Page 133 of Hopeless
I don’t like them on our river, where Bailey and I first spent a night together. It seems like an intrusion, so I’ll be running electric fencing along that side of my property too. With a labored sigh, I stand and head inside. I check every door and window on the main floor and set my barely ever used alarm system before trudging upstairs to the girl who feels like she’s the part of me that’s been missing for too damn long.
When I get to my room, she’s standing at the window, looking ashen.
“Thought I told you to stay on the bed.”
She nods. “You did.”
“And yet, there you are, at the window.”
“I wanted to watch.” She shrugs. “And you’re not my boss anyway.”
I smirk. “Yeah, I am.”
She rolls her eyes before letting the curtain go and making her way back to the bed. I meet her there, lifting the covers so I can tug her closer and cradle her in the curve of my body where I know she’s safest.
Silence surrounds us until she whispers, “Paint your driveway with their brains?” A soft snort leaves her, and her shoulders shake on a laugh. “That is so romantic.”
I pull her tighter against me and huff out an exasperated breath. “I meant it, Bailey. You asked me how I know I love you? That’s how. I’ve got anyone who wants to hurt you in my crosshairs, and I won’t feel bad about taking them down, either.”
That statement makes her quiet for a few moments.
She kisses my hand and presses back on me. “Should we call the cops?”
“Nah, I got this.”
“Thank you,” are her final whispered words before her breathing eventually goes deep and even.
But me? I stay up listening.
Until the sun comes up and I know she’s safe.
37
Bailey
We fall back onto the bed in a tangle of sweaty limbs. My head is resting on Beau’s quad when he bites my inner thigh, leaving yet another mark I’m sure, since that seems to be his thing.
I yelp and roll off him, pretending I’m trying to get away. But he knows better. He grabs me and hauls me back against his body.
“Starting to think you ask me if I’ve ever tried something just to make me show you how, sugar. Such a needy little brat.”
I laugh against his chest, biting his pec in response. “Sixty-nine just seemed so confusing. I needed some coaching, sir.” I can’t say it without giggling. I swear I’m giddy all the time now.
Sex with Beau is hot, and fun, and emotional all at once. I can’t get enough of it.
“Bailey,” he groans in that exasperated way he likes to say my name, but his dick twitches beneath my leg where it’s slung over his naked body.
Does it make me a brat that I get a real thrill out of saying things that shock him? I don’t know. But I don’t care because I get a kick out of it.
I also get a lot of orgasms out of it.
And a lot of feelings. Big feelings that I’m not sure what to do with. Big feelings that make me still wanting out of this town very confusing. I was so convinced that sex was just sex, but with Beau, it’s so much more. Everything feels so different now.
We snuggle, me plastered over him and his arms snug around my waist as the morning sun filters in through the window. He woke me up getting ready for work, and I took advantage. I’m tired and want to go back to sleep, but he must be tired too, considering he still sits at my bar four nights a week guarding me.
He hums contentedly and then carries on to make a fake snoring sound that has me smiling against his chest. “I’m sorry. You must be so tired.”
A broad, calloused palm slides up and down my back. “All good, baby. It’s worth it.”
