“Jesus.” Beau was going to come soon. No way was he lasting long enough to get her off with this kind of action.
“See,” she said, her strokes slowing to teasing little passes as she grinned. “I can be good.” Her fingers slipped to his balls, glittery black nails feathering over the delicate skin there. “I can be gentle.” She released him, and Beau moaned at the torment as she raised the three middle fingers of her right hand in a pledge. “I have made peace with the testicle. Your nuts are the nuts. I am in love with your junk.”
There it was. That brash, irreverent sense of humor he needed so damn much.
Beau grabbed her wicked, wonderful hand and hauled PJ up his torso, groaning as the soft skin of her belly dragged over his erection. Then he found her mouth and made his own kind of pledge. And when they finally came up for air, he whispered the words again because he needed to say them. “I love you.”
Her eyes were like midnight, sucking him in as they always did. “Love you too.”
Beau kissed her once more, then reached for their stash of condoms.
And that’s when he hesitated… because suddenly he realized he didn’t want to use one, and this was a little scary because he’d never not used one. Not consciously anyways. But he wanted this with her. He wanted this first. He wanted to feel all of her, and he wanted her to feel all of him.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, seeming to understand what he was thinking as his hand stilled under the pillow. “I’m current on my pills, but I understand if you want to be extra careful. I totally get it. If it makes you more comfortable—”
“I’m pretty fucking positive, I’ll be more comfortable going without.”
“Alrighty then.” She smiled again, gnawing at her lip as she flushed. “But maybe we should move this along. My period’s due any hour now, and I don’t want to, uhm…”
Beau chuckled, understanding now why she’d hesitated earlier. She didn’t want to bleed on him. Beau didn’t give a fuck if she did. Hell, the caveman in him would probably dig it. But PJ didn’t seem too into it, so he’d respect her wishes and move things right along.
“Straddle me,” he said, pushing on her shoulders gently. PJ grinned and shimmied back down his torso. And there was that friction again. And the heat when she took him in hand and lined up. And, fuck, he was dying. Then she was sinking down on him slowly, and Beau was praying, or praising God’s holy name, or something. Because this was friction, and he wasn’t sure he could ever go back to putting a barrier between his dick and the perfection of all the hot wet muscles baring down on it now.
“N-not gonna last.” He barely managed the warning as she lifted back up. “Too… damn… good.”
PJ sank down again, her eyes fluttering closed for only a second as she seated him fully and stilled. Then she let out the softest little sigh of agreement, like connecting on this level felt just as amazing to her as it did to him. When her eyes opened again, she was smiling.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Just let me do this for you.”
Fuuck. This woman was amazing. She’d given him the ultimate in comfort food. And now she was giving him the ultimate in comfort sex. Because make no mistake, after a long rough day at the office, there was just nothing better than coming home to a woman who loved you and was completely down with riding your cock to peaceful oblivion while you kicked back and watched.
Still, he’d grown rather addicted to the feel of her clamping down on him when she came, so Beau was going to do his damnedest to get her off in the next fifteen seconds. His right hand shifted from its grip on her hip, determination in the two fingers zoning in on her most sensitive spot.
PJ grabbed them, kissed them, and settled them on her boob, winking at Beau as she braced her left hand on his chest and brought her right between her thighs to put on a show of her own. And Beau watched with greedy, fascinated eyes as she rubbed, and lifted, and dropped, and rocked, and rubbed some more. PJ came fast and hard again, grinding into him as she played with her clit, and he played with her big beautiful tits.
She moaned, her hand coming back up to smack down on his pec.
He gritted his teeth, the rhythmic pulsing around his penis driving him over the edge.
Beau couldn’t hold back any longer. The caveman was taking over. He gripped PJ’s hips, fingers digging into lush curves as he lifted her up and yanked her back down several more times before he felt the familiar tightening in his balls. Then with a grunt, he was filling her up, jolts of pleasure hitting him as he gripped her ass even harder. They faded in seconds, but it was a solid minute before Beau’s heart rate died down, and his limbs lost that boneless sensation.
PJ seemed to be feeling the same way because she’d collapsed warm and limp on his chest. She also seemed to become aware of the mess they were making because her nose wrinkled as he oozed out of her. “Okay, so condoms do have some other bennys,” she muttered, climbing off of him gingerly and wincing at his quilt.
Beau smirked. “Guess you’re just gonna have to get used to doing more laundry, woman.”
“Fuck you, Browning. I’m outtie.”
Beau laughed as PJ scampered off the bed, holding her pussy so she didn’t leak all over the floor on her way to the bathroom. Then he grabbed his boxers from the nightstand, wiped off, and rolled from the bed.
By the time he’d changed into a clean pair of underwear and shoved the soiled quilt into the washing machine, PJ was back. She crawled into his bed dressed in her FunWorld T-shirt and some panties that exposed the lower swells of her ass. Beau settled in beside her, pulled her in close, and just reveled in the snuggle.
He didn’t say anything for a long time. But when he finally did, Beau told PJ about his rough day at the office. He told her about the funny old lady who’d used to drive him crazy with all her matchmaking. He told her about how Artemia Wells was the matriarch of a big Southern family who Beau had never actually met, but he felt like he kind of knew because she’d spent so much time trying to hook him up with so many of them.
