by Gemma Weir
“Let me do you,” she says, turning around until we’re chest to chest.
“You have no idea how much I want your hands on me. But if you touch me right now, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from fucking you and I can’t, so next time, next time you can touch as much as you want, but for today I just can’t,” I rasp, grabbing the shower gel and washing as quickly as I can, while the devious little witch smirks at me, her eyes watching my hands move over my arms, my chest, my dick.
Once I’m done, I turn off the shower and quickly wrap a towel around my waist, then hold out one for her. She goes to take it from me, but I wrap it around her, then pull her into my arms and kiss her. “This is how I want every morning to start,” I tell her, reluctantly pulling away from her mesmerizing lips when the alarm on my cell phone starts to chime. “Come on, baby girl, we need to get ready for work.”
Sighing, she tucks the towel around her more securely, then takes the one I offer her for her hair, twisting it up into a pile on the top of her head. She follows me when I pad back into the bedroom, using the towel to dry her wet skin as I head for my dresser.
Drying myself, I pull a pair of black boxers from the drawer and pull them on, tucking my semi hard dick inside and willing it to calm the fuck down. I grab some socks, pants, and a thermal top and throw them to the bed, then open the drawer I put all her underwear in. “What panties do you want? Cotton or lace?”
“You know it’s weird you rooting through my underwear, I can get it myself,” she says, looking at me like I’ve actually gone crazy.
“Cotton or lace?” I ask, holding up a pair in each hand.
“Cotton,” she says, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
“Which bra?” I ask.
“The white one,” she answers, not bothering to argue.
Closing the drawer, I start towards her and she holds up her hand, a stern expression on her face. “If you try and help me put those on, I’m going home. I’m serious.”
“I’d hunt your ass down and drag you back here over my shoulder,” I smirk.
“You’re a barbarian.”
“When it comes to you I am.”
Snatching her underwear from my hands she drops her towel and quickly pulls them on, looking unsure before she opens my closet door and peers inside. “Jesus, Beau, did you even look what clothes you grabbed before you shoved them in the case? You bought me two work shirts and the tiniest pair of shorts in my closet. Any chance you picked up any pantyhose when you ravaged my underwear drawer?”
Fastening my pants, I open the drawer again and pull out a pair of black pantyhose, holding them out for her to see.
“Thank god,” she says, taking them from me and sitting down on the loveseat to pull them on.
Pulling my thermal over my head, I take a sweater from the closet and turn back to find her doing up the shortest pair of booty shorts I’ve ever seen in my life. “What the fuck are they?” I snarl.
“These are the only bottoms you packed me,” she hisses.
“You can’t wear them. Hell fucking no.”
“It’s these or panties, because this is all you packed when you decided to shove random stuff from my closet in a bag,” she says through gritted teeth.
“There is no fucking way I’m letting anyone but me see you in those shorts, you can almost see your pussy they’re so small,” I shout.
“You cannot see my pussy and I don’t have a choice. This is all I have and I have to be at work in thirty minutes.”
“It’s not happening, baby girl, change,” I order.
“Into what exactly?” she demands, turning to glare at me, her arms crossed across her chest.
“What about those leggings you wore last night?”
“You can see straight through them in the daylight, I only wear them around the house where no one can see me.”
Shaking my head, I look her up and down again. “Bonnie if anyone sees you like that, I’ll lose my fucking mind. I’ll kill someone when I cut down the wrong fucking tree because I’m so distracted thinking about assholes staring at your ass all day. Call in sick, I don’t normally work on a Sunday anyway, we can take the day off and spend it naked in bed,” I coax.
“I can’t call in sick. I’m not sick, plus who would open the shop? I doubt Owen would even answer his cell if I called him this early on a Sunday morning. They’re not so bad,” she says, tying a knot in the back of her shirt to stop it from covering her ass and making her look like she’s not wearing anything at all.
“Turn around,” I demand.
“What? Why?”
