by Carly Bloom
Beau laughed again. “Oh, Allie, you really know how to turn a guy on.”
“Sorry. I’ll be quiet.”
“No. Don’t stop talking. I like the sound of your voice, no matter what you’re saying.”
She knew the kinds of things he wanted her to say, and she wanted to say them. But it was just so hard. She took a deep breath. “I’m really turned on right now.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. I like looking at your penis. It makes me . . .” She hesitated. She could feel the chastity belt tighten, and it seemed to have moved up to her throat. Just say it! “Wet. It makes me wet.”
Beau groaned. “Fuck, Allie.”
She felt a little naughty. And surprisingly, very in control. And being in control was her happy place. Maybe she’d say some more things.
“I want to taste it.”
Beau breathed heavier. Louder. Faster. And speaking of faster, his hand was really moving now. Definitely no longer avoiding the glans. She’d turned him on. For real. With just a few words.
“And I want to feel it inside me,” she said. The words had gushed out, as if the dam holding them in had finally broken.
Beau’s hand was practically a blur now. Alice couldn’t even see his penis. “Beau, I want to see your face.”
His face came back into view. He opened his eyes briefly, startling her momentarily with their intensity. But then they rolled back and his eyelids fluttered shut. His lips parted. His breath came in quick gasps and pants, and his cheeks were flushed. Very flushed. Even for a blond.
“You’re so beautiful,” she said. “I’m never seen a more beautiful man.”
Beau opened his eyes and smiled, although she could tell by his breathing and the shaking of the screen that he hadn’t stopped stroking himself. “There’s another guy who looks just like me so . . .”
“No. I see you, Beau. Just you. And you’re beautiful to me.”
The image stopped shaking and Beau stared right at her. Right into her. Then he let out a ragged breath and the activity started back up. “God, I want to come, Allie.”
“Don’t close your eyes,” she said. “I want you to look at me when you do it.”
Beau gasped and although he blinked a couple of times, he managed to keep staring into the camera.
“Oh, fuck, Allie,” he groaned.
“Are you close?”
Beau’s eyes rolled back, but he fluttered his eyelids, as if trying to force them to stay open. “Not until you tell me,” he gasped.
She stared into Beau’s eyes. He was a large, sexy hunk of a man—a sexually experienced one—and he was putting her in charge of his most intimate and personal act. He groaned, as if he couldn’t hold out much longer, and his eyes pleaded for his release.
“Come for me, Beau.”
She was surprised by the authoritative tone of her voice, but Beau didn’t seem surprised at all. He was rolling with it. His lips parted. His cheeks flushed even brighter and his forehead shone with perspiration as he panted and gasped, still somehow managing to hold on to his phone. “Oh God, Alice. Alice . . . Alice . . . Alice . . .”
He said her name as if it were a personal mantra, and then let out a long, shattering sigh. His eyes fluttered shut, and he just lay there, panting.
Alice was panting, too. The way he’d held her in his gaze while seeking his release was the most intimate moment she’d ever experienced. Even though he hadn’t touched her. And oh, how she longed for his touch.
“Beau,” she whispered.
He smiled, eyes still shut, and said, “Yes, darlin’?”
His speech sounded almost slurred, as if he was drunk on the pleasure hormones that were probably coursing through his body.
What had she wanted to say when she’d whispered his name? “I miss you,” she finally said.
His smile grew even larger, but he still didn’t open his eyes. “I miss you, too. Hurry up and get here.”
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
The young woman on the other side of the counter seemed to be using an unnecessary amount of pink tissue paper to wrap up such a small object, but maybe that’s the way they did things in fancy lingerie stores.
“Are you sure we can’t help you with anything else?” she asked, looking up at Beau through her fluttering false eyelashes. Her name tag identified her as Bekki.
Although he clearly hadn’t purchased such an item for his mama, Bekki didn’t seem to care. She had been on him like a fly on a horse since the moment he’d walked through the door, and it wasn’t just for the sales commission.
