by Ava Miles
She lifted his hand to the place between her breasts where a patch of soft skin peeked out.
“I’m falling in love with you too,” she said. “The man I met in Nashville and this new one who’s coming to the surface here.” What would he look like when he finished the process? Would he still create these feelings inside her? God, she hoped so, but she realized a part of her was still scared. He didn’t know what he was becoming, and she didn’t either.
“Both men thank you,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her cheek.
She turned her head a fraction so their lips were inches apart. “Maybe this is the perfect place for us to…make love.” She’d never used those words before. With her three other boyfriends, the sex hadn’t been as meaningful as her connection with Beau already felt.
He kissed her. Softly. Gently. Warmly. Her toes curled in her heels.
“I’d like that very much,” he said, chuckling. “Problem is, I couldn’t work up the courage to ask for Hargreaves’ help with buying protection, and ordering it online seemed presumptuous. Maybe we should just fool around a little and tomorrow you can go to the village with me.”
“On a sex shopping spree?” She poked at his chest, laughing herself. “First fashion and now this.”
“Old Beau is dying here, honey,” he said, shaking his head. His cheeks looked a little pink in the low light.
She couldn’t help but tease him. “I don’t know what the French word for ‘protection’ is. I might have to ask Hargreaves. Or Ibrahim.”
“Now you’re making fun,” he said, pressing her back against the cool metal of the car. “Here I was, trying to be a good guy again.”
“Protection shouldn’t be a good guy or bad guy kinda thing. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this might upset you because of your…father situation.”
He sat up straight. “It didn’t cross my mind until now. I was only…”
She was an idiot. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have teased you. I have a sick sense of humor sometimes. Beau, I’m on the pill. No more protection needed.” She knew he’d be conscientious about his sexual health, but still she said, “I’m safe.”
“Good, because so am I,” he said, lowering her again and kissing the soft skin under her clavicle where she’d dotted her perfume earlier.
“Are you seriously planning on making love to me on top of this car? I never took you for a rap artist. They talk about doing things on their Escalades. Oh, but you country boys do them in the back of your pickup trucks, right? And here we only have a black sedan. So boring.”
“Are you nervous? Is that what all this teasing is about?”
She gulped. “Probably. I’m always nervous in the beginning. My mind starts spinning. I mean, at least I have matching underwear on and shaved my legs. You know. The things a girl thinks about.” She wouldn’t tell him that dark voice in the back of her head was wondering if he’d be disappointed by what her breasts looked like without her bra. Damn Jace the Jerk.
He reached for her hand. “I’m a little nervous too, which I figure seems right. This is a big deal. You know I met a Frenchman today who told me one of the things that makes a man a man is how he makes love to a woman. Do you have any idea how much that blew my mind? I’d never given it much thought before. Bottom line. I plan to make love to you with everything I am and then some.”
Her brain finished exploding from the litany—he’d met a Frenchman who’d said that and what was it about the part and then some. Good Lord, she was going to slide off this car in a second. “Well, in the interest of helping you with a song, how about I throw your jacket on the ground followed by your shirt and pants—you don’t have an aversion to dirt, I’ve noticed—and we lie down here in the fields of lavender?”
His mouth twitched. “I could do that so long as I’m not the only one stripping here.”
She inched off the car, her heels sinking into the warm earth. “I’d never let you do that all by yourself. But my dress stays away from the dirt. It’s one of my favorites.”
“It should be,” he said, hefting himself off the car and standing next to her. “You look as pretty as a picture in it. I’ve been trying all night not to look at that open spot between your breasts, but I can’t say I succeeded.” He ran his finger down that bare patch of skin and then traced the edge of her neckline. “Did you put perfume here?”
When his head leaned down to that spot, she almost fell backward. Luckily his hands clasped her hips. She closed her eyes. “Yes, of course I put perfume there.”
“Good,” he said, inhaling deeply. “I want to take in all of your scents tonight.”
He slid the jacket off her shoulders to the ground and started to unbutton his shirt. “In the interest of making you comfortable, I’ll undress first.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I can do it too.”
He caught her hands as she reached for the hem of her dress. “Let me help at least, honey. Seeing you undress the first time is something I plan to remember until my dying breath.”
The words this man used. His hands slid up the backs of her legs, much like he’d done when he’d kissed her in the kitchen, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He tugged her dress up and over her head, leaving her in the white lacy bralette she’d bought in Paris and her matching thong.
“My God,” he said, running his hands over her hips before cupping them. “You’re as perfect as a sunrise and as beautiful as a lake.”
His shirt was partially unbuttoned, and she leaned forward and kissed the center of his chest, directly over his heart. “I love it when you talk to me like that.” Her fingers took care of the rest of the buttons, and she let his shirt fall to the ground next to the bed they were making for their first time together. She already knew it was going to be one of the most powerful moments of her life.
He kissed the soft side of her neck, taking care of his pants. “I’m glad you like it. I hope you don’t mind me taking my time. I want to savor every second with you.”