“I want to see how bad it is.”
Shaking her head, she turns around and looks back at me over her shoulder. The shorts are fucking tiny, so small I can see the curve of her ass cheeks.
“Hell no. Get your shoes on, I’m taking you home so you can change, we’ll eat at the shop again,” I growl, snatching one of my hoodies from the closet and pulling it over her head. The fabric swamps her, the arms dangling several inches past her fingers, the hem almost to her knees.
“I’ll be late if I have to go change.”
“I’ll drive fast,” I hiss, shoving my feet into my boots. “Come on.”
With a scowl etched across my face, I barely acknowledge Penn, the only one of my brothers who’s up this early on a weekend, as I stalk through the living room, snatching our bagged lunches from the counter and towing Bonnie along behind me, my hand gripping hers tightly.
“Hey Penn,” she calls in greeting as I march us towards the front door, needing to get her out of those indecent shorts and into something that’s not going to haunt me for the rest of the day.
“Get in,” I snarl, lifting her into my truck, when she hesitates.
“Beau, you’re being ridiculous,” she laughs.
“Do you want to be the reason someone dies today?” I growl.
“No,” she giggles.
“Then you need to change.” Circling my truck, I climb into the driver’s seat and crank the engine, launching us down the driveway far too quickly, leaving a hailstorm of gravel in our wake. Bonnie’s still giggling when I skid to a stop outside her house. “Go change quickly and burn those fucking shorts, if I ever see you wearing them anywhere except our bedroom, I’ll spank your ass, and not the sexy fun kind of spanking, the kind that hurts,” I hiss, my fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles are white.
Shaking her head and still laughing at me, she slides from the truck and rushes to the front door disappearing inside the house. I know I should go in with her, but we just don’t have time for her to be naked around me. I won’t be able to resist laying claim to her and leaving her smelling like sex and me with how riled up I am at the minute.
I’ve never felt jealousy before and it’s a weird fucked up sensation. Dan isn’t a threat anymore, but the idea of anyone seeing what’s mine, of a guy looking at her and wanting her, wanting to take her from me. The idea makes me feel violent.
When the door opens again, my gaze drops to her legs and a relieved breath bursts from me when I see she’s in tight black, ripped jeans. They still show off her toned legs and perfect ass, but I can’t dress her like a nun just because I hate the idea of anyone wanting her.
She’s still wearing my hoodie, her hair twisted into two braids that make her look even younger than she really is. My dick is hard again, or maybe it just never went soft, and I’m out the truck and moving towards her before I even realize what I’m doing.
“Thank you,” I say against her lips as I lift her off the floor and kiss her hard. She wraps her legs around my waist and kisses me back as if she’s as desperate for me, as I am for her.
Groaning, I reluctantly pull away. “Sure you don’t want to call in sick, I could have you naked and in our bed in less than ten minutes?” I ask, rolling my hips and pressing my rock-hard cock against her core.
“I can’t,” she says with a sigh, running her fingers through my hair.
“You are a fucking siren, you’re far too tempting,” I rasp, opening her door and placing her gently onto the seat of the truck.
15
Bonnie
An hour later, Beau presses one last kiss to my lips and finally leaves, his intense eyes watching me through the window until his truck pulls away from view. Sighing, I lean against the counter and take a moment to try and process everything that’s happened in the last few days.
Beau Barnett has somehow managed to barge into my life and completely take over. It seems unfathomable that four days ago he was just the growly, sexy star of my childish dreams, and now I think he’s my real-life boyfriend. Although I can hardly call him a boy, Beau is all man.
Last night he took my virginity. I had sex for the first time with Beau Barnett. Beau freaking Barnett. This morning I’m sore, each step reminding me that his dick was inside me last night. I have a feeling he’d love knowing that. He’s unexpectedly intense, in fact, intense doesn’t accurately describe him. Maybe crazy might be a better description.
