Beau growls into my mouth and puts me back down onto to my feet.

“Let’s go, Sugar.” He tugs my hand so that I’m following behind him. His long strides eat up the pavement as I damn near jog to keep pace.

“Beau, if you don’t slow down you’re gonna pull my arm out of socket,” I laugh.

“I’m sorry. You gave me the green light and now all I can see is the finish line, and it’s so damn hot.” He grins down at me, slowing to a more normal speed.

Once at the truck, Beau unlocks my door and helps me in, giving my ass a caressing pat when he boosts me up. The man is incorrigible, and he sure does love my ass. Smiling at the thought, I settle into my seat, fastening my buckle as I wait for him to get in. An idea forms, since torturing Beau is so much fun. He gets in and makes quick work of getting us out of our parking spot and on the road. Radio plays softly in the background. The trip to his place from here isn’t long, and I want to put my plan into motion before we make it too far, before I lose my damn nerve. Nonchalantly, I unclip my seatbelt and lift the center console, sliding over to tuck myself in right next to him.

“Whatcha doin’ over here, Sugar?” he asks, glancing at me before turning his attention back to the road and the big old tractor he’s now stuck behind.

“Oh, nothin’ much.” I smile coyly, running my palm down his thigh to cup him through his jeans. He’s already half hard. Again the thought that I can excite him without doing much at all is a heady aphrodisiac.

“There you go again wantin’ me just for my body. Gotta strong arm you into holdin’ my hand, but you’ll hold onto my dick.” He cracks a smile and widens his legs as much as he can in the cab of the truck. “Go ahead and use me, Sugar.”

Sugar. I never thought endearments could be sexy, but Beau has a way of making it just that. My gaze is on the side of his face as I slip his button free and carefully slide down his zipper, watching his expression soften in desire. This Beau is just as dangerous as the one who wants to hold my hand. Seeing him open and vulnerable to my touch makes me feel powerful and that’s something I’m not used to feeling with a man. In my office, yes. With a man, never.

With that in mind, eyes still fixed on him, I slide him out of his boxer briefs, stroking over the satiny skin covering the hardness beneath. Bolder by the second, I reposition myself, easing myself down so that I can take him into my mouth. The moment I slip the head of his cock past my lips, he hisses out a litany of curses. Smiling around him, I swallow as much of his length as I can. On my knees, I hold my hair to the side with one hand, the other working in tandem with my mouth. The sounds coming from Beau are all the encouragement I need.

My rhythm is thrown off when I feel his roughened palm slide over my shoulder, pulling my tank up as he does, tracing the bumps in my spine then slipping his hand into the back of my shorts to palm my ass. I moan appreciatively when he gently runs a finger through my ass cheeks, feathering over my sweet spots. Taking him even deeper, he gives a thrust, testing my boundaries. I’m coming to find I don’t have any with Beau and if his dick weren’t in my mouth that might could worry me.

But not right now. Right now I’m reveling in the taste of him on my tongue. His fingers playing with my ass, and the heady scent of want and sex in the cab of the truck. I pull my mouth off him with every intention of asking him to pull off into a field somewhere and fuck me when he slowly pulls his hand from me.

“Addy, I'm gonna need you to not pick your head up and very slowly put my cock away.”

As soon as he says it, of course my head flies up and I look out the back window just in time to see the flashing lights of the cop car. Gone is all my brazen wantonness of just a second before. Now I’m in straight panic mode. “Oh my God, I'm going to jail for prostitution!” I wail, scrambling back into my seat to buckle up.

“No, you aren’t. I'm not paying you to give me road head. Lewd and lascivious conduct, maybe,” he says grinning at me while he calmly tucks himself in and pulls to the shoulder of the road all in one smooth maneuver. Soon as the truck rocks to a stop, he makes quick work of his fly. A knowing smirk still playing on his lips.

“Beau! This isn't funny. I cannot go to prison! I'm too naïve. I'm the preacher’s daughter, for mercy's sake! They'll make me their bitch.” I'm near hysterics now as the officer taps on the window. Beau can’t even pretend to keep a straight face.