“I think I’m good,” he said, slipping his credit card back in his wallet. He was still reeling from the sticker shock. When he’d asked Carmen where a guy could buy some fancy underwear, she’d sent him to Uptown Boudoir. He’d known he was in trouble the minute he’d walked through the door.
Some places just smelled expensive, and Uptown Boudoir was one of them.
“This is a lovely gown,” Bekki said. “Do you mind if I ask who it’s for?”
“It’s for—”
Shit. What could he say?
It’s for my reading tutor.
It’s for my former babysitter.
It’s for my fake girlfriend.
“Never mind,” she said. “We’re trained in discretion. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Great. The woman thought he was cheating on someone. And if anyone was less trained in discretion than Bekki the underwear sales associate, he’d eat his hat. But he just smiled, took the fancy bag full of tissue paper, and exited the store to walk across the blistering pavement to where he’d parked his truck. Damn, it was always hotter in the city. Too much concrete reflecting the sun. He longed to get back to green pastures and Mother Nature.
He climbed in the truck and set the bag on the seat next to him. He wanted to pull the nightgown out and imagine it on Alice, but it was wrapped up tighter than Fort Knox. It would take twenty minutes just to locate it. He looked at his watch and quickly started the truck. He didn’t have twenty minutes. He probably shouldn’t have stopped to shop after dropping the bulls off at the market, but he’d wanted to get something nice for Alice.
His phone chimed with a text. He looked at it, and right away the words “bull” and “horny” and “fence” popped out.
He knew exactly what was going on without figuring out the rest. The bull had busted through that weak spot in the fence they’d been worried about. He’d gotten the gist of the message in like two seconds.
Now slow down and focus on context.
The rest of the message was easy to read.
Horny bull busted through the fence. Will ruin tonight’s rehearsal dinner. Get your ass back here.
Beau responded with a thumbs-up emoji. Then he pulled out onto the highway, eager to get back and help. He absolutely didn’t want Brittany’s rehearsal dinner ruined.
He was going to have to round up a frisky bull and also repair the fence where the damn thing had busted through. It was hard to know how long it would take, but he was definitely going to be late for the rehearsal dinner. In fact, he and Bryce trying to round up a bull might end up being the entertainment.
And then after the dinner . . .
He shifted in his seat. He couldn’t wait for tonight. He might be making love to Alice for the first time, and it might actually be her first time. It should be special. Hence the lingerie.
There was no hiding anything from Allie now. Last night, he’d fucking jerked off in front of her. Maybe it was just a fun and kinky thing for Alice to mark off her list—FaceTime shenanigans—Check!—but it hadn’t been shenanigans for Beau. He might have blown more than just his load. He’d probably also blown his cover. Had she sensed how overcome with emotion he was? She claimed it was hard for her to read people, but he felt like an open book in front of her.
Christ. This was more than a crush. It seemed he was fucking in love with Alice Martin. And he didn’t think there had been a single da
y, hour, or minute since he was twelve years old that he hadn’t been.
Alice twirled in front of the mirror, admiring the way the navy skirt flared. She’d walked over to Carmen’s suite after checking into her room. She wanted an opinion about the outfit she’d chosen. “What do you think? Should I add a string of pearls, or are they too blah for the cream blouse?”
“It’s hard for me to say which is more blah, the blouse or the pearls,” Carmen said.
“Really? The whole thing is blah?”
“Not for jury duty. But for a party? Yes. And you’ve got two to attend.”
“Two?”
“Did you forget about the bachelorette party? It’s right after the rehearsal dinner.”
Alice groaned. She really wasn’t looking forward to it. “I don’t want to go to either party, honestly. And clearly, I have no idea what to wear—”
Carmen put a hand in front of Alice’s face. “Shh. Let Auntie Carmen find you something appropriate.”
Oh dear. The last time Carmen had given Alice something to wear, she’d ended up in cutoff shorts and a pink T-shirt that said meow.
