Conceal

by Juliana Stone

  She dragged her eyes back up to Beau’s. The energy in the air crackled between them and the smell of sex rose to her nostrils. Her sex.

  God she wanted him.

  “It’s not fair that you have all those clothes on.”

  Beau’s eyes darkened until they were the color of cobalt and he reached for the edge of his T-shirt, though he hesitated. “Are you sure about this?”

  There was something in his eyes that was a bit unsettling, and maybe Betty should have paid attention to it, but she couldn’t think beyond the here and now.

  Her hands fell to her breasts—her fingers tweaked the nipples—and when he groaned, she smiled.

  No more hesitation.

  Beau’s shirt was over his head in less than two seconds and her hands were on his belt, her eyes on his, as she quickly undid his pants.

  “My boots.”

  He would have moved but she whispered, “no.”

  Betty sank to her knees and bent over, enjoying the quick intake of breath as she thrust her hips into the air and slowly, undid the laces on his boots. When she was done, she sank back onto her haunches, her legs spread just enough so that he could clearly see what was there…what was his for the taking.

  Beau stepped out of his jeans and his erection strained against his boxers.

  “Take them off,” she said.

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  Beau stepped out of them and Betty sucked in a breath. He really was magnificent. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock, her hands at the base as she held him steady.

  Muscles bunched in his thighs and he ran his hands through his hair as he gazed down at her, mouth parted and breathing heavy.

  He inhaled sharply when her tongue licked its way down his shaft and then back up again, where she pressed into the underside of the head and suckled him there.

  “Jesus, Betty. I’m not going to last if you keep that up.”

  She arched an eyebrow and smiled wickedly as she took all of him into her mouth. He groaned when she began to suckle, gently at first and then as he blew out one long breath after another, she used her tongue and her lips and her mouth to drive him crazy.

  He leaned back and swore, but then his hands crept into her hair and he held her there, straining against her as she worked him.

  Betty didn’t make a habit of going down on guys she was with. It had always felt subservient to her as if she was doing them a favor—call her selfish, but Betty had always been about receiving the favors. Men were lucky to have her. That was her mantra. Maybe it was the vulnerable position of being on her knees—or the thought of somehow giving up control that put her off.

  But right here? Right now? The fact that she was responsible for the look of sheer lust and pleasure on Beau’s face made her feel as if she could walk on the clouds.

  It made her feel powerful. Feminine.

  She nipped along the length of him again as her tongue continued to thrust and lick and just as she would have taken him whole once more, he jerked and stopped her.

  “Don’t,” he said roughly.

  She smiled at him. “I thought you could handle me.”

  He stared down at her, his hands still in her hair and a wicked glint entered his eyes. “Trust me darlin’ I intend to handle you.”

  He tugged on her, until she slowly stood up and with his hands still buried in her waves, he pulled her forward that last inch so that every naked inch of her body was pressed intimately against every naked inch of his.

  His breath was warm at her neck and shivers rolled over her body as he licked beneath her ear, hands cradling the back of her head so that she was forced to tilt upward.

  Slowly he kissed his way along her jaw until his mouth grazed her lips. It was only a whisper but it was enough to heat her up from the inside out. “I’m gong to handle every fucking inch of you.”

  He slid his lips across her mouth once more and a shot of desire sat low in her belly. It burned so hard that it was almost painful.

  “I’ll handle you fast and hard.” His tongue slipped inside her mouth for just a taste and she moaned when he withdrew. Dammit, she wanted more.

  “And I’ll handle you slow.”

  Again with the tongue. Again for just a taste.

  She moved restlessly and God help her, but she whimpered. She whimpered like a child who wasn’t getting her way. Beau pulled back and gazed into her eyes, his expression unreadable. “I’ll handle you until you come apart for me. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  His thumb slipped into her mouth while he continued to cradle the back of her head in his other hand. His eyes were electric, the blue so vibrant, so alive that her breath caught.

  “This is about you, Betty. I want to make this all about you.” He paused and something crept into his eyes, something fleeting. Whatever it was, it touched something inside her but she didn’t have time to think about it, or over-analyze because his mouth opened over hers, hot and wet and demanding.

  Beau kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. He kissed her until her head spun. Until her body went limp and then he pulled her against him, wedged her hips between his thighs and grabbed her ass. His large palms cupped her and anchored her so that she couldn’t move.

  And why would she want to? His erection pressed into that soft, wet, aching part of her that needed to feel him, and the throb between her legs intensified as she ground herself against him. He was hot and so damn hard.

  The kiss deepened even more, tongues gnashed and danced—lips suckled and tugged and nipped. And when she finally came up for air he grabbed her up into his arms and laid her on the bed, sliding down her body, his hands on her knees as he rested between them.

  His long blond hair begged for her fingers and that sensual mouth curved into a wicked smile as he bent her legs apart and sat back for a peek.

  “You’re so beautiful, Betty.”

  She was trembling. Every inch of her was on fire and trembling.

  The muscles in her legs tightened instinctively and when she would have closed them, the gentle pressure from his hands kept them apart.

  “Let me look at you,” he whispered.

