“What I think,” he said, tugging her chin up gently, “is that we’ve all done things we’re not proud of. Maybe it’s time we both forgive ourselves, and just let it go.” Beau’s gaze swung back to the water before flashing back to hers. “Maybe we just need to give it up to the river.”
PJ snorted. “Give it up to the river?”
He smiled sheepishly. “It’s something my brother, Ben, used to say.”
“That like a Hakuna Matata—type thing?”
“More or less.”
PJ’s eyes shimmered with mirth as she considered this. “Give it up to the river," she repeated solemnly. “I like it.” She nodded once, then her hand was fumbling near her waist in the dark. Before Beau could sort out what she was doing, the mermaid charm that had been tempting him for months was sailing through the air. All Beau could make out was a flash of silver before it hit the river with a barely audible plop.
“Damn.” Beau couldn’t hide a frown. He’d grown a bit obsessed with the little bauble.
PJ smirked as she bumped his hip with her own. “Guess you’ll just have to buy me some more cool bling.” She tapped the newly bared skin at her belly with the tip of a fingernail. “Here’s a hint, Browning. I like diamonds.”
Beau smiled, warming to this idea immediately. “I’ll remember that.” Then he cast one last glance at the water. “Guess she’ll just have to tempt some other sailor.”
“Yep,” PJ said with a giggle. “I’m thinking I’ve already caught mine.”
“You have no idea.” Beau twisted around, slipped his hand behind her neck, and tugged her in close, kissing her like he’d been longing to the whole day. His lips crashed into hers. His tongue parted hers hungrily. There was nothing gentle or teasing about this feasting. All he wanted was to taste this woman. And the hint of spice from the gumbo they’d consumed earlier did taste infinitely better coming from her mouth.
“God,” he said, when they finally came up for air. “This is crazy.”
“I know,” she agreed, breathing heavily as she swept a finger over her swollen lips.
Beau’s cock was stirring again.
And his heart was damn near pounding out of his chest. “It’s like drowning in the most wonderful feeling imaginable. I’m sunk, Pru. You have my heart.” He settled his hands about her cheeks, her beautiful face tilting slightly in his palms. “I love you.”
“I kinda had a feeling about that too.” Her words tumbled out on a squeak, her eyes watering as she sucked in another breath. “So why don’t you show me. ‘Cause I’m so done with waiting. I want you, Beau Browning. For the best reason imaginable.”
“And that would be…”
She smiled. “Because I love you too.”
Beau’s heart soared as he scrambled to his feet, hauling PJ up with him. Then he was momentarily blanking, just staring at her in the moonlight as he blinked back tears of his own. He’d had a plan earlier in the evening. Before the gumbo. Before the dancing. Before they’d bared their souls to each other under the stars. What was it? He couldn’t think. He could only feel, and the intensity of his emotions was suddenly overwhelming.
“Maybe we should get that room,” PJ whispered helpfully.
Yep. That was it. That was the plan he’d forgotten.
Beau kissed her again, fast and hard. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.” Then he grabbed her hand, and they were running for the house. PJ’s laughter echoing behind them was the most beautiful music he’d heard all night.
Chapter 38
The lower level of the house wasn’t entirely a shed. The second of the two doors PJ had noticed that morning opened into a separate living quarters, and as Beau fiddled with a dimmer switch on the wall, she took stock of the space.
The soft glow of lamplight from the ceiling fan slowly whirring to life above them revealed it to be small, maybe fifteen feet wide, but what the room lacked in size, it more than made up for in charm. The walls, painted an airy shade of aquamarine, were decorated with a series of free-floating shelves holding books, shells, bottles stuffed with ships, and a whimsical mix of other seafaring knickknacks. The furniture was sparse but similarly styled.
“I brought your stuff down earlier when you were helping Sarah in the kitchen.” Beau motioned to a white-washed wooden dresser on the wall opposite the door. Sitting on top was a sea-glass vase full of fragrant ivory blooms and PJ’s backpack crammed full of clothes and toiletries. “We can always take a room upstairs if you want. They’re bigger, but I thought this would be more…”
PJ walked over to the dresser and leaned down to sniff the roses. She glanced back to find Beau watching her with another one of those looks.
