me in with his huge body above me.
“I want to hear you say my name while I make you come,” he growls, as his mouth lands on mine and he parts my lips with his tongue.
His kisses distract me, while his hands start to roam my body, sliding from my waist, up along my ribs, and leaving a tingling excitement on every place he touches. I part my legs without thought and he grinds closer to me, his body barely pressing against mine, only touching in the place my body craves him most. Heat pools between my legs and I have to fight the urge to lift my hips and press myself into his dick.
I’ve imagined myself in this position a million times before, his body above mine, his dick hard for me, my sex wet and eager as he takes my virginity. This all feels like a dream, but it’s nothing like the things I imagine when I’m asleep. His hands are bigger, spanning my ribs and the underside of my breasts as he rubs a thumb over the pebbled peak of my nipple. His kisses are more desperate, making me hum and moan with pleasure, and the weight of him above me is both better and more than I could ever have expected.
His lips leave my mouth and kiss a path down my jaw to my neck, as he slides his hand underneath my sweater, pushing up the fabric until I feel the cool air hit my stomach and breasts. I see stars when he finds my nipple beneath the fabric of my bra and pinches it between his thumb and forefinger, causing a sharp tug of pain that burns to a heat, making the breath pant from my mouth in a moan of pleasure I’m not expecting.
“You like that, baby girl?” Beau asks, his voice gravelly as the heat of his mouth seals over my other nipple, sucking it hard until my body is alight with sensation. I try to speak, to tell him that I more than like it, but the only sounds I’m capable of making are moans and pants of pleasure.
“Oh yeah, be loud, baby, let me hear you,” he growls, sliding his hand down my body until he reaches the hem of my skirt and confidently pushes it out of his way. Moving his hand, he cups between my legs, grinding the heel of his hand against my clit.
“Oh god,” I gasp, my legs closing instinctively.
“Part your legs, let me in,” he snarls, and I do as he asks, eager for more. “Good girl. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good. This is my pussy now, and I’m going to take real good care of it.”
I hear the fabric of my pantyhose rip, then feel the sharp tug on my panties as he tears them in two and pulls them down my thighs freeing my feet, before he chucks them to the side and focuses all of his attention on the space between my thighs.
“Fuck, so fucking pink and wet and perfect,” he growls, sliding a finger along my sex. I jolt in shock at how amazing his touch feels as his tongue follows the path of his finger and I arch up from the bed, a strangled cry falling from my parted lips.
This feels amazing. How the hell have I gotten to twenty-one without being touched like this? The closest I’ve ever gotten is a few over the clothes gropes Billy got in on our first few dates, but we never even got past second base before my life got much more complicated than boys and dates and sex.
“Beau,” I cry, when he licks a path from my entrance all the way to my clit, circling and flicking over the bundle of nerves that has never been touched by anyone but myself. Without answering he doubles his efforts, licking and sucking and doing something that feels so freaking good I lose complete control of myself, shouting his name and bucking my hips up to his face. My orgasm sneaks up on me, coming out of nowhere and crashing over me like a tsunami. My entire body tenses and I slap my hand agai
nst his head pushing him away then dragging him back as a wave of heat consumes me, making every nerve in my body pulse with awareness.
“Oh god, Beau, oh fuck,” I scream.
Soft chuckles vibrate against my inner thigh. “Fuck, baby girl, there’s not a soul in this town who didn’t just hear you screaming my name. I want to hear it again, come for me again,” he demands, nipping at my thigh as he pushes one long finger into me.
“Ohhh,” I gasp, feeling myself stretch around the invasion.
“So fucking tight. This pussy is mine now, baby girl, no one gets to see it or touch it. Mine. I don’t share, I won’t share. Not with you. You belong to me now,” he rasps, as he fucks me with his finger and licks me until I’m screaming his name again and convulsing around him.
When he finally lifts his head, I watch in a haze as he sucks his fingers into his mouth and smiles at me. “Perfect,” he whispers.
My head falls back against the comforter as my body melts with relaxation. “Fuck,” I pant, my chest heaving up and down even as my body tries to become one with the mattress. My eyes fall closed and I’m vaguely aware of his soft chuckle and the rustling of fabric as he drags my skirt from where it’s bunched up around my waist.
“Let’s get comfy,” he whispers, pressing his lips against mine. I taste myself on his tongue, it’s not an unpleasant taste, but it feels unbelievably intimate to be kissing a man who just had his mouth on my pussy.
My eyes refuse to open when he finally pulls away from me, I’m too orgasm drunk, too sated and relaxed to move. I’ve made myself come, but it’s never felt like that, and if I was a smoker I’d have a cigarette in my mouth to go with the smile I can feel on my lips.
His weight leaves me for a moment and I know I should get up, get dressed and leave. But even opening my eyes feels insurmountable when all my body wants to do is bask in my post orgasm glow, sleep, and then maybe ask Beau to make me come again.
“Open your eyes, just for a minute, then you can go to sleep,” Beau purrs, his voice all soft and gruff.