She didn’t want to listen. Not today. Not right now.
She was done living in someone else’s skin. So fucking done with it.
When had she lost sight of Betty Jo Barker? The girl who’d dragged herself out of that goddamn shed on that awful night and decided that she would never let anyone use her again.
Sure, she’d packed a hell of a lot of living into the last seven years, taken a few wrong turns, but she’d made it through the darkness. She hadn’t OD’d in some hotel in LA or wound up in court ordered rehab. She had a handle on those demons. It was the other ones that were hard. The ones just beneath the surface.
But right now, in this moment, she wanted to forget about all of it and just…feel. She wanted to feel Beau’s body against her. Feel him inside her. She wanted to look in his eyes as he came and know that she was the reason for it. She wanted to feel the excitement, the sexual attraction, and the knowledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
She wanted to feel that control.
She needed to feel that control.
Because being in control was what kept her sane and for the first time in months, she felt a spark of her old self. And even though that old self was damaged and broken and hurt, she was starting to realize that sometimes, even damaged and broken and hurt was better than nothing at all.
“It’s not fair, Beau,” she said silkily as she advanced toward him. His nostrils flared and his breath caught in his throat.
She liked that.
He didn’t move, though a muscle worked its way across his jaw, and his hands fisted at his sides.
She liked that too.
It meant that he was on edge. It meant that he was losing control.
“Fair?” He managed gruffly, shifting his feet a bit. Betty couldn’t help herself. Her eyes wandered lower and rested on the bulge in his wet jeans. A bulge that made the heat in her stomach curl faster and harder.
She dragged her eyes back up to Beau’s. The energy in the air crackled between them and the smell of sex rose to her nostrils. Her sex.
God she wanted him.
“It’s not fair that you have all those clothes on.”
Beau’s eyes darkened until they were the color of cobalt and he reached for the edge of his T-shirt, though he hesitated. “Are you sure about this?”
There was something in his eyes that was a bit unsettling, and maybe Betty should have paid attention to it, but she couldn’t think beyond the here and now.
Her hands fell to her breasts—her fingers tweaked the nipples—and when he groaned, she smiled.
No more hesitation.
Beau’s shirt was over his head in less than two seconds and her hands were on his belt, her eyes on his, as she quickly undid his pants.
“My boots.”
He would have moved but she whispered, “no.”
Betty sank to her knees and bent over, enjoying the quick intake of breath as she thrust her hips into the air and slowly, undid the laces on his boots. When she was done, she sank back onto her haunches, her legs spread just enough so that he could clearly see what was there…what was his for the taking.
Beau stepped out of his jeans and his erection strained against his boxers.
“Take them off,” she said.
“Yes Ma’am.”
Beau stepped out of them and Betty sucked in a breath. He really was magnificent. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock, her hands at the base as she held him steady.
Muscles bunched in his thighs and he ran his hands through his hair as he gazed down at her, mouth parted and breathing heavy.