He told PJ about Kylie, the granddaughter who’d married the guy in the governor’s office even though he was a Republican, and Sue Ellen, the granddaughter with the buck teeth who’d grown into a supermodel, and Moira Ann, the niece who played the cello and had really flexible limbs. He told her about Lena the hairdresser, who was on a man phase, and thanks to Artemia, thought Beau looked like Clint Eastwood’s boy.
PJ had giggled at this, telling Beau she thought Artemia had been a little off in her assessment. According to PJ, he looked like a “slightly less hot version of Chris Hemsworth.”
Beau had let that one slide because of the super awesome power of the snuggle. Then he’d told her about how he was going back to his old church for the first time in years because Artemia’s family had seen fit to invite her favorite accountant to the memorial service they were holding for her tomorrow.
“What time does it start?” PJ asked him now. “Maybe I can go with you.”
“5:30.”
PJ groaned beside him. “Shit. I’ve got Thelma’s session then.” She popped up on her elbow, her expression determined. “But I’ll cancel it—”
“No way. Thelma needs you.”
PJ rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. I have a feeling that chick’s gonna be mastering out of the program at Journeys real soon. Hell, she’ll probably be running it one day. She totally manipulated me into doing an off-site session with her at Finkerton, so she can lust after their quarterback during the varsity game.”
Beau chuckled. “Who are the Falcons playing?”
“Prep,” PJ said, her tone a little guilty.
“Doesn’t Latimoore QB for the Jags?”
“Yep.”
“Shit.” If Troy was playing, then chances were pretty high his buddy Wade would be lurking somewhere in the stands, and Beau didn’t like that one bit. “I’ll cancel. Gladys can go to the service to represent the firm—”
“No, you won’t. It sounds to me
like Artemia was a kick-ass lady, and her family wouldn’t have asked you to come if she didn’t think you were kick-ass too. You have to go.”
Beau sighed. He’d been ambivalent about showing up at East Baton Rouge Evangelical again, but PJ was right. Artemia hadn’t been just a client. She’d been a friend. And he needed to pay his respects.
“I’ll be fine,” PJ whispered as she settled back into the snuggle.
“Alright,” Beau said finally. “But I’m picking you up from the game.”
“Deal.” PJ yawned out the word as she closed her eyes. Several minutes later, she was snoring softly.
Beau wasn’t so quick to lose consciousness. As boneless and satiated as his body felt, anxiety over what the next day might bring weighed heavily on his mind. It was nearly an hour before he joined PJ in the peaceful oblivion of sleep.
Chapter 42
PJ: Sup Andy, need your advice. Remember how I was telling u bout the boy my girl Thelma has the hots for at school well apparently he’s low key lusting after her too and I’m not sure what to do with the situation on account of her being on the spectrum and he’s not and she’s only 15 and Jeremiah’s 16 but he’s cut like a 26 yr old (I know this cause I am havin relations with a 26 year old who is extremely cut though you can’t always tell on account of the sweater vests) so that basically makes Jeremiah more like 21 if you average the two numbers so wouldn’t that make Thelma jail bait and also why the hell is J tryna hit it with T when he’s taking some other chick to prom??! I am suspicious as—
PJ: fuck. (sorry accidentally hit send) Anyhow… I’m meeting T at Finkerton tonight cause she wants to see her boy even though she hates football as much as I hate writing and dancing in public (though I’m warmin up to the dancing business :) So basically: she reaaaalllllly likes him and I’m worried he’s gonna break her heart and then I’m gonna have to break his nose cause aunt flo is due any hour now and I’m hormonal as fuc—
PJ stopped mid-text to stare at the phone ringing in her hand. Andy was calling her. PJ glanced at her clock. It was 11:30 Friday morning, and she’d just spent the past two hours either rambling to her cat, obsessively checking for her missed period, or surfing the net for advice on “ASD teens and dating.” And now she’d gone and blown up her friend’s phone, and Andy was probably in school.
“Hello?” she said tentatively.
“Hello,” Andy answered calmly.
“You in class?”
“No. I’m sitting outside the student union eating a yogurt parfait. I dug out the oatmeal bits with my spoon because they tasted mushy instead of crunchy. I think they sat too long. They should really be sealed in a bag on the side.”
PJ grinned as Dinah hopped up on her bed for her usual lick fest. “The JC’s over there in SoCal having some quality control issues on the food tip?”
“A few.”
PJ chuckled. Her nineteen-year-old friend, having made up the grade she’d been held back in primary school by skipping a year of secondary, had already managed to complete most of her first year of junior college… while holding down both a part-time job and an apartment. The chick was truly “higher-functioning” than most of PJ’s peers who weren’t on the spectrum. Hopefully, her highly intelligent friend could share some sage words of advice regarding PJ’s other highly intelligent friend. “So what do you think about my text?” PJ asked.
“I think you have a problem with your periods.”
