by Abbi Glines
“Harder, Beau. Please, I want you to fuck me harder,” Ashton begged.
She’d just said “fuck.” I pulled back and took several deep breaths. I was going to come. I had to hold back. I couldn’t come yet. But holy hell she’d just told me to fuck her. I wasn’t ever going to be able to hold back if she started talking like that.
“Ash, baby. I’m gonna fuck you real good, sweetheart. But I am so close to coming right now. You can’t say things like that to me,” I explained as I eased back into her. How did she feel even more perfect than the first time? The wet warmth was so intense this time.
Ash put her hands on each side of my face and lifted her hips so I sank deeper into her. The heat in her eyes caused me to tremble. “Fuck me hard, Beau Vincent.”
She’d pushed me too far. I let out a growl and began pumping into her with no control. Her loud cry reminded me that I wasn’t wearing a fucking condom. That’s why she felt so damn wet and hot against my dick. I had no barrier. Dammit! Pulling out of her, I slipped my hand into her and let her ride the rest of her orgasm out while I covered my release with my other hand.
Ashton Grey was going to kill me.
Chapter 10
ASHTON
Ashton,
You haven’t written me back so either this means my e-mail never got through, which is believable with the unreliable Internet access here, or something is wrong. I tried calling several times, but I can’t seem to get any signal out here no matter where I am.
I’ve got good news and bad news. Bad news is Catherine had an allergic reaction to some unknown plant and she broke out in hives and Dad had to rush her to the nearest town. He just got back an hour ago and she’s going to be fine, but Mom is ready to go home.
That leads me to the good news. I’m coming home. We are packing as I write this, and as soon as I’m in cell phone reception range, I’m going to call you. Keep your phone on you. I need to hear your voice. Also, call Beau for me and tell him I’m coming home. He and I can hit the weight room a week early to get ready for football practice. Also, tell him to lay off the beer. I need my best receiver in shape.
Love ya,
Sawyer
I stared at the screen of my laptop for a long time. I wasn’t sure what to do. Who to tell. Where to go. Slowly I closed the computer and shoved it off my lap and onto the bed. I’d woken up knowing I was going to have to deal with my parents’ questions this morning about leaving the church with Beau last night. It was something I had dreaded, but this was much worse. The screen on my phone lit up before “Eye of the Tiger” began to play for the first time in three weeks. Sawyer had put “Eye of the Tiger” on my phone to be his special ring. Numbly I reached for it and pressed the accept button before lifting it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Ahhh, man, baby, is it good to hear your voice. Did you get my e-mail? I waited to call until I thought you might be awake. We’re about two hours away. I’m having Dad drop me off at your house. I can’t wait to see you.” Guilt, frustration, anger, and panic all seemed to whirl around inside me at once. My grip on the phone tightened as I took several deep breaths.
“Um, hey, yeah, I just got your e-mail. I can’t believe y’all are coming home early.” The lack of enthusiasm in my voice was unmistakable. A second of silence ticked by, and I knew Sawyer’s brain was working overtime.
“Did you just wake up? You don’t sound real happy about my coming home. I expected squeals of delight or something.”
Perfect, make him suspicious before he even gets here. I needed to fix this. I couldn’t come between Beau and Sawyer. They’d been as close as brothers all their lives. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I caused a rift between them. The fact that I was worried about Beau and Sawyer’s relationship instead of my and Sawyer’s surprised me.
“Sorry, I’m thrilled. I just woke up. Last night was Grana’s viewing and her funeral is this afternoon. It’s been a rough few days.”
“What? Ash, baby. Your Grana passed away? Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?” I’d forgotten he didn’t know. The e-mail I never wrote him flashed in my memory. Instead of telling him about Grana, I’d run to Beau. Would any of that have happened if I’d just e-mailed Sawyer and gone with Mom to deal with funeral arrangements that day? Did I wish things had happened differently?
“It wasn’t something I wanted to write in an e-mail,” I explained, hoping he understood or, at the very least, accepted my excuse.
