“Nothing you need to worry about.” His eyes are still closed, his jaw tense. Being this close with free run to stare at him is dangerous.
What would he do if I pressed my lips to his?
“Well, I will if it means you’re gonna come home and be an ass, I might worry.” His right eye opens at my sass and I shrug.
What does he expect? He pulls it out of me.
“Club business, darlin’. Not gonna talk about it with you.” He shuts down my questions.
Club business. Don’t ask.
“Fair enough.” I let it go, and place the first strip over the cut. He doesn’t flinch or show any sign of hurting. I use a second strip to make sure it’s secure, this time pushing a little harder. Again he doesn’t react and it doesn’t surprise me. The man is a pro at keeping his emotions in check.
“Done,” I announce then step back and start clearing the wrappers from the strips and swabs.
“Thanks, darlin’.” He opens his eyes, the fire slowly fading behind them.
God, he’s handsome. The dark eyes, tanned skin. Beard. Ugh, the beard.
“No problem.” I clear my throat and step over to the trash can. He doesn’t say anything else and I wonder if I should push this. “Now that you’re cleaned up, let’s discuss the nightgown.” I take a seat next to him. My mind and body are at war with each other. Some messed-up part of me wants to please him and not wear it just to make him happy. But at the same time, he doesn’t get to tell me what to do.
“You can’t wear shit like this if you want to live here.”
“You're serious? What’s wrong with it?”
“Everything.” He keeps his eyes on his beer and I don't know if I want to slap him or kiss his face. Even just sitting there, in his pissy mood, he affects me. I regard him for a minute, willing his eyes up, but he doesn’t react.
“Okay, I’ll start looking for a new place tomorrow.” I stand and begin to walk away. I have no idea where this is all coming from. Yeah, sometimes it can be tense between us but this is a whole new level for us. One I’m not okay with.
“Why? Because I don’t want you to wear the stupid dress around me?” he calls out. I turn back to face him.
“No, because clearly this living arrangement isn’t working for us. And because you don’t get to control me, Beau.”
“I’m not trying to control you, Kenz.”
“No? ‘You can’t wear your nightgown if you wanna live here, darlin’.” I deepen my voice and quote his words back to him. “Is that not controlling?”
“I’m just trying to protect you.” He growls, still not making any sense.
“What from, the cold? Last time I checked it’s eighty out.”
“Don’t be a smartass. You know what I’m saying. You can’t walk around here wearing shit like this and not have me react. It’s the last thing you want.” His honesty shocks me for a minute before I draw his meaning from it.
Okay, we’re doing this now.
“Did you bother to ask me what I want, Beau?” I’m starting to lose my composure. Me standing here, exposed, yet he can barely look at me.
“You don’t know what you want, Mackenzie.”
“Oh, I know what I want. Maybe you’re the one confused here.” There, I said it. No point hiding it. Surely by now he knows this tension isn’t going anywhere. Ever since I came back, it’s been there. Both of us lying to each other isn’t working anymore.
“Jesus, you’re so fucking clueless.”
“And you’re so annoying.”
He stands, pushing the chair back and takes two significant steps toward me. I fight my need to cower. Instead, I straighten my back and hold his stare.
“You really wanna know why this will never work, Mackenzie?”
“Yes!” I practically shout in his face.
“Because you’re right. I want to control you, darlin’. Not in the way your fucking ex did, in a way that makes you come apart.”
A hot pulse of need shoots through me, igniting me with his words.
He leans in closer and I have to tilt my head back to keep eye contact.
“I want to fucking claim you. Tie you to my goddamn bed and force you to submit to me.” He presses his mouth to the shell of my ear and I don't fight it, I wait.
Wait for everything and more.
“I want to do dirty things to you, Kenz. Things only dirty girls enjoy. I want to push every one of your limits so no man will ever be able to make you come like I do.” His hot breath moves over my ear and I can’t help the shiver that rolls through me.
“I. Want. To. Own. You.” He pulls back when he's finished. Both of our breathing thick with need.
Holy shit.
How do you respond to that?
“Beau.” I step back, unsure what to say. His eyes narrow at my retreat, but he doesn’t say anything.
My body is alight, buzzing with need but also uncertainty.
If it were anyone other than Beau saying these words, I’d probably be thrown back into the past with Chad. A past I want no future in. But this is Beau. He doesn't frighten me or want to hurt me. He cares for me and I care for him.
“I don’t—" I begin to reply but stop because I have no idea what I want to say.
“Save it. I’m not doing this with you. Wear your fucking revealing nightgown. I don’t give a fuck.” Beau takes my pause the wrong way, turns and walks out, leaving me alone to process the last ten minutes on my own.
