“We are going to the event they are having on the third floor. It’s one of the biggest tourist attractions here besides the bull-riding competition. It’s called The Wed-A-Thon.”
* * * *
“Where the hell is that son-of-a-bitch?” Sloane didn’t bother knocking on the door. This was her hotel. She was on a fucking mission. She couldn’t believe this shit! He had totally lost his mind. Her brothers had a tendency to stay an extra day, and today, she was grateful that they had. When her secretary placed the message and paperwork on her desk only thirty minutes ago, Sloane thought she would bash in her computer keyboard. Bo’s name was all over the paperwork. It was definitely something for the record books.
“Bo Reed Durden! Get your ass up now!” Sloane stomped up the stairs and banged on every door she passed. She knew exactly where Bo was, but she needed an audience for this little revelation. She couldn’t wait to see the look on her other brothers’ faces.
“Sloane, what the hell?”
Vance. She knew he always slept light. She chose to ignore him, he would follow. Now she just only needed…
“Fuck, Sloane! It’s too damn early for this shit!”
Cade. Instigator. Attitude problem. He would definitely go crazy. Just what she needed.
When Sloane threw open Bo’s bedroom door, she was astonished at what she had found. It was as if a hush fell around them. The drapes were drawn, the jazz station was playing, his clothes were strewn everywhere, and he had the nerve to have a pillow pulled over his head. This was not the Bo she knew. But, the papers she held in her hands were just as confusing. He still needed a firm hand. And she couldn’t wait to rip him a new one.
“Don’t you dare try and drown me out! Get your ass up! Now!” she screamed. Sloane walked further and cautiously into the room, still trying to hold on to her anger as she watched him slowly stir. Her tirades never did scare him when they were younger. Cade and Vance quietly followed Sloane. She was the oldest of the brood and had the tendency to instill fear in her big burly brothers when necessary. Except for Bo, obviously.
“What, Sloane?” Bo’s voice cracked. “What could you possibly do or say to make me feel any shittier than I already do?” He sat up and rubbed at his tired eyes.
She had never seen anything like it in her life. Bo’s eyes were red along with the rims. He was trying to hide what Sloane had already figured out. Her brother had been crying. His nose was red, and his face was flushed. The more she thought about it, Sunday morning he had been hungover and nearly passed out in his room. She thought it was a good thing, because he and Spring had a hard time parting ways and must have gotten plastered. And the hangover would possibly explain…Oh. Dear. Lord.
“I’m going to eat crow for this, Bo.” With shaky fingers, Sloane handed over the papers to Bo. She watched as her two brothers dove onto the bed, nearly knocking her over to get to Bo’s side to see what she had given him. “Just so you know, I’m telling Mom.”
After a few moments, he finally spoke. “Sloane, this better be some kind of joke.” Bo spoke through gritted teeth as he looked over the papers she had handed him.
“Do I look like I’m intimidated? That doesn’t look official enough for you?” Sloane started picking up his clothes. She knew exactly what he was going to do once common sense and reality set in.
After long, silent moments he finally spoke. “S-Sloane, what the hell? I don’t remember anything like this taking place. How the hell did this happen?”
Her brother was crying, and she didn’t think he realized it yet. Sloane needed to gain some control and get Cade and Vance out of there before they started asking too many questions. She knew her parents had raised them to understand that it was okay to cry, but she had never seen any of her brothers do it. And now was not the right time for either Cade or Vance to point that out.
“Cade, go get your crap packed and call for a car. You know the number. Vance, same deal, but prep the pilot.” Both of her brothers kept looking from the papers to Bo and then to her. And repeat. They were just as dumbfounded as she had been and, apparently, Bo. “Cade, Vance, now please.” She shook her head slowly at them. They knew that meant “no questions.” She had to get a handle on Bo first. That would not be accomplished with those two around staring at him as if he had grown a second head.
“Sloane?” Bo’s hands were shaking. They were shaking so bad the papers were snapping back and forth.