“I’m coming home. I’ll rush to the house and change before I come over so I won’t have to leave before the funeral. I can drive you there. It’s going to be okay. I’ll be there soon. I promise.”
How would he feel if I told him things were okay? Beau had helped me say my good-bye already. Beau had held me while I cried. My tears were dried up now. I knew Grana was happy with those fancy streets of gold and a fabulous mansion. She always said God would give her a big ole rose garden she could tend to up there.
“Ash, you okay?”
“I’m sorry. I was thinking about the funeral. I’ll see you when you get here.”
“Okay. I love you.” Those were the words we always said when we hung up the phone. Normally, I was the one who said them first. This time I’d completely forgotten.
“Love you, too,” I replied dutifully before hanging up.
I did love him. I always had, just not the way I should. Deep down I’d always known something was wrong between us. Until these last few weeks with Beau, I hadn’t really been able to put my finger on what was missing in our relationship. With Beau, I could be me and he loved me. Sawyer loved the me I worked very hard to be. If Sawyer knew the real me, the girl he thought I’d left behind with my childhood, he’d never love me. He couldn’t. But I couldn’t be with Beau. I could never choose him over Sawyer. It would rip apart a lifetime of friendship. Sawyer had been the one to take care of Beau as a kid. He looked out for him and shared his wealth with him. Even now Sawyer guarded Beau from so many things. Just last year the coach was going to kick Beau off the football team for showing up to practice with a hangover. Sawyer had begged the coach and promised to personally make sure Beau walked the straight and narrow on practice and game days. Beau needed Sawyer. I couldn’t get between them.
I threw the pillow I’d been squeezing in my arms across the room and growled in frustration. This was ridiculous. I was ridiculous. How could I have let myself do this? What had I been thinking? I’d let myself care too much about Beau Vincent. I didn’t just care about him; I wanted him. It was the worst thing in the world I could’ve done. Having him meant ripping away the only family he cared about. I’d have the whole town talking about him and hating him for stealing Sawyer’s girl. It was impossible. The whole stupid situation.
“Honey, are you awake?” Dad’s voice called from the other side of my closed door. I let out a sigh. This was the talk I’d been dreading: the pointless talk, the one he didn’t even have to waste his breath on.
“Yeah, Dad, come in,” I replied.
My door opened, and there he stood with the small frown on his face I rarely saw directed at me. He walked inside and stopped at the end of my bed. His arms were crossed over his chest, and I could smell his aftershave. The same kind he’d been wearing all my life.
“What exactly happened last night?” He was direct and to the point. I had to give him that. I sat up straight on my bed and stared right back at him. I needed to cover this up. Smooth it over. Beau’s acceptance in this town and his relationship with Sawyer depended on it.
“I take it you’re referring to Beau Vincent?” As if I had to ask this. Dad’s eyebrows shot up as if he thought I might be losing my mind to even think he could be referring to something else.
“Yes, Ashton, I am.”
I sighed, shook my head, and even threw in an eye roll for dramatic effect. “Beau’s my friend. We grew up together. He’s my boyfriend’s cousin and best friend. Sawyer wasn’t there, I was dealing with one o
f the hardest things in my life, and Beau showed up to step in and help me. He loves Sawyer and knew it was what Sawyer would’ve wanted him to do. Besides, Beau knows how close I was to Grana. He used to sit on her porch and eat her cookies with me. Remember, back then when the fact that his mama was a cocktail waitress at a bar wasn’t an issue?”
The bitterness in my voice was unavoidable. Dad’s eyebrows snapped together. He didn’t like my tone of voice, but I could see he was thinking about my excuse. I waited, quietly praying he believed it. After what felt like an eternity, he nodded and let out a heavy sigh.
“I understand this has been hard on you. With Sawyer gone and your mom and me busy dealing with funeral arrangements and relatives coming in from out of town, we haven’t been here for you. I appreciate the fact Beau noticed you needed someone and stepped in. However, Beau Vincent isn’t the kind of boy I want you associating with. He’s Sawyer’s cousin and when Sawyer’s around, then it’s fine. But Beau isn’t from good stock. His daddy was a wild card and his mama’s white trash. You can get a bad reputation spending time with the likes of him. Bad company corrupts good character. Remember that.”