“Sugar, just calm down, I’ll handle this.”

“‘Calm down’ says the famous guy,” I mutter under my breath.

He rolls down the window chuckling the whole time.

“Hey there, Sheriff, h—”

“I was looking for my contact!” I blurt, pointing like a maniac at my eye.

Beau sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth, snorting out a little laugh while the stern-looking Sheriff silently deadpans me and then flips his attention back to Beau.

“Beau, thought that was you. Heard you were in town. Didn’t think I’d bump into you quite this way, though I shoulda known. This isn’t the first or even second time I’ve pulled you over for this kind of…mischief.”

Oh lovely. Now I’m a Beau ho.

“Give your parents my best, tell ‘em I’ll see them at church on Sunday. And Beau, pay better attention to the road. “ He shifts his attention to me and gives me the obligatory hat tip and disapproving “ma’am” before heading back to his cruiser. The moment he pulls out to pass us, I punch Beau right in his arm which is a mistake because the thing is like granite.

We pull through the ranch entrance in silence, me mortified and him trying not to laugh. It’s what I get for trying to be daring. I’ve never in my life given as Beau called it “road head,” and the chances of it ever happening again are slim to none. Just as we’re passing his parents’ house he slows.

“Reckon we should stop in and say hi to my mama?” The laughter in his voice is unmistakable.

“You’re not even funny, you know that, right?” I huff.

Once we pull into his gravel drive, I have half a mind to tell him to just take me home but I know the chances of that happening are as slim as the chances of the road head thing. I didn’t really want to go home anyway, but I would love to be a little less embarrassed. Helping him grab the shopping bags, I follow behind him into the house.

“You hungry? We never did get to eat. I don’t even know if I have anything other than some watermelon and cereal. I haven’t been to the store,” he calls as he drops the bags in the guest bedroom and comes back to where I’m standing in the kitchen. I’m suddenly a little awkward with him again and he is definitely not. He invades my space as I lean against the counter, my hands gripping the edge behind me and him bracing his own hands on either side of mine, legs spread wide so that I’m positioned in between them. I want him in my space. All of my spaces actually. So I’m glad he has no reservations. Confused as hell by it, but still glad.

“So food or sex first? Either way I need to eat.” His grin is roguish and full of promise.

“What?” I sputter, laughing at his audacity.

“Two things that us Texas boys love to eat, pussy and watermelon. And if you do it right, you eat em’ both the same damn way.”

“What is it with you Texas boys and watermelon things?” I ask amused, thinking about Stone’s obsession with watermelon candy.

Beau just looks at me blankly and asks, “Is that a trick question?”

“I don’t think so. “ My soft laugh turns into a surprised yelp when he lifts me and wraps my legs around his waist as he carries me through the house and into his bedroom. The large bed in the center of the room inviting with all of its throw pillows and steel gray duvet. He walks right up to the king-sized bed and places me in the center of it. Straightening and removing my shoes and tiny socks, he removes his own shoes and shirt before kneeling in between my legs, making the bed shift. Reaching for me, he carefully undoes my shorts, peeling them down my legs and tossing them over his shoulder leaving me completely bare from the waist down.

“Christ have mercy, Sugar. You gotta stop going out like this without tellin’ me. Better yet it’s probably best you don’t tell me because I’d never let you leave my side or my bed.”

“I wasn’t planning on leaving the house when I got dressed this morning,” I tell him although it wouldn’t have mattered. I go sans panties more often than not.

His gaze is fixed on my center, hot like a touch. I can feel the wetness building as he takes his fill, a hand dipped into the front of his pants to stroke over himself. God, this man is sinfully sexy. There’s sexy and then there’s Beau, and he’s on a different level. I have no defenses when it comes to him. They all go up in flames the minute he looks at me, says my name, touches me. I’m so screwed. Every second I spend with him, I’m just setting myself up for the fall. The high will be so damn consuming and wonderful. And the fall…the fall I fear will be shattering.