Before she could chicken out, she unhooked her bra and stepped back to allow him to look at her in the silver light. She needed to reclaim a part of herself tonight. Beau’s sharp intake soothed the nerves fizzing in her stomach.
“You’re soft and round and beautiful here,” he said, tracing the underside of her breasts with what Caitlyn could only feel was reverence. “Put any final lies to rest right now with me.”
That he understood, that he cared…
She threaded her hands in his hair as he sank to a knee before her, taking one nipple into his mouth and softly sucking. She felt the weight of what she’d been carrying fall to the ground. Pleasure took its place, his mouth adding to her benediction.
“You’re beautiful here,” he said, releasing her and standing, cupping both her breasts. “Don’t let me or any man ever make you feel different. That’s truth, honey. God’s honest truth.”
Tears burned her eyes, and a place in the back of her throat grew tight, so she lifted up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her shoes would have to go, but she wouldn’t concern herself with that right now. All she wanted to do was kiss him and feel his warm, heavy body over hers.
His mouth opened, sensing her need, and his tongue met hers in perfect rhythm. A slow slide at first and then a playful tangle. He wrapped his arms around her hips, bringing them flush, and the force of his desire burned against her belly. Yes, she wanted him and then some. And then some more, she thought.
As if he sensed her thoughts, he slid his hand down until he cupped her butt and then rubbed himself against her. She let out a moan, the sound muted by the slow friction of their mouths mating. He tugged her thong down, making space to slide it off her body. His dark eyes lowered. He reached out to the V of her thighs, tracing it lightly with his hand.
“Beautiful here too,” he said, lowering to both knees. “Lean back and let me love you.”
She let him lower her to their makeshift bed on the ground. The land was still warm, the heat fr
om the sunshine still palpable somehow. He opened her legs slowly, settling between them—and then his mouth was on her. The first soft touch of his lips sent her hips shooting off the ground. She was ready for him, ready for all of him. But she wanted this now, and as he slid his tongue inside her, she let herself take it.
She came in a flash of fire, the long line of her body arching off the ground in the moonlight. But still he took his fill of her, exploring her curves and textures, until she burned for him again.
“Now this would be a perfume for the ages,” he said softly as she came back to herself. “But I rather like knowing it’s mine and yours to share.”
She inhaled the moment, wanting to bottle it in her memory. Lavender. Earth. Musk. Sweat. And then something…a little metallic and a little floral. Her. In the arms of her lover.
“Come,” she said, leaning up on an elbow and cupping his cheek. “Let’s make another one together.”
He slid up her body, trailing kisses along the way. She trailed her hand down the hard planes of his naked back, learning the texture of his skin and the way he responded to her touch. His muscles would tense and relax in her wake, but not until she touched the crown of his desire, eliciting a deep rumble of a groan, did she feel the full force of the power coursing between them. She sensed they both had the power to make each other become new.
Her touch transformed to benediction as she caressed her way across the geography of his body, this body he’d thought he knew but now seemed to pose so many questions. Who am I? Who am I from? Every bone, every feature needed her touch, so it could come back to its core truth.
He was simply Beau.
“You’re your own man,” she said, tracing his jaw, feeling the call to heal the parts of him weighed down with lies like he had done for her. “Don’t let anyone ever make you believe differently.”
He pressed his forehead to hers, struggling with emotions that had him tensing up for a different reason now. She felt the struggle and held him until he said, “Thank you, honey.”
The only answer that was needed was the press of her lips to his. He met her then, his muscles relaxing. She felt as though the earth under them was absorbing everything into itself, almost like it was composting all the lies and wounds they’d carried and making room for something new and beautiful to grow.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered when they broke apart, breathing hard.
It had to be now, with the moon bearing witness and the earth holding them in place. He brushed the most private part of her, and she shifted to give him entry. He seemed to know it because he whispered against her lips, “I love you,” taking both her hands in his against the soft, warm earth and filling every inch of her with himself.
She heard the words in her heart before she spoke them. “I love you too.” There was no denying the full truth of it now.
He stilled inside her, big and hot and full and ever so perfect. “God, Caitlyn. You. This. I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.”
She believed him and felt her soul answer the call. Her eyes closed, white light peeking at the corners, as he started to thrust, first slow and languid before picking up the pace. He flowed into her like the tide, only to recede and then return. She opened herself up to his every movement, excitement filling her blood. They were merging now, becoming one in a way she’d only imagined was possible.
His breath was fast and hot against her ear, and she opened her eyes to see him poised above her, straining in the tide. “Come,” she said, tilting her hips to give him deeper access.
She felt a force gathering inside her belly, swirling like the tide coming in and out of her, and then she was thrust forth into the sea of their own making. Crying out, she tensed around him and heard his answering shout followed by a primal, earthy groan.