“I think the dinner portion is kind of, you know, nice-ish,” Alice said.
Carmen stopped digging in her suitcase long enough to give Alice a side-eye. “I’m literally catering the thing. And it’s outside in the middle of a pasture. I don’t think it’s all that nice.”
“Sorry,” Alice said.
“I thought you’d stopped saying that.”
“Dang it.”
Carmen laughed and went back to scrounging in her bag. “Aha!” she said, holding up a pretty blue sundress with a small floral print. “This isn’t quite my style, and I honestly don’t know why I bought it. But I think it’s going to look adorable on you.”
Alice looked in the mirror. The dress was short, but not too short. And blue was her color. “Thanks, Carmen. It’s really cute.”
“You’re very welcome. Now hurry up and put it on. I’ve got to head to the kitchen and check on things, so I might not see you until the bachelorette party.”
“Are you catering that, too?”
“I’m showing up with a few trays of canapes and a margarita machine. But I’m staying for the strippers.”
Alice groaned as Carmen headed for the door. “Loosen up, buttercup! I hear they’re wearing chaps and not much else, so it’s going to be a good time.”
There was only one man that Alice wanted to see in chaps, and that was Beau.
She sighed. What did a person do when she’d developed very real feelings for her fake boyfriend? Every time her phone chimed, she hoped it was Beau. Every time she saw a cowboy hat, she hoped it was Beau. White ranch truck driving by? Maybe it was Beau.
When she was with him, she felt like herself, only more. She’d had a taste of Beau Montgomery, and now she wanted all of him.
Last night, Beau had shared his very essence in one of the most private and intimate human acts. And he hadn’t just invited her to watch. He’d invited her in. He’d held her with his eyes, breathed her name with his release.
She shivered at the memory.
Tonight would be their night. They were going to make love. And Alice had no intention of marking it off her bucket list. Because it wasn’t about that anymore. It was about being with Beau.
She stripped down to her undies, but before she slipped into the sundress, she removed her bra and covered a breast with her hand, letting the nipple peek out between her fingers. She snapped a pic, and then with a quick rush of adrenaline, she sent it to Beau.
She never thought she’d do something like that, but she never thought she’d fall in love—was that what this was?—with a cowboy, either.
With her heart still pounding, she got dressed. And Carmen knew what she was talking about, because the dress was absolutely darling. She took another picture and sent it to Beau, too. Then she brushed her hair. But instead of putting it up in her usual ponytail, she decided to leave it down. She felt different. So, why not look different?
Her phone chimed, sending a thrill coursing through her. What was Beau going to say about those pictures? Maybe he was sending one back—a quick peek at some delicious part of his body or just his gorgeous grin . . .
It wasn’t Beau. It was an email from the Austin Public Library.
Subject line: Congratulations
Holy guacamole. She got the job! She plopped onto the bed, staring at her phone. Had she read it wrong? Nope.
She felt . . . proud. Pleased. Valued. Accomplished. And . . . somehow, not the least bit interested.
How was it that only a few short weeks had passed since she’d thought there was nothing keeping her in Big Verde? How had she been so blind? Her family was in Big Verde. Her friends—because yes, she had friends—were there, too. Not to mention her pride and joy, the Big Verde Public Library, which she’d basically built from scratch.
Why did she feel like such a different person?
Beau Montgomery.
It was true that she was a good partner to herself. And that she’d worked tirelessly on self-improvement. But it was being with Beau that had freed her. She’d finally emerged from her cocoon! It had taken seeing herself through Beau’s eyes before she could fully appreciate her own uniqueness. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She was pretty. And you know what? She had a sense of humor. And she freaking loved to have fun! All in all, she was kind of cool.
Someone knocked on the door. Maybe it was Beau! She opened it and . . . It was Claire and Maggie.
“Wow,” Claire said. “I’ve never seen a more disappointed face.”