I wanted to stand up and yell to the rooftops that he didn’t know anything about Beau’s stock. It didn’t matter who his parents were. Blaming the child for the parents’ sins was wrong. Didn’t the Bible he read daily discuss judging people and forgiveness? I bit down on my tongue until I tasted blood in an attempt to keep from screaming out in frustration.
“Who called you so early?” Dad asked, eyeing the phone I’d thrown down beside my pillow.
“Sawyer,” I said. Obvious relief washed over his face. He really needed to get out of here before I lost it.
“Really? How’s he doing?”
“He’s on his way home. He’ll be here in time for the funeral.”
Dad smiled brightly, making a sick knot form in my stomach.
“Well, good, good. I’m glad he’s coming home for Grana’s funeral. He’s such a good boy.” With a pleased look, Dad turned and left the room, closing my door behind him. I glared at the shut door the way I wish I could have glared at him.
This was exactly why I couldn’t allow my feelings for Beau to completely screw up his life even more. I wasn’t good for him. If I chose Beau then he lost Sawyer. He needed family. I couldn’t fill that void for him. My heart ached in my chest because I knew what I had to do. I also knew hurting Beau in order to save him was going to kill me. I’d done this. I’d messed everything up because I hadn’t been able to stay away from him. Now, it was time I fixed it.
* * *
I pulled the car onto the gravel driveway before cutting the ignition. Beau’s truck was the only vehicle parked outside his trailer. His mother wasn’t there. That was the only good thing about this visit. I needed to do this alone. Sawyer would be in town within the next thirty minutes. I’d have come sooner, but after my talk with Dad this morning, I decided it was best to wait until he left for the church.
My chest hurt. I pressed the palm of my hand against my heart, trying to ease the pain. There had to be a limit to the amount of heartbreak one person could suffer in a week. Surely, God could see I’d met my limit? I needed a miracle. A bitter laugh bubbled up inside me at the thought of God helping me with this situation. God didn’t help girls get the bad boys. But Beau wasn’t bad inside. Not really. He acted the only way he knew how. He was raised by a waitress at a bar who jumped from one man’s bed to another regardless of his marital status. No one had tried to teach Beau the right way to act. Inside he was a wonderful person. He was caring, sensitive, funny, patient, and understanding. He was accepting. Something no one in my life had ever been other than Grana.
The door on the trailer swung open, and Beau stepped out onto the top step and stared out at me. The only thing on his body was a pair of low riding jeans. Even his feet were bare. I swallowed the tears in my throat. I had gone there to end things, and it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my body before I’d even said a word. As if in slow motion, I reached for the door handle of my car and stepped out onto the gravel. Our eyes met as I closed the door.
A frown replaced the sexy smile on his face. He could read me so well. He’d always known what I was thinking. When we were kids, I never had to tell him when I was upset. He knew it and he was trying to fix it before Sawyer had a clue my fragile female feelings had been injured. He didn’t move. Instead he watched me as I put one foot in front of the other, wishing more than anything in the world I didn’t have to do this. Just this once I wanted to be selfish and take what I wanted. Forget about the repercussions and throw myself into Beau’s arms. I wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted to kiss his face right there, standing in front of his trailer, for anyone who had their noses pressed to their windows to see. I wanted to claim Beau as mine, but I couldn’t do any of those things. Our fairy tale would never work. He’d lose Sawyer. The town would hate him instead of just mumbling about him turning out just like his dad. My father would never accept him. I’d probably be locked in my room or sent off to an all-girls’ school. No one would allow this. I couldn’t let Beau know why. He was braver than I was. He would fight for me. He would lose what little he had in this stupid town for me, and for nothing. My parents would never let it happen. I had to let him go. What I wanted wasn’t important. Beau’s future was.
“Something tells me this isn’t the kind of visit I’d been hoping for when I saw that little white car pull up.” His voice sounded tight.
