“What?” I ask.
“Who were you talking to?”
“Charlie’s cousin. She remembered me,” I whisper.
Her hand is firm against my chest and in the private space, I’m desperate to touch her. One kiss, one touch, or anything I can get. We only have a minute before we have to go back to the party or risk being found together, which makes this moment even more charged.
“What does she want, Beau?”
I lean in, desperate to kiss her.
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” I reply, trying to pull her closer. “Why? Are you jealous, ma’am?”
She shoves me harder against the wall and attacks my lips with hers. It’s the exact response I was hoping for. I devour her kiss in this quiet stolen moment, hungry for her touch. It’s not long enough because her hand travels upward, encircling my neck as she shoves me back again.
“I am not jealous because nothing will happen with her,” she says possessively, and I grin down at her.
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply.
“You’re mine, Beau Grant. Do you hear me?” She’s leaning in, about to press her mouth to mine again.
I bring her closer, feeling her breath against my lips as I reply, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Now kiss me again.” She gasps before our mouths are fused, and I’m licking my way in until our tongues are tangled and we’re both left panting and hungry for more. Seeing me talking to someone else was apparently the trigger to getting her to finally break her calm composure, and I love it.
“Can we get out of here, please?” I ask as our mouths finally part.
“Yes,” she whispers. Then with a tight grip on my scalp, she painfully tilts my head back, and I wince. “Do not talk to her again. Meet me out front in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay, okay,” I mutter, and she tugs harder.
I suck in a breath through my teeth as she presses her lips to my neck. “Try that again.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I stammer with a smile.
But she doesn’t let go. Instead, she creeps up on her toes, her mouth next to my ear. “I think I like hurting you, Beau.”
Even though my head is screaming in pain and I can’t move my neck, I manage to smile anyway. “So take me home and hurt me some more.”
“Oh, I’m going to do something else to you.”
A door closes somewhere in the house, and we break apart in a rush. She adjusts her clothes as she leaves me standing there, and I’m left with an aching hard-on as she quickly whispers, “Fifteen minutes.”
Rule #20: Rules are made to be broken.
Maggie
I won’t get the sight of him reaching out and touching her out of my head anytime soon. And I definitely won’t forget the way it made me feel.
She was beautiful. Young. Fit.
And he was flirting with her.
Whether he knew it or not, that smile of his is more powerful than he realizes. With one lopsided grin, Beau can make a woman forget her own name. Forget she has a boyfriend. Or convictions.
Pure, unfiltered Beau eye contact is potent.
And, for a moment, as I stood with Garrett and Mia, I considered that this was the end of us—whatever that means. I made it very clear that we were exclusive, but if someone younger and prettier catches his eye and he wants out, then it’s over. Why would he want to come home with me when she so clearly gave him fuck me eyes for fifteen minutes straight?