“Sorry—”
“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Maggie said. “I’d be disappointed, too, if I were expecting a hunky cowboy and got me instead.”
Alice laughed and stepped out of the doorway. “Well, I’m not disappointed. I’m delighted.”
“And cute!” Claire said. “Where did you get that dress?”
“It’s Carmen’s. She found the skirt I brought to be a bit dour.”
“Were we supposed to bring skirts or dresses for anything other than the wedding?” Maggie asked.
Although Claire wore one of those long maxi dresses, Maggie was distinctively more casual in a pair of shorts and a black T-shirt.
“Not unless you’re going to the rehearsal and the dinner,” Alice said.
“I’m invited to the dinner because I made all of the bridesmaids’ bouquets,” Claire said, sitting on the bed.
Maggie sat next to her. “We came a day early for a little getaway. Thank God I don’t have to suffer through the rehearsal. Everybody acts as if the world will stop spinning if someone heads down the aisle one second too soon. That’s why I didn’t have a rehearsal for my wedding.”
“Maybe if you had, you would have known not to walk down the aisle first,” Claire said.
“I was the bride,” Maggie said. “It made sense for me to go first. Also, Travis was standing at the end, and I was anxious to get the official part over with so I could rip his clothes off.”
“Well, I was your maid of honor, and that’s not how it was supposed to work,” Claire said with a grin. “But Travis looked super hot that day. I don’t really blame you.”
Maggie sighed. “Bless his heart. He was so nervous.” She seemed to lose herself for a moment, but then she snapped out of it. “What are they serving at the rehearsal dinner? Maybe I’ll come.”
“Brittany wanted a chuckwagon dinner,” Alice said. “Carmen wasn’t too thrilled about it at first, but once she started getting fancy with quail, venison, and baby back ribs—”
“I’m in,” Maggie said.
Claire looked at her. “You weren’t invited.”
Maggie shrugged and popped her gum. “I’ll pretend to pass out hors d’oeuvres or something.”
“And then after the dinner, there’s the bachelorette party to suffer through,” Alice said.
“There’s a bachelorette party?” Maggie asked,
clapping her hands.
“How dare Brittany leave us off of that particular guest list,” Claire said. “I mean, she’s got strippers and everything.”
Maggie jumped up off the bed. “Strippers?” She looked at Claire. “We’re going, right?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Claire said. “If nothing else, we’ll pretend to serve as chaperones. All the bridesmaids are so young.”
“Not all of them,” Alice added dryly.
“Poor darlings,” Claire said. “Personally, I am loving my thirties. And I think my forties will be even better.”
“Same,” said Maggie. “I feel like I’ve finally gotten my shit together.”
“Speaking of getting one’s shit together,” Claire said. “Alice, have you heard from that library in Austin? Are you going to be moving on to bigger and better things?”
“As a matter of fact, I heard just a few minutes ago.”
Both Claire and Maggie raised their eyebrows expectantly.
“I got it,” Alice said.
Maggie pouted. “Oh. Well—”
Claire cleared her throat. “We’re so happy for you! It sounds like a wonderful opportunity, doesn’t it, Maggie?”
Maggie smiled, but her dark eyebrows were still drawn into a scowl. The result was somewhat hilarious, especially when Claire poked Maggie with an elbow, making her yelp. Alice’s heart warmed. That was the only way to describe it. It was like having a chest full of honey. “Listen, you two—”
“Hold up,” Claire said. “Before you say anything more, we have a few things to say.”
“We really are excited for you,” Maggie said, rubbing her arm where Claire had poked her. “And proud of you. And we’ll help you in whatever way you need. Like, do you need to borrow a pickup truck? We’ll help you move.”
“No. I don’t think—”
“What we’re trying to say,” Claire said, “is that we support you. But, Alice, I’ve thought back to our teenage years, and well, I’m sorry if you ever felt left out. And if you were ever hurt by anything I said or did—”