He went from silent stranger, to calling me his, in what feels like the blink of an eye and I’m struggling to catch up, even while I’m enjoying the ride. I keep asking for time and space and he keeps refusing. When I get mad, he just chases harder and I’m struggling to remember why I should fight, when being with him feels so good.
The morning passes in a haze of customers, but I don’t feel present, my mind is on Beau. My body aches, but it’s not unpleasant. I’m not a virgin anymore and I feel different, maybe it’s the lingering effects of the orgasm he gave me in the shower this morning, but my skin feels tingly, my stomach in knots, and I’m eager to see him. I miss him and it’s only been a few hours.
He warned me that he’s an asshole, that he’s jealous and overbearing and possessive. He’s trying to take over my life, but I miss him and I have no idea what that means. I can’t allow myself to fall in love with him. Beau isn’t the type of guy you hang your future on. He’s in his forties, he’s had his pick of women all his life and has chosen not to settle down, a silly twenty-one-year-old with a crush won’t change that for him, and I need to keep reminding myself of that.
I need to force time and distance between us no matter what he says, because if I don’t, when this all ends I’ll be a mess. Firming my resolve, I pick up my cell and type out a text to Owen.
Me – My shift ends at one-thirty today. I have plans and can’t stay late. Bonnie.
A customer comes in, so it’s five minutes later when I next get a chance to look at my cell.
Owen – see you at one-thirty.
Smiling, I put my cell back on the shelf and reach for the brown bagged lunch Penn made for me this morning. Or I’m assuming it was Penn as he was the only one who was up when Beau dragged me out of his house, not giving me a chance to do anything more than wave and say a quick hey.
Opening the bag, I smile at the contents. A turkey, salad sandwich, a bag of pretzels, a baggie full of grapes, and a cupcake with a note stuck to the front of it. Pulling the note out, I can’t help but smile.
I’m sorry about yesterday, what I said was thoughtless and I never meant to upset you. Please forgive me. Cody xoxo
Smiling to myself, I glance at the shop, making sure that all the customers look happy, then I step into the kitchen and eat the lunch Beau’s brother made for me as if I was part of the family. Suddenly the urge for distance doesn’t seem so important after all.
Owen strides through the door at exactly 1.29pm. “I’m here, what plans do you have that are so important?” he asks, his gaze annoyed.
“I’m only on the rota until one-thirty, Owen, I’m not cutting out early, I’m just working the hours I’m employed for,” I say, stomping into the back and grabbing my purse and Beau’s hoodie. I tried to get him to take it with him this morning, but he insisted I keep it.
“Bye,” I call, not bothering to look back at my asshole boss as I stride out the door and skid to a stop when I remember that Beau bought me to work this morning, and I don’t have a car to get home.
Pulling my cell from my pocket I dial my dad’s number and he answers on the second ring. “Hey honey, is everything okay?”
“Hey Daddy, I finished on time, but Beau brought me to work, so I don’t have my car, could you come pick me up?”
“Sure honey, I’ll be there soon,” my dad says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Thanks, I’ll walk up to Cora’s mama’s place, so come grab me from there.”
“Will do, see you soon.”
“Thanks Daddy,” I say, ending the call and sliding my cell into my jeans pocket. The wind whistles along the sidewalk, and I pull Beau’s enormous hoodie on as I walk up towards the clothes shop Cora’s mama owns and Cora works in. The bell above the door dings as I push it open and step inside, browsing the racks of pants and dresses while Cora rings up a sale on the old-fashioned brass register.
“Thanks for your business, please come again,” Cora tells the lady as she passes her the bag with her purchase in. She waits until the customer leaves the shop before she turns to me, a manic smile across her lips. “Beau Barnett. Beau Barnett,” she screeches. “You lucky, lucky bitch. Tell me the rumors are true, is he hung like a horse, is that why you’re walking funny,” she shouts at me.
“Cora,” I hiss, glancing around the shop to make sure we’re alone.