“Get outta your pretty head, Addy. There’s no room for thinkin’ in here. Only feelin’.”

Pinning me with a heavy-lidded gaze, he waits for me to agree before he shifts focus. “Only feeling’.” I whisper huskily.

Nodding in approval, he lies flat on the bed, putting himself face to face with my pussy. God help me, I should be embarrassed, but I just want his mouth on me. His hands, roughened in the most delicious ways, pass over the skin of my inner thighs, pressing into my flesh, making me open even wider for him. He swipes a tongue through the gathering wetness making me shiver in anticipation.

“This is what I want you focused on. My mouth on you. How wet your pussy is. How good I’m gonna make you feel.” Another swipe, followed by a kiss, right on my clit. “Those are the things I want fillin’ your head.” He looks up at me, face framed by my thighs, his dark hair already mussed, his hazel eyes filled with a desire I’ll never tire of witnessing. It’s a sight so erotic I wish a could capture it to look back on later. “Only me. Only you. Only this. Right here and now. The rest will keep. This won’t.”

I nod, incapable of using words to convey my acceptance and he grins. “Good girl.”

Those are the last coherent words before he buries his face in my pussy. Nuzzling into me and leaving open-mouthed kisses in a fiery trail from one thigh to the other, he stops in the center to pay special attention to my clit. His tongue dipping into me over and over before sliding through my slit, nibbling on the tender flesh along the way. Side to side, up and down. There’s not one inch of me he’s not devouring. It’s not long before I’m clawing at his scalp, lacing my fingers through his hair so that I can hold him to me while I come in waves of pleasure all over his face. Shamelessly riding his tongue while his name falls from mine.

Skin ablaze, I watch, panting as he kneels, sheathing himself with a condom before sliding into me in one powerful thrust. My eyes close all on their own as I try to decipher the feelings I’m overcome with. The pleasure so intense it’s almost as if I don’t have an outlet for it. It pings through every one of my nerve endings leaving me feeling raw and breathless and reaching for more even as it’s all crashing around me. All too much and not enough and then too much again. I’ve never experienced anything like it and doubt I ever will again.

Beau yanks down the front of my tank, taking my bra with it, leaving my tits to bounce against his hand, tightened nipple rubbing against his palm adding yet another layer of pleasure to my already overstimulated senses. My hips jerk to meet his every thrust, spurring him on as he chases after his own release. When yet another orgasm comes crashing down around me, he waits until I’m riding out the tail end of it then slows his pace to a languid roll of his hips like he’s in no hurry.

“I could watch you come all day long, Sugar. It’s the only time you allow yourself to be completely free.”

I moan out my pleasure when he takes hold of my exposed breast and uses his grip to gain leverage as he thrusts hard and high. Over and over, my nipple caught between his thumb and forefinger. I’ve never been a screamer, but when Beau presses my legs back even farther, tossing my legs over his shoulders, he’s given himself VIP access to my elusive G-spot and he works it over with bruising accuracy. Pleasure-pain has stars exploding behind my closed eyelids and me screaming at the top of my lungs, with zero fucks given about who might hear. “Beau. Oh God, right there. Fuck me right there. Don’t fuckin’ stop.” I have no filter or volume control and it’s all his fault. I topple over the edge yet again, hurtling into the most intense pleasure, and watch in satisfaction as he follows, muttering out his own brand of filth, an “Addy” slipped in every now and again, making me smile.

Collapsing on top of me, he’s careful to keep his weight on his forearms so he doesn’t crush me, letting us both come down from that sexual euphoria. Once we’re breathing evenly instead of panting, he raises himself back and smirks. “That’s what I like to call the watermelon crawl,” he teases in an exaggerated drawl. “You’ll never look at it the same again. All you’ll be able to imagine is me eating your pussy like it was a slice of the juiciest, tastiest, ripest watermelon at the picnic.”

Oh God. He’s likening my pussy to a watermelon and I’m not even mad about it. In fact, I’m excited about the next time he wants to let his watermelon-eating country boy shine.