“You lost my favorite bra,” I accuse as Beau hands me a towel to dry off. I should feel more panicked than I do. I just had sex with Beau McCrae, my client, outside, in a river, without a condom. I also admitted to him that I fantasized about him. I can only hope he forgets that. Knowing Beau, he won’t. All of that and I’m not feeling panicked, because he was right. This was bound to happen. I knew it and that’s why I tried to pretend I didn’t like it. So no, I’m not going to regret it, not tonight anyway. Tomorrow might be a different story though.

“Funny, it was my favorite bra too.” He winks, a sexy grin pulling at his stubbled face.

I watch in fascination as he rubs the towel over his muscled chest and arms. I turn to the task of drying myself before I knock him to the ground and have my way with him…again. I pick my tank top off the pile of clothes and slip it over my head, foregoing the shorts. I don’t wait to see what Beau puts on or doesn’t. My overstimulated senses need a break from him for just a minute. Going to the back of the truck I situate the blankets in the bed to form a comfy pallet for us to lie on. I wasn’t kidding when I said that this all escalated quickly, but I don’t feel uncomfortable or even awkward yet, so I just want to enjoy this moment. Strong hands wrap around my waist from behind, startling me.

“Let me help you up,” he says in a husky voice.

“I can do it. I’ve been in and out of it several times already.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. I’ve been watching. I’m not sure I can take you climbing back up there one more time. That ass waving around in the air taunting me.”

“I wasn’t waving anything.” I laugh, turned on by my ability to turn him on. Especially without even trying.

“Whatever you say, Sugar. Just get your fine ass up there.”

Beau lifts me like I weigh nothing at all, so I treat him with a little ass wiggle as I crawl on all fours up further in the truck. I’m rewarded with a drawn out groan. Finished with my torture for now, I flop back and wait for him to hoist himself up into the bed. Talk about torture, I think while watching him in his low slung jeans, unbuttoned and unzipped, as he goes around to the driver’s side and flips the radio on before joining me. We’re lying side by side in the back of his truck, music playing and the stars lighting up the sky, and I can’t think of a single place I’d rather be.

Feeling emboldened and a little bit entitled since we’ve just been intimate, I decide now is a good time to get to know Beau a little better. Doing it a little backwards, but whatever. “So, why music?” I shift so I’m looking at him. And what a sight he is. Hair mussed, bare chest, arms crossed behind his head making his biceps bulge. He’s not overly large, but he’s big enough and his arms are the stuff of fantasies. Literally. He has his ankles crossed, the denim like butter against my thigh when I brush against him. The man even has sexy feet which is totally unfair.

“Why music? Well, my mama insisted I be well-rounded and not just some wild child.” He grins. “I was all football all the time from early on. My dad and I going to every home game down at the high school as far back as I could remember. My mama told him if I was going to play ball that I was also going to learn something useful. My mama clearly did not think much of football. So one day my granddad gave me a banjo. It had belonged to his dad. I thought it was so country.” A laugh rumbles in his chest. “But it did lead me to pick up a guitar, then the piano at church. Next thing I know I’m singin’ in the choir.”

“You? You’re a choir boy?” I’m shocked by that little bit of information.

“Yes, me. And Sealy actually. But then football took up more and more time, and I still had chores on the ranch, so that singin’ and playin’ was just something I did when nobody was around. I wrote songs and played my guitar when nobody was lookin’.”

“But why?”

“You know how it is here, Sugar. Small town football is a way of life. There’s not time for much else. If they knew I was puttin’ my energy into somethin’ else and had a bad game, it would be because I wasn’t focused enough. Dedicated enough.”

“Your parents put that much pressure on you?” I don’t know why, but I didn’t get that feeling from meeting them. They both seemed to just want their boys to be happy.

“No. The town though. Jenny.” His voice trails off.

I’m not real crazy about bringing her up right now, especially after everything we just did but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.

“She didn’t like that you played or whatever?” I hedge.

“No, she did, but we all knew I was going to go all the way with football. Even back in high school it was a given. I would play ball in college for a year or two and then go to the NFL. It was only a matter of time. She didn’t want me to lose focus of the big picture.” Beau goes quiet and I’m afraid I’ve ruined the night with my questions but can’t help to ask another.

“Which dream was your dream? If you could choose now, would you still choose music?”

“I don’t think anybody’s ever asked me that,” he admits. “I think back then, football was the easier choice. It made the most sense. When I got hurt, at first I was angry and depressed. But then it was almost as if I was relieved. I didn’t realize that music is what I really wanted. I knew I was made for better than ranching. Not that it’s not an admirable life,” he amends with a grin.

“When they told me I wouldn’t play ball again at one hundred percent, I had decisions to make, and I had to make them quick. I found out really quick who my friends were and who they weren’t. I didn’t realize that music was a viable option until a little later. Until I tried all the wrong shit first.” We both laugh at that. This is a side of Beau I don’t think anyone gets to see. That he’s showing it to me is dangerous to my heart.

“So why Austin and not Nashville? I mean, that’s the obvious choice for an up-and-coming country star.”

“It is. And I went. I left everything and everyone behind and did the Nashville thing. Playing all the dive bars, living off of frozen burritos and ramen noodles. Hell, I slept in my truck more times than I can count.”