“No, I don’t.” PJ popped up from her pillow. Dinah scrambled. “Aunt Flo is due any hour now. I already said that—”
Andy giggled. “No, silly. I meant your punctuation. You do realize the vast majority of your text was a run-on sentence? How did you manage to pass the HiSET again?”
“Barely,” PJ said dryly. “Now, how about some advice on the Thelma problem, smartass. I need to know whether I should encourage this thing with her and Jeremiah, or should I scare the guy off? Honestly, I’m leaning towards the latter because I’m really good at that shit—”
Andy giggled again.
“What?” PJ asked, a smile growing at the musical laughter tickling her ear. She hadn’t heard it in a while. It was nice. Maybe she should lay off the texting and actually call her friend a little more often.
Andy quieted with a sigh. Then there was a faint whooshing sound, as though something were being dumped in a garbage can. “I always liked talking to you at Baylor,” she said.
PJ tensed as Dinah eyeballed her from the safety of the dresser. In all their texts over the years, Andy had never once brought up Baylor, and for her to do so now, while they were actually speaking to one another, was a big deal, and PJ wasn’t quite sure what to say. Strangely, her far more introverted friend didn’t seem to be having the same problem.
“A lot of girls confused me in middle school,” Andy said. “Their mouths would be saying one thing, but their expressions would be saying something else. High school didn’t get much better. But I never had that problem with you. You always said what you meant. And you never talked down to me or gave me the weird look.”
“The weird look?”
“People sometimes make this face when they find out I’m autistic, like they’re staring at a fish in a tank and they kind of want to tap on the glass. It’s annoying.”
“Yeah, that would be.”
“Is that how Jeremiah looks at Thelma?”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was too busy checking out her boobs yesterday.”
Andy snorted. “Did Thelma seem to mind?”
“Nope.”
“Then what’s the problem? I don’t understand why you’re so upset they’re flirting.”
PJ frowned, her grip on the phone tightening. “What if he’s only pretending to be interested, so he can get close enough to take advantage? What if Jeremiah’s just like Wade?”
Andy was silent for several seconds before drawing in a breath. When she spoke again, her voice was sad but steady. “Not all guys are like that.”
“I know,” PJ said quietly.
“I never thanked you for helping me that day at Baylor.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.” Andy sighed. “The truth is, when Wade kissed me at the courts… I liked it at first. He did taste a little like hot dogs, but I forgave him for that because he was saying all these nice things, and he had strong arms, and his hair smelled really good. But then, all of a sudden, he was confusing me, and pushing me, and I got scared.”
“I know,” PJ said again. “I saw that part.”
“I kind of wish you hadn’t. It was embarrassing. But mostly, I’m really glad you showed up when you did because otherwise I might have had to bite down on Wade’s… hot dog.” PJ had to hold back a giggle as Andy made a retching sound. “I’d rather eat soggy granola,” she continued in disgust. “Oral is gross.”
PJ flushed as she thought about that drive home from the boathouse with Beau. “Uhm… maybe you’ll change your mind one day with the right guy?”
“Probably not. But I think I could go for backdoor, reverse cowgirl, or sideways sex. Those all sound pretty good.” Andy said this like she were ordering from a menu, and PJ could no longer contain a snort of laughter.
“Alright, I think we’re straying pretty far off topic here,” she told her friend ruefully. “So, how do you think I should play it tonight with Thelma and Jeremiah?”
“I don’t know.”
“What?!”
“I’ve gotta go. My first class starts in five minutes.”
“You suck.”
“Nope. Actually, I do not. I think we just covered that.” Andy giggled mischievously. Then she was busting up on the phone, laughing harder than PJ had ever heard her. PJ rolled her eyes and laughed too because the joke was just so terrible, but so very needed. It settled something between them, and as Andy quieted, she could tell she sensed this too.
“Treat Thelma with respect, PJ. That’s all you can really do. And so long as Jeremiah’s treating her with
respect too, I think you need to play it cool.”
“I’ll try,” PJ said sulkily.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“I wish I wasn’t so afraid of flying,” Andy said. “I hate that I’m afraid. If I wasn’t, I’d come visit you all the time—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be heading your way soon enough. Ms. Patrice is adding one of the homeschoolers to my client roster, so I’ll be picking up more sessions and earning more money. It won’t be long till I can book my ticket to San Diego.”
“Cool. Maybe when you come, Kory will be here too.”
“Awesome. Did she decide to move down then?”
“Not yet, but she sounds really interested. I was just about to send her a list of my likes and dislikes. Do you think I should be thorough and go with my top one hundred or narrow it down to the top fifty?”
“I’d go with the fifty.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Probably better to be concise. Okay, gotta go. Goodbye, PJ.”
“Talk to you later, Andy.” PJ smiled as she hung up. Then she rolled out of bed and strode for the bathroom.
A couple minutes later, she walked right back out with a frown.
Chapter 43
PJ was right about Artemia Wells. She had been a kick-ass lady.
As Beau sat through her memorial service Friday evening, his initial anxieties about returning to East Baton Rouge Evangelical were soon laid to rest. This was because Artemia had left specific instructions to her family on how she wanted the funeral arrangements to go down. Which was namely that she did not want a funeral. She wanted a celebration.
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