Chapter Twenty-Seven

Annabel

Everything’s different.

Beau’s different, and let’s be honest. He is everything right now. Everything. He consumes my mind every minute I’m awake and most of the minutes I’m sleeping, too. I cannot stop lingering over that unbelievable body. Even more than that, I’m addicted to the way he sounded when he was telling me about his childhood in England. One hit, and I’m hooked.

So is he.

Things are ramping up in the costume shop. Rehearsals are about to start in earnest, and these people are serious. Even Bethany has stopped making jokes. Instead she’s running her lines. “Take him, and cut him out in little stars,” she says while I move the fabric of her skirt this way and that. I’m not quite sure which way will be best. I need to feel it in my hands. I need to focus. It’s hard to do this when my mind is full of Beau.

“Sounds kind of gross,” I say absently, and she laughs.

“You can’t cut him out in little stars,” she says in a low voice.

I look up from the dress. There’s Beau in the doorway.

This is the second time today. His eyes are dark with need.

But I’m working. I can’t do this. I can’t constantly be leaving with him.

The saving grace is that Bethany’s phone rings. “It’s my mom,” she says, something on her face changing. “Five minutes?” Then she’s whirling away toward the back of the shop. There’s an overstuffed ottoman behind a dressing screen there that muffles the sound.

I put my pins aside and go to Beau.

He bends down to kiss me, his lips urgent on mine. When he breaks away, I’m short of breath. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says. “Are you on a break?”

“I can’t always be on a break with you, Mystery Man. I’m going to get fired one of these days.”

He gives me a half smile. “Isn’t that ultimately the plan?”

“To get fired? I’ve been fired only once in my life.”

“Come to my penthouse.”

I laugh out loud. “I can’t leave.”

“You can.”

I arch an eyebrow at him. “Since when are you so reckless?”

He whispers in my ear. “Since we fucked all night, and in the morning I still had to have more of you.” He runs his fingers down my neck, letting the goose bumps rise. His hand sinks lower . . . but he keeps it on my arm, moving down to my wrist. “Come with me.”

I twist around, looking to see if Bethany is still hidden away behind the screen. She is, but her voice rises. “Mom, I can’t come home this weekend. It’s not going to work out. But on my day off next week—no, Mom, you’re not listening—”

I want to give in to Beau so badly. His touch makes me feel alive, makes me feel like I could do anything. But I don’t want to do anything. I want to do him.

“I have a better idea.”

*****

There’s a closet down the hall from the costume shop.

It’s a door everyone overlooks. I’ve never seen anyone glance at it, much less open it.

It’s hardly a classy enough place for Beau Bennett, but that’s part of the appeal. Plus, I have four minutes left in this little break. I’m not willing to waste any of it.

“Here.”

I take a look around, yank the door open, step inside, and then tug him in after me. It’s so overlooked that there’s nothing in here aside from some old polishing equipment, probably for the stage floor.

“I know it’s not a penthouse, but—”

Beau silences me with a growl and a kiss. I feel myself surrendering to his strength, to his control. In this space, in this dingy little closet, I don’t think about a thing. Not the sweet spot. Not the break. Nothing.

He is as ravenous as I am, and he pulls away so he can tear my jeans off. They fall to the dusty floor. Beau kneels in front of me, takes my panties in his hands. I suck in my breath. He glances up at me, and he’s . . . someone else. This isn’t the cautious man who didn’t want to sleep with me in case there were unforeseen consequences. This is a man who will take what he wants no matter the cost.

I love it.

I’m already slick.

He rips my panties in two, his eyes still on mine.

It doesn’t hurt, but I gasp. Before the sound is out of my mouth, he’s taken me in his arms and lifted me so that my back is up against the rough concrete wall. When did he unzip his pants? I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter, because the head of his cock is teasing my slit. I arch back, and he thrusts in, his hands tight on my ass.

“Look at me,” he growls. I’m holding on for dear life, but I look down into those eyes, a flash of fear trickling down my back at the tone of his voice. I’ve never been into dominant men. I’ve never been with a man who can be like this behind closed doors. “I want to watch you come.”

That’s all it takes. The steady thrust of him deep inside, filling me completely, and his desire. The way he’s watching me. The way he sees me. The first wave hits, and he lets out a low sound as my muscles clench around him. “Keep looking,” he commands. “Keep looking.”

There are voices in the hallway, strangely close to this unused door, but he doesn’t freeze. He doesn’t seem to care if we’re caught fucking in this little closet. He doesn’t seem to care about the consequences, not at all. He cares about me.

I come down from the peak. I start to relax into his hold. “Again,” he says, his face dark and wild in the dim light of the closet.

The voices get louder, closer. Marilee?

This time he meets me in my release, teeth gritted, eyes still locked on mine.

I’m silent, trying to stop my ragged breathing from escaping into the hall. “You’re so bad,” I whisper. My heart pounds. Now that we’re not actively fucking, I’m worried that the door might swing open, and then . . .

Then people would see me with Beau Bennett.

I can’t say I’d mind.

He helps me back into my jeans and tucks my shredded panties into his pocket. “These are useless now,” he says with a grin.

Back in his disguise as a perfect gentleman, he escorts me to the costume shop. At the door he gives me a lingering kiss. “I promise not to interrupt you again.”

I’m still reeling from the intensity of what happened, speechless as he turns away and moves down the hall. “Will you break your promise?” I finally call after him.

“Wait and see,” he tosses over his shoulder, and then he’s gone.