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Beau’s hands were on her hips, his cock aching as he positioned her above him.
“Just sex,” he repeated.
She lowered herself and he was barely able to keep it together. Christ, she was already wet and so damn tight—it was insane.
“Yes,” she said her voice rising as he began to move her slowly. “Just sex.” Up and down.
Up and down.
She smiled, though her voice was strained. “Isn’t that enough?”
Beau didn’t answer. Instead he watched her.
He watched her eyes darken as they increased their speed, her rhythm matching his, stroke for stroke. She was wild. Uninhibited. Totally fucking beautiful.
She scratched her nails across his chest as she bent forward and tipped her hips slightly. The smile that curved her lips told him that she knew exactly how she affected him. She was the tiger.
His tiger.
Beau held on as they reached the peak and then shattered against each other. He held on as she shuddered and threw her head back with a sigh that told him she was spent. Satisfied.
Was sex enough?
As Betty collapsed on him, he held her close. He inhaled her scent—that earthy, feminine scent that drove him crazy.
He inhaled her sex—her sex still wet from him—and that something from earlier washed over him again. This time he knew that part of it was possession.
Beau wanted her and he was pretty sure that sex wasn’t going to be enough. What the hell was he going to do now?
“I’m starving,” Betty said. “Let’s get out of here.”
They showered and dressed in the same clothes they’d had on the day before. Sure they were wrinkled as shit and dirty from driving through the rain, but Betty Jo could have been wearing a burlap sack and she still would have been the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.
Her smile was light, her steps quick and sure. That wild hair hadn’t seen a brush since the morning before and there wasn’t a stitch of makeup on her face.
Didn’t matter.
Beau smiled and grabbed her hand as they entered a greasy spoon just off the interstate a few miles down from the motel. He’d pulled on his faded orange Oregon Beavers ball cap and with his aviators, he was pretty sure no one would know who he was.
It was early. Before six in the morning, but there were a few souls having the advertised all you can eat breakfast. Every single head popped up and every pair of male eyes settled on Betty.
Beau was pretty sure he could have been buck-naked and none of them would have paid him any mind.
They slid into a booth in the far corner. The waitress—an older woman close to his mother’s age—took one look at them and marched herself back to the kitchen. She promptly appeared with two giant sized mugs of ste
aming, fresh coffee and asked for their order.
Betty opted for steak and eggs, with a side of hash browns and extra toast.
“What?” she said as he asked for the same, making their waitress blush when he smiled up at her. When the lady left with their order he focused on Betty.
“Nothing. I’m just used to most women I’m with picking at their food and ordering fruit salad or just coffee. Hell, sometimes water.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “Well those women are stupid.”
“Yeah.” To put it mildly. He’d never understood the desire some women had to starve themselves. Didn’t make sense. If you were hungry you ate. If you needed to work it off, you hit the gym. End of story.
Betty put her cup down slowly, twirled her spoon in the cup and then with a sigh, glanced up at him. Her gaze was direct and he knew she was all business.
