My mind drifts over everything that’s happened since I’ve been here. It’s crazy, but I can‘t remember ever being this happy. Not in a long time anyway. The last thing I feel before drifting off is the bed dip and a warm man nestle up behind me. With Beau on one side and Reacher on the other, I drift into a deep sleep.
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when something pulls me from a dream. It’s not an unpleasant jolt from sleep, it’s more like a lovely sensation through my body. My mind floats awake. I’m lying on my back with someone between my legs. My back arches as Beau’s tongue sweeps through my folds. It’s a pretty damn good way to be woken up.
“Beau,” I moan, sweeping the covers back. I want to see him at work. His dark gaze meets mine from between my thighs. His head lowers again as he returns to his work. I gasp when his tongue swipes over my clit. Slapping his head with my hand, Ifist a handful of his hair. My hips rise off the mattress to meet his hungry mouth.
Gently, he sucks my nub between his lips, and I try to squirm away. His strong arm presses me down to hold me in place. I want to protest, it’s almost too much. But my words fail me this time. There’s only one word on my lips.
“Beau,” I pant. A thumb takes over as his tongue slides inside me. I don’t know if it’s the new sensation or his rumbling growl that makes me let go.
I float through waves as my mouth opens in a silent scream. I want more while at the same time needing less. He brings me down slowly until I’m nothing more than bones spread on the bed. His lips place a soft kiss on my stomach.
“Beau,” I sigh this time.
“I like how you say my name.” His head rests on my abdomen. My hand runs through his soft hair, a little more gently this time. We lay still simply enjoying being together. I know it can’t last. I have a tour to complete, and he has a ranch to run. But, for right now, I can pretend. I can pretend this bubble is how it will always be between us.
“I should get the chores done before it gets dark,” he says. He doesn’t move as my hands continue raking my fingers through his hair. Finally, he sighs and pushes to his knees.
“What can I do to help?”
“Stay warm. I won’t be very long.” He gets off the bed. I suppress the urge to pull him back down on top of me.
“I’ll have something hot for you when you get done.” I’m talking about a drink, but he shoots me a smirk. My face grows red. Before I can stammer out something stupid, he walks to the mudroom. He whistles, and Reacher follows him out.
As much as I’d love to stay here in my post sex stupor, I’m sure there’s something I can do to help. I swing to a sitting position, and my gaze lands on those pesky presents underthe tree. Nope, I can resist. But what am I going to do for a Christmas present for Beau. It’s not like there’s anything in my suitcase he’d want.
I pull one of the blankets around me when I stand up. Maybe I can find inspiration somewhere in this house. After a quick spin around the living room, I walk down the hall to his bedroom.
My hand freezes on the door handle. It will be the first time I’ll see this room, and it feels like I’m breaking a confidence. Well, I guess if he’s got a stack of skinsuits in his closet, I might as well find out now.
Pushing the door open slowly, I take a look around. I don’t know what I’m expecting. It looks like any man’s bedroom. The furniture looks like it came from a discount store.
There’s a gray comforter on the bed and a large framed black and white scenery photo over it. The only thing with much color is the large area rug in deep shades of reds, blues, and greens. Not much of inspiration in here.
There’s one other place I can look. Walking around the bed, I stop in front of the nightstand. There’s a book on top with a bookmark holding his place. Not a serial killer then. Everyone knows dog-earring a book is one of the signs.
I pull out the drawer on top. It’s filled with what looks like the stash of an elementary kid. Keys, a video game, lube (okay, maybe not elementary), and a handful of trinkets. Under all of it are several photos of Beau and his brother. It’s the first photos I’ve seen of them as adults.
That gives me an idea. It’s childish, but I could use some of the leftover craft supplies to make frames for his office. That wall of photos really needs updating.
I gather up the photos and close the drawer. The rest of the nightstand doesn’t have much in it at all. Taking the photos, Ireturn to the kitchen. It didn’t take long to get chilled in that part of the house.
I sit at the table and dig through the art supplies. By the time Beau comes stomping back in the mudroom, I’ve created several frames. They’re wrapped and sitting under the tree. Quickly, I turn on the stove for hot water. I hear a load of wood hit the stack.
“It’s still freezing out there,” he says, stepping into the kitchen. Reacher trots in behind him with his tail wagging. I automatically reach for one of the treats in the jar on the counter.
“Figured you’d bring some more wood with you?” He smirks. Oh Lord. “Go ahead and say it.”
“Nah, it’s too easy.” I stand with my arms crossed and stare at him. His grin grows broader. “I’ve got your wood right here.” Yeah, I set him up. I roll my eyes anyway. “Any requests for dinner?” I thrust a cup of tea into his hands.
“Anything sounds good.” My stomach growls in agreement.
“How about you? You’d be good for dinner.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me on to his lap as he sits at the table. Somehow, he manages not to burn either of us with his tea. I can’t say I disagree with his statement. I wouldn’t mind being feasted on for dinner. But we can’t exist on sex alone. Right?
“I’m being serious,” I say.
“So am I,” he counters. “Fine, you can be dessert.”
We decide on making a pizza. Beau has all the ingredients, and the oven is gas. He has to practically climb in it to start the pilot light again.
