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A sense of safety that we’ve found in each other.
My eyes squeeze shut. I can’t think about Beau that way. It feels too good.
It hurts too much.
So I go up on my toes and open my eyes for a split second. Our gazes lock, sending a spasm of tenderness through me. The look he gives me is equal parts raw lust and deep admiration. If I wasn’t in love with him before—
Lord, am I in it now. Because somehow, against all odds, despite the PPD, I feel powerful. Beautiful. And oh so turned on.
I kiss him and he kisses me back, ducking his head so I can flatten my feet. He kisses me hungrily, bending me backward with the force of his caress. Slipping an arm around my waist, he presses his lips to mine. Tongue in my mouth. Heart on his sleeve.
This is special. Remember right now. How this feels.
It’s jarring to be touched with such urgency. I feel like Sleeping Beauty waking up from a spell.
I’m aware of my body in a whole new way. Only it’s not new. I just haven’t felt this way since I got pregnant, with the notable exception of that kiss at the bonfire.
My body is mine. Right now, it belongs only to me. It exists only for my pleasure. Pleasure that blooms beneath Beau’s expert touch.
I’m at home with him and at home in my own skin. Finally.
Feels like the first kiss of spring after a long, long winter.
Beau slowly sucks on my bottom lip with a tiny, intentional scrape of his teeth.
My knees give out. Literally. I grab the countertop behind me with a gasp, but Beau’s got me, tightening his arm around my waist.
“You all right?” he asks against my mouth, still kissing me like he can’t pull away, not even for half a second.
“I’m starving,” I say, my voice shaking. “I’ve been starving for this.”
He nudges his nose against mine. “I’m following you, honey. Lead the way.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Annabel
I leave the baby monitor in the kitchen.
By intention or accident, I don’t know.
But it stays there. I always keep the volume turned up, so we’ll hear Maisie from the bedroom if she needs us.
But this golden hour—sun is setting outside the windows, desire buzzing inside my skin—I want to myself.
So I take it.
I take Beau’s hand, twining our fingers, and lead him to my bedroom.
I’m grabbing him by the front of his shirt and guiding it up the washboard of his torso before he’s even through the door.
He laughs, a husky, male sound. My nipples prickle to life, and my clit swells.
He tosses the containers of lube on the bed.
I try to yank his shirt over his head, but he’s too tall. He grabs the hem with both hands and helps me out by tugging it over his head and tossing it somewhere behind me.
I must make a sound when my eyes fall on his naked chest and shoulders because Beau laughs again, eyes alive with a cocky gleam I know well.
“You’ve seen this before,” he says, motioning to his body. He’s broad and tan with a good bit of dark hair smattered across his chest. A line of it arrows down his stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his underwear that peek over his jeans. My gaze catches on the thick vein that follows the inside curve of his shoulder. I can see the striations of muscle there popping against his skin. Mercy. “The yacht. And Super Bowl weekend in South Beach. And—”
“I know. But I’ve never seen you like this.” I lick my lips. “Half naked on the way to…all the way naked.”
“All the way naked. That sounds fun.” He holds out his arms. “Have at it.”
It’s wonderfully bizarre to have permission to touch him any way I want. I reach out. Pressing the tip of my tongue to my upper lip, I flick the pad of my thumb over his nipple, drawing it to a pebbled point. His stomach caves, the ridges along the sides of his torso bunching.
I look up to see him watching me intently, his eyes dark and hazy.
“You like that,” I say, my voice low.
He dips his head and presses a kiss to my neck, sending a bolt of need through my core. “Show me what you like, Bel.”
One of life’s little pleasures: how hot it sounds when a hot guy says your name.
He sucks in a breath when I return the favor and kiss his neck, trailing my mouth over the stubble on his chin.
Taking my time, I savor the salty taste of his skin and the way his hips roll into mine a little more firmly with each flick of my tongue.
Our mouths meet, a juicy tangle of tongues and lips and teeth. Our chests rise together on a long, luxurious inhale. The sound of breath against skin echoes inside my chest cavity.
