Page 95 of Hopeless
My orgasm rocks my very foundation. Beau stays between my legs as I come back down, softly licking and sucking and telling me how pretty I am, and that makes my addiction to him even more obsessive.
Cool air rushes in when he pulls his head back, and I open my eyes just in time to see him lick his lips. He looks pleased with himself. He’s got that devilish smirk on his glistening face, and that cocky glint in his eye.
“New rule, Bailey.” He points at my left hand, slung over the edge of the tub, and then between my legs. “So long as you’re wearing that ring, this pussy is mine.”
My heart thunders at how base he sounds, staking a claim to my body.
“Next time you find yourself thinking you’re going to pull that box of toys out and play with it all by yourself, you’re going to offer it to me first.”
I straighten slightly, trying to appear less boneless than I feel as I nod back at him. I’m buzzing with excitement as my tongue darts out over my lips. “Okay.”
He pushes to stand above me, and my eyes bug at what’s pointing straight at me from between his legs. He regards me carefully, completely ignoring his raging erection, something I find challenging to do.
I itch to touch it. I wonder how it would feel in my mouth. I want him to tell me in painstaking detail how he wants me to suck it.
“You’re fucking perfect. You know that?” Then he leans down, kisses me tenderly, and brushes a thumb over my bottom lip, making me taste the lingering remains of my orgasm.
My eyes catch on his, and the sincerity there stuns me silent.
So silent that I watch him step out of the tub, replace his towel around his waist, and leave me there without another word.
27
Beau
Idon’t wake up screaming for once.
But I wake up with phantom burning pains. My first thought is that this is an improvement. My second thought is that it’s 2:11 a.m. and Bailey didn’t come to my room.
I should be happy I seem to be improving, even if my healed feet feel like they’re sizzling against a hot grill beneath the covers.
But all I can think about is Bailey. The girl I’m supposed to be helping, not playing games with.
I saw her today. The way she looks at me. How easily she told me she trusts me.
She shouldn’t.
And I shouldn’t have taken as much trust as I did. Said the things I did.
I thought about marching across the hall and dragging her into my bed. It kills me to know she’s right there, yet just beyond my reach. It kills me to know there’s an expiration date on our arrangement. But there needs to be, because I’ve gotten myself in far deeper than I ever should have. I’ve taken my hero complex to unseen levels.
This mission I backed myself into is beyond compromised, and she has no idea.
I scrub at my face and roll up to sitting, turning to press my feet against the cool floor. It does nothing to stop the burning sensation on my feet or the roiling in my stomach. I basically promised her a next time when I shouldn’t have. I know I should keep her at a distance, but I wish she was in my bed, not alone in hers after what we just did. I want the “next time” to be right now.
How fucked-up am I?I’m hot and cold. I say left and go right.
I tell a girl who needs help getting a job that her pussy is mine now, like I’m some sort of over-the-top obsessive caveman.
She makes me feel like I am.
I’m so lost in thought that I don’t even hear her approach. She rushes into my room without knocking. Tiny shorts, an even tinier tank top, and totally disheveled hair. “I’m so sorry! You orgasmed me stupid, and I forgot to set my alarm.”
Hands propped on the edge of the bed, chin almost against my chest, I laugh silently. My shoulders shake, and the laughter comes out as a soft whoosh of air.
“Oh my god, Beau.” She rushes forward, falling onto her knees at my feet. “Are you cry—” Her eyes widen when she gets a read on me in the dark room. “Are you laughing? I thought you were crying!” She slaps my knee.
I bring one hand up, pressing my fingers into my eye sockets. “The shit you say sometimes. I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.”
