Nice shit gets stolen. End of story.
I don’t get nice shit. I wasn’t made for it. And it wasn’t made for me.
As soon as I’m done basking in the feeling of being held, I’ll tell him. I’ll force him to take the ring back. I’ll sit him down and make him understand that although we have an agreement, there is still a line in the sand between us.
One where—
He shifts, smacking his lips in an almost child-like way as his top leg hooks over me and pulls me closer while he …
Grinds his massive morning wood into me.
Now I really freeze on the spot.
A real man is pushing a real boner into me.
I’ve thought about this nonstop. What I’d do. How it would feel.
I’ve dreamed about this.
Being a twenty-two-year-old virgin makes me sound … wholesome somehow. Living in my head is a whole different story. Because, yeah, I’m a virgin, but I’m not desperate to hang onto my V-card. In fact, I’d say I’m eager to get rid of it.
I mean, have you seen my dildo collection? My YouPorn search history? A silicon vibrator I pretend is Jensen Ackles snagged my hymen years ago.
Nah, I’m not saving shit. I’m horny as hell with no one I like enough to work that energy out on. I am desperate to—
“Sugar tits, are you pressing your ass against me?”
My hips shoot forward, and I squeak as I scramble to create space between us. “You can’t call me sugar tits,” is what I come back with as I turn to face him, palms on my hot cheeks like it might cool them down. Or maybe like I have a rewind button there. That would be ideal.
Beau props his arm behind his head and grins at me. “That’s the part you draw issue with?”
I sniff, tipping my nose up, refusing to let my mortification make me feel small. I have years of practice holding my head up high when I should be embarrassed. I reach down to straighten my skirt.
“I was just lying here, keeping you safe. Sleeping. Quietly minding my business. And you were grinding against my—”
“Stop!” My hand shoots up, a physical barrier to cut him off. “Just stop. I was asleep,” I lie.
Beau grins bigger, like he knows I’m full of shit. And fuck, he looks beautiful. There’s sand in his hair, stubble on his face. His tan T-shirt has ridden up just enough to show a peek of bronzed abs.
“I didn’t even know I was doing it,” I say, attempting to weave the truth into what I’m thinking must be a very transparent lie.
He waggles his eyebrows at me.
“Ugh! Stop! You pressed your gigantic boner into me first!”
He laughs as he rolls onto his back, hands scrubbing over his face, which does nothing but make his forearms ripple.
But it’s the sound of his laughter that gets me. It’s warm and full. It vibrates through my body. It makes my stomach flip. It hits me with a jolt of lust right between my legs.
“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny. It’s awkward as hell.”
“It’s funny because if you know that, you weren’t sleeping.”
Shit.
I brush the sand off myself, making a show of it to avoid having to look at Beau and his stupid, knowing smirk. “Well, if you know it, you were awake too,” I argue back.
“Yeah, but I was groggy. I haven’t slept that well in months. My body was celebrating.”
When I peek at him, he winks, and I’m a pile of nervous mush all over again.
“What’s your excuse?” he teases, still laid out flat on his back. It strikes me as an especially vulnerable position for a man like him.
I kneel at his side, taking in what has to be close to six feet, four inches of solid muscle.
His body is a well-honed machine.
I imagine it propped over mine. Thrusting.
“I’m horny,” I blurt, deciding I’d rather not lie. What’s the point? He sees through it anyway.
His gray irises latch onto mine for a few beats. I expected him to laugh, but he just stares at me.
“What? Is that so alarming to you? Is it because I’m a woman? I’m twenty-two, and I swear I’m almost at the point where I’d fuck anyone just to try it out.”
He groans now, hands back on his face. “Bailey.”
When my eyes trace lower, I can see his length straining against his shorts. With his eyes covered, I casually hold my hand out to compare sizes.
For science.
“You can’t fucking say things like that to me.”
“Why not?” I snort, a thrill racing through my body when I realize his dick is longer than my hand. “We’re engaged. I’m practicing, remember?”