Page 17 of Never Really Mine
Beau sombers. “I don’t regret kissing you. Not now, and not when we were kids.”
I rub my temples. “Beau, we’re drunk, this… we need to stop.”Oh my god, is this really happening?
“I’m sober enough to know what I want, Marley. What I’ve always wanted.” His eyes are blazing, but no longer hazy like they were on the dance floor.
I take a step forward, my tummy fluttering with butterflies. Because he’s right. I’m drunk, but I’m also sober enough to give in, tolet go. Beau does the same, his eyes trailing from my eyesto my lips. His hand reaches up, cupping my face. The other hand reaches out, gripping my waist tightly.
“Tell me to stop, tell me that this isn’t what you want, Marley. It all ends now if you say the word.” His voice is low, breathy.
God, this might be the worst decision I’ve ever made, but yet, I don’t see myself stopping him. Stopping this. I need to see this through, even if it breaks my heart. I need to know what it feels like to have his unbidden touch. His complete and utter devotion, even if for just one night.
“Don’t stop,” I say, and his lips are back on mine. His hand drags up my chin, sliding around to the nape of my neck, gripping my hair at the scalp. The tug of hair gives a bite of discomfort, but enough to keep me sane, so I know that this is real life.
His hips press into my stomach, and I can feel the hard bulge through his pants. I have to stifle a giggle, because the thought of Beau being hard, for me? It’s laughable. I’m the complete opposite of any girl I’ve seen him with. I have wide hips, an apron belly, and thick thighs. I’m nothing compared to the skinny girls he’s been with before.
He pushes me backward, into the large bathroom. The light flicks on automatically, and Beau pulls his hands from my hair. I’m pressed against the bathroom counter, one palm flat on the cool surface to keep my balance.
He breaks the kiss, smiling down at me. “You’re fucking perfect, love.”
Love.
I don’t have time to read into him calling me that, because his hands are sliding down to cup my breasts through the fabric of my bridesmaids dress. He kneads one, the other continuing a path downward, finding the long slit at my thigh.
Beau’s mouth descends on my neck, placing soft, soul-sucking kisses there. The hand at my thigh slides up between theslit, feeling the layer of shapewear I have on. He groans against my neck. “Why are you wearing that?”
I chuckle, feeling lighter than I have in ages. Something about this feels so right, yet so forbidden all at once. It’s exhilarating.
“Because I have to keep the muffins in the tin, Beau,” I explain, gesturing to my ample rolls.
He snickers softly, but not in a mocking way. “I love muffins.” He raises his brow ever so slightly, a silent question.
I nod and turn so I’m facing the bathroom mirror. My eyes are red rimmed from my earlier tears, but my face is alive with emotion, hair falling out of its perfectly placed curls and pins. I pull my hair over my shoulder, giving Beau access to the zipper. His fingertips trail up the length of my back until he reaches the base of my neck. The zipper clicks down the tracks slowly, and I hear Beau's slow intake of breath with every inch of skin that is revealed. I’m wearing a black bra that does good things for my cleavage, all while having a little extra padding to cover the bars from my nipple piercings.
The warmth of his fingers makes me shiver, my mind whirring with thoughts. I pride myself in being confident in my body. It’s taken me a long time, but I love the body I’m in. Muffin rolls and all.
Yet, for just a moment, I worry. Beau has known me since we were kids. What if he doesn’t like what hides under the fabric?
The dress slides down my arms and to the floor, leaving me in only my black bra and the nude shapewear. In the mirror, I watch Beau’s reaction carefully. His eyes slowly rake down my body with so much heat and lust that I’m surprised I haven’t spontaneously combusted.
I slowly turn so my back is to the mirror, my ass pressed against the cool counter. My hands slowly glide up to Beau’schest, fingering the silk of his tie. “I feel like you should pinch me,” I murmur.
“Why would I pinch you?” Beau asks, his voice low and sultry.
“So I wake up.”
“This isn’t a dream, Mar. This is really happening.”
A frenzy stirs inside at his words, and I’m yanking at his tie, fumbling my fingers to get it loose and off his neck, then moving down his shirt, unbuttoning them as fast as I can. Once I reach the bottom, Beau throws the shirt off his shoulders, tossing it to the floor, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt, and his trousers.
He whips the shirt up and off, revealing his bare skin. His arm is covered in tattoos that are so familiar to me, as I was with him for every single one. I held his hand in solidarity while he sat for hours. I’m momentarily distracted when the “Dead Sea” tattoo on his inner arm calls to me, and I trace it with my pointer finger. I trace the hands, then the water, before moving on to his other tattoos.
Beau’s hand reaches up to clasp mine, the other caressing my cheek before he leans down, kissing me. I lose myself in the kiss, entangling my fingers into his tousled hair when he drops my hand.
He plays with the edge of the shapewear, tugging it slightly. I softly chuckle against his lips. I drop my hands, taking over for him, yanking the shapewear down to my knees, shimmying it off to my ankles and kicking it across the bathroom. I’m left in only my bra and black thong.
Our kiss becomes more ravenous as we touch, our bodies melting into each other. I dig into the skin at his hips, searching for the belt buckle. It opens with a click, and I slide it through the loops as Beau kisses down my chest. He finds the curved barbell of my piercing through my bra, giving my nipple a soft pinch.
Beau shoves down his pants as I gasp, coming up for air. He’s in a pair of gray boxer briefs that outline his hard cock. I zero in on it, seeing the small circle of wetness where the tip rests. I swear to god, my mouth fucking waters. When I lift my gaze, I notice that Beau is watching me, watching him. His hands slide down to my hips, gripping hard.