I fought to keep the tears stinging the back of my eyes from rolling down my face. I had to do this. It was for the best. Beau’s best.
“He’s coming home today,” I said through the thickness in my throat.
Beau stepped back and motioned for me to step inside. I dropped my gaze from his and walked into his trailer for the last time. I’d never be able to come back. Not with Sawyer. I wouldn’t be able to forget the breakfast we’d shared over his kitchen table. The laughter and the way his jaw worked when he chewed. I’d been fascinated watching him eat that morning. Then last night. I’d never be able to forget last night and the things we’d done in this room. In his bedroom. In the hallway. Oh God, how was I supposed to let him go?
The door closed behind me, and I stood staring at the empty table. A box of opened cereal sat on the table by an empty bowl. Beau’s arms slipped around my waist. I knew I should step away, but I couldn’t make myself. This was home. Being in his arms like this was where I found peace. Knowing this was the last time he would ever touch me made the moment bittersweet. I inhaled deeply soaking in his smell, his warmth, the feel of his hands against my stomach.
“We knew this day was coming. It’s just sooner than expected. I’ve been thinking about it, and I want you to let me talk to him. I think I can.”
“No,” I said, stopping him. I had to say something before he said too much. His planning was pointless. There was nothing to plan.
He turned me around to face him then slipped his hands through my hair. I watched helplessly as his head lowered until his lips touched mine. I knew I needed to stop him, but all I could do was kiss him back greedily. The soft rumbling moan in his chest made my knees weak. Closing my eyes tightly, I pushed away from him.
“I can’t be with you, Beau.” I didn’t open my eyes. Seeing his face as I said the words I knew had to be said would kill me. He didn’t speak or reach out to touch me. I knew he was waiting on me to finish. I took a shaky breath. “I love Sawyer. I can’t hurt him. I’m sorry.” There was so much more I wanted to say. So many things I’d practiced on the way over here, but the lump in my throat was fighting against me.
“Okay,” he replied in almost a whisper.
Slowly I lifted my head and opened my eyes to see his face. “Okay” wasn’t exactly what I’d expected from him. My breath caught as I took in his expression. He didn’t look hurt. He didn’t even appear upset. Instead he looked . . . bored. I was fighting off the need to snot cry all over myself
and he was completely unfazed. There was no relief. My heart shattered.
Could it all have meant so little to him? He’d said he loved me. Why would he lie about that? I watched as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and started texting someone. I wanted to scream at him to show some emotion. To show me he cared for me. That this was hard for him, too. I’d thought he would fight for me.
His hazel eyes lifted to glance at me. “I need to make a call. If that’s all you needed . . .” He nodded his head toward the door as if asking me to leave. Numbly I walked past him without a word. He didn’t even say good-bye.
Chapter 11
BEAU
The moment I heard Ashton’s car crank, I threw my phone against the wall. It fell to the floor in pieces. I knew how it felt. Shattered. Broken. Destroyed. I’d been so sure she loved me. Even though she’d never uttered the words, I’d been so damn sure she wanted me—not my perfect, polished cousin. Never before in my life had I hated Sawyer, but right now, I hated him. I hated him for taking her. I hated him for controlling her. I hated him because he had her love.
A roar filled the room, and I barely recognized the angry snarl coming from my mouth. I wouldn’t be able to stay here. How could I watch them? How could I go to school and see him touch her? Hold her hand? Oh God, kiss her mouth! Did she care that she’d just destroyed me? Had this all been a little game to her? Pass the time with the bad boy while the prince is away?
“Damn it, Ash.”
My mangled cell phone began ringing. Panicked, I thought it could be her, that she could’ve changed her mind, so I ran over to it and fumbled with the battery, holding it in place while I pressed the accept button several times before it worked. The screen was black.
“Hello?”
“Guess who’s home early and ready to get your lazy ass in the gym and pump weights first thing in the morning?” Sawyer’s chipper voice came over the line, and I fought the instinct to throw the phone against the wall again. What did I say to him? How did I begin to act like I was happy he was home?