Page 49 of Hopeless
“Three fingers on melted skin made you think about a threesome. Life is certainly never boring in your head, is it?”
“Well, no. I was thinking about sex.” When she blurts the last part out, she finally looks a little embarrassed. But notthatembarrassed.
“You were touching my feet … and thinking about sex?” Disbelief bleeds into every syllable. She’s the most entertaining blend of innocent and curious.
“Yeah. I mean,”—her head wobbles—“to be fair, I think about sex a lot.”
I scrub a hand over my face, covering my eyes. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”
She scoffs playfully as she traces my feet again, not the least bit uncomfortable touching me. “Don’t be such a prude, Beau.”
A laugh lurches from my chest. God, I am so unprepared for this woman. “I just don’t know how I ended up engaged to a girl with a foot fetish who blurts out personal sex questions at the drop of a hat.”
“Well, you are my fiancé. Maybe I should ask another guy instead,” she muses, the tips of her fingers now twirling over my skin as though dancing across the scar tissue.
Jealousy hits me hard and fast. I have no right to it. I can’t rationalize it. All I know is I don’t want her sharing moments like this—quiet and unfiltered, safe and trusting—with some other jackass.
I want to be the only jackass who gets this version of her.
“I’ve never had a threesome, Bailey,” I grit out as I push to stand, needing to put some space between us before I do something stupid.
Her gaze follows, brown eyes staring up at me like I’m the moon in the night sky. “Why not?”
Bailey, sitting at my feet, full attention turned my way, is doing nothing to stop my hard-on from making an appearance.
“Not a big fan of sharing something once I decide it’s mine.”
Her lips part.
And fuck. I should stop, but the side of me that sees danger and runs straight toward it has made an appearance tonight.
So I reach out and run my palm over her silky hair, cupping her head. “I’ll start leaving the back door unlocked for when you decide you want to find out if I’m a prude or not.”
Her eyes widen, and I can’t help but imagine this is how she’d look as I slid my dick into her pretty mouth.
I was the one who told her we wouldn’t have sex, and it’s taken only a few days for me to be fighting off the thought of it. After a quick shake to clear my head, I turn away. Hand burning, feet tingling, dick rock fucking hard.
“What if I just come in for the air conditioning?” Her voice is smooth, surer than it has any right to be after what I just said to her.
I laugh, but it lacks humor. There’s an edge to it.
A promise.
I don’t bother looking back at her when I say, “Sure, Bailey. Call it whatever you want.”
13
Bailey
Beau:I can pick you up.
Bailey:No, it’s fine. I’ll take a cab. You’re working.
Beau:You don’t need to spend your money on a cab.
Bailey:I actually don’t need your permission, sergeant.
Beau:I’m not a sergeant.