  Betty’s head fell back and she whimpered. It had been so long since she’d felt so alive. So damn connected.

  Hot breath against her thigh and the soft scrap of Beau’s stubble told her his intent and she squirmed, yelping when she felt his hot breath against that throbbing part of her that ached for him. Her hands fisted into the coverlet and her legs fell open completely as he kissed her.

  She felt him open her folds and when his tongue slicked along her opening she cried out.

  “You taste as good as you look, darlin’.”

  Beau Simon took from her, tasting, suckling, and toying with her until she felt the burn deep inside—that precious build that was a whole lotta pleasure mixed with a slice of pain. She knew she was close and when his teeth nicked her clitoris and his mouth and tongue worked their magic, she was done.

  She came. She came hard, shattering into his mouth and when it was over, Betty was a panting, limp noodle.

  For a second she laid there, wasted, content, so damn content that at first she wasn’t aware that he’d left the bed. Selfish, maybe, but it wasn’t until she felt his weight press in on the mattress that she managed to lift her head and even that was an effort.

  Blue eyes stared at her with a hunger that left her mouth dry.

  Beau held up a small foil packet. “We’re not done.”

  “Where’d you find that?” she asked breathlessly, watching him as he ripped it open.

  “Wallet,” he answered roughly.

  “Planning ahead?” she quipped.

  Beau shook his head. “No.” Their eyes connected. “It’s been there for a while.”

  He rolled it onto himself and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. There was something incredibly sexual about watching a man handle himself. It made her want to touch him all over again.

  “How lo
ng is a while?” she managed to say before she met his gaze.

  Beau slid along her body. He kissed her bellybutton. Then moved upward, trailing a line of fire to her breasts. He took each nipple into his mouth and suckled gently until she was moaning again.

  That fire in her belly pressed hard and she began to move her hips, seeking his hardness. Wanting him inside her.

  He was there, pressed into her softness but not quite inside. Her hands were on his shoulders and she pushed at him, thrusting her hips up with a growl—but Beau wasn’t letting her take charge.

  It kind of pissed her off.

  It kind of excited her.

  He kissed his way up her neck, along her chin until he claimed her mouth in the sweetest, most gentle kiss ever. She gasped when he moved to her ear and pressed butterfly kisses just below her lobe.

  “How long is a while?” he whispered into her ear. “A lot longer than you think.”

  And then he was inside her. Pulsing. Hot. Hard.

  He thrust slowly and methodically. In and then out. Over and over until Betty thought she was going to lose her mind.

  “Faster,” she said roughly, reaching for his mouth once more as her legs wrapped around his hips.

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?” she managed to gasp.

  “Sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “I’m taking my time, Darlin’”

  “But,” she whimpered.

  “No buts,” Beau said as he withdrew totally and waited a few seconds before settling back inside her, his thickness filling her completely. “We’ve got all night and Bets?”

  His blue eyes were as dark as wet denim. “What?” she answered breathlessly.

  “I’m only getting started.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  BEAU HAD BEEN awake for at least a half an hour with Betty curled against him, her back to his chest, her head pillowed on his arm. An arm that was asleep and killing him, but there was no way in hell he was moving.

  Seeing Betty like this—asleep, relaxed, and vulnerable—was like watching a sleeping tiger. He wanted to stretch it out as long as he could because he had a feeling that once she woke up, that relaxed and vulnerable side he was starting to really like, would disappear.

  And damn, he’d like to hold on to it for a little while longer.

  Beau inhaled the fresh scent that clung to her hair and nuzzled the back of her neck as he pushed the hair away from her skin. His eyes caught sight of the tears that she’d inked into her skin. Tears that represented what? Pain? Hope? Betty and her sisters?

  He had no idea what they meant but something about them made his chest tight because he was pretty sure they were linked to what had happed to her when she was younger.

  His fingers drifted over them—one, two, then three—and suddenly he was filled with a whole bunch of stuff he’d never felt before. It was a hot surge of something that rifled through him and had Beau tightening his grip on Betty, holding her close so he could hear her breathe.

  Feel her heart beat against the palm of his hand.

  It confused the shit out of him. Was it the need to protect Betty? The need to punish the men who’d hurt her? Or was it deeper?

  “Shit,” he murmured as he relaxed a bit against the pillow, his eyes on the ceiling. He wanted Betty in his goddamn movie. A movie that he wanted to direct. But how was that going to work? He didn’t believe in mixing his private life with his professional. It happened all the time in Hollywood. But nine times out of ten, things ended badly.

  These feelings—whatever they were—were going to complicate things.

  Her ass pressed into his groin and his body responded immediately, his cock hardened. That’s all it took. A touch.

  She moved her hips slowly and stretched, turning slightly so that she was on her back. His free hand fell to her breasts—a goddamn Priest wouldn’t be able to resist—and he rolled her nipples softly between his fingers, smiling when she groaned and turned all the way until her eyes were looking into his.

  “Good morning,” he said softly.

  “Hey,” she replied.

  For several long moments they stared at each other in silence and for several long moments that tight feeling inside Beau grew. It stretched and lengthened until…

  “Don’t do that,” Betty said, her voice husky and low.

