I can’t sleep, and it has nothing to do with the storm raging outside. Over the last couple of hours the weather has only gotten worse, with the water beating against the tent, the wind shaking it.

I shift so I’m now facing Beau. He’s got his back to me, his chest rising and falling underneath a thin blanket over him. His upper back and shoulder are exposed, and I cannot believe he’s not chilled not wearing a shirt.

Although I’m not complaining about the view.

The weather outside is pretty cold due to the rain and wind, but inside the tent is nice and warm. It’s clear he didn’t cheap out on shelter like I did.

He left the lantern turned on, but on a low setting so that there is a dim glow inside the interior. I look at the dips and curves on his bicep, the strength and power that come from him clear. He is so muscular, with the sinew and tendons bunching under his golden skin.

I didn’t lie when I said I wasn’t teasing him earlier tonight, that I didn’t want to get under his skin the way he did with me. But I was angry when he denied me, when he acted like what was going on between us was wrong.

I heard the self-anger in his voice, even though it was clear he tried to hide it. I have a feeling that this all had to do with Brooks. Maybe there is some loyalty there, with Beau feeling he would be crossing lines with my brother if he were with me.

Or maybe all of this is in my head. Maybe he really doesn’t want me in the way that I want him.

The latter frustrates me. I felt the evidence of his arousal for me, could see it in the way he looked at me. But he is fighting it, hiding it. Even now I am aroused, my pussy wet, my nipples hard and aching. I wonder if he’s actually sleeping, or if he is just as worked up as I am. Because I must be a fool, crazy, or hell, both, I find myself reaching out and running my fingers along his arm. His skin is warm and smooth, and I shiver, wanting to be pressed against him, feel that warmth for myself.

This isn’t just about sex. This is about me loving Beau, wanting him in my life as more than what we’ve been, and praying he feels the same way I do. But I’m so afraid of screwing things up, that being bold, like I was earlier tonight, and teasing him, could ruin what little relationship we really have.

I know he is like a brother to Brooks, that he doesn’t want to cross lines and fuck things up there, but I’m a grown woman and I know what I want. I want this man lying right beside me. I want to feel his naked body pressed to mine, keeping me warm, letting me know that I’m not the only one feeling these things. I want things to be more than me poking a sleeping bear with a stick and seeing if I can get a rise out of it.

Something in me opens up and I feel stronger, braver. I won’t let this opportunity pass. If it ends up ruining everything, then at least I tried. At least I was able to say I went after what I wanted.

I sit up, the blanket falling from my body and pooling around my waist. I start to sweat despite the chilled air outside this tent, beads forming between my breasts and down the length of my spine. Can he hear how heavy I’m breathing? It sounds like a freight train to me. My pulse is beating in my throat, pounding hard, threating to burst free. Am I really going to do this? What if this all blows up? What if he rejects me?

I have to try.

I slip off the oversized shirt, the one that smells like Beau. My nipples instantly harden further as the air hits them. I start to shiver, but it doesn’t have anything to do with being shirtless. I’m nervous, afraid of what’s to come, if I’m making the right choice. I shimmy out of the sweats, and soon I’m naked, Beau still facing away from me, my heart beating a mile a minute. I reach out and place my hand on his bicep, his muscles flexing beneath my touch.

“Beau,” I say softly, gently. I curl my fingers into his skin a little harder, and he stirs, turning around and facing me. I can see that he wasn’t asleep by the wide-eyed look he gives me. Or maybe he’s surprised to see me sitting beside him naked. I could have laughed at the latter. Of course he’s shocked to see me like this. But I exhale slowly. “I want to cross that line,” I say softly. “I love you, have loved you for longer than I want to admit.” I swallow the thick lump in my throat.

He doesn’t say anything for long seconds, and I’m afraid that this is where he tells me nothing can happen between us. And then he sits up, his chest coming into full view as his blanket slides off of his body.

“Lexi.” He says my name in a deep, gruff voice. He reaches out and pushes a stray piece of hair from my cheek, his finger brushing my skin. I shiver. And then he wraps his hand around my waist and hauls me onto his lap. My bare breasts press to his chest, a gasp leaving me. I can feel how hard he is, his dick like a steel pipe between my thighs. “Lexi,” he growls, and then he slams his mouth on mine and fucks me with his tongue and lips.

All I can do is wrap my arms around his neck and hold on.