“… private,” he finished, his voice dropping to a husky murmur before he was stalking towards her, pressing his chest up against her back, and sniffing the side of her neck, inhaling the scent of her like he thought it was way better than the flowers. Beau’s breath rushed hot over her skin on the exhale, and the tickling sensation had her hair follicles exploding and her sex clenching simultaneously.
“I’m good here.” The words slipped out on a moan as he nipped at her skin.
“I was hoping you would be. ’Cause I want you all to myself.” Beau turned her in his arms so they were face to face, dark eyes searching hers with a hint of mischief and a whole lot of lust as he popped the snap on her jeans. “And I want you to feel free to come as loud and as often as you want. Sound good?”
It did. It so fucking did.
But PJ was having a hard time formulating a response because Beau already had her zipper down, her pants bunched mid-thigh, and his fingers were brushing over the wet spot staining her lilac satin boy shorts a deep plummy purple.
“I’ll take this as a yes,” he said hoarsely, his gaze riveted to the spot.
PJ managed a desperate whimper as she grabbed for the hem of his navy crew-neck. She pulled up just as he tugged down, and suddenly clothes were flying every which way. Jeans and flip-flops were kicked off, sliding across the tile floor in little heaps. T-shirts sailed through the air, landing fuck knows where as they both raced to get naked. Beau beat her to the finish line, yanking down his boxer briefs and severely impairing her ability to unfasten a bra.
Because damn.
It was perfect.
PJ hadn’t seen all that many penises, at least not in the flesh, but she knew enough to know that Beau Browning was packing the Goldilocks of dicks. It wasn’t freakishly long like Skate Park Mike’s, and it damn sure wasn’t small like Kenny Tuttle’s. It was just right. A good six inches and thick—
“Need help?”
PJ looked up to find Beau staring at her fingers. They were still poised between her breasts. “Sure. Whatever,” she murmured, her hands falling to her sides restlessly, her gaze shifting to the light dusting of hair on his pecs and the darker line of it below his abs that was pointing straight down to the cock she was itching to stroke.
But just as she’d made the decision to get a handle on that business, Beau hit the last of the four hooks on the front of her bra, her boobs sprang free, and the man let out an audible gasp that had her attention flying back up to his face.
“Wow.” Beau looked stunned, brown eyes almost black they were so dilated trying to take in all the dim light in the room as he stared slack-jawed at her breasts.
PJ knew they were impressively sized. She’d been wearing full-coverage bras since she’d come out of puberty with D cups, but Beau’s dumbstruck expression had her glancing down self-consciously. That’s when she saw the condition of her nipples. Normally when she was aroused, they were all pointy and stiff. Right now, they seemed to have been consumed by two super massive areolas occupying a freakish amount of real estate on her boobs.
“Damn!” she yelped, hopping back a little in surprise. “That’s weird.”
“Nope.” Beau shook his head, his hand already lifting to touch her. “This,” he said reverently, “is beautiful.” The pad of his index finger tra
ced around the swollen red disc on her left breast, sending lightning bolts of sensation charging through her flesh. Once, twice, three times he did it, and with every stroke, PJ’s heart was pounding harder, her breathing was getting heavier, and her panties were growing wetter than ever.
“Bed,” she managed between gasps.
“On it.” Beau steered her toward the opposite side of the room, where an aged brass bed frame with a king-sized mattress was stuffed under a window overlooking the river. There were maybe five inches of clearance on either side of the thing, so they had to climb in from the end of it, which wasn’t really a problem since it didn’t have a footboard.
But it did have a headboard. The kind with spindles. Sexy spindles perfectly sized for holding on to, and an oddly familiar pattern of starfish finials arching across the top. Crawling toward them, PJ was hit with the strangest sense of déjà vu. But in a blink the feeling was gone, and the only thing that remained was the excitement coursing through her as the breeze from the open window hit her face, and the heat radiating from Beau’s body chased her down from behind.
