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It’s Blair.
It’s the life I’ll have with her. The dreams. The family. The forever.
“Blair, I’m about to fuck you.” I anchor my feral eyes to hers. I grab her hip so hard I’ll leave bruises on her perfect milky flesh, and I’ll love them. I’ll kiss them when I’m done. “I’m about to fuck you so hard and now and forever. Say yes.”
“Yes, Beau.” She sinks so fast, taking my cry, my cock, my sanity, too. “Yes.”
I don’t know the sounds we start making. I don’t know this animal craze, this fierce passion for claiming every part of her, my mouth taking hers, then her nipples, then her neck. I’m dying under her ruthless, riding fuck and let her take me. Wet. Hot. Hard. Blair has me, my breath, my body, my life. I don’t know who I am, but a moaning man grabbing her, plunging so deep inside her where I belong and only seeking more.
“Beau.” Wetness drops on my cheek. I lick, and it’s salty. It’s her tears.
“Blair.” I open my eyes to find hers crying above mine.
“I’m scared,” she whispers, her mouth brushing mine. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” The truth rushes over my lips. I kiss her and kiss her again. I don’t hold back. I know it. “We’ll be okay because I love you, too.”
And I need to hold her, to take her, to prove it to her. I flip her over, and I do. I devote myself to her. To her pleasure. To making her come. To making her scream, scratching my back. To making her come again after I flip her. I tug her tail when she’s back on top. I thrill her ass while her pussy takes my cock. I make her walls spasm, her cum streaming down my shaft. It makes me cry out to finally come inside her again, to fill her with the flood of emotions we’ve been afraid of for so long.
When we’re done, all that’s left is me, holding Blair in my slick arms, the afternoon sun spilling in through the glass doors, and her kissing my oiled, pounding chest, asking, “Did you really mean it about your bookshelves? That I can have them? Because I’ve never been so turned on in my life.”
I laugh, squeezing her tight. “Yes, baby. You can have my shelves, but I control the remote, and Colt claims the thermostat. That hot motherfucker needs the Arctic Circle to sleep.”
We kiss to the deal. We fuck again to seal our promise.
We got this.
It’s just everyone else I fear who can take it away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“We’ve won the penile lottery.”
COLTON
“Okay, bend your knees. Good girl. You ready for it?”
“But,” Blair protests, “Baby ran from the stage, and Johnny caught her.”
I keep my hands on her waist while I echo Beau, “Look, baby. We can have the time of our lives, but no one puts Hawke on the Injured Reserve Injury list, either. We do this in the pool, but he’s not allowed.” I nod toward Beau, standing by the edge. “I won’t let him. His precious shoulder is worth too much.”
Beau’s grinning, recording us with his phone while mine plays that infamous song from Dirty Dancing.
The sun is setting. The horizon is electric pink. These two fucked so hot and loud all afternoon; even the elusive pink dolphin could hear them, and I’m happy, too.
It seems we’re going for it.
The three of us.
And this iconic shot.
“Alright.” I squat, holding her tight. “Let’s do this—on the chorus.”
We wait for it…
“And go!”
I lift Blair, bracing my arms, using all my might. She’s not heavy. She’s dripping wet and cute as hell in a red and white polka dot bikini, her hair a black silky sheet down her back.