  He pushed her hair back from her shoulder, and pressed a kiss to the side of her exposed neck. Right there where she was marked.

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Don’t make this anything other than what it is.”

  He smiled against her. Seemed as if his sleeping tiger was awake.

  “And what is this exactly?”

  She rolled over and pushed against him until he was flat on his back and she was lying across his stomach. “Sex,” she replied, leaning forward her hot, moist, mouth on his abdomen.

  Betty trailed kisses across his chest, up to his mouth where she planted a soft butterfly kiss on his lips.

  “It’s just hot…” She straddled him and gazed down, her long hair framing a face that was unforgettable.

  “Sex…” She continued, tossing her hair out of the way as her breasts swayed in front of him.

  Beau’s hands were on her hips, his cock aching as he positioned her above him.

  “Just sex,” he repeated.

  She lowered herself and he was barely able to keep it together. Christ, she was already wet and so damn tight—it was insane.

  “Yes,” she said her voice rising as he began to move her slowly. “Just sex.” Up and down.

  Up and down.

  She smiled, though her voice was strained. “Isn’t that enough?”

  Beau didn’t answer. Instead he watched her.

  He watched her eyes darken as they increased their speed, her rhythm matching his, stroke for stroke. She was wild. Uninhibited. Totally fucking beautiful.

  She scratched her nails across his chest as she bent forward and tipped her hips slightly. The smile that curved her lips told him that she knew exactly how she affected him. She was the tiger.

  His tiger.

  Beau held on as they reached the peak and then shattered against each other. He held on as she shuddered and threw her head back with a sigh that told him she was spent. Satisfied.

  Was sex enough?

  As Betty collapsed on him, he held her close. He inhaled her scent—that earthy, feminine scent that drove him crazy.

  He inhaled her sex—her sex still wet from him—and that something from earlier washed over him again. This time he knew that part of it was possession.

  Beau wanted her and he was pretty sure that sex wasn’t going to be enough. What the hell was he going to do now?

  “I’m starving,” Betty said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They showered and dressed in the same clothes they’d had on the day before. Sure they were wrinkled as shit and dirty from driving through the rain, but Betty Jo could have been wearing a burlap sack and she still would have been the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.

  Her smile was light, her steps quick and sure. That wild hair hadn’t seen a brush since the morning before and there wasn’t a stitch of makeup on her face.

  Didn’t matter.

  Beau smiled and grabbed her hand as they entered a greasy spoon just off the interstate a few miles down from the motel. He’d pulled on his faded orange Oregon Beavers ball cap and with his aviators, he was pretty sure no one would know who he was.

  It was early. Before six in the morning, but there were a few souls having the advertised all you can eat breakfast. Every single head popped up and every pair of male eyes settled on Betty.

  Beau was pretty sure he could have been buck-naked and none of them would have paid him any mind.

  They slid into a booth in the far corner. The waitress—an older woman close to his mother’s age—took one look at them and marched herself back to the kitchen. She promptly appeared with two giant sized mugs of ste
aming, fresh coffee and asked for their order.

  Betty opted for steak and eggs, with a side of hash browns and extra toast.

  “What?” she said as he asked for the same, making their waitress blush when he smiled up at her. When the lady left with their order he focused on Betty.

  “Nothing. I’m just used to most women I’m with picking at their food and ordering fruit salad or just coffee. Hell, sometimes water.”

  She took a sip of her coffee. “Well those women are stupid.”

  “Yeah.” To put it mildly. He’d never understood the desire some women had to starve themselves. Didn’t make sense. If you were hungry you ate. If you needed to work it off, you hit the gym. End of story.

  Betty put her cup down slowly, twirled her spoon in the cup and then with a sigh, glanced up at him. Her gaze was direct and he knew she was all business.

  Fuck. It was too soon for business. He wanted to stretch things out as long as he could. Hell, he was even considering asking her if she wanted to take a little road trip with him. Just take off and go anywhere. Be someone other than Beau Simon and Betty Jo Barker, for a little while.

  “So, what are we doing, Beau?”

  He took his aviators off and pushed the ball cap back on his head.

  “You tell me,” he replied.

  She laughed at that. “Too scared to answer?”

  Damn she was smart.

  “Last night was really nice,” she said softly.

  “Yeah.”

  “But if we do this movie…” she leaned her elbows on the table. “And I want to do this movie, I gotta be clear on that. I want the part, Beau.”

  “Okay.” He liked the glow in her eyes. The excitement in her voice.

  “That means that we can’t be involved in a…”

  “A what?” His tone was teasing, but the truth was, that he was trying to figure things out—a way to have it all. But she wasn’t co-operating.

  “In a whatever last night was. We can’t do that and film a movie that you’re directing and starring in as well. I can’t…after everything that’s happened.” She sighed and stirred her coffee, her eyes sliding away from his. “I know what people think of me. And I know what you think of me.”

  “Hey,” he said roughly. “Things change. People change.” He grabbed her hand. “I didn’t know you before. Not really. But I know you now and that’s all that matters.”