Sloane slowly retrieved the papers from Bo and placed them on the bed. “I don’t know if this is good or bad news, little bro, but it’s definitely true. Spring Showers is now your wife.”
Chapter 11
Spring’s hands shook uncontrollably as she finished buttoning her shirt. The fluttering in her belly had been nonstop ever since the phone call she had received earlier in the day when she was still at her art gallery. It had been two of the longest weeks of her life. Two weeks of sadness, crying, loneliness, and longing. And it was all because she was too stubborn to pick up the telephone. Luckily for her, Bo was not as stubborn as she was.
When Spring had returned from Las Vegas two weeks ago, she was a different woman. According to some of her friends, she looked livelier, happier. All of those things were true until reality started kicking in. She had professed her love to a man she had only spent a few days with. You can’t build a relationship off of that, or at least, that is what she told herself. She did not know how she would get through the empty days and lonely nights. She still had no memory of the last night she spent with Bo. It was a complete blank.
Spring remembered waking up early Sunday morning in her hotel room with Bo holding her close to his body. She had shared the room with her sister, Summer. Thankfully, Summer gave them privacy and slept in the adjoining room with their two younger sisters. It had been the most difficult parting of ways she had ever experienced.
Spring and Bo had sex in the bed and again in the shower. They had exchanged contact information and shared a tearful goodbye. Once he left, Spring and her sisters packed their bags. They had a flight to catch. The women were surprised to find a limousine waiting out front to take them to the airport. Courtesy of Bo. He must have known they wouldn’t have time to eat and had the limousine stocked with fruit, pastries, bagels, juices, and water bottles.
Spring’s first week back home had been a difficult adjustment. She cried her eyes out. She avoided phone calls from her sisters. Embarrassment wrapped around her like a warm unwanted blanket. She was a bundle of confusion and harbored conflicting feelings. Spring was damn certain she did not regret one sexually fulfilled moment she had spent with Bo. She had opened herself up to him, shared in naughty acts she had never participated in with another man. Somewhere during that weekend, Spring had lost her heart to a man she had barely known.
When the second week rolled around, Spring’s days were filled with regret, and she cried herself to sleep at night. She could have ended the torment by calling Bo at anytime, but she couldn’t do it. She wondered constantly if she had made a fool of herself. She had admitted feelings for Bo. No. She admitted she loved him. Now she was doubting his feelings. Did he say it just to get what he wanted from her? Had she been foolish enough to believe something could really develop after the weekend they had spent together?
She couldn’t debate his feelings for her because he had admitted that he loved her first. He didn’t wait to see if she reciprocated. All she had to do was call him, and she would have gotten the answers she was looking for. Being a coward was a bit more comforting and yet completely depressing, especially after she had searched his name on the Internet.
It turned out that Bo had more money than she thought possible. Not only did his family own the casino, they had several multimillion-dollar firms, and they were all located in Colorado. Even with the knowledge that Bo lived over an hour away from Spring, she could not muster up enough courage to drive the distance. She no longer felt she was suitable for him. She was just a measly college instructor and owner o
f an art gallery. Spring had given up before she had even tried.
Thank God, Bo had not. After his surprise phone call earlier that day, they had agreed to have dinner at her house. She wanted him all to herself without waiters and passersby interrupting them at every turn. Spring was unsure what to expect, but she knew she had better calm her nerves or she would never make it through the night.
The doorbell interrupted all other thoughts. When Spring opened the door, she wanted to cry because she was so happy to see Bo, yet she could not make a fool of herself. Not again. Not tonight. Bo had not given her a specific reason for his visit. She didn’t want to assume anything.
Her breath caught in her throat when she eyed the rugged-looking man standing on her porch. Her body tingled instantly at the sight of him. He was just as tall as she remembered, but the slight waver of sadness in his eyes was new. The snug, low-hung jeans and button-down shirt did nothing to mask the muscles she knew lay beneath. Spring smiled brightly as she moved aside to let Bo enter her home.