“Jenny didn’t go with?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Not at first. She was still in school. Then by the time she was done, I wasn’t sure I wanted her to come. I wasn’t exactly killing it there.” With a shake of his head, he stares up at the sky and the million stars, lost in his thoughts.

“What changed?”

“I think I was homesick. I was having a hard time finding my place in Nashville. I wasn’t country enough for country fans, and I was too country for the non-country crowd. Even now it’s the same fight. But then it was worse. I was ready to pack it up and come home so many times.” With a deep sigh he rolls his head to look at me. “She caught me at a weak moment. I finally gave in and she was there within a couple days. Then Jimmy found me a year later.”

Now it’s me lost in thought. I want to know more, but I don’t. I want to ask what happened to them and if he still loves her, but I’m afraid to ask. He makes the decision for me. “Enough of all that shit. I wanna know about you.”

I groan and flop on my back. “I’m super boring.”

Beau runs his fingers down my bare thigh. “I wouldn’t say that. You have a filthy mouth and a smokin’ body. Two very not borin’ things, Sugar.”

I can feel the blush creeping over my face. I can’t believe I said the things I did. And how do I not react to Beau McCrae telling me I have a smokin’ body?

“So you say you get attached easily yet you’re single? How does that happen lookin’ like you do?”

“You sweet talkin’ me for a reason?” I laugh at that since I already gave him the goods. “I was burned pretty bad by the last serious relationship I was in. I got…attached.” I roll my eyes. “He did not. And ever since I’ve just been working to build Hard Candy with Willow and the guys, so haven’t had time.” Shrugging like it’s nothing.

“And there’s never been anything between you and Jimmy or any of the Wrecked guys?”

Scrunching my nose at him, I shake my head. “Hell no. Jimmy and I have known each other since preschool. Our mama’s are friends, and the guys and I basically grew up together as well. My granny sold the farm when my gramps died. I was about fifteen, and moved into a small house right next door to Willow who lived next door to Law, Judge, and Stone and then Arrow was a few miles away,” I rattle off.

“Guys don’t care about that, Addy. I guarantee all you had to do was say the word and any one of them would have—”

“Don’t,” I interrupt. “Even the thought is gross to me.” I shudder.

“So you wouldn’t have let them take you…swimmin’ in the river had they asked?” He shifts so that he’s on his side, head propped up by his hand. With a sexy, knowing smirk he waits, looking relaxed and content. And hot. So, so hot.

“Not a chance.” My voice has a little bit of a dazed tone to it. Dazed or needy. I’m not sure which exactly.

“And what if they had wanted to kiss you?” Beau rubs his thumb over my bottom lip, his eyes locked on mine when he leans in, hovering just a breath away from my mouth.

“They wouldn’t have,” I whisper.

“I would.” He closes the space between us, kissing me softly at first, and then more deeply. My mouth opens to allow him entrance, his tongue just barely dipping inside to taste. A tease really. Doing my best to scoot closer, he pulls back. “I would have kissed you every chance I got.” Rubbing his nose against mine, he nips at my bottom lip. “I would have kissed you anywhere you wanted.” He gives a slow swipe of his tongue. “I would have kissed you until you begged me to fuck you.” Oh God. “With my mouth, then my cock.”

A whimper slips past my lips, making him smile. “Is that you beggin’, Sugar?” Watching me, he lifts a handful of still damp hair and smoothes his fingers over the strands, casually bringing them up to his nose, inhaling before placing a kiss and then releasing them

I nod yes. Then shake my head no. Which elicits a laugh from him. “You’ll have to work on that.”

He kisses the tip of my nose and slides to the end of the truck bed and hops down. Disappearing inside the cab, he comes back with a guitar. He makes climbing back into the truck look way more graceful than I ever could and settles beside me again, this time sitting back against the cool metal frame, guitar resting on his lap as he strums. “You ever been to one of my concerts?”

“No. I’ve never been to any concerts as a fan. I’ve always been on the sidelines or backstage working.”

“That makes sense. So when I go on tour for Hard Candy, you’ll be there?”

“Just depends.” I shrug.

“If I wanted you there would you come?”

“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate. I probably should have so I don’t seem so eager but I can’t deny him. I feel as if he doesn’t often ask anyone for anything, and he may be speaking in the hypothetical, but I’m not. If he asks, I will be there.

He nods and starts humming along to the song filtering through the open windows of the truck, fingers working over the strings of his guitar in an almost lazy way.

“Did you put this on?” It’s “Speakers” by Sam Hunt, the lyrics kind of perfect for our current situation.

Now it’s his turn to shrug, a mischievous grin on his face as he starts singing. Not only is this my favorite Sam Hunt song, it’s dead sexy. He’s dead sexy.

“You know you kind of look like him?” I muse.

Beau shakes his head. “I’m better looking.” Winking he closes his eyes and goes on serenading me. I wish he’d put on one of his own songs, but this will work too. I watch mesmerized as he caresses the guitar, his muscles dancing underneath the tanned skin of his arms. The cords in his neck taut as he sings. I can’t take my eyes off of him. I move closer, his eyes open and following my every move as I straddle his legs, not breaking eye contact.

“Your lips, your hair, your smile, your touch…” He doesn’t get any further. I nudge the guitar off his lap and swallow the rest of the verse in a devouring kiss.

Beau McCrae on his own is a force to be reckoned with. Beau McCrae with Sam Hunt as a wingman is tsunami level and is getting him so laid right now.