Page 41 of Sweet Surrender
“Hopefully this will all be over by then, that’s still a couple of months away. But if it isn’t, then fine, I agree.”
“Good.” Negotiations complete, a strong sense of accomplishment filled his veins with a victorious high. Then an arrogant smile lifted her lips and his high dipped slightly. Uh-oh.
“Now it’s my turn.” Her sharp eyes pinned him in place. “Freeself-defense lessons, beginning Friday on my day off and lasting as long as I want.”
“I already said they would be fr-”
“If strangers ask you about us then confirm but politely tell them to mind their own business,” she interrupted, pointing her finger at him in warning.
“Already done, Porter threatened to hurt me already.”
She clasped her hand to her chest. “Really? That’s so sweet of him.”
Beau snorted.
“We share the bed, but you stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine.”
He snorted again and rolled his eyes. These were really easy; he had been expecting much worse from her.
“And no other women while we’re doing this.” She smirked at him when she dropped that little bombshell.
“But this could last for months!” he cried. She shrugged, still smirking.
“Fine, no other men then,” he retorted, and her smile slipped slightly.
“Not a problem.”
“Likewise!”
They glared at each other across the table. “We need to do Justine’s exercise,” he reminded her.
She winced. “Not tonight please, I just need sleep.”
“Tomorrow then,” he agreed. She made a move to tidy up their plates, but he put his hand over hers, the contact zinging up his arm.
“I’ll do it. Go on, get to bed,” he ordered. Something odd flickered behind her eyes before she looked away.
“Okay, thanks again,” she said and got up from the table and headed into the bedroom.
He was on edge while cleaning up, expecting her to come storming out from the bedroom yelling at him once she spotted the picture, and wrecking the first peaceful evening they’d shared together in nearly two decades. But she never did. He sat down at the table and made a grocery list and meal plan before he decided to go to bed.
He crept into the room, not wanting to wake her but nearly ruined it by laughing when he saw the giant pillow fort she had erected down the middle of the bed. Normally he slept in his boxers or sometimes, nothing. But with the possibility that she could wake up before him and catch a glimpse of the imperfect body he worked so hard to fix and spent so long trying to hide, he wasn’t taking any chances. He kept his t-shirt on and changed into his sweatpants.
He got under the Barbie-pink quilt and settled down into the comfiest bed he’d ever been in. Her scent immediately made a beeline for his nostrils and he tried to ignore it. Soon he would be so used to it that he wouldn’t notice it anymore and he hoped that day would hurry the fuck up.
He waged a war with his libido, convinced he was actually winning until he heard it. The soft moan from next to him.
Then another.
The sound punched a bolt of lust straight through him, his cock immediately reacting. She moaned again, longer this time and breathier than before.
“Sweet Jesus,” he muttered, biting his lip to keep from reaching for her or himself.
She was right, this whole thing was a mistake.
*
Taylor awoke the next morning feeling fully refreshed. Yesterday was so exhausting both emotionally and physically that she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and she had the best night’s sleep ever. Which had nothing to do with who she was sleeping next to, not that she could see him over the pillow fort. Sitting up, she saw she was alone in bed, which was just as well because she knew that if Beau had been laying there, she would have been tempted to watch him sleep like a creeper.