“Oh, Christ,” he rasped out, some of his weight coming down over her in the aftermath. “God, I never swear like this, but I can’t seem to… Holy ever-loving Christ, Caitlyn. I never knew…”
She understood what he meant but couldn’t say so. Her throat seemed to have gone dry. This is what sex was supposed to be like? Part of her wanted to laugh, rise to her feet, and throw her hands up to the sky with him. The other wanted to stay here with him inside her, their bodies replete from the rhythm they’d just danced.
Kissing his neck, she let herself soften even more under him. “I’d like to stay like this for a while longer.”
“Forever if you’d like,” he whispered back, his voice full of love and promise.
He gathered himself and lifted his head. Their eyes met, and this time it wasn’t only moonlight she saw in his eyes.
She saw sunshine there too.
Chapter 19
Arthur knew a sated couple when he saw one.
Didn’t he look in the mirror every morning after he and Clara showered? That beautiful woman who’d reinvigorated his life drank her coffee smugly next to him, and he waited for the elbow he knew was coming. The sharp jab to his ribs made him smile.
“Good morning, you two,” he called out. Standing in the kitchen doorway with their hands on each other, they hadn’t even noticed him and Clara sitting at the kitchen table by the window. Ah, l’amour…
“Uncle Arthur!” Caitlyn jumped apart from Beau, dropping her hands. “Aunt Clara. Didn’t see you there.”
“No kidding.” He pulled off a piece of croissant. “How was your date?” Asking the obvious wasn’t a bad thing. People liked to share happy times, and he liked to hear their stories.
The young couple gazed at each other, and Arthur could hear wedding bells. Well, that was fast. They’d been downright angsty before, but it seemed they’d come to a major understanding, one he knew went beyond sex. The physical couldn’t make a person glow like Caitlyn was doing this morning, and Beau looked more transformed than he had after his shopping trip.
“The most romantic night of my life,” Caitlyn breathed.
“Mine too,” Beau said, his voice low, his hand brushing her hip in a quick caress.
“Sounds divine, my dears,” Clara said, rising from the table. “How about some coffee?”
“That would be great,” Caitlyn said, patting Beau’s chest like she couldn’t keep her hands off him. “You want some too?”
“Sure,” he said, his eyes still on Caitlyn. “Thanks, Mrs. Hale.”
Caitlyn walked over, glowing more with each step, and pressed a kiss to each of their cheeks.
“Clara, please,” Clara said, her expression pleased as punch. “You might take a moment to see Chou-Chou when you can, Beau. I got him settled last night. He misses you terribly when you’re gone.”
Arthur couldn’t make a goat joke. Last night, he’d realized Clara was channeling some of her frustrated mothering impulses into caring for it. So long as she didn’t insist on taking it home with them, they’d be okay. He was terrified Hargreaves had some secret skill with goat’s milk. Arthur was still getting used to his Indian food.
“I’ll check on him,” Beau said, finally letting his eyes rest on something other than Caitlyn. Arthur wouldn’t be surprised if one of the young people ran into a door, what with the way they kept making eyes at each other. Still, when a person was in love, that’s how it should be. Except at his age. Running into a door would make him need stitches in his noggin.
“Beau, I realized you might know a friend of ours, what with you being a country singer,” Arthur said. “I saw online that you sang at Rye Crenshaw’s annual concert to raise money for domestic violence. Have you met his good friend, Rhett Butler Blaylock? He’s a poker player and lives in Dare Valley, our hometown.”
His eyebrows shot to his hairline. “I’ve met him at Rye’s place a time or two. He wears a ten-gallon cowboy hat like nobody else. I didn’t realize he lived in your hometown.”
Clara gave him a look, and Arthur smiled. She knew he was fishing. He could call Rhett up and mention he’d just met someone Rhett knew and then pump him discreetly for information.
He sensed news when he saw it. Always would.
“It’s a small world, isn’t it?” Caitlyn caressed Beau’s arm. “Has anyone seen Ibrahim today?”
“We had dinner with him last night,” Arthur said. “He’s hard at work creating your perfume.”
“He asked if I’d be willing to visit his lab and do a smelling session with him,” Clara said, beaming.
Arthur stood and crossed to where Clara was standing. “Ibrahim’s wise enough to realize he needs input from a few beautiful women on this perfume of yours, Caitlyn.”
The girl’s squeal made Arthur’s ears ring. “Oh, I should call my mom and Michaela! We could have a woman-only smelling session.”
“What a great idea, dear,” Clara said. “Maybe your father could come with Assumpta.”
Arthur rubbed her back. Clara wanted so badly to reconnect with her brother, but the stubborn goat was still holding to his brick wall. Shawn had attended their wedding, and he’d been pleasant to them both there and at Trevor and Becca’s wedding, but he hadn’t spoken to Clara alone about the white elephant in the room. Maybe it was best. Some people couldn’t fully set aside past grievances. Whatever the case, Arthur thought it best to stay out of the way. They needed to sort things out for themselves.