What would he do if I pressed my lips to his?
“Well, I will if it means you’re gonna come home and be an ass, I might worry.” His right eye opens at my sass and I shrug.
What does he expect? He pulls it out of me.
“Club business, darlin’. Not gonna talk about it with you.” He shuts down my questions.
Club business. Don’t ask.
“Fair enough.” I let it go, and place the first strip over the cut. He doesn’t flinch or show any sign of hurting. I use a second strip to make sure it’s secure, this time pushing a little harder. Again he doesn’t react and it doesn’t surprise me. The man is a pro at keeping his emotions in check.
“Done,” I announce then step back and start clearing the wrappers from the strips and swabs.
“Thanks, darlin’.” He opens his eyes, the fire slowly fading behind them.
God, he’s handsome. The dark eyes, tanned skin. Beard. Ugh, the beard.
“No problem.” I clear my throat and step over to the trash can. He doesn’t say anything else and I wonder if I should push this. “Now that you’re cleaned up, let’s discuss the nightgown.” I take a seat next to him. My mind and body are at war with each other. Some messed-up part of me wants to please him and not wear it just to make him happy. But at the same time, he doesn’t get to tell me what to do.
“You can’t wear shit like this if you want to live here.”
“You're serious? What’s wrong with it?”
“Everything.” He keeps his eyes on his beer and I don't know if I want to slap him or kiss his face. Even just sitting there, in his pissy mood, he affects me. I regard him for a minute, willing his eyes up, but he doesn’t react.
“Okay, I’ll start looking for a new place tomorrow.” I stand and begin to walk away. I have no idea where this is all coming from. Yeah, sometimes it can be tense between us but this is a whole new level for us. One I’m not okay with.
“Why? Because I don’t want you to wear the stupid dress around me?” he calls out. I turn back to face him.
“No, because clearly this living arrangement isn’t working for us. And because you don’t get to control me, Beau.”
“I’m not trying to control you, Kenz.”
“No? ‘You can’t wear your nightgown if you wanna live here, darlin’.” I deepen my voice and quote his words back to him. “Is that not controlling?”
“I’m just trying to protect you.” He growls, still not making any sense.
“What from, the cold? Last time I checked it’s eighty out.”
“Don’t be a smartass. You know what I’m saying. You can’t walk around here wearing shit like this and not have me react. It’s the last thing you want.” His honesty shocks me for a minute before I draw his meaning from it.
Okay, we’re doing this now.
“Did you bother to ask me what I want, Beau?” I’m starting to lose my composure. Me standing here, exposed, yet he can barely look at me.
“You don’t know what you want, Mackenzie.”
“Oh, I know what I want. Maybe you’re the one confused here.” There, I said it. No point hiding it. Surely by now he knows this tension isn’t going anywhere. Ever since I came back, it’s been there. Both of us lying to each other isn’t working anymore.
“Jesus, you’re so fucking clueless.”
“And you’re so annoying.”
He stands, pushing the chair back and takes two significant steps toward me. I fight my need to cower. Instead, I straighten my back and hold his stare.
“You really wanna know why this will never work, Mackenzie?”
“Yes!” I practically shout in his face.
“Because you’re right. I want to control you, darlin’. Not in the way your fucking ex did, in a way that makes you come apart.”
A hot pulse of need shoots through me, igniting me with his words.
He leans in closer and I have to tilt my head back to keep eye contact.
“I want to fucking claim you. Tie you to my goddamn bed and force you to submit to me.” He presses his mouth to the shell of my ear and I don't fight it, I wait.
Wait for everything and more.
“I want to do dirty things to you, Kenz. Things only dirty girls enjoy. I want to push every one of your limits so no man will ever be able to make you come like I do.” His hot breath moves over my ear and I can’t help the shiver that rolls through me.
“I. Want. To. Own. You.” He pulls back when he's finished. Both of our breathing thick with need.
Holy shit.
How do you respond to that?
“Beau.” I step back, unsure what to say. His eyes narrow at my retreat, but he doesn’t say anything.
My body is alight, buzzing with need but also uncertainty.
If it were anyone other than Beau saying these words, I’d probably be thrown back into the past with Chad. A past I want no future in. But this is Beau. He doesn't frighten me or want to hurt me. He cares for me and I care for him.
“I don’t—" I begin to reply but stop because I have no idea what I want to say.
“Save it. I’m not doing this with you. Wear your fucking revealing nightgown. I don’t give a fuck.” Beau takes my pause the wrong way, turns and walks out, leaving me alone to process the last ten minutes on my own.
