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The valet pulled his car up at the curb, and Beau moved to open the door for her. He stored her suitcase behind the seat, then shut the door and rounded the front of the truck.
Becca watched him the whole time. He wasnothappy.
No, that wasn’t true. He wasn’t unhappy. He was…tense.
She, on the other hand, felt great. Not as great as if he’d come up to the room with her, but the vibrator she’d packed was good. It wasn’t fancy and didn’t have any extras. It was basically a clit stimulator with ten speeds. But she never needed to go past three.
He pulled out onto the street and they drove for five minutes before either of them said anything. She’d already texted Savannah that Beau was taking her home, so she settled back and sighed.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?” she asked.
“The happy sighing, the contented looks, the relaxed body language.”
She laughed. “I need to act upset and worked up? Even if I’m not?”
“You’re rubbing it in.”
“You could have rubbed it in.”
“Becca,” he said, his voice low and firm. “Stop.”
She looked over at him. “Why didn’tyoutake the edge off?”
He met her eyes. “Just head into the public restroom and jerk off in the stall?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know how it works.”
“You do know how it works.”
Memories and images slammed into her. Beau’s big hand wrapped around his thick cock, stroking while his hot eyes were on her…
She cleared her throat and shifted on the seat.
He smirked. “That’s better.”
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“Not sorry.”
Well, damn, it looked like she and her vibrator were going to have a double-header tonight. And she was definitely going to be thinking about Beau right next door thinking about her.
fourteen
Three weeks later…
Beau had avoidedher for three weeks.
Mostly.
He couldn’t avoid her entirely, of course. She lived next door. He saw her car pulling in and out of the driveway. He’d run into her at Ellie’s twice. And they’d had to make conversation and smile and laugh and act friendly.
Because theywerefriends.
Even if he thought of her every single night when he was in bed alone. And he wasnotthinking friendly thoughts. No, he was thinking very dirty thoughts. He remembered every sound she made. He knew her scent, hertaste, even a year and a half later. And he let himself fall into all of those memories every night while he jerked off in his bed like a horny teenager.
But they hadn’t been alone together since he’d walked her to her parents’ front door with her suitcase and stoically avoided kissing her goodnight the night of the wedding in New Orleans. Or even tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