Strong hands settled about her hips, deftly flipping her onto her back. The move sent an assortment of throw pillows scattering to the sides to reveal a ribbon of strategically placed contraceptives. Glancing from the condoms to the man crawling over her, PJ couldn’t hold back a smirk. “So, I was probably gonna get laid even if I hadn’t danced with you and confessed my undying love, huh?”
“Yep.” Beau grinned, happiness wrinkling the corners of his eyes as he held himself above her. “But this is gonna be so much better ‘cause you did.”
He swooped down, raining little kisses on her tat-covered temples, freckly nose, and laughing mouth before moving on to her breasts. Then her giggles turned into whimpers as he cupped them in turns, sucking her big puffy nipples so deep she was grabbing his hair as the first stirrings of an orgasm fluttered to life in her pussy.
“Beau…” she cried out in warning.
He peered up at her. “You ready?”
“Fuck, yes.”
He scooted down her body. Her underwear came down with him. He tossed them aside, then knelt between her legs, getting an eyeful of the tiny patch of curls leftover from her wax job the night before, and the cute little tattoo she’d added to the freshly bared skin above her pubic bone: a kitty licking its paws.
Beau seemed to get the visual clue because he pushed her knees up, spreading her open so there was no way to hide just how ready she was. Then he smiled at her once more before dropping his head and diving right in.
PJ arched her back at the first nudge of his nose, sank her fingers into his hair at the first sweep of his tongue. She’d never had a guy do this to her before. She’d dreamed of it often, read about in plenty of books, but the reality of it far exceeded the fantasy because Beau was clearly enjoying himself. Or rather, he was clearly enjoying her as he worked over her slit with growls of appreciation that reverberated straight through to her core, ratcheting up the tension she could feel building by the second.
“Damn, you taste good,” he said between licks, one hand coming off her thigh to toy with the slippery little button throbbing between her legs.
PJ moaned, both hands flying up to grab hold of the bars behind her so she didn’t end up scalping the man now sucking the hell out of her clit. That’s when he sank two fingers inside her, rubbing a spot just under it as he bit down with the slightest hint of pressure on her most sensitive part. As soon as she felt his teeth, PJ blew, gushing as the pleasure detonated, thighs squeezing around his head as they shook, and screaming as loud as she wanted as she came.
It took several seconds to come down from it. PJ’s heart raced, her body tweaked, and when her legs finally fell back to the mattress they felt like limp spaghetti noodles. And all the while, Beau was watching her with a sheen of sweat on his face and a smile glistening from the fruit of her orgasm.
Fuuuuck. Apparently, she was both a screamer and a squirter.
“Another first?” he asked, wiping the little droplets from his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Uhm, yeah.” PJ’s cheeks flamed. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Are you kidding me?” Beau’s grin widened. “Female ejaculation is like the holy grail of sex, Pru. That was awesome. Just warning you now, I’m gonna be cocky as hell about this for a while.”
PJ snorted as she studied him sitting back on his calves, knees splayed, penis jutting up proudly. “Well, you got the cocky part right. Think maybe we should take care of that?”
Beau needed no further encouragement. He grabbed the ribbon of condoms, tore one open with his teeth, and quickly suited up. PJ sat up on her elbows to watch. Noticing her interest, Beau tossed her a throw pillow.
“Thanks,” PJ said as she made herself comfortable. She didn’t want to miss a thing; she’d been waiting for this moment for too long. Beau seemed to be feeling the same way because once he had the condom on, he swatted her hip with one hand while sliding another pillow towards it with the other. PJ lifted up so he could get the cushion under her. Then she settled back down, raised just enough for Beau to wrap his arms around her thighs and line up properly.
She could feel the blunt tip of him, could see it poised at her entrance. And this was enough to make PJ spasm again, the ripply flesh between her legs visibly contracting. And if she could see this, she knew Beau, who had an even better view of the situation, most definitely could.
He looked up at her, their eyes locked, and he smiled. That same beautiful smile that was so full of joy, and wonder, and love.