“Hey, you.” She almost missed the gift bag he had in his hand.
“Hey, beautiful.”
Bo stepped inside, brushing up against her arm. The moment Spring shut the door, he was on her. The bag he was carrying slipped out of his hand. He took her mouth with a carnal hunger he had no intention of suppressing. Spring moaned and melted into his arms just like old times.
She managed to lock the locks without removing her lips from Bo’s. He picked her up by the waist. She wrapped her legs around him. He nibbled on her lower lip. The simple movement caused Spring to grip him tighter. Her lips parted on a moan, and Bo slid his tongue into her mouth and explored each and every inch of it. His need to touch and taste her was overwhelming.
Bo could not believe Spring was still this responsive to him. He figured they would have to wait and talk for a while before they moved to this point. He had braced himself for any reaction but this one. It had been two weeks, and he had failed to contact her. He was still coming to terms with the idea of being married. He figured Spring would be a little distant and cautious of his actions. At the moment, neither of them had a care in the world. Their only focus was each other.
Every worrisome thought he’d had flew out the window the moment Spring opened her front door. She was even more stunning than the last time he had seen her. Spring had answered the door in a sheer red blouse with a matching red lace bra underneath. Her cream pants clung to every curve of her ass and thighs. Her hair hung in soft, loose curls around her face and fell down her back. How was he supposed to function after seeing his minx standing in the door looking mouthwatering? Seeing her in that shirt blinded him, pushed aside any hesitations he may have had.
He had finally scrounged up the courage to face Spring and show her their marriage certificate. He was extremely afraid of what her reaction would be. They had drunk so much that night that he didn’t realize they had participated in the Wed-A-Thon. During all of the time that had passed, he hadn’t heard from Spring and could only assume she didn’t know about the marriage.
Bo wanted to assume she would be overjoyed, but he knew that was reaching. Hell, he had been reduced to crying when he saw the paper. He had mixed emotions about it. They had proclaimed their love for each other after meeting a few days earlier. That didn’t mean Spring wanted to be married to him. He couldn’t think about any of that now. Bo was too eager to be buried balls deep inside of her.
He had to have her now. There was one thing that tugged at him. He broke their heated kiss and breathed out heavily. “Is there anything cooking on the stove right this minute?”
Spring looked at him with confusion. It took her a few moments to register what Bo had said. She blinked slowly a few times before she came out of her sexual haze. “Everything is ready. Why?”
Why? She couldn’t be serious. It had been two of the longest weeks in his life, and he couldn’t wait another moment to touch her, taste her, and make her his all over again.
“We can talk later. I have to have you now, minx.” It was as if those words had lifted an invisible barrier from her shoulders.
“Okay.” That was all she could manage to utter before Bo attacked her mouth again.
There was a ripping sound as well as the sound of buttons flying all over the wooden floor of Spring’s foyer. Another shirt ruined. Spring tore her mouth from Bo’s and laughed.
“You have got to stop ripping up my shirts,” she said as she placed nipping bites along Bo’s jaw and neck.
“Ummm. I’m sorry, minx. I’ll buy you as many shirts as you’d like.” He tunneled his fingers through her hair to cup her head and brushed a kiss across her lips. “I need to be buried inside of you right now, baby. Where’s your bedroom?”
Spring wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him. “Last door on the left.” She buried her face in his neck, licking and tasting him as he strode down the hallway towards her bedroom.
Bo wasted no time stalking down the short hallway and into Spring’s bedroom. The only illumination in the room was from a small lamp on the nightstand next to her bed. That was all the light he needed. Bo pushed the door closed with his elbow and then made his way over to the bed. He placed Spring on her feet and stared at her.
“What?” She smiled nervously up at him as she rubbed her palms up and down the sides of her thighs. “What’s wrong?” Spring reached up to stroke the side of Bo’s face.
