We were sitting under a huge tree in my favorite park, hidden behind a massive concrete wall and overlooking the river. There was no one in sight. Beau wrapped up the trash from his sandwich and stuffed it back inside the bag, leaning his head back against the tree. His fingers moved slowly on his legs, drumming a melodic beat.
I’d figured out that when he drummed slowly, it was because he had a song in his head and wanted to play it. When he drummed quickly, over and over and over, it was his way of trying to calm himself. When he closed his eyes while he drummed, it was his attempt to get past whatever images or words his mind had conjured up. When he smirked while drumming, he’d thought of something new. When he fiddled with his nose ring, he was anxious. When he clenched his fists at his sides, he’d thought of something painful and needed to rid himself of it.
Watching him was fascinating.
Our time was rapidly diminishing. Not only did I have to get back to work, but he had less than forty-five minutes to be on the bus to leave for his tour. My heart sank at the thought of not seeing him for another month. What if he changed his mind while he was gone and didn’t want to talk to me or see me anymore? How would we see each other or date or whatever we were if he was either on tour or in South Florida and I was here?
I had no answers to the million questions in my mind, but I had to relax. Whatever happened would happen. Before today, I’d had zero hope that Beau wanted anything to do with me. At least I knew he liked me.
“I have to get you to the bus soon.” I broke the silence. He cracked his eyes open and nodded, twisting his hands in his lap. What was he nervous about? I wondered how honest I should be with him before he left. While I’d figured out a lot about him, there was still so much that was a mystery to me. “Beau, do you want to keep in touch while you’re gone?”
His hands stopped moving, and he reached them out for me. When I put my hands in his, he pulled until I was in his lap, straddling him. My core immediately responded, having not forgotten what he had done to my libido just an hour ago. I fought against the urge to rub against him in the hopes of alleviating the pain of my arousal. Beau glanced around, seeing there was no one near, and rested his hands on my hips.
“I’m not good at talking.” He kneaded his fingers against my hip bones. My hope deflated. “But, I’ll do my best to speak to you while I’m gone.”
I couldn’t talk to him one more second. He had me all wound up and needing to do something about it. “I don’t want to talk right now.”
Beau raised an eyebrow at me.
“You got me all riled up in the car earlier, and I have less than thirty minutes before you leave for a month.”
“What are you saying, Ms. Knight?” His deep voice reverberating against me didn’t help the raging inferno throughout my body.
“Touch me, Beau. Please. I need you.”
His eyes widened. I knew little about how experienced he was in this area, and I wasn’t nearly as forward as I came across in this moment, but I was desperate to get relief. “April . . .” His voice was barely a whisper. “I . . .”
I didn’t let him finish his thought. I lifted his shirt and ran my hands over the taut skin of his stomach and chest. He froze, his hands still on my hips. I wanted to study every single bit of ink on his magnificent body, but I had no time for that now. I leaned over and pressed my lips to his neck, biting and sucking like he’d done to me earlier. His grip tightened as I continued, his breath ragged against my face.
I couldn’t stop it anymore; I began to rock against him, satisfied when I felt how hard he was for me. The warm breeze lifted my hair as my lips met his. He pulled me into his body, rocking with me as our lips met. A grunt came from his throat as I nipped and sucked his tongue into my mouth, fueling me further. I wished we were at my place right now. I’d never wanted a man more in my life.
When his hands began to move, and I wanted to cheer. He skimmed my sides, stopping abruptly when his thumbs were within centimeters of my breasts. I gripped his shoulders, tilting my head to deepen our kiss. He moaned again as I rocked on him, no longer caring if I embarrassed myself or not.
Touch me, I willed him. I didn’t want to push him, but my God did I want him to send me skyrocketing to the moon. His thumbs brushed my nipples through my bra and shirt, and I moaned into his mouth, taking our kiss deeper, harder, longer. He reciprocated my every move, sucking and biting my tongue and lips.
When his hands moved away, I almost cried until I realized he was going under my shirt. His callused fingers against my soft skin sent waves of desire to my already aroused flesh, and I almost came just from rubbing against him. Our kisses were harsh and unforgiving; we took what we wanted from each other, showing each other what we would do if we weren’t at a park.