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“I’ll show you every day as long as there is breath in my body,” he replied. “I’ll always come home to you, Aurora. If I have to spend a lifetime proving that to you, I’ll do it.”
Aurora. No one called me that. It always sounded like a mouthful—too fancy for someone like me. Rory was more familiar and friendly. I liked the way Beau said it though, with his country boy drawl.
Gripping his bicep to steady myself, I reached into the nightstand drawer and retrieved a condom. Beau tore it open and rolled it on. He teased the head of his cock just inside me—a promise of more to come.
“I’m here, darlin’,” he said, his lips nearly kissing mine as he spoke. “And I’m yours.”
In the next moment, I sank down onto his cock. He groaned—a delicious, deep sound I could get addicted to. My mouth dropped open on a silent gasp at the perfect stretch of his length and the smooth, hot glide. Why did I ever say no to this?
“Fuck, Rory,” Beau breathed. “You feel so damn good.”
A pleased smile spread across my face. I tilted my hips to take his cock deeper. His eyes took on a blissed-out, hazy look.
Using Beau’s broad shoulders to anchor myself, I started to move. Riding him slowly. Feeling every inch of him throbbing inside me. His hands were everywhere, squeezing my hips and stroking up my spine.
“I knew it,” he said, his voice strained. “I knew one taste of you would ruin me for good. God, Rory, I want you wrapped around me like this every morning when we wake up, and every night before we fall asleep.”
I bit my lip and tilted my head back, fire igniting through my body. My rhythm grew sloppy and frantic. Placing my hand on Beau’s chest, I snapped my hips harder, faster.
“I need your mouth on me. Everywhere.”
He replied with a teasing lick to my nipple, but I didn’t miss the slight tension between his eyebrows, or the way he clenched his teeth. His ribs must be killing him by now. When I faltered, Beau grabbed my ass, pulling me tight against him.
“Keep going,” he said.
“But—”
“A little pain never killed me. I’m not backing out now. Not when I finally have you in my arms.”
I considered protesting again, but Beau slipped his hand between my thighs and stroked my clit. His mouth latched onto my breast with hot, wet suction. My orgasm bolted through me like lightning. I worked my hips mindlessly, driven to chase that high of pleasure until it was too good, too much.
Nearly rendered boneless, I slouched forward, catching myself at the last minute with my hands on the headboard. Beau wrapped his arms around me with a few careful thrusts before he came, too.
Long after our orgasms had faded, Beau showed no signs of letting me go.
***
In the morning, well before sunrise, I woke to the smell of coffee. Running a hand through my tangled, frizzy hair, I sat up and noticed with a pang that the bed was empty beside me. Pushing the sheets aside, I snatched a shirt from the floor and pulled it over my head as I shuffled out of the room.
I stopped on the threshold of my kitchen. Beau prodded at a pan of scrambled eggs on the stove. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt or boots, wearing only his jeans, unbuttoned and hanging low on his hips. I smiled to myself, watching him make breakfast, looking comfortable in my kitchen. Like he’d always belonged there.
I shuffled into the room and slid my arms around him from behind, pressing my face between his shoulder blades. His skin was warm and smelled like my sheets.
“Hey, darlin’,” Beau said. “I have to head to the ranch in a few minutes but I wanted to make breakfast for you before I go.”
“That’s very kind,” I replied with a kiss to his shoulder.
Beau and I ate together, exchanging little smiles across the kitchen table. Then we made plans to see each other again later in the week on another date. Before Beau left, he coiled a lock of my hair around his finger and kissed me, slow, sweet, and lingering. I would have gladly dragged him back to bed if he didn’t have to work.
Feeling light as a feather, I breezed into the bakery, humming to myself. When the morning rush tapered off and I got a chance to grab a cup of coffee, I noticed one of my regulars, Mrs. Galligan, seated in a corner with a friend. I raised my hand in a wave but Mrs. Galligan didn’t see me and I didn’t want to interrupt so I turned my attention to the coffee maker.
“Did you hear Rory and Beau were all over each other last night at the bar?”
I froze. My ears perked up.
Mrs. Galligan sniffed in disapproval, which was strange since she was usually such a sweet little old lady.
“I thought Rory had more sense than that.”