He turned and pressed his lips to her palm instead. “I’ve missed you, Spring. Just let me look at your beautiful face for a moment longer.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Bo.” Spring pulled her hand away and pulled the ruined red blouse off of her body. As she unfastened her red lace bra, she spoke again. “Nothing has changed for me. I still love you.”
She watched Bo’s eyes grow darker when her breasts fell from her bra. She let it slide to the floor while continuing to watch Bo watch her. He groaned at the sight before him.
“Do you like what you see, Bo?” she teased as her fingers rimmed the top of her slacks.
Bo wanted to rip all of her clothing off. She tested his patience. He was a walking time bomb waiting to get inside of her. But the sight of her teasing him as she undressed made it worth the wait. “I love you, too, Spring. Get those damned clothes off.”
Spring laughed as she unbuttoned her slacks and let them pool at her feet. She stood in front of Bo wearing only a red lace thong. And from the look in his eyes, he was going to eat her alive. She slid backwards on the bed as she watched Bo lick his lips in anticipation. She couldn’t believe she had avoided him for two weeks. She had to be nuts.
Chapter 12
Bo thought he would come in his pants at the sight of Spring in the red lace thong. It was so low on her it barely covered anything. What purpose did those things serve besides torturing the hell out of him? He began removing his clothes quickly as he watched Spring slide back onto the bed. When she turned over on her stomach and positioned herself on her hands and knees, he thought his knees would buckle.
Holy shit! He knew thongs slid between a woman’s bottom, but this thong was a sight to see. Bo couldn’t believe he was looking at a string of pearls sitting snuggly against the folds of her sweet, wet pussy and between her luscious cheeks.
“Oh, woman, you will be the death of me.” Bo’s voice was low and husky as he’d finished shucking the last of his clothing. “Damn, that is one beautiful sight.”
“I wore them just for you.”
“Good, because I have got to taste your pearls, minx.”
Bo stepped up close to the bed and ran a finger up and down the length of the pearls. He smiled when he heard Spring suck in a breath. He leaned forward and spread her cheeks apart and ever so slowly ran his tongue from her clit, where the pearls began, to the crack of her cheeks.
Spring clenched the covers for a moment and moaned. “Do that again.”
“Hmmm. How did that feel, Spring?” he asked as he caressed the pearls and her folds with
his fingers.
“It…it was surprising. Your tongue caused the pearls to massage my pussy and clit just like you would with your fingers.” She rocked her hips, trying to get him to lick her again. But Bo seemed mesmerized by the pearls. He kept stroking them. She needed him to stroke her.
Without any warning, Bo ran his tongue the entire length again. She was still just as responsive as the last time they had been together. As much as he would like to play with her pearls, he had to get them off of her. They were blocking his path. He had to touch, taste, and feel her heat with his fingers and tongue. He couldn’t wait to fall deep into her slick, overheated pussy. Two weeks had been too damned long. He pulled the thong down her hips and thighs.
“Turn on your back, baby.”
“Okay,” she whispered. She knew what was about to happen.
Bo finished removing the thong and tossed it to the floor with the rest of their clothing. “Move to the middle of the bed, Spring.”
“Okay.” She was barely breathing. Her body was on fire, and she could only remember the word “okay.” She could feel her juices flowing past her folds. How was it possible for her body to instantly burn and prepare itself for him? She knew the answer to that question. She belonged to him, heart, body, and soul. There was no point in denying it.
Bo climbed onto the bed. He positioned himself in front of Spring. He parted her legs, cupped her ass, and brought her pussy quickly to his mouth. He knew the move surprised her, and yet, the way her nipples pebbled let him know that she was just as turned on as he was. He watched her as his tongue reacquainted itself with the feel of her folds. She smelled sweet as honeysuckle and tasted even better than the last time he’d made love to her.
Bo wanted to take his time and relish every inch of her body. His cock, on the other hand, had different ideas. He held on just a little longer. He had to taste her. Bo used his thumbs to open her folds, watching her juices flow.
Give Me More Page 11