“I don’t give a fuck who hears you snagged moby dick, this is epic. Did you take a picture? Can you take a picture? I need to see it. Maybe you could get him to do one of those plaster molding things for his dick, then you can get a dildo made that’s exactly the same,” she yammers, talking so fast I can barely understand her.
“Cora,” I shout.
“What?” she says, almost bouncing on the spot with her excitement.
“Calm down.”
Her head tips to the side and she studies me for a minute. “Oh my god, it isn’t true is it?” she says sagging with disappointment. “You’re not with him at all, are you?”
“No, I am with him, or at least I think we are. Honestly, I have no idea, he’s kind of crazy, but in an adorably sweet way,” I confess.
She screams, actually screams, grabbing my hands and doing that excited thing girls do when they bounce up and down on the spot. “Why aren’t you bouncing?” she asks after a moment.
“Because I’m not ten,” I say with a sarcastic shrug.
“What’s the matter? Does he have a tiny dick, is the sex bad? You have had sex, haven’t you?” she asks, her eyes dramatically wide.
“I’m not talking about his dick with you,” I say.
“Oh my god, it’s tiny isn’t it?” she gasps, her shoulders sagging in visible disappointment.
Glancing from side to side I check again to make sure were alone. “I don’t have anything to compare it to. But it seems big,” I whisper.
“Yes,” she cries, throwing her head back and thrusting her fists into the air. “I knew it, I knew that many rumors couldn’t be wrong.”
“Shut up,” I hiss, fidgeting with the sleeves of Beau’s hoodie.
“What’s the matter? You’ve had a crush on him for years, why aren’t you jubilant, swinging from the chandeliers while you have wild monkey sex?” she asks.
“I am happy, well, sort of anyway, it’s all just a lot,” I say.
“A lot?”
“Yeah, Beau is… well he’s not what I was expecting,” I admit.
“What like he’s freaky in bed, or he has bad personal hygiene? Come on, Bonnie, give me something,” she begs.
“He’s just really full on,” I confess on a quiet exhale.
“Full on,” she repeats backs to me.
“Yeah, he ignored me for a year, then the other day a switch flipped and he just steamrollered his way into my life. He shows up at work and my house and he just won’t take no for an answer. I was on a date, and he turned up and scared the guy off and dragged me out of there. He’s just a lot, and I
don’t want to let myself get carried away.”
“Why not? Beau is the type of guy you get carried away with,” Cora says enthusiastically.
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “Everyone in town knows that Beau Barnett doesn’t date. He has sex with women and that’s it. I’m okay with that, I plan to enjoy it while it lasts, but I refuse to be the silly little girl who pins all her hopes and dreams on a guy who doesn’t do happy ever after. He does orgasms, good ones, but they don’t become relationships, they’re just really great while they last.”
Cora’s eyes go a little downcast, but she nods, forcing an understanding smile to her lips. “You know what we need?”
“What?” I ask.
“A girls’ night out.”
“Of course we do,” I say mockingly.
“We absolutely do. A few cocktails, a little dancing. You can stay the night at my place and then you can walk to work the next morning,” she says, her face brightening with the idea of a night out.
“Actually, that sounds great,” I say shocking myself as the words leave my mouth. Cora’s nights out tend to consist of several pitchers of cocktails, dancing on tables, and then going home with Mitchell Holstead, her douche ex who just won’t go away. The last time we went out was to celebrate my twenty-first and I can almost still taste the fake banana flavored alcoholic milkshakes she convinced me wouldn’t give me a hangover.
“Really?” she gushes excitedly.
“Yes, really,” I nod.
“Yay. Well how about on Friday you bring a change of clothes to work with you, we can have dinner together, then hit up Barney’s just in time for happy hour.”
A little of the stress I’m feeling melts away and I nod. “Sounds perfect.”
Glancing out the shop window, I spot the big white truck with the ranch’s logo pull to the curb outside. “My dad’s here, I’ve got to go, I’ll speak to you tomorrow, okay?”