Then he drove into her body in one perfect thrust. PJ cried out at the pressure, elbows digging into the mattress, fingers clenching around handfuls of quilt.
“You okay?” Beau paused, holding himself still with amazing restraint. Amazing because he was balls-deep inside her, her ripply bits now stretched taut around the root of him, and her vagina was already pulsing around his shaft as another orgasm brewed.
“Uuuuhm. Think I’m gonna come again.”
“Fuck. Yes.” Beau gripped her thighs harder, rocked his hips back, and powered back in. His pubic bone hit her clit, the weight of his balls smacked into her ass, and PJ could feel little sparks zinging through her pelvis.
“More,” she whimpered, her hands flying back up to those bars. Only now she needed them for the counter pressure, to anchor herself every time he bottomed out, because every time he did, she got the sparks again.
“So good, so good,” Beau chanted, his thrusts picking up speed, a trickle of sweat slipping down his temple as he stared at the spot where they were joined. “I knew you would be.”
Those five little words of praise, uttered openly and honestly in the heat of the moment, were all it took to trigger PJ’s second orgasm. This one tore through her entire body: curling her toes, shooting up her spine, and ripping another moan from her throat.
Beau waited through the stronger of her contractions, his jaw clenched, low grunts of pleasure slipping free every time her pussy squeezed down around him. But when her body had mostly stilled, he started moving again. Once, twice, three times he slammed into her before planting himself deep and announcing his own release with a guttural shout. Then he let go of her thighs, rocked forward, and collapsed on top of her.
The weight of him was wonderful. The warmth of every part of him touching every part of her was everything PJ needed in that moment. She locked her feet below his butt, wrapped her arms about his back, and hugged him fiercely as the tremors died down, and the hardness lodged inside her began to soften.
They were quiet for a couple minutes, both so blissed out it was hard to process anything, but gradually, PJ became aware of the wetness seeping out of her, the warm trickle of it dripping down her ass onto the beautiful patchwork they were lying on. She cringed, tapping the man holding her pinned.
“Beau?”
“Hmmmm?”
“I think I might have had another emission.”
“Emission?” Beau was sounding very slow on the uptake as he nuzzled the side of her hair.
“Yeah. I need you to get up off me. I’m oozing lady juices all over one of your mama’s quilts.”
Beau snorted as she unlocked her limbs. Then he pushed up on one arm, reached down with the other, and carefully pulled out of her. “It’ll wash. It’s no” — he looked down, his sleepy expression growing alert real fast — ”big deal.”
PJ followed his gaze and frowned. The tear in the condom was small, but there was enough leaking out of the tip of it for PJ to know with absolute certainty that her lady juices weren’t the problem.
“Shit.” Beau paled as he caught sight of the thin rope of semen clinging to her right thigh. “Please tell me you’re on the pill.”
“Yeah,” PJ said quickly, “since Baylor. Don’t worry. Never miss a dose. It really helps with the acne—” But even as the words rambled out, PJ realized with a sinking feeling that they weren’t entirely true. She had missed one dose. The night of her birthday, the night of her impromptu sleepover at Beau’s, she hadn’t had her pill pack with her—
“Pru?”
PJ blinked, the mess on her lap suddenly coming into focus.
“We good?” Beau asked cautiously.
She looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah. We’re good.” There was no way she was going to freak the man out further by bringing up a missed birth control pill from a month ago. Her chances of conceiving weren’t any higher than normal. She’d been rock solid with her medication ever since.
Although, she hadn’t yet taken one tonight. PJ shifted up in the bed, just as Beau sat down in front of her feet with a sigh. “Uhm, I need my bag,” she mumbled. “I’m due for my pill.”
Beau sprang off the bed like it was on fire, the leaky condom still hanging from his dick. “I’ll get it. Let me grab you some water from the bathroom.”
He disappeared through a door on the opposite side of the room, and a minute later PJ heard the toilet flushing followed by the sound of the faucet. PJ grimaced as another rush of stickiness oozed out of her, but before she could even sit up, Beau had returned with her backpack, a towel, and a glass of water.
Pretty Jane (The Browning Series Book